tKsamatmmKiHmifeuma&mMm;iiijmmlr'-* 
 
 
 -/^~4i- 
 
 
Or^^-^ 
 
 I 
 
Druggists & Stationers 
 
// / 
 
 ( 
 
 V 
 
/HS DEATH OF CHARLES— P. 829 
 
WILD "WESTBKN SCENES.-SECOND SERIES. 
 
 THE 
 
 WAR-PATH: 
 
 A NARRATIVE 
 
 OF 
 
 ADVENTURES IN THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 WITH MINUTE DETAILS OF THE CAPTIVITY 
 OF SUNDRY PERSONS; 
 
 AMUSING AND PERILOUS INCIDENTS DURING THEIR 
 ABODE IN THE WILD WOODS; 
 
 rEARPUIj BATTLES "WITH THE INDIANS; 
 
 Ccremong of ^boption into ait |nbian J'amilg; 
 ENCOUNTERS WITH WILD BEASTS AND RATTLESNAKES, Ac 
 
 Ye who love a nation's legends, 
 Love the ballads of a people, 
 That like voices from afar off 
 Call to as to pause and listen,— 
 • •»••• 
 Usten to thU Indiau Legend ! 
 
 Song of BiavoaOuu 
 
 By J. B. JONES, 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' VILB WBSTKKN SCENES," " ADVENTURES OF A COCNTRT MEECHANT," ETO. 
 
 IIluBtrattl) fattl; Enjjraliiiias from ©rtgfnal ©tst'gng. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 J. B LIPPINCOTT & CO. 
 
 187 7. 
 
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1S56, by 
 
 J. B. JONKS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office oi the District Court of the United States for the Eastern 
 District of Pennsylvania. 
 
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS OF THE NARRATIVE. 
 
 William Franklin, Governor. 
 
 Old Mr. Cameron, the Exile. 
 
 Charles, Am son. 
 
 Thomas Schoolet, Quaker. 
 
 Richard, his son. 
 
 David Jones, Baptist missionary. 
 
 Samuel Green, surveyor. 
 
 Daniel Boonk, the Pioneer. 
 
 Simon Kenton, the Scout. 
 
 Hugh McSwine, a bloody Indian-fightm 
 
 Skippie, a Scotch messenger. 
 
 Bonnel Moody, a Tory. 
 
 JcHN Brown, innkeeper. 
 
 Will Van Wioqens, a blacktvtith- 
 
 Peter Shaver, an overseer. 
 
 Paddy Pence, coachman and gar''^m0r 
 
 Simon Giety, a renegade. 
 
 Thayendaneqea, a Mohawk aachtcs. 
 
 Wilted Grass, a Delaware youth. 
 
 St. Tammany, aged Delaware chief. 
 
 Qrocnd-Hog, I yfTarrior,. 
 
 Blue Pigeon, etc., J 
 
 Mary Schooley, Thomases wife. 
 
 Julia Lane, Thomas's ward. 
 
 Kate Livingston, Julians friend. 
 
 Joan, Van Wiggens's wife. 
 
 Mary Boone, "I r^ , , . , 
 
 ^ \ Kentucky gxrlt. 
 
 Sue Calloway, J 
 
 Esther, Queen of the Seneeaa. 
 
 Gentle Moonlight, Brandt's aunL 
 
 Brown Thrush, Bandl's sister. 
 
 DiTiNO Duck, an old squaw. 
 
 Rose, Julia's old nurse. 
 
 Solo, Julia's Newfoundland dog 
 
 Watch, Van Wiggent's mongrel eur. 
 
 A Jackass. 
 
 SCENES IN NEW JERSEY, NEW YORK, PENNSYLVANIA, OHIO, 
 
 AND KENTUCKY. 
 
 M539393 
 
WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE JOURNEY. 
 
 A DENSE fog hung over the placid surface of the Dela- 
 ware River, an-i enveloped in its folds many of the ancient 
 buildings of Burlington, then the capital of the colony of 
 New Jersey. The stately mansion of the British governor, 
 William Franklin, situated on the beautiful green bank so 
 much admired at the present day, was wrapped in the 
 vapour, and, as was often said of its occupant, seemed 
 lost in a mist. Even the haunted tree in front of the 
 governor's residence — the witches' sycamore — was reported 
 by fearful pedestrians to have vanished, or at least to have 
 become invisible. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding the gloom which oppressed the 
 atmosphere, a most extraordinary sound of hilarity burst 
 from the hall of one of the dwellings on the principal 
 street running at right angles with the river. The house 
 from which the sound proceeded was the habitation of a 
 solemn Quaker. The hall-door was open, and within, erect 
 as a young man of thirty-five, stood Thomas Schooley, in 
 his sixtieth year, surrounded by several of his friends, of 
 about the same age and stature, all being tall and athletic, 
 and habited alike, as they were all Quakers. 
 
 Friend Schooley was receiving the parting adieus of the 
 last of his society brethren in Burlington, before departing 
 on what was then termed the long and perilous journey 
 
 1* 6 
 
6 "WILD WESTERN SCENES; 
 
 to the northwestern counties of the colony. And the 
 mirthful sound, so unusual on such occasions, and so ex- 
 traordinary at any time among that class of people, had 
 been produced by the following remark : — " Thee will save 
 thy property, Thomas, and also thy neck, by fleeing to the 
 mountains." The old men laughed quite heartily for a 
 brief interval ; while a youthful auditor in the parlour 
 seemed to yield to uncontrollable merriment. She had 
 beheld the sudden relaxation of the countenances of the 
 aged men ; and their long sharp noses, singularly alik 
 reaching beyond their sunken lips almost down to t^ 
 peaked chins, had caused her cachinnation. 
 
 Beside the young lady sat the wife of Thomas, erev,. 
 and tall, and plainly habited in a costly hooded salmon- 
 coloured cloak and scooped bonnet. Her bloodless lips ex- 
 perienced no contraction ; but her pallid brow, with a quiver 
 slightly perceptible, was turned toward her youthful com- 
 panion. 
 
 "Julia, thee dost not seem to be cast down at the moment 
 of departing." 
 
 "Indeed, I could not help laughing, Mrs. Schooley, when 
 I saw the faces of the old men." 
 
 "I fear they will suffer many agonies in the wrathful 
 storm soon to burst upon this devoted country," said she, 
 with a deep sigh; "and I trust the Lord will so sustain 
 them that they may not find their laughter turned to groans 
 under affliction. But thee must call me Mary, Julia, and 
 not Mrs. Schooley, as is the wont of those with whom 
 Thomas, thy guardian, has permitted thee to dwell." 
 
 " Pardon me, Mary ; I will strive to obey thee in future. 
 And in truth it should be a very melancholy moment ; for 
 from among the savages and the wild beasts of the wilder- 
 ness, whither we are going, there can be no certainty we 
 shall ever return. Thy son Richard, whom I see endeavour- 
 ing to wash away his tears at the pump, must be sorely 
 distressed at the idea of the hardships and dangers to be 
 encountered." 
 
 "No, Julia. He merely grieves at the wickedness of 
 mankind and the abominations of rebellions. He is a 
 dutiful child, and strong, too. He is quite as tall as 
 his father, and can perform as much labour as the stoutest 
 slave we possess. He is industrious and careful, and wW] 
 
SECOND SERIES. 7 
 
 not see diminished the estate he is to inherit. But here ia 
 Thomas," she continued, rising. 
 
 "Sit still, Mary," said Thomas. "Let us tarry until 1 
 can utter the words which I am prompted to speak to Julia, 
 my ward. Julia, dost thou think thy mind is quite decidea 
 upon making this journey?" 
 
 " Oh, quite, Mr. Schooley — Thomas, I should have said. 
 I am delighted at the idea of dwelling in the wilderness, 
 and am very impatient to be gone." 
 
 " Thee shall be gratified. But thee must be prepared 
 to endure a great many inconveniences : — rude and often 
 uncomfortable houses; but few companions of any sort, 
 and none of the like frivolity and gayety of thy friends in 
 East Jersey, or even here, in this once quiet and sedate 
 Beat of piety ; no shops where are vended the playthings 
 of silly fashion ; no harpsichords and lutes, the instruments 
 of idle sounds " 
 
 " Pray, Thomas, do not call them idle sounds ! But are 
 there not birds ? Will I not hear my precious woodrobins, 
 the thrushes, the bluebirds, and even the daring catbirds ?" 
 
 " I do not know ; but thee may expect to find them." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! And fie upon thee, Thomas, for deeming 
 idle the glorious songs the Creator puts in the throats of 
 those tiny beings for our enjoyment !' 
 
 " I would warn thee of the privations of a forest life, and 
 then, and for the last time, leave it optional with thee to 
 go or remain. I am thy guardian, and might exert my 
 authority ; but bad motives would be attributed if any mis- 
 chance should follow. Thou art the sole descendant of one 
 of the proprietors under William Berkeley, who derived by 
 James " 
 
 " James, Duke of York, brother of the King — Sir Wil- 
 liam Berkeley, Earl of Stratton ; and my ancestor was a 
 knight — Sir Thomas Lane. But pardon me — I did not in- 
 tend to interrupt thee." 
 
 " Thee knows I regard titles as merely frivolous appen- 
 dages, although I practise submission to those in authority. 
 Well ! thou art the heiress of all the lands held by thy father 
 at his death, as I am the heir of my father, whose first an- 
 cestor was landed in this town from the " Willing Mind" 
 in 1677, some twenty years before thy titled ancestor was 
 appointed governor." 
 
8 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "Yes, he was governor; I forgot that." 
 
 " He was a better officer and man than his successor 
 Edward, called Lord Cornbury, the presumptuous and dis- 
 sipated cousin of Ann, denominated the Queen. But, as I 
 was saying to thee, thou art the heiress of many large 
 tracts of which we know but little. Some are in Hunterdon 
 and Sussex counties, and some lie in East Jersey, in Bergen, 
 Morris, and Essex, which may be valuable at a future 
 period, if not confiscated." 
 
 "Confiscated?" 
 
 " Listen, and thee will learn my meaning. As I was 
 saying to thee, I have likewise many tracts, of more or less 
 fertility, besides the mountain, which I have been told will 
 perpetuate my name — truly a useless distinction,— and all 
 of which might be lost if we were to become identified with 
 the people about to engage in this rebellion. George will 
 surely pour out his wrath upon his enemies ; and many who 
 remain upon the scene of strife, although they may not 
 participate in its heinousness, may nevertheless be involved 
 in the doom of the guilty. Burlington is sadly demoralized 
 since our forefathers landed upon its soil ; and there may 
 be those among us who would not hesitate to bear false- 
 witness against their neighbours." 
 
 " Do you really think there will be war, Thomas ?" 
 
 "Dost thee not hear the firing of that swivel at the 
 Ferry Tavern?" 
 
 " Richard told me those engaged in it were boys." 
 
 "He told thee truly. But they are celebrating the 
 battle of Lexington, and the burning of a cargo of tea 
 from a ship in Cohansey Creek, about \fhkh I will inform 
 thee on our journey — if thee resolves to ^T But, if thee 
 decides at the last moment to remain, William Franklin is 
 ready to receive thee." 
 
 " I will go with thee. And, if I did not, I would not 
 stay at the governor's house." 
 
 " Thee is positive, Julia," said Mary. 
 
 " I mean, with my guardian's permission, I would prefei 
 to live at the house of " 
 
 " William Livingston, thee would say," added Thomas. 
 
 " True, and be with my old schoolmate, Kate." 
 
 " William Livingston will join the rebels. And wouldst 
 thou prefer to dwell with him for that reason ?" 
 
SECOND SERIES. 9 
 
 **No, Thomas — that is — I know not what to say. But 
 do not frown upon me. Indeed, it was not on that account 
 I preferred to dwell in his mansion. But if the rebels 
 shoul 1 succeed, and if I were to live with Governor Frank- 
 lin, might we not lose our lands?" 
 
 " Thee must not suppose the rebels can succeed. And 
 I hope thee has not formed an attachment for any one but 
 thy friend Kate at Elizabethtown ?" 
 
 *' Indeed, indeed, I have not !" 
 
 " Then do not blush, Julia," said Mary, smiling. 
 
 "Nor at Princeton," continued Thomas, while poor 
 Julia continued to blush, " where I learnt thy Elizabeth- 
 town friends used to visit, and that thou hadst danced with 
 the young man who won the first honour in college." 
 
 " If I do blush, Thomas, it is not the blush of shame. 
 You are my guardian, to whom I promised my dying 
 father to render all reasonable obedience. I danced with 
 Charles Cameron, Kate Livingston and myself danced 
 with him an equal number of times. But I deny having 
 formed any attachment such as you allude to." As Julia 
 uttered these words, a sudden pallour chased away her 
 blushes. 
 
 "I believe thee, Julia. Thou didst never yet fear to 
 tell the truth, and I honour thy candour. This Charles, I 
 am told, is a young man of talent. He was taken, Mary, 
 when an infant, by the Indians, and lived among them 
 Bome fifteen years. When restored to his father, who had 
 long mourned his loss in solitude, living a hermit's life on 
 the DelaAvare, near the Gap " 
 
 "Does he live there still?" asked Julia, quickly. 
 
 " He does, and on thy land, or on a tract adjoining 
 thine." 
 
 " Poor child !" said Mary. 
 
 " Thee must not decide too hastily," continued Thomas. 
 " It does not appear that he is poor, or an object of pity. 
 At all events, his father, it seems, had money to bestow 
 upon him an expensive education ; and thee has heard the 
 young man achieved the first honour. Nevertheless, hia 
 father was not present." 
 
 " He was not ? How strange !" said Julia, abstractedly. 
 
 " I have seen this youth at the governor's, and I assure 
 thee, Mary, he made a good appearance ; seemed afl'ablo 
 
10 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 and polished, and was treated with courtesy by William. 
 But let us not lincrer. The sun breaks forth through the 
 mist, and we shall have a fine day. The coach waits at 
 the door. Come, Richard. We leave an open house in 
 the keeping of thy old nurse. Thou wilt go, Julia?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, freely, eagerly," said she, rising and taking 
 his arm. 
 
 " Thee will meet him, perhaps, at his father's house," said 
 Richard, who had been listening, half archly and half 
 reproachfully. 
 
 "When didst thou see him at the governor's, Thomas?" 
 asked Julia, not heeding Richard. 
 
 "This very morning. He was William's guest last 
 night." 
 
 " You see, Mary, and you too, Richard, that he did not 
 visit me," said Julia. 
 
 " He arrived late in the night," resumed Thomas, while 
 Julia seemed to lean somewhat heavily on his arm. " He 
 had been sent for by William, who has perhaps employed 
 him in the service of George, since he is familiar with the 
 dialects of the Indians." 
 
 " I am sure he would not assume any such — that is — I 
 mean — I am quite certain he would not use his influence to 
 incite the Indians to hostility — to make war upon the inno- 
 cent inhabitants " 
 
 " No, child, thee need not fear it. But it would be no 
 trifling service to ascertain, through the instrumentality of 
 this young man, the sentiments of the various chiefs in 
 regard to the unhappy quarrel with the mother country, 
 and to persuade them to remain neutral during the contest. 
 I know not whether the lad agreed to the proposals of the 
 governor ; but I saw him set out in company with another 
 college-bred Indian youth, named Bartholomew Calvin — in 
 the Delaware language Shawuskukhkung, meaning Wilted 
 Gi'ass. They were mounted on fine horses, and quickly 
 disappeared on the road we will soon be traversing." 
 
 By the time the last speech was ended, the party of four 
 were seated in the carriage ; and Paddy Pence, the Irish 
 coachman, flourished his long whip over the horses* ears as 
 they bounded forward on the Trenton Road. 
 
 Julia Lane, who had not smiled at Mr. Schooky's ex- 
 pression of "another college-bred Indian youth," now sai 
 
SECOND SERIES. 11 
 
 silently and thoughtfully beside her female companion 
 seemingly unconscious of the subject of the conversation 
 maintained between her guardian and his son Richard, vrho 
 occupied the front seat of the vehicle. 
 
 Julia was just in her blissful seventeenth year. Though 
 slight and fragile, her stature was sufficiently tall, and her 
 form of beautiful proportions. She had an exquisite com- 
 plexion, wavering between the fair and the dark, sometimes 
 the one and sometimes the other ; and features not sus- 
 ceptible of classification, but ever varying with her emo- 
 tions and fully expressing them 
 
 Julia sat in silence, leaning her delicate chin upon her 
 small hand, listlessly oblivious of the appraisements of the 
 farms and tenements they passed uttered by her guardian 
 and his son Richard. She was not even startled by the 
 remark that a certain broad domain in view belonged to a 
 handsome young widow. 
 
 Her thoughts were divided between the past and the un- 
 known future. Hitherto her life had been an unbroken 
 dream of pleasure, with the exception of the agony of the 
 loss of her beloved father. But, death being one of the 
 inevitable incidents of nature, nature itself provides a solace 
 for the pang. It is natural to die, and it is natural to 
 mourn the departed; but nature enables us to bear the 
 loss, and provides other objects to occupy our affection, 
 so that in turn we shall be loved and lost, mourned and 
 forgotten. 
 
 Julia's guardian had been the agent and then the partner 
 of her father ; and many vast tracts of land were held in 
 common between them, and remained undivided at the de- 
 mise of Mr. Lane. The estate of Mr. Lane was left to the 
 sole use of the heiress upon attaining a certain age. She 
 was to be permitted to attend the church of her fathers, 
 having been baptized by the Rev. Dr. Jonathan Odell, rector 
 of St. Mary's, Burlington ; but she was not to marry during 
 her minority without the permission of her guardian. 
 Nevertheless, relying upon the rectitude of the Quakers, 
 among whom he had dwelt the greater portion of his life, 
 the dying parent had besought his daughter to heed the 
 counsels of his friend, and be governed by his advice in 
 riatters wherein her own mind might need instruction or be 
 involved in doubt ; and she had promised to conform tc 
 
12 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 his injunction. Having completed her education, Juh'a 
 supposed that but few exigencies could arise wherein her 
 action would require the guidance of an adviser. She was 
 permitted to associate with the acquaintances she had 
 formed before her father's death, and, among the rest, Kate 
 Livingston — the daughter of an able lawyer living at Eliza- 
 bethtown, near Staten Island Sound, with whom Mr. Lane 
 had much legal business, and who was destined subse- 
 quently to act an important part in the affairs of his 
 country. . 
 
 It was at the mansion of Mr. Livingston, where Juha 
 sojourned the greater portion of her time, that she became 
 acquainted with Charles Cameron and Bartholomew S. 
 Calvin, — the latter being the nephew and heir of the king 
 of that portion of the Delaware nation which remained 
 upon the seaboard; a lad of mournful spirit and great 
 meekness, upon whom Dr. Witherspoon, of the College at 
 Princeton, had resolved to bestow a classical education. 
 These youths had attracted the notice of Mr. Livingston ; 
 and, foreseeing the benefts which might be derived from 
 their knowledge of Indian character during the approach- 
 ing struggle with the mother country, he had prevailed on 
 them to spend their vacations at his house, and from whom 
 both himself and his daughter Kate, as well as Julia, 
 learned many of the remarkable characteristics of the 
 tribes of the forest. And Kate and Julia listened to ac- 
 counts of — 
 
 •' Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven ;" 
 
 And doubtless they thought the tale was 
 
 ♦ Strange, 'twas passing strange ; 
 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondi-ous pitiful ; 
 
 But, unlike the Venetian beauty, they did not dream of 
 love. It was merely friendship and romance. 
 
 So much for the past. We have said that Julia, in her 
 obliviousness of the present, only strove to penetrate the 
 future. For hours she mused in silence. Would she^ see 
 the young graduates upon the margin of one of the bright 
 lakes embowered in the wihlcrness? Would they lead lier 
 to the wild summit of the mountain, whence the eye might 
 distinguish objects dimly in the distance ? Would they not 
 
SECOND SERIES. 13 
 
 resume their savage dispositions in the solitudes of the 
 forest ? Would she see Charles's father ? Who could he 
 be ? Such were some of the conjectures of the tender 
 maiden as she journeyed toward the wilderness. 
 
 CHAPTER ir. 
 
 A FIRESIDE STORY — THAYENDANEGEA — PADDY'S BLUNDER. 
 
 The fog of the morning having been dispelled by the 
 glorious sun in a cloudless sky, and the road leading mostly 
 through a level country until it passed the northern limits 
 of the present Mercer county, our travellers accomplished 
 what was deemed a good day's journey long before the ap- 
 proach of darkness. Paddy Pence had not spared his 
 horses, nor had Thomas Schooley restrained his hand, until 
 they came in view of the beautiful valley in Hunterdon 
 county, in which the famous log tavern of John Ringo was 
 situated, and where it had been determined to rest the first 
 night. 
 
 Paddy was now ordered to permit the horses to fiill into 
 a gentler pace, for they exhibited symptoms of weariness, 
 and one of them had loosened a shoe. 
 
 The travellers gazed with delight at the beautiful aspect 
 of the country as they descended into the valley, which, 
 however, became wilder in its features as they progressed. 
 The settlements were perceptibly farther apart, and the 
 forest was but slightly variegated by cultivated fields. 
 Majestic oaks, and tall pines, and budding chestnuts, from 
 which the squirrel's joyous cry and the songs of happy 
 birds were heard incessantly, almost constantly surrounded 
 them. In the dim distance on the left Thomas pointed to 
 the blue outline of the Musconetcong Mountain ; and on 
 either hand they had occasional glimpses of mills situated 
 on the crystal streams flowing toward the Delaware River, 
 some ten miles distant. 
 
 "Plase yer honour," said Paddy, drawing the reins sud- 
 
 2 
 
14 AVILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 denlj and causing the horses to stand perfectly still, "-what 
 Bort of a baste is that?" 
 
 " Baste, Patrick? Oh, you mean beast!" 
 
 " Yis, yer honour, I mane baste, and it's as ugly a crather 
 as my eyes iver beheld. One end is under the stone, and 
 the other swags backwards and forwards, and jangles like 
 wee sleigh-bells wid their clappers broken." 
 
 " Patrick," said Thomas, descending from the carriage, 
 " that is a snake — a rattlesnake !" 
 
 " Och, the baste!" cried Paddy, who had likewise de- 
 scended from his seat ; but he ran back hastily, and leaped 
 upon the box, where he sat shivering with terror. 
 
 " Drive on, Patrick, and let Mary and Julia see 
 him. lie is nearly dead. Some one has cast a stone 
 on his head," continued Thomas, who had been joined by 
 Richard. 
 
 *' Och, murther !" cried Paddy, making an involuntary 
 movement, as if to turn the horses in the opposite direction. 
 "■Plase yer honour, let's go back agin ! That baste will be 
 the death of poor Paddy Pence ! They tould me I'd find 
 sich divils of blackguard bastes in the same country with 
 the nagers, and that they'd ate me up in the garden, and 
 swaller me down on horseback." 
 
 Mr. Schooley chided his coachman for using such lan- 
 guage; and, being joined by Julia, whose curiosity over- 
 came her fears, he made Richard stand upon the stone, 
 and, stooping down, dispossessed the snake, which was a 
 pretty large one, of his rattles. He likewise explained 
 to his ward the very natural affright of Paddy, who was 
 a recent importation, and had never beheld a serpent 
 before. 
 
 " Be the powers, if yer honour aint afraid to take hould 
 of the baste with your naked hands, Paddy Pence is not 
 the boy to hould back on his high box." And so Paddy 
 urged his horses — which pricked up their ears and snorted 
 repeatedly — beyond the snake. 
 
 " Patrick, my friend," said Mr. Schooley, with much 
 gravity, " thee must not swear. Thee must read the third 
 chapter of James." 
 
 " Och, yer honour, I'm a thrue Jacobite, and there's 
 niv^r a bit of danger that I'll take the oath against the 
 rightful—" 
 
SECOND SERIES. I't 
 
 " Ha! ha! He will never understand thee," said Julia, 
 laughing heartily. 
 
 " Och, but I will, my beautiful young mistress," con 
 tinned Paddy; "and I'll die, but I'll sarve him faithfully 
 for, of all the masters it's iver been my lot to own, niver a 
 divil of 'em called me friend before." 
 
 "Patrick, thee misunderstands me. I am a loyal subj-«.ct 
 of George. But I meant thy profane swearing." 
 
 *' Be my sowl, I wouldn't be guilty of such a thing in 
 yer prisence." 
 
 " Thou hast done it twice already, Patrick," 
 
 *' Then I beg yer honour's and the ladies' pardons ; for, 
 be my life, I didn't know it, and I hope yer honour will 
 tache me betther manners." 
 
 " I will strive to do so, Patrick. And thee must re- 
 member to swear not at all. But thee must read the New 
 Testament." 
 
 " I thank yer honour, and I'll try and remimber not to 
 forgit what you say; but, yer honour, I darsn't rade the 
 Tistament widout permission of the praist." 
 
 " It is a great pity. Patrick, that thou hast been bred in 
 such ignorance of thy rights ; but, if thou wilt read, thou 
 wilt learn all about the precious privilege which is the 
 birthright of every one. 
 
 " If yer honour advises it, I will larn what Saint James 
 ses about swearing, which is a foul-mouthed practice. But 
 there is one difficulty, yer honour." 
 
 " I tell thee there can be none where there is a will." 
 
 " I mane, yer honour, that divil a bit was I iver taught 
 to rade ! There agin ! I see yer honour is offinded at the 
 mintion of the blackguard! But, pardon me, yer honour, 
 till I larn betther the nixt time." 
 
 The horses crept along slowly, and Mr. Schooley re- 
 mained on foot, declining to re-enter the carriage. 
 
 Julia and Richard, proceeding more briskly, were soon 
 several hundred paces in advance, and appeared to be much 
 interested with the objects which met their view. 
 
 " I am glad to see thee joyful, Julia," said the young 
 man, when he perceived a smile upon the fair face of his 
 companion, as she stooped ever and anon to observe a 
 eevered wild-flower, to which she evidently attached a sig- 
 nification incomprehensible to Richard. 
 
16 WILD WESTERN SCENES. 
 
 " There is a freshness in the air, Richard, a perfume in 
 the wild-flowers, a grandeur and sublimity in the woods and 
 hills, never known in cities or densely-peopled districts, 
 and irresistibly productive of an exhilaration of spirits," 
 
 " I wish I could feel it !" said he, sighing. " Even the 
 hieroglyphics on the tree by the snake — the Indian marks — 
 seemed to be interesting to thee, while to me they were 
 without meaning. I wish some one would teach me to 
 enjoy the things which afford thee pleasure, and also the 
 way to please thee." 
 
 " Oh, don't sigh, Richard ! The things which please 
 my fancy would be considered frivolous by thy father, and 
 no doubt he has long since taught thee to regard them as 
 he does." 
 
 " No, no, Julia ; if any thing I could do might appear 
 pleasing in thy sight, I would not deem it frivolous." 
 
 " I thank thee, Richard. You were ever kind to me. 
 I am sensible of your goodness, and of your father's in- 
 dulgence to a Avayward orphan. I am striving to conform 
 to his rules. I have learned his manner of speech " 
 
 "And it sounds like music from thy lips." 
 
 " Why, Richard, thou hast been learning to compliment 
 a poor maiden after the fashion of the world !" 
 
 "Nay, Julia, it was the untutored impulse of my 
 heart !" 
 
 " Then nature was the model for poets ! And, truly, thy 
 father never encouraged thee to be enraptured of sweet 
 sounds. Nevertheless, I am the more thankful for the 
 compliment as it cannot be a vain and empty one. Thou 
 didst ask me Avhat would give me pleasure. Flowers and 
 birds. Gather the first on the hills, and Paddy Pence will 
 cultivate them for me ; and entice the birds into the garden, 
 rather than frighten them away, as thy father did in Bur- 
 lington. But how^ can I repay thee ? What meanest thou 
 by such incessant sighing ?" 
 
 " How repay me ? One smile is enough — but I — 1 
 declare to thee I do not know what I do ! I will strive to 
 correct the fault of sighing." 
 
 " Do, Richard. I would like to see thee cheerful. Stay! 
 don't trample upon them !" she added, quickly, as her 
 companion's foot was suspended over a collection of bios- 
 Boms of various hues. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 17 
 
 " They Mere plucked, Julia, by some one unknown to us. 
 Thee seems to study them as if thou wert superstitious." 
 
 "I am a little superstitious, Richard," said she, smiling, 
 as she collected the blossoms and enjoyed their perfume. 
 The next moment they were joined by Mr. Schooley and 
 overtaken by the carriage. They were in front of Ringo s 
 log tavern, where they were welcomed heartily. 
 
 The shades of evening, and the descending dew, even in 
 May, made the blazing logs in the broad fireplace product- 
 ive both of a cheerful aspect and a congenial temperature. 
 
 Our travellers, therefore, after a hearty repast, collected 
 in front of the broad, glowing hearth. 
 
 "Come in, Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, seeing his man 
 at the door, " and eat thy supper. I suppose thee has fed 
 the horses ?" 
 
 "Plase yer honour, not yit. I was in a quandary." 
 
 "My man Jake's got the ager," said Mr. Ringo, the 
 host, "or he'd a' done it." 
 
 "I told thee, Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, "to give 
 them corn in the ear.* In that way they are not likely 
 to eat too fast and become foundered. Do you not under- 
 Btand me, Patrick?" 
 
 'Yes, yer honour," said Paddy, bowing and withdrawing. 
 But in a few moments he reappeared with a bewildered 
 look. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Schooley, "thee has fed them?" 
 
 " Plase yer honour, the horses have good enough tathe 
 in their mouths, but divil the one could I find in their ears. 
 And how could I fade 'em, as yer honour tould me, when 
 they wouldn't ate wid their ears, but snatched it wid their 
 tathe." 
 
 In the laughter which followed this blunder of Paddy's 
 even the staid Mary and the melancholy Richard partici- 
 pated. Paddy, as we have said, was a recent importation, 
 and had never seen any corn in the ear. 
 
 Later in the evening, when the moon shone brightly, 
 and the sinking embers threw up a crimson glow which 
 illuminated the recesses of the loft above, a howling in the 
 woods attracted notice. 
 
 * This occurrence has been recently going the rounds in the papers, 
 Ml editorial friend of the author being permitted to transcribe it 
 
 2* 
 
\8 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 ^'What is that?" asked Julia. 
 
 "That," said John Ringo, "is either a wolf or an In- 
 dian." 
 
 " Murther ! Did you say Indian, Mr. Rango?" exclaimed 
 Paddy, rising from the table, and, unbidden, occupying a 
 Btool near the corner of the capacious fireplace. 
 
 "Or a wolf, Paddy," replied Mr. Ringo. "But take a 
 dram, and I will tell you what took place here one night 
 when I was a boy." 
 
 " John," said Mr. Schooley, " thee must not tempt Pa- 
 trick to drink. We still have a long road before us. But 
 thou mayest tell him some of the anecdotes of early times. 
 And I see Julia is impatient to hear thee. But thy lis- 
 teners must not forget that thy adventures happened many 
 years ago." 
 
 "But, father," said Richard, "thee heard William 
 Franklin say " 
 
 " Richard ! thee forgets that thou art not permitted to 
 repeat what the governor said." 
 
 Richard was dumb. 
 
 " I believe the governor* intends to take sides against 
 his father," said Ringo, between the puffs of his replenished 
 pipe, the smoke from which, although it seemed to ascend 
 the chimney, nevertheless perfumed the apartment. 
 
 " Pray go on now, Mr. Ringo," said Julia, in an attitude 
 of attention. 
 
 "It was about this time o' night," said Ringo, "and at 
 this season of the year, the moon shining brightly, as it is 
 now, — when I was a boy, Paddy," — he added, seeing Paddy 
 stretching his neck, and with open mouth looking toward 
 the window, — " that we heard an uncommon howling. The 
 wolves seemed to be all around the house, and a great deal 
 nearer than the one we now hear." 
 
 " John, dost thee hear it now ?" asked Mrs. Schooley, 
 who was likewise an attentive listener ; for she had never 
 before accompanied her husband to his western estates. 
 
 "No; he is silent, now," said John, between two pro- 
 longed puffs ; " and it's likely he's eating one of my pigs. 
 On the night I am speaking of, there was an old man by 
 the name of Jobes with us. He came down from Sussex 
 
 * He was a natural son of Benjamin Franklin. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 11* 
 
 county, ivhere he had lived several years, and had often 
 been chased by the Indians ; and once, while he was ab- 
 sent, two of his sons were killed. He and ray father were 
 making a bar<Tain for the piece of land you saw on the left, 
 with the girdled trees on it, when the old man stopped 
 talking, and said they were not wolves, but Indians, howl- 
 ing around the house. And soon they stopped howling, 
 and began to hoot like owls." 
 
 "Dost thee not hear an owl now, John?" asked Mrs. 
 Schooley. 
 
 " I do," replied Ringo, after expelling a long whiff of 
 smoke. 
 
 "Murther!" cried Paddy, starting up. 
 
 "Who's killing you, Paddy?" asked Ringo. 
 
 " Thee must not forget it was twenty or thirty years 
 ago, Patrick," said Mr. Schooley. 
 
 "I will try not, yer honour," replied Paddy. 
 
 "We looked into the yard," continued Mr. Ringo, "and 
 saw a large party of Indians aiming their French muskets 
 at us. We dodged down. You can see the bullet-marks 
 on that side now." 
 
 " Murther !" said Paddy, drawing closer to the corner. 
 
 " Recollect it was before you were born," said Julia, 
 amused at Paddy's evidences of affright. 
 
 "Then," resumed Mr. Ringo, "we rose and fired, and 
 when the smoke cleared away there was not an Indian to 
 be seen." 
 
 " They were handsomely defated," said Paddy. 
 
 " They were not gone far," said Ringo. "For, when 
 Jobes peeped out, a bullet came in and cut off his ear." 
 
 " The blackguard savage !" said Paddy. 
 
 " From that time both parties were more cautious. But 
 we were besieged till morning, when we heard the joyful 
 sound of fire-arms a short distance from the house, which 
 we knew to be the signal of relief, and the Indians instantly 
 disappeared. Our deliverers were from the block-house 
 on the river, and had been following the trail of the enemy. 
 Since that night we have never been molested. 
 
 " Wilt thou not be made fearful, Patrick," asked Mr. 
 Schooley, "listening to such stories?" 
 
 " Niver a bit, yer honour, if the young mistress won't 
 be frightened. Bless yer life, su', all these botherations 
 
20 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 happened before I was born, and surely before the young 
 lady iver dramed of such a thing. Yer honour, I'll show 
 you I'm not afraid ! I'll go to the stable be meself, and see 
 if the horses are comfortable ; and airly in the morning 
 I'll have the shoe faxed at the shop down at the mill." 
 
 Paddy walked bravely out into the yard, and on to the 
 gate, upon which his hand was resting, when he espied a 
 solitary horseman coming slowly down the road. He stood 
 undecided whether to advance or retire, until the stranger 
 was sufficiently near for him to perceive that he wore a 
 blanket thrown gracefully over his shoulders, that his head 
 was surmounted with a crest of feathers, and that he held 
 a gun in his hand. Then Paddy was undecided no longer. 
 Starting back, he ran into the house, his face as pale as 
 death and his limbs trembling at every joint. 
 
 " Why, what hast thou seen?" demanded Mrs. Schooley. 
 
 *' Tell me, Paddy, what it is !" cried Julia, with a smile. 
 
 But Paddy was almost speechless, and could barely 
 articulate the word " Indian !" 
 
 Ringo went out immediately, followed by Mr. Schooley 
 and Julia. The stranger had dismounted, tied his horse to a 
 tree, and was standing near the front entrance of the house. 
 
 "Who are you?" demanded Ringo. 
 
 " Thayendanegea," replied the Indian, with a lofty brow 
 and erect stature. 
 
 "That means Brandt, in English," said Ringo, ad- 
 vancing. " How do you do, Brandt ? I'm glad to see you. 
 How you have grown since I saw you last ! ^Vhy, you are 
 a large man, now !" 
 
 "Ay, and a sachem," said the young chief, smiling, (for 
 he could speak our language very well.) " But, tell me, how 
 high was the moon when the White Eagle departed toward 
 the Kittaning ?" 
 
 " White Eagle ?" 
 
 *' Ay : — my white brother." 
 
 " You mean the young Cameron ?" 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 " It was before the middle of the afternoon." 
 
 "And who was with him? By the trail I see there were 
 two, and one was of the Lenni Lenapp^ family, of which 
 I too am descended. His totem is on the tree at tho 
 crossing, a tortoise, like mine. His name ?" 
 
SECOND SERIES. 21 
 
 "We call him Bart Calvin," said Ringo. 
 
 "His name is ShaAvuskukhkung," said Brandt, without 
 other emotion than a slight sneer of contempt. " It is the 
 right name," he continued, " meaning, in your language, 
 Wilted Grass. The wild-flower perishes in the hothouses 
 of the pale-face, and, when cooped, the eagle becomes a 
 dunghill-fowl. The once mighty Algonquin droops like 
 wilted grass ! Its shrivelled branches should be bathed in 
 blood." 
 
 " Blood !" said Julia, who could not avoid admiring the 
 form and poetry of the speaker, but was startled at the 
 mention of the sanguinary remedy for the resuscitation of 
 a decaying race. 
 
 "And thou art the fair Antelope which charmed the eye 
 of the young eagle ? Thayendanegea, too, can write with 
 the quill, as well as his brother, and we have corre- 
 sponded." 
 
 " I have often heard him speak of thee," said Julia, 
 from habit using the terms employed in the family of her 
 guardian; " and he loves thee as a brother." 
 
 " I hope so," was Brandt's laconic reply. 
 
 " Come in," said Ringo. " Forgive me, Brandt, for my 
 forgetfulness." 
 
 " John," said Mr. Schooley, as the party entered the 
 house, " thee ought never to forget that hospitality is one 
 of the chief virtues in the estimation of the Indian." 
 
 Mrs. Ringo did not forget it; and the table was soon 
 spread, and honey and other luxuries, which had been 
 hitherto withheld, were placed before the young chief, who 
 partook of them without h'^sitation. 
 
 "And would not your horse like to have a bite?" asked 
 Ringo. 
 
 "A little," said Brandt. "Not much, like the horses 
 of the pale-faces." 
 
 "Paddy," continued Ringo, "you know my hostler has 
 the ager, and I can't leave my guest. Won't you bait* 
 the gentleman's horse for me? You needn't be afraid of 
 his taking your scalp." 
 
 " Is it a bating you would have me give him?" 
 
 *'yes, Paddy," said Ringo. 
 
 * This, too, was inserted in the journal of the author's friend. 
 
22 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " I'll do it !" said Paddy, quite reassured upon seeing 
 the Indian eating like other people, and somewhat enraged 
 at the twinkle of Brandt's eye when he recognised him as 
 the one who fled from the gate. 
 
 " Thee did expect to meet the White Eagle and Wilted 
 Grass at this place?" interrogated Mr. Schooley. 
 
 " White Eagle — not Wilted Grass. His speech, left at 
 the crossing, says the Antelope and her pale friends must 
 fill the wigwam here, and he will light a camp-fire some 
 miles distant on the path, which will guide me to his 
 couch." 
 
 "And thou didst call him brother?" 
 
 " I did. He was a pappoose when brought to our wig 
 wam, and lived with us until he began to pluck hairs from 
 his chin. We swam, and fished, and hunted together 
 among the cool lakes. I had lost my brother, and he sup- 
 plied his place. But the White Head came and removed 
 him to the college of the pale-faces. I will see him once 
 more. If he loves the pale-faces better than his brother, 
 he will desert the paths of the forest. Ha!" he ex- 
 claimed, rising, his eyes glowing with a sudden fierceness 
 as he heard the peculiar snort of his horse. He strode to 
 the window, and in amazement beheld Paddy belabouring 
 his steed with a stout branch of an apple-tree, which he 
 had wrested off at the corner of the orchard. Every time 
 the bough descended the heels of the animal flew up, and 
 Paddy had to exercise some skill in dodging. 
 
 Brandt rushed forth into the road, and, seizing the halter 
 and the bough at the same time, after bestowing the latter 
 upon the shoulders of the astonished Paddy, mounted his 
 Bteed and galloped away. 
 
 "Murther!" cried Paddy, running into the house : "he's 
 been bating me — the wild savage blackguard ! If I had 
 thought of my shelalah, I'd 'ave broken his punkin-head 
 for him!" 
 
 " Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, — while Julia was irre- 
 sistibly diverted, — "why didst thou beat his horse ?" 
 
 " Bate his horse? And sure Misther Rango tould me to 
 bate him." 
 
 " I meant a snack — a lunch — a bite of com ; but a stupid 
 Irishman never knows any thing in this country," said 
 Ringo. "And the Indian," he continued, evincing much 
 
SECOND SERIES. 2'6 
 
 fexation, " clashed off without getting an explanation, and 
 i*; may cost some of us our scalps if we have Avar with 
 them again." 
 
 "And it's a stupid Irishman, is it, Mr. Rango?" cried 
 Paddy, who had been touched in a tender place. *' Be the 
 powers, if you'll walk out on the grane wid me, we'll see 
 whose head is the softest!" 
 
 "Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, "be silent! Thee must 
 never have any strife in my service." 
 
 " I ax yer honour's pardon," responded Paddy, who 
 could not abide the idea of being discharged in such a 
 country as that. 
 
 " Ileigho!" sighed Mrs. Schooley, and then, rising in all 
 her native stateliness, suggested that it was time to be re- 
 posing after the fatigues of the journey. 
 
 "And Richard must have thought so a long time ago," 
 added Julia, who perceived that her ungallant beau had 
 succumbed to slumber in his chair. 
 
 After a somewhat lengthy prayer from Mr. Ringo, who 
 was a Presbyterian, — the stoical Quakers remaining stead- 
 fastly in their chairs, — the ladies were conducted into an 
 opposite room, while the male portion of the company re- 
 mained. It was thus they lodged in early times. Two 
 rooms, twenty feet square, suflSced for twenty lodgers. 
 
 The authentic traditions, which we follow without mate- 
 rial deviation, do not dwell upon the mere dreams of Julia 
 Lane, as she reposed upon her couch that night, with the 
 stars blinking upon her through the uncurtained window. 
 But doubtless the flowers she had found, and the inter- 
 pretation of the hieroglyphics she had seen, and which she 
 had been taught by Charles to render into good English, 
 were reproduced in her slumbers. « 
 
24 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT CAMP-FIRE — MEETING OF THE FOREST 
 CHIEFS. 
 
 "While our travellers are slumbering at "The Old Ringo 
 Tavern," we will accompany Thayendanegea to the camp 
 3f the White Eagle and Wilted Grass. 
 
 Having had many interviews with General Gage and 
 Sir William Johnston, Brandt had already resolved upon 
 the course he would pursue in the impending conflict. 
 And, whatever else may be said of the renowned chief by 
 poets and historians, it can never be truthfully alleged that 
 he was prompted in his action by either a mercenary mo- 
 tive or a cruel disposition. 
 
 A frown contracted the young chieftain's brow as he 
 swept past the cultivated fields, and ever and anon the new 
 foundations laid for the future residences of the encroach- 
 ing white man. The hills and valleys, where his fathers 
 had chased the deer from remotest ages, were to be torn 
 asunder by the ploughshare; the gurgling streams, which 
 had furnished them the delicious trout, werp to be dammed 
 by the millwright; and the majestic trees, w^ich had shel- 
 tered them in the solitudes of the forest, were to be laid 
 low, and the familiar haunts of the spirits of the great 
 departed were to be desecrated by the active cupidity 'f 
 European mercenaries. Such were the thoughts which 
 animated the young chief, as he pursued his solitary way, 
 and stimulated the resolve to be amply revenged. 
 
 It was near the hour of midnight when Brandt per- 
 ceived the glimmer of a light on an eminence to his left. 
 It was upon a knoll surrounded by ancient oaks, through 
 the interstices of which the sinking embers could be seen 
 at intervals. It had been one of the favourite camping- 
 grounds from time immemorial. Brandt had not revisited 
 it since the days of his early youth, and then Charles waa 
 vith him. 
 
MEETING OF CIIAKLES AND BRANDT.— r. 2j. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 25 
 
 The young chief dismounted and drew near the sinking 
 fire. In peace or ■war, the Indians do not generally have 
 sentinels at night. Brandt found the two young men 
 steeped in slumber; but the light was not sufficient to dis- 
 tinguish their faces. Their forms merely were discernible 
 as they lay together wrapped in their blankets. They had 
 made use of the decayed forks of the old camp, by placing 
 poles across and forming a shelter of bark. The rear of 
 the camp was protected by the fallen trunk of a gigantic 
 tree, and next to this were their heads, while their feet 
 reached nearly to the fire. 
 
 Brandt stood with folded arms, gazing intently. Had 
 he been an enemy, how easily he might have dispatched 
 them both! But such was not his mission. He was in 
 quest of friends and coadjutors. He made a single step 
 forward, as if to rouse them, but paused abruptly. In 
 the dusky gloom their features might not be distinctly re- 
 cognised. He turned away and noiselessly replenished 
 the fire. He then approached the open end of the camp, 
 and stood again with folded arms and a thoughtful brow. 
 
 Charles turned uneasily on his couch, and muttered in 
 his dream the following words: — "I am no Indian; I have 
 no savage blood in my veins." 
 
 Brandt started forward with a horrible scowl, snatched 
 the tomahawk from his belt, and flourished it menacingly 
 over Charles's head. But the next moment the shining 
 weapon was replaced, and the young Mohawk resumed his 
 meditative attitude. 
 
 Tiie dry wood was now crackling and blazing brightly, 
 and the whole scene became distinctly apparent. At 
 length a smile illuminated the handsome features of 
 Brandt, and, taking a reed fiom his bosom, played one 
 of the tunes familiar to the ears of Charles when gliding 
 over the smooth surface of the Ontario or floating in the 
 canoe on the waters of the gentle Wyalusing. At the 
 conclusion of the strain Charles rushed forth, and, T\-ith 
 the words, "Brother!" "My brother!" the young men 
 were locked in each other's arms. It had been five years 
 since they parted. Before that event, and for many years 
 previously, they had been inseparable. Charles had been 
 loved and treated quite as well as the lost son and brother 
 whose place he had been chosen to fill. No word of 
 
 ■3 
 
2h WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 lamentation for the dead had been uttered in the family 
 after the first month of his adoption. 
 
 After a prolonged silence, they sat down and smoked 
 the pipe which Brandt had filled, gazing with delight and 
 aff"ection at each other. 
 
 Wilted Grass came forth and sat down beside them. 
 
 " Shawuskukhkung," said Brandt, extending his hand. 
 " we, too, are brothers. We flow from the same parent 
 stream, — the Algonquin, — and come from the same Lenni 
 Lenappe family. Why should we widen the tract which 
 separates us?" 
 
 " Thayendanegea speaks the truth," replied the Dela- 
 ware chief. " But streams never more run together when 
 parted by mountains. I will die where my fathers died." 
 
 " But not live as they did. Your hunting-grounds are 
 turned into pig-pens." 
 
 " There is a land beyond the grave — forests where the 
 axe never sounds. Such are the peaceful hunting-grounds 
 of my fathers, and thither I will join them." 
 
 " True. But the same Great Spirit bestowed upon us 
 this beautiful land. Will it please him if we meanly sur- 
 render it to the trafficking stranger, from whom the game 
 flies in horror and disgust? Can a coward enter the hunt 
 ing-grounds of the spirit-land?" 
 
 " Thayendanegea, I am no coward," said the Delaware. 
 
 " Tschichohocki (Burlington) was once the Aallage of a 
 thousand braves. But the Mantas came from the slim- 
 creeks, and licked them into another shape, and blew 
 their own breath down their throats, and swam away witlL 
 their squaws to Matinicunk, where their children becam». 
 frogs." 
 
 "Frogs!" 
 
 " They still croak upon the banks of the Delaware 
 River; but Avhen danger approaches they close their eyes 
 and dive down to the bottom." 
 
 "And do you mean to call me a frog and a coward?'' 
 demanded the young Delaware, rising indignantly, with hia 
 hand on his tomahawk. 
 
 " I do not raise my hand against the Wilted Grass," 
 «?aid Brandt, with imperturbable composure. " When the 
 Great Council was held at the Forks of the Delaware, 
 your people were all women. Tecdyuscung, your head 
 
SECOND SERIES. 27 
 
 chief, spake without rising, like a squaw, until Tagashata 
 removed the petticoat which had once been worn at a treaty. 
 Then he was a great chief again." 
 
 "He was always a great chief," said the Delaware, re- 
 suming his seat with a sigh. "At that council he removed 
 the French hatclicts from the heads of the English. You 
 and I and White Eagle were present. We were too young 
 to listen ; but we were told afterward by our fathers what 
 had been done. The nations listened to Teedyuscung, and 
 made solemn pledges of peace. The Delawares forget not 
 their pledges." 
 
 " The Mohawks do not violate their treaties," said 
 Brandt. " The Five Nations then signed a treaty of 
 friendship with their Great Father over the broad water 
 They will keep their promise." 
 
 " You forget what the Senecas have since done, insti- 
 gated by their chief Tagashata. Five years after the 
 meeting of the Great Council they murdered Teedyus- 
 cung, and falsely said the English had perpetrated the foul 
 deed." 
 
 " Not the English, but the Y^'ankees, who were seizing 
 the Susquehanna valleys. And they say so still." 
 
 " But they say falsely. The Minisinks loved Teed- 
 yuscung, and it was known they would be revenged." 
 
 " Let us not discuss those things, my brother," sai(J 
 Charles. 
 
 " No !" cried Brandt, springing to his feet. " The past 
 is gone forever. We who were boys are men, and our 
 fathers have gone to the hunting-grounds of the spirit-land 
 unarmed and in fetters. Let us follow them with our rifles, 
 that they may eat. It was you, my brother, I wished to 
 go with us. The W^ilted Grass will bend over the graces 
 of his kindred. But the nations of the West will come in 
 multitudes, like the leaves and the stars. The blood of 
 our enemies will run into the sea, like the rushing streams 
 after a mighty storm. Let your face not be white." 
 
 " The Great Spirit made it white," said Charles. 
 
 " But that was when you dwelt beyond the broad water. 
 It was the Great Spirit also that made Thayendanegea call 
 the White Eagle his brother." 
 
 " But who are the enemies you speak of?" 
 
 " They who brought the small-pox and the fire-water ; 
 
LC "WILD ^YESTERN SCENES: 
 
 ■who stop our running streams and hack down our trees 
 The elk and deer have fled to the mountains, the buff:ilo tc 
 the plains near the setting sun. Our homes are desohite. 
 The wolf and the owl and the rattlesnake only remain. 
 We, the lords of the wilderness, to whom the Great Spirit 
 gave the whole country, now flit like dusky bats in the 
 shadows of the evening. My brother, scalding tears roll 
 down my cheeks. It is the last time. The Great Spirit 
 calls upon us once more to hurl the invaders from our 
 shores. It is the last call. Look up through the weeping 
 leaves at the stars. During many thousands of moons 
 they smiled on our happy people. The song of joy echoed 
 through the valleys around. The merry dance was pro- 
 longed till morning beneath the boughs of these spreading 
 oaks. All is silent and desolate now; and the last chief 
 of a mighty race stands by a solitary camp-fire and mourns 
 in tears. My brother, I dash these woman's tears into 
 the ashes at my feet. The spirits of my fathers shall not 
 grieve for the bondage of their son. I Avill break the 
 chains the white man has drawn around me. I will die 
 with the tomahawk in one hand and a scalping-knife in the 
 other. I hurl away the pipe of peace. \Var is declared !" 
 
 " War against whom, my brother ?" asked Charles. 
 
 "Against whom ? Alas ! I fear, against my brother, if 
 he will not fight at my side. Against the white man ! 
 First, against those who fell our trees and dig our grounds; 
 next against the army of King George. The royalists and 
 the rebels shall slaughter each other, and we will slay the 
 survivors." 
 
 " Ila ! ha ! Brandt, you are mad !" 
 
 " I am. And there is no time for idle delay. Will the 
 White Eagle return with his brother to the lakes ?" 
 
 "No; not if my brother intends to come back and 
 tomahawk my father. But I will go with him if he will 
 remain at peace." 
 
 " Peace ! My brother does not seem to know that the 
 Five — or rather the Six — Nations have already sounded the 
 warwhoop. Only a few trembling Cayugas and Oneidaa 
 remain with their women. And the great tribes of the 
 West arc echoing the scalp-halloo from the Avar-patiis of the 
 mountains. The royal governors of Pennsylvania, Nev 
 Jersey, and New York, have sent us arms and money." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 
 
 2b 
 
 "I feared so," said Charles, dcspondingly. 
 
 "Feared, brother l"' 
 
 "Not for myself." 
 
 "Who, then?" 
 
 " You, and thy devoted race. My brother, our Great 
 Father over the broad water is a bad man. Plis armies 
 will be beaten. The Americans will ti'iumph, and the poor 
 Indian be the last victim." 
 
 " Farewell, my brother. The day is dawning. I go alone, 
 unless Shawuskukhkung will accompany me." 
 
 " I will die in peace by the graves of my fathers on the 
 Bea-shore," said Wilted Grass, his head drooping on his 
 breast. 
 
 Just then a hailing halloo was heard in the valley below, 
 where the path diverged from the main road, and the party 
 in the camp became singularly excited at so unexpected a 
 salutation. It proceeded evidently from a party of Indians 
 or from men ftimiliarly conversant with their mode of shout- 
 ing. Brandt answered it ; and a few minutes after three 
 men — two Indians and a tall white man — came trotting up to 
 the encampment. The white man was the famous Simon 
 Girty, who had been dwelling among the Western Indians 
 since the French war, and had been taken prisoner about 
 the time of Braddock's defeat. The others were the chiefs 
 of the Shawnees and the Ottoways, — Cornstalk and Pontiac. 
 
 "And you will join your brother, I suppose?" said Girty, 
 in the English language, to young Cameron. 
 
 " I shall remain at home in peace, if possible," said 
 Charles. 
 
 " It will not be possible. You must be with us or 
 against us. And you will have to decide without delay. 
 Already preparations are being made in every direction. 
 I am now returning by night marches from a conference 
 with Lord Dunmore, the Governor of Virginia, and with 
 messages for the Western tribes. A secret treaty has been 
 concluded with the Ottoways and Shawnees, and we are 
 authorized to engage the Creeks, Cherokees, Potowottomies, 
 Wyandots, and all the other powerful tribes, to fall upon 
 the rebels. And the rebels are about to appoint George 
 Washington their general. There will be stirring times " 
 
 "/ will not stir, if I can help it. I will not take up 
 arms against the colonists, who have demanded nuthinp; 
 
 a* 
 
30 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 but justice from their oppressor. And, Gifty," Le con' 
 tinned, in a low tone, " beware what you do. You know, 
 I, too, was a prisoner, and have had an opportunity to 
 learn something of the intention of the Indians." 
 
 " I know what you mean. They propose assisting the 
 British to destroy the Americans, and then exterminating 
 their ally. You and I are aware of the impossibility of 
 Euch a thing. But, if it were practicable, it would be our 
 best policy to become red men." 
 
 " Once more, my brother," said Brandt, approaching 
 Charles, "I ask you to go with us." 
 
 "No!" said Charles. 
 
 " Then, farewell ! But, if we should meet again in 
 bloody strife, still, let us remember we were brothers." 
 
 " I would have it so, Thayendanegea. But I have no 
 desire to spill any man's blood, and I hope this war may 
 be smothered in its birth. I go to see my gray-haired 
 father ; after that, I know not what I shall do. I did 
 hope to fish and hunt with my brother on tlie head-waters 
 of the Susquehanna. But such may not be if the scalp- 
 halloo reverberates through the valleys. Give this to the 
 Brown Thrush, my sister. Tell her the "White Eagle will 
 dream of her, although he may not see her." 
 
 Brandt opened the casket which had been placed in his 
 band, and glanced at the jeAvels that were to adorn his 
 sister's brow and wrists ; and then, gazing silently and 
 long at his white brother, turned slowly away and joined 
 the departing guests, who had completed the scanty meal 
 which had been placed before them. 
 
 And Charles and his Delaware companion followed soon 
 after. They had not proceeded more than a mile, how- 
 ever, when they beheld Brandt returning at a brisk pace. 
 
 "My brother," said Brandt, "when the Brown Thrush 
 shall look upon these presents, she will wish to know how 
 long the AVhite Eagle means to stay away. She will ask 
 me if thou art betrothed to the lovely Antelope of whom 
 thou hast written more than once. What shall Thayen- 
 danegea say ?" 
 
 "Say I am not betrothed to the fair maiden: only 
 that she Avas as kind to me as a sister, when I had no other 
 friend. I Avill see the Brown Thrush again; 1 know not 
 when. You can speak for me.' 
 
SECOND SERIES. 31 
 
 " The Antelope is very beautiful. I have seen her.'' 
 
 " When ?" 
 
 " Last night. And I saw thy tokens. But I will not 
 tell my sister. She would be broken-hearted, and sing no 
 more. Farewell — if thou wilt not go with me." 
 
 "Farewell!" said Charles, and the chief rode furiously 
 away. 
 
 CHAPTER rV. 
 
 THE FOREST HOME — NIGHT SCENE. 
 
 The sun was descending in the azure west, when the 
 carriage suddenly paused. It had reached the summit of 
 the Jenny Jump Mountain, in the southern part of Sussex 
 county. 
 
 " Why hast thou stopped, Patrick ?" asked Mr. Schooley, 
 as he thrust his head out of the window, and to do which 
 it was necessary for him to remove the broad-brimmed hat 
 from his head. 
 
 "■Plase yer honour, the horses had a dazziness in theif 
 heads, and I was afraid they'd fall off the mountain. It's 
 so high, yer honour, it almost takes my breath." 
 
 Mr. Schooley descended to the ground, and stood for 
 several moments gazing at the scene. There were no pre- 
 cipices near, and the surface was almost level on the emi- 
 nence where the horses stood. But the surrounding 
 scenery Avas sublime, gilded by the golden tints of the de- 
 clining sun. Behind was the Musconetcong Mountain, 
 which they had passed several hours previously, and before 
 them rose the Blue Mountain, enclosing the intermediate 
 space, like the walls of an impregnable fortress. Far to 
 the left, but distinctly perceptible, a depression in the range 
 indicated the locality of the Delaware Gap, and seemed to 
 be the only outlet from the vast enclosure — the stupendous 
 battlements on either hand being some two thousand feet 
 in height. 
 
 Not many settlements now met the view. Some five o; 
 
32 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 BIX primitive farm-houses were all that could be discoverea 
 in a diameter of several miles. But near the base of the 
 hill called the Jenny Jump Mountain, which attained an 
 elevation of some six or eight hundred feet, was a massive 
 stone structure, being the church edifice of a small colony 
 of Moravians, founded by the good Count Zinzendorf. 
 
 Even the stoicism of Thomas Schooley yielded for a 
 moment to the enthusiastic admiration inspired by the 
 landscape; and he turned to the carriage-door and beck- 
 oned Julia, who had just awakened from a short slumber, 
 to join him. She did so with alacrity, and stood enrap- 
 tured, gazing at the spectacle. Then she uttered incessant 
 exclamations of delight, while the staid Mrs. Schooley and 
 the sober Richard listened with imperturbable gravity. 
 
 " Thee seems to be pleased with the features of the 
 country," remarked Mr. Schooley, his rigid lips relaxing 
 almost into a smile. 
 
 "Oh, enchanted!" 
 
 " But if there were fewer hills and rocks, and more acres 
 of arable land, both thee and I would be the richer," said 
 Mr. Schooley. 
 
 "And yet Mr. Green wrote us that there were many 
 arable slopes and valleys," said Julia. 
 
 " True ; Samuel did say so, and he is a good judge of 
 land. No doubt he made good selections for himself. That 
 is his house on the hill near the church." 
 
 " Can we not see the house we are to occupy?" 
 
 " Thee can see it, but indistinctly, to the left of the vil- 
 lage." 
 
 " Where there is a forest of dead trees?" 
 
 " Yea ; they stand in the largest field, and were girdled 
 by William Van Wiggens, our overseer." 
 
 " Girdled ? And did that kill the trees»2" 
 
 " Thee must not think he belted them with gaudy ribbon, 
 as thee sometimes does thy frail waist. What is meant by 
 girdling is the cutting round the tree through the bark, 
 which prevents the sap from ascending, and the tree dieth, 
 just as the doctors say the habit of tightly belting the hu- 
 man chest produces disease and death." 
 
 " But, Thomas, why should William Van Wiggens kill 
 the poor trees ?" 
 
 " He did it by my direction. In the autumn the storms 
 
SECOND SERIES. 33 
 
 nnd the axe will remove the trunlvs, and then we will have 
 lields Avhich may be cultivated with profit. To the right of 
 the opening, if thee will look steadily, thee may see the 
 roof of the house we are to dwell in." 
 
 '*I see it ! A long, double, tAvo-story log-house ! And 1 
 Bee the barn, and the orchard beyond, and cows grazing 
 within it. Oh, I am so impatient to be there ! I shall be 
 delighted, Thomas, with our forest home. And it has a 
 southern aspect, sloping gently down to the meandering 
 ravine. Flowers will flourish there. And is there not a 
 brook of crystal Avater flowing through the ravine?" 
 
 " Yea ; a beautiful stream, that empties into the Paulins- 
 kill. It has many trout in it ; but I have never taken any 
 of them, and Richard has no taste for idle sports." 
 
 " Oh, let us be going ! I am impatient to be at home in 
 the wilderness, and to explore every grove and rock and 
 cave and streamlet !" 
 
 When they resumed their seats, Paddy found no difficulty 
 in proceeding, as the horses seemed to be recovered from 
 their dizziness. And, as they descended from the summit 
 of the Jenny Jump, Mr. Schooley endeavoured to describe 
 to his family the condition of things they must be prepared 
 to encounter at their new home. Nor had the far-seeing 
 Quaker neglected to make the necessary preparations for 
 his removal to a place of supposed security. The preced- 
 ing year he had contracted Avith some of the numerous 
 family of Stouts, and Mr. Green, to have him a dwelling 
 and the usual out-houses completed by the ensuing spring ; 
 and he had sent up Van Wiggens with several slaves (the 
 Quakers then Avere slaveholders) to girdle the trees for a 
 new field and to raise a crop of corn. 
 
 The site had once been the abode of a squatter, without 
 any title to the land, and the rude hut he had occupied was 
 now the hen-house. But there remained more than a hun- 
 dred noble fruit-trees of his planting, now in perfect ma- 
 turity ; and there were several acres of well-cleared land 
 in the immediate vicinity, a portion of Avhich had been en- 
 closed for a garden, and Avas to be under the special super- 
 intendence of Paddy Pence, directed by the fair Julia. 
 
 Farming implements, articles of furniture, and other in- 
 dispensable household goods, had been sent up from time to 
 time in barges Van Wiggens had superintended every 
 
34 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 thing In his eyes the house was a palace and the lands 
 a princely estate ; for he was descended from one of the 
 original Dutch families that lived and died on the broken 
 hills of the highlands on the Hudson. And now he was to 
 receive his reward. Fifty acres of good land at the foot 
 of a hill in the vicinity were to be his own, to be conveyed 
 to him and his heirs forever. Nor was this all. Thomas 
 Schooley was to furnish him with the implements of a 
 blacksmith-shop, William having learned the trade in a 
 Dutch smithy. .The anvil, the bellows, &c. were already 
 on the way, and Van Wiggens ought to have been a happy 
 man and his wife a happy woman, for they had been re- 
 cently married. 
 
 At length the travellers were at the end of their journey, 
 and William Van Wiggens and his wife Joan stood at the 
 door to receive them. Julia bounded from the carriage, 
 and was the iii'st to receive their greetings. 
 
 "Why, William," said she, "you and Joan look as se- 
 dately as an old married couple." Joan was older than 
 her husband ; but girls were not so abundant in those 
 days. 
 
 " Yes, miss, I'm dirty," said Van Wiggens, who could 
 not easily pronounce the tli, "and my vife is dirty-two." 
 " He means thirty-two," said Mrs. Van Wiggens. 
 Julia continued onward, laughing heartily, until she was 
 arrested by Rose, — a very black rose, — who had nursed her 
 when an infant, and who now attempted to lift her up in 
 her arms. 
 
 " My sweet mistress — my baby dear — come to lib wid 
 old Rose ! I blesses de very arth you treads on ! Why, 
 Julie, you are a woman now. Gor bless your happy little 
 heart !" 
 
 " I have a large heart, Rose, and it beats with true aifec- 
 tion for my kind, fixithful nurse. Release me now. I must 
 see my room and gaze out of the window. There ! That 
 is my sweet wood-robin in the pear-tree. Listen ! It is a 
 Bong of welcome." 
 
 " Oh, Mi?s Julie," said Rose, following, " de trees are 
 full of 'em. Dey sing from morning to night. In de 
 night de owls come after 'em ; but I knew you w^ouldu't 
 have 'em eaten up, and so I made Sambo shoot de big- 
 headed varmints." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 3f. 
 
 "Thank you, Rose," said Juli:i, who had found her 
 chamb{;r, aiid was now standing before a phiin bureau, 
 upon which stood a small mirror, arranging her hair. 
 
 "Yes, Julie, and I made Sambo dig up all de pretty 
 flowers in de woods and plant 'em for you in de garden." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you. Rose ; but I hope he did not 
 dig quite all, as I am also fond of seeing them wild in tho 
 forest." 
 
 " Lor' bless your sweet life, I don't mean ebery one ! 
 Goodness ! dere's more floweis in de w'oods dan all de 
 niggers in Jarsey could dig up in a lifetime. But, Julie, 
 dere's some frightful-looking snakes in de woods, too." 
 
 "No rose without its thorn. Rose." 
 
 " Dat's edzactly what master used to say. But you can 
 tie some bark on your legs like de Deckers did, and den 
 dey cin't hurt you." 
 
 " I don't understand you. Rose." 
 
 "Dey peel de bark off de young chestnut-trees and 
 wrap it round der legs, and de snakes can't bite through it." 
 
 " Oh, I understand. But I will keep out of their reach. 
 Is there any one, Rose, in the neighbourhood, who can tell 
 long stories of winter evenings about the Indians and the 
 wild beasts?" 
 
 " Lor' bless you, Mr. Green will set in de chimley-corner 
 and talk all night if anybody'll listen. And he'll make 
 your blood run cold wid his frightful tales. And de Indians 
 does come sometimes ; but dey're friendly. Den dere's 
 bears, and painters, and catamounds I — I'm afraid your little 
 heart'll be frightened out ob you." 
 
 " Not it ! You know, Rose, I was never a fearful girl. 
 I am sure I shall be charmed. I like the wild woods — 
 though I would have no objection to a fcAV neighbours of the 
 right sort. I suppose there are some agreeable people 
 livinor near — I mean within three or four miles, — besides 
 the Stouts and Mr. Green?" 
 
 " Precious few, I tell you. Dere's one man living at 
 de Jenny Jump cliff, in a kind ob crow's-nest ob a house. 
 But I neber saw anybody who had been in it, 'cept Hugh 
 MacSwine, his agent, and he's as sour as a green persim- 
 mon, and dey tink de master's as surly's de maiv ' 
 
 "What is his name. Rose?" 
 
 *^^\)(ij call him Cameron." 
 
36 "liVILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " That ■will do, Rose. You had better go to Mrs. Schoolej 
 now. She maj require jour services, and I can take care 
 of myself." 
 
 Left alone, Julia pondered in silence over the discovery 
 she had made. She was not really in love with Charles, 
 but she admired him, and she had reason to believe the 
 friendly feeling was reciprocal. She had heard much and 
 read n:iuch of the magic influence of love ; but she could 
 not believe she was then in imminent danger of beincr 
 swayed by its mysterious fascinations. She felt not the 
 slightest alarm, and perhaps she could not have been made 
 sensible of her peril. 
 
 During the first day after their arrival, the Burlington 
 family were engaged in explorations within and without the 
 house. The dwelling was quite spacious in dimensions, and, 
 although neither plastered nor papered, the fireplaces 
 seemed sufficiently ample to heat the apartments in wintei", 
 and there would certainly be no scarcity of fuel. And the 
 rooms seemed to be furnished with every thing needful for 
 the substantial comfort of the occupants. Indeed, but few 
 articles of fancy were to be found in the parlours of the 
 most wealthy city Quakers. 
 
 Mrs. Schooley was pleased — at least uncomplaining, — and 
 Julia seemed really delighted. The climbers — Cocculus 
 Carolinus and Vitus rotundifolia — which had been sent up 
 were living where they had been planted, on each side of 
 the main entrance. Then there was the garden, — an acre, 
 at least, — and it had been enclosed with rude palings. There 
 were rose-bushes (mainly the beautiful and fragrapt da 
 mask) and lilacs at the corners of the borders. The fruit- 
 trees were in blossom, and the birds in full song. 
 
 The lowing cows came up from the wild pasture? to be 
 milked, the pigs squealed in the pen for their food, and the 
 fowls cackled in the barnyard. All was freshness and 
 novelty, and Julia ran from one object of admiration to 
 another like a gleesome school-girl. And Richard did his 
 utmost to please her. He Avorked all day in the field with 
 the slaves, and at eve brought in such blossoms as he could 
 find among the bushes in the woods, mostly white and 
 purple — the Cercis Canadensis and Cornus Florida. 
 
 Julia was thankful for every thing and to every one, and 
 always happy. A large black Newfoundland dog on tke 
 
SRCOXD SRRIKS. 37 
 
 place became attached to her, and was her inseparable 
 companion whenever she emerged from the house. This 
 was a great satisfaction, as it would not have been prudent 
 for her to venture on the extensive rambles she meditated, 
 without some sort of a protector. Richard was too indus- 
 trious to lose any time in that way, and the corn was yet 
 anplanted. But Solo was a sufficient guard and Tcom- 
 panion. 
 
 During the first week of her sojourn at her forest-home, 
 Julia had been visited by Charles; and they laughed heartily 
 over the subject of his picture and flower-writing, which 
 had been so mysterious or unmeaning a thing to Richard 
 and his unsophisticated parents. 
 
 But, if there were mysteries hidden from the old folks, 
 they likewise possessed their secret, of which the young 
 people had never dreamed. Charles and Julia had been 
 aware of the frequent conferences held with Mr. Green, the 
 surveyor, but could never have supposed the discussion 
 referred to themselves or could in the slightest degree 
 afiect their interests. 
 
 They were not, however, to remain long in ignorance. 
 The time appointed for the "shadows of coming events" to 
 cross their path was at hand. A few hours more, and new 
 subjects of meditation would be presented to them ; but 
 the short interval before the announcement was passed in 
 almost perfect bliss, which is so often succeeded in this 
 world by unhappiness. 
 
 Tea was just over. Richard had departed to the field, 
 accompanied by the slaves, to labour for an hour in the 
 night, and Mr. Green, as usual, had come to talk away the 
 evening with the old people. Charles and Julia sallied 
 forth, accompanied by the faithful Solo, to witness a spec- 
 tacle which Richard had promised them, — an idea originated 
 by Richard himself, and inspired, as he said, by the desire 
 to exhibit something that would be magnificent in Julia's 
 eyes. But it would be impossible for him to attend her 
 during the evening. His time and labour would be required 
 m the field. Charles, no doubt, would be willing to accom- 
 pany her. 
 
 It was truly to be a spectacle o^ _^reat giandeur and 
 sublimity. For days the fallen boughs of the dead trees 
 had been piled around the bases of the standing trunks; 
 
38 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 and now, as the darkest hues of night were descending on 
 the wild landscape, the heaps of dry wood were to be 
 simultaneously ignited bj the torches flitting between 
 them. 
 
 Charles and Julia stood upon a knoll a few hundred 
 yards distant from the scene, and Solo lay at their feet. 
 During the hush that prevailed in the moment of expecta- 
 tion, a whippoorwill, frightened from the field, perched upon 
 a rock in their immediate vicinity and uttered Lis mono- 
 tonous wail. Ever and anon a panic-stricken hare bounded 
 past, which Solo would pursue no farther than he could see 
 it by starlight. 
 
 Ere long a deep red glare appeared on the dense woods 
 which surrounded the field, and it was faintly visible on 
 the faces of the young couple, while Solo's eyes resem- 
 bled balls of fire. Some forty piles of dry boughs sent 
 up their startling flames, roaring like an approaching 
 hurricane. 
 
 "Beautiful! Seethe tall pines!" exclaimed Julia, re- 
 leasing Charles's arm, and clapping her hands together. 
 But, in the movement, the mantle which had enveloped her 
 fell to the ground. Charles lifted it up and replaced it, 
 gently encircling her form with his arm 
 
 The trunks of the gigantic trees, charged with inflam- 
 mable resin, soon presented 'great columns of fire, rising 
 high in the air. The illumination revealed the dusk)t 
 forms of distant mountains, appearing like huge monsters 
 reposing in the night ; and, as the flames leaped upward, 
 the whirling sparks seemed to mingle with the stars. Solo 
 looked at the face of his mistress, and uttered a piteous 
 whine. 
 
 "Poor Solo!" said she; "he seems to think we are in 
 danger." 
 
 "And really, Julia," said Chai-les, gazing at her delicate 
 features, "you are very pale." 
 
 " It is the contrast between the light and shade. The 
 reflection on one side of your face makes the other seem 
 like marble. I never felt less fear in my life. And, pray, 
 what is there to frighten me?" 
 
 " Nothing, that I am aware of; and I am sure no injury 
 can result from the magnificent conflagration before us. 
 And yet, I confess, there is a singular weight oppressing 
 
SECOND SERIES. 39 
 
 me, — a sort of indescribable pain which is sometimes the 
 premonition of a dreadful event." 
 
 " Dreadful event? And what could that he?" 
 
 " I know not, Julia, unless it be a separation from thee, 
 and being forced into the scene of strife which may follow 
 the unhappy differences between the parent country and 
 the colonies. 
 
 "And that would be a dreadful event?' 
 
 "Undoubtedly." 
 
 *' It would indeed be terrible to see the fires of civil 
 war, and of a war of invasion, lighting the hills and val- 
 leys with the destruction of happy homes, while the red 
 glare of the conflagrations would rest upon the faces of 
 thousands of miserable outcasts, as the reflection of these 
 flames is resting upon ours. Perhaps your depression may 
 be the result of some such apprehension as that." 
 
 " It may be — certainly must be — in part. But to think 
 of the blood that must be spilled, the great guns and 
 gleaming swords of the civilized nations, and the whoop 
 and scalping-knife of the impetuous savages ! — Julia, what 
 would become of thee ? In such a contest neither sex, age, 
 or condition, would be respected." 
 
 " Me? Oh, I should not have a particle of fear. I do 
 not think any one could harbour a purpose of harming me. 
 I have never injured any one." 
 
 " You know not what would happen." 
 
 " No. Nor would I desire to know beforehand. But I 
 think I should meet my fate with a brave heart. Mercy 
 on us !" she exclaimed, starting back and clinging involun- 
 tarily to Charles. 
 
 The largest tree in the field, which had been for some 
 time completely enveloped in curling flames, fell, with a 
 thundering sound, and with its top toward the young 
 couple. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Julia," said Charles, " it is a full quarter of 
 a mile distant." 
 
 " It seemed as if it would reach us. Let us return. 
 Why, Solo!" she continued, as her dog sprang up and 
 barked fiercely at some object, apparently but a short 
 distance frOm them, in the almost impenetrable thicket 
 behind. 
 
 '• It is a fox, perhaps, or a cat. I could soon ascertain. 
 
40 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 Yet it is harJl J necessary," said Charles, yielding to Julia'? 
 inclination to depart. " But," he continued, somewhat 
 sadly, as they proceeded slowly toward the house, " the 
 horrors of both a civilized and a savage warfare may be in 
 fearful proximity, and we should be prepared for the worst. 
 You are the only friend I possess, Julia — I mean among 
 the white people, — and I shall be very unhappy if any evil 
 befalls you." 
 
 "Do you really think there is danger here?" she asked, 
 quickly. 
 
 ' Not more than there would be elsewhere. My father 
 says the battles will be fought between the cities of New 
 York and Philadelphia. The oldest settlements will be 
 the scenes of the greatest carnage. He deems the con- 
 flict inevitable, and I believe in his prescience. No doubt 
 roving bands of Indians will descend from the lakes — " 
 
 "And will they join the British?" 
 
 "Yes, too many of them. But they have a supersti- 
 tious reverence for the Moravians, and for their founder, 
 Zinzendorf. With them, if danger assails thee, thou 
 may est, perhaps, find safety." 
 
 " I will remember. But thy father ? Why has he not 
 been to see us?" 
 
 " He sees no one, for reasons he will not explain. Suf- 
 fice it that he is experienced in war, and has led thousands 
 to the conflict. His counsel is to be respected. But he 
 will never draw his own sword again. He desires to live 
 and die in the solitude of his chosen seclusion. You will 
 see him some day, I trust ; and he will please you and 
 be pleased, I am sure. You will find he has been accus- 
 tomed to associate with princes ; but do not mention this, 
 Julia." 
 
 " I will not ; but why not ?" 
 
 "No matter, now. Here is your guardian and Mr. 
 Green coming to meet us. Mr. Schooley beckons me 
 away. Mr. Green will conduct you in. Adieu — if we 
 should not meet again to-night." 
 
 They were approaching the huge stile in front of the 
 house, when Mr. Schooley called the young man aside. 
 
 " Thou hast been witnessing a grand scene, Charles. The 
 ashes will be good manure, and there will be a larger space 
 for the plough. But it seemed like a pity to destroy so 
 
SECOND SERTEa. 41 
 
 irnch wood, which would have been very valuable in some 
 places." 
 
 "It was a fine sight for Julia," said Charles; "but I 
 have witnessed larger conflagrations." 
 
 " When thee dwelt among the Indians, thee, no doubt, 
 saw whole forests in flames." 
 
 " Yes, and vast plains, one sheet of roaring fire." 
 
 "What destruction of vegetation ! and by those, too, in- 
 capable of appreciating its uses and value ! But I desired 
 to speak with thee, Charles, in relation to thy father." 
 
 " My father, sir !" 
 
 " Thee need not be surprised. He is my neighbour ; 
 and thee knows the Bible says, ' Thou shalt love thy 
 neighbour as thyself.' And how may that be done where 
 neighbours never meet and do not see each other? Ac- 
 cording to the custom of the country, thy father should 
 have paid rae the first visit; but thee knows I am no 
 respecter of etiquette, and I am willing to make the first 
 visit to thy father." 
 
 "I will signify your wish, sir," said Charles, somewhat 
 gravely; "but you must be aware that my father never 
 goes into company, and, consequently, that he cannot be 
 desirous of receiving visitors." 
 
 " Very true. But thee may say that I wish to see him 
 on business." 
 
 " Business ? Oh, I will say so, sir. The nature of the 
 business it will not be necessary for me to announce to 
 him." 
 
 " Thee may do so. It is in regard to the lines of our 
 land, — a tract held jointly by thy acquaintance Julia and 
 myself, which runs in the immediate neighbourhood of thy 
 father's house. Mr. Green, the surveyor, is of opinion 
 that the house is on our land. And, if it be so, thee knows 
 thy father should be informed of it, as there might be a 
 gold-mine involved in it." 
 
 " I will repeat your words, sir," was the careless reply 
 of the young man, upon whom the Quaker had supposed 
 the announcement would produce a very different effect. 
 
 In short, the frequent conferences between Mr. Green 
 and Mr. Schooley had reference to the whispered rumour 
 that gold existed in vast quantities in the cliff, at the base 
 of which the hut of Mr. Cameron was situated; and it 
 
 4* 
 
42 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 was believed that the white-haired Scotchman had found 
 access to it. Else why did he persist in maintaining so 
 strict a seclusion? And how else could he have obtained 
 the means of bestowing a collegiate education on his son? 
 His man, McSwine, had been sent twice a year to New 
 York, from whom, of course, nothing could be learned ; 
 but it was inferred that he carried the precious metal with 
 him to exchange for coin, with which the expenses of 
 Charles, at Princeton, were defrayed. 
 
 After a rather embarrassing pause, caused by the sur- 
 prise of Mr. Schooley, Charles departed for the humble 
 residence of his father. 
 
 And in the mean time Mr. Green had improved the op- 
 portunity to impart to Julia the fact that a portion of the 
 land occupied by Mi Cameron belonged, in all probability, 
 to herself; and, furthermore, that it might be the reposi- 
 tory of the precious metal so long believed to be hidden in 
 the vicinity. 
 
 "If this be so," said Julia, with seriousness, "it would 
 be a pity to deprive him of it," 
 
 " Thee must be very generous," said Mrs. Schooley, 
 " not to take what is thine own, for fear of depriving a 
 stranger of it, and one who has no title to it." 
 
 "Oh, madam," said Julia, "thou knowest I leave the 
 management of all business matters to Thomas. But, still, 
 I cannot help thinking how great a disappointment it 
 would be for another to relinquish an estate after long 
 supposing it to be fairly his own.' 
 
 "But paid for it with thy gold, perhaps: thee must net 
 forget that," said Mary, rising, and going out in obedience 
 to a signal from Thomas, who appeared at the door. 
 
 Mr. Green, being left alone with Julia, did not hesitate 
 to touch upon another matter, which be was well assured 
 would not be displeasing to Mr. and Mrs. Schooley, or their 
 thrifty and industrious son. 
 
 "In all such matters, Miss Lane," resumed Mr. Green, 
 who really spoke without disingenuousness, " I can have 
 no other object than to promote the interest of my friends. 
 Whatever may be the result of the discovery which we 
 ihink has been made, / can neither sustain any injury or 
 derive any benefit." 
 
 " Of course not, Mr. Green," said Julia; "and you must 
 
SECOND SERIFS. 43 
 
 not suppose me capable of being offended at any part you 
 may take in the proceeding." 
 
 " Oh, I am under obligations to your late respected 
 father and to Mr. Schooley. And, if I might be so bold 
 as to utter a particular wish I have long indulged, regard- 
 ing the crowning of your happiness — of the happiness of 
 both families " 
 
 "Pray, speak on, Mr. Green," said Julia, smiling. 
 "You have permission to speak plainly." 
 
 " Then it is this : that all the lands may descend to the 
 heirs without division. I mean, as the lands are undivided, 
 that the heirs may be united." 
 
 " Oh, in marriage !" 
 
 " That is it ! And Master Richard, I believe, sighs for 
 such a union." 
 
 " Mr. Green, I am sure you must be mistaken. He has 
 never said so himself." 
 
 " He is diflSdent. But you may rely upon it." 
 
 " But then it would be impracticable, because we belong 
 to different churches." 
 
 " You can thee and tliou as well as the rest of them ; 
 and I supposed you attended their meetings." 
 
 " I have gone to them, but came away no wiser than 
 before, because the Spirit did not move them to speak. 
 No, indeed; I am an Episcopalian." 
 
 " I am a Baptist, and would be the last person to advise 
 any one to give up the church of his choice. Still, I think 
 the obstacle could be removed. But pardon me — I will 
 not pursue the subject. Where there is a will there is a 
 way." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Schooley then entered, and the subject of 
 the impending war became the topic of conversation. 
 
 Julia repeated the opinion of the elder Cameron as it 
 had been expressed by Charles. 
 
 " Then he seems to take some interest in the world 
 beyond the cliff," said Mr. Schooley. 
 
 "Oh, yes," continued Julia, "and he has much experi- 
 ence, no doubt, in Avars — and — or — I mean — from his great 
 age I should think so," she added, checking herself. 
 
 "Did Charles tell thee so?" asked Mr. Schooley. 
 
 "He said he had faith in his father's judgment," re- 
 plied the startled girl. " And Charles is decidedly of th« 
 
44 WILD WESTERN SCENES . 
 
 opinion that the Indians will generally espouse the royal 
 side." 
 
 "And Charles's opinion is correct," said Mr. Green. 
 "Although they do not know which side I will take, I 
 have already had a message from King Shingas of the 
 Korthern Delawares, and Brandt, of the Mohawks, to be 
 prepared for flight. I have rendered some services to 
 several of the great chiefs, and therefore am I warned 
 by them. Yet I do not think there is any immediate 
 danger." 
 
 " But I shall take neither side," said Thomas. " That 
 is, I will commit no violence on either side, although I shall 
 be rejoiced when the rebellion is put down, as I have no 
 doubt it will be. And if the Indians fight for the king, 
 they will hardly molest me — a loyal subject." 
 
 After relating to Julia the manner in which he had ob- 
 tained the friendship of the Indians, Mr. Green withdrew, 
 promising to attend Mr. Schooley during his interview 
 with the elder Cameron. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HERMIT — HIS SECRET — SCENE AT THE TREB— «OLEMN 
 
 VOWS — Moody's appearance. 
 
 Charles determined to seize the first opportunity, toth 
 to propose to his father the reception of friendlv victors 
 and to expostulate upon the impolicy of occupying so mean 
 a house. 
 
 It was with this bold resolution that he arose the second 
 morning after his interview with Mr. Schooley, and occu- 
 pied the rude seat opposite his father at the morning re- 
 past. Mr. Cameron was not exceeding sixty years of age, 
 although his bleached locks and profuse grizzly beard 
 had created the impression that he was much older. Hiu 
 form was tall and erect, and his frame, though not robusj 
 
BECOND SERIES. 45 
 
 was not fragile. His face was very pale, and his eyes 
 dark, clear, and piercing. 
 
 Hugh McSwine moved backward and forward between 
 the table and the broad fireplace, serving his patron and 
 his son. 
 
 After partaking of the viands in silence, Charles broached 
 the subject of erecting a better habitation. His motive, 
 he delicately hinted, was the comfort of his parent, and 
 not a matter of convenience to himself, for he had been 
 accustomed to the rude wigwam of the children of the 
 forest. And he regretted that his indulgent parent had 
 not used a portion, if not the whole, of the money expended 
 on him at college, in the erection of a better tenement. 
 
 " Do you suppose, my son," said Mr. Cameron, " that 
 this is to be your permanent abiding-place ?" 
 
 "No, father. Yet the woods, the rocks, the streams, 
 and the skies, here, are no doubt quite as pleasant as else- 
 where, and I could soon become attached to them and feel 
 that this was my home. But it has ever seemed to me that 
 I was destined to mingle in more stirring scenes than those 
 likely to occur in this quiet valley. I have dreamed of 
 going forth to battle " 
 
 "Nature — nature, sir!" said McSwine. 
 
 "Peace, Hugh !" said Mr. Cameron. 
 
 " But when I returned, it was to some such place as this, 
 surrounded by crags and deep impenetrable forests." 
 
 "And such may be thy destiny. But, until you shall 
 have returned in safety, where is the necessity of a better 
 house ? If you did not return to inhabit it, it would be 
 tenanted by strangers." 
 
 " It would be occupied by you, sir. Oh, I assure you, I 
 feel many a bitter pang after lying long on my sleepless 
 couch, imagining I have achieved honours in battles or 
 science, to revert in thought to the mean hut which shelters 
 the head of my parent. If we are poor in purse, still 
 McSwine and myself have strong arms, and there is abund- 
 ance of material, both wood and stone." 
 
 "I might have a better house, Charles. There is gold 
 sufficient in my chest to build one. But wherefore ? I am 
 comfortable, and have my health. I could convince you 
 that my abode would be less agreeable in a better house, 
 and will do so very soon." 
 
46 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " But, sir, this hut is made the subject of contemptucaa 
 remark by the people." 
 
 *'I know it. I desired it." 
 
 *' Will you not tell me why such was your desire ?" 
 
 "Not now; but soon." 
 
 Charles then delivered the message from Mr. Schooley, 
 and repeated the request that a meeting might be had at 
 an early day. 
 
 A startling frown darkened the pale brow of his father ; 
 but it vanished when he learned the object of the Quaker's 
 pursuit was merely gold, and a smile of derision parted his 
 lips. 
 
 "Ah !" said he, "the Quakers retain but a limited por- 
 tion of the Old Testament. The command that ' thou shalt 
 have none other Gods but me' is received with certain 
 reservations, according to the monitions of the spirit. But, 
 less wise than the Indians, it may be doubted sometimes 
 whether they know the difference between the promptings 
 of the Kacha and the Malcha Manito." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" was heard in guttural sounds. 
 
 "Peace, Hugh!" said Mr. Cameron. "It is the same 
 thing throughout the earth. Many men make choice of a 
 religion for their worldly convenience rather than theii 
 eternal welfare. But this prying Quaker, and the cupidity 
 of the idle gossips of the country, would fill my poor house 
 and overrun the premises. I will see him, however, under 
 the elm at the margin of the brook, and treat with him as 
 the savages did with Penn ; only, he must offer me no gaudy 
 presents." 
 
 " I will inform him, sir. But, father, may I ask why it 
 was, when I mentioned the request of Mr. Schooley, your 
 brow contracted and your frame seemed agitated?" 
 
 " You may," said his father, after a long pause. " There 
 could be no better time than the present, perhaps, to make 
 known to you " 
 
 " Right !" exclaimed McSwine, clapping his hands. 
 
 "Peace, Hugh! Close the door and barricade it," said 
 the old man; and then, turning to his son, while Hugh 
 lighted a torch, (for no particle of the glittering sunlight 
 now penetrated the hut,) he proceeded : — " Charles, you 
 have no doubt met with many cf ycur name and country. 
 There are hundreds of them driven forth by tyranny frani 
 
SECOND SERIES. 41 
 
 their native soil and dispersed over the world. Did you 
 not learn from the books in the college library, or from 
 Dr. Witherspoon, that there was once a race of lords of 
 this clan, each of whom led to battle a thousand fol- 
 lowers ?" 
 
 " I did, sir. And the doctor referred to them in the 
 last conversation I had with him. He told me to be worthy 
 of my name." 
 
 *'A noble, a glorious name and lineage!" exclaimed 
 McSwine. 
 
 "Be silent, faithful Hugh!" said his master. "He ad- 
 vised thee well, my son." 
 
 " But, father, can it be possible that I am a lineal de- 
 scendant of the lords of the clan Cameron?" 
 
 " It is. You are the last of the line in more respects 
 than one." 
 
 " How, sir ?" cried Charles. " Was not the ' Gentle 
 Lochiel,' as his prince called him, stricken down on the 
 fatal field of Culloden, as had been predicted by the High- 
 land seer?" 
 
 " He was stricken down, but rose again ; and the seer 
 spoke falsely." 
 
 " The seer said he would die at the stake," said McSwine, 
 despondingly ; "and it may yet come to pass." 
 
 "Peace, Hugh !" said his master. 
 
 " Then he must be living still," said Charles. 
 
 " He does," said his father. "After the escape from that 
 fatal field, he entered the service of the King of France. 
 He fought against the armies of the British tyrant both in 
 Europe and America." 
 
 "America!" said Charles. "Am I — can I " 
 
 " Thou art his son. I am Lochiel !" 
 
 Charles threw his arms round his father's neck, and long 
 remained silent. 
 
 "Yes," continued his father, gently disengaging himself, 
 "I am the Gentle Lochiel, and thou art my son. But know 
 you not there is a price upon my head ? A reward of a 
 thousand guineas was ofl'ered for my arrest, and it has not 
 been revoked." 
 
 " But, father, George II. has descended to the tomb, and 
 surely the decree would not now be enforced if you were 
 apprehended." 
 
4b WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 " You know not that. Mj brother returned to Scotland, 
 many years after the battle of Culloden, for the treasure 
 of the family he had secreted. He obtained it, and it was 
 transmitted to me in Paris. But he lingered in Scotland, 
 supposing the enmity of the usurpers might be extin- 
 guished. He was arrested — executed! He and I were 
 among the proscribed, and were already condemned to 
 death. No trial was accorded him. The king had only to 
 sign the death-warrant, which was done, while he uttered 
 hollow regrets — merely enticements, hoping I, too, would 
 return to the land of my fathers. His crown sat uneasily 
 on his head while an honest chieftain asserted that he had 
 no title to it ! But enough of that. When peace was 
 made, I did not return with my regiment to Europe, be- 
 cause the Indians had stolen my son. I sought you and 
 found you. But then the last of the royal Stuarts had 
 been arrested and conveyed from Paris by the orders of 
 Louis, and I resigned my commission, (which was not ac- 
 cepted,) resolved to bestow an education on my son and die 
 in some peaceful seclusion. Now you know the reason of 
 my standing aloof from society. The thousand guineas 
 would induce many a wretch to cut short my existence. 
 You need not frown. You could not prevent it, but you 
 might avenge me." 
 
 " I will be avenged upon King George !" said Charles. 
 
 "I know thou Avouldst, my son," said the old man. "I 
 know you would contribute to sever this vast country from 
 his empire. It will be lost to him and his line forever with- 
 out our instrumentality. Such is the decree of Providence, 
 who rewards or punishes every good or evil action. But 
 more of that hereafter. Let it suffice that I have ample 
 intelligence of the great political events, and can, from my 
 obscure hut, notwithstanding the umbrage I conceived, 
 wield no mean influence at the court of Versailles. As for 
 thee, thou art already, I fear, entangled in the silken fet- 
 ters of love " 
 
 *' I, father ?" 
 
 " I think so. What think you, Hugh ?" 
 
 "Gone! noosed!" said McSwine, grimly smiling. 
 
 "And, pray, how was such information obtained?" de- 
 manded Charles, with a burning blush sufl'using his face. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Ask Solo !" said McSwine. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 4S 
 
 " Solo? Ilii ! were you in the thicket that night?" 
 
 " I was," replied the shaggy, broad-shouldered Scot. 
 
 "Beware how you dog my trail, McSwine !" said the 
 indignant youth. " If my tomahawk had been in my 
 belt, your brains might have manured the roots of the 
 brambles!" 
 
 " It was not without my permission, Charles. But the 
 lady, as I have learned " 
 
 "As you have learned, father?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. The mode of obtaining my intelligence is no 
 doubt sufficiently mysterious ; but it is ample and reliable. 
 I say I am gratified to learn the lady is altogether worthy 
 of the son of Lochiel. I shall not oppose the union, when 
 the time arrives for its consummation, should I survive to 
 see it, — for the event cannot transpire immediately. It will 
 be obstructed by others, and in the mean time I may be 
 seized and led to the block." 
 
 "Never !" said Charles. McSwine pointed significantly 
 toward the dying embers on the hearth. 
 
 "I understand you, Hugh," said the old man, smiling. 
 " Charles shall know all. Follow me, my son," he con- 
 tinued, lifting the torch, and striding toward the broad 
 fireplace, that had been apparently cut from the solid rock, 
 being a portion of the perpendicular cliff against which the 
 hut was constructed. After removing the soot on one side 
 of the rock, and introducing a strong iron bar into an ori- 
 fice hitherto concealed, the entire rear wall, in one piece, 
 began to swing forward on hidden hinges, like the ponderous 
 door of a vault. The torch was then extinguished, and 
 Charles was amazed to behold the subdued rays of the sun 
 falling across the passage revealed within. 
 
 In silence he followed his father, and the next moment 
 was standing in an elegant room, with an arched ceiling, 
 through which the rays of the sun were streaming in a 
 hundred places. The floor was strewn with rushes, and 
 in the corners were several couches covered with velvet. 
 The walls were hung with Gobelin tapestry, commemorating 
 events in the history of Scotland and France. A small 
 ebony table on one side was covered with books richly 
 bound ; and on the other, supported by a small stand, was 
 an open Bible and an Episcopal prayer-book. In the 
 centre of the room gurgled a stream of transparent water. 
 
 5 
 
60 WILD WESTERN SCENES ! 
 
 which iilled a pool hollowed in the rock, and then flowed 
 out at the side by a channel cut in the floor. In the pool 
 disported a number of speckled trout, seemingly familiar 
 with the presence of man. 
 
 " This is not the work of enchantment," said the exiled 
 chief, gazing at the surprised countenance of his son, " but 
 partly of these hands. It is never good to be idle. While 
 Hugh tilled the soil and you were at college, it was ray 
 jaily task to excavate the rock and provide a refuge. You 
 may learn from this the magnitude of results obtained by 
 incessant application, however slow the progress. If the 
 idea be conceived, unceasing application will sooner or later 
 accomplish the end. But you have not seen all." He 
 then led the way into two smaller rooms, some ten feet 
 square, and both likewise illuminated by rays of the sun 
 struggling through small fissures. In one of these rooms — 
 the centre one, for they were in a suite, after the plan of the 
 palaces in France — were arranged a great number of war- 
 like implements. In the farthest was the wardrobe and 
 the treasure, the latter secured in a strong iron-bound 
 oaken chest. The lid was lifted, and Charles beheld 
 several bags of coin. There were also costly jewels, and 
 pieces of massy plate, the presents of princes and the heir- 
 looms of the family. 
 
 "This is thy heritage," said the exile. "If it please 
 thee to build a finer house, have thy will ; but thy father 
 will still abide in his stronghold." 
 
 "No, sir!" said Charles, with firmness. "Every thing 
 shall be subject to thy will — not mine. Tiiou wert right in 
 constructing such an abode. And, if I were thee, I would 
 not see Mr. Schooley, nor satisfy the curiosity of prying 
 neighbours. Permit me, sir, to turn back all intrudeis. 
 Against me no accusation can be brought ; but some one 
 whom thou hast met in foreign lands might recognise thy 
 features." 
 
 " No, no. Hugh will watch and guard the premises. 
 He is faithful. And they may not know me. I had no 
 exuberance of beard, and my hair was dark, until thou wast 
 stolen. No, no ! there is no danger now ; and I will see 
 this Quaker under the elm. No doubt they believe I find 
 gold in the clifl", since they must have observed tlie dust 
 from my excavations swept away by the freshets. Let ua 
 
SECOND SERIES. 61 
 
 return to the humble hut. Hasten to thy friend, and sav 
 I will see him." 
 
 Charles was impatient to deliver the answer of his father, 
 but paused near the door of the hut, and carefully surveyed 
 the premises. The hut, as we have said, was built against 
 a perpendicular portion of the clifif. It was where the 
 range had been divided at right angles by one of the narrow 
 ravines that opened into the larger valley, which ran paral- 
 lel with the principal ridge. Thus the tenement was above 
 the reach of high-water, and the rooms excavated in the 
 rock received their light from the many perforations in the 
 cliff fronting on the largest stream, and were quite inacces- 
 sible to any one without. There were a few well-culti- 
 vated acres on one side of the small brook, on which were 
 a rude stable and cow-house. And in this manner the 
 recluse lived in security and independence. 
 
 Charles directed his steps toward the abode of Julia 
 with feelings very diiferent from any he had hitherto ex- 
 perienced. His hatred of the king became inextinguish- 
 ably violent, and he was glad he had resisted the artful 
 suggestions of Governor Franklin. 
 
 When he drew near the house, Paddy addressed him. 
 
 " What is it, Padd}'^?" he asked, pausing near the garden. 
 
 " Nothing matarial, Misther Charles, only we've no 
 wathermelons in Ireland, and, as I niver seed 'em grow, I 
 can't ricognise thim whin I mate them face to face. They 
 tould me they growed among the savages, and I thought 
 you might be famaliar with 'em, and would be oblaging 
 enough to say which is which." 
 
 "That is a watermelon-vine at your elbow, Paddy," said 
 Charles, laughing very heartily. 
 
 " Be my life, I thought so, though I niver saw one before." 
 
 *'But you are cultivating it in a most singular way," 
 continued Charles, much diverted on finding the imported 
 gardener had driven a long stake in the ground and 
 wrapped the vine around it. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder, Mr. Charles ; for what is right 
 in a savilized country is wrong in sich a wild place as this. 
 And it reminds me of the corn Lord Bute, whose gardener 
 my father was, tried to raise in Scotland. His lordship 
 tasted the laves of the bush, and they cut his tongue. He 
 had thim biled, like granes, and tasted thim sasoned, but 
 
62 WILD WESTERN SCENES 
 
 threw thim to the pigs. "Well, Mr. Charles, the great phi- 
 losopher, Franklin, the nathural father of the prisent 
 governor of this colony, was there, looking on, laughing 
 and wliaspering something to her ledjship. At last he 
 hinted that the ear ought to be hiled and aten, as it was 
 done in America. 'Och,' said his lordship, 'is that the 
 way? I thought the grane was the sade, and not to be aten, 
 but planted.' " 
 
 "Paddy," said Charles, "when the Indians get you, if 
 you tell them that tale it may save your scalp." 
 
 " I wouldn't spind my breath on such blackguards," was 
 Paddy's reply, as he proceeded to detach the vines from 
 the poles, and muttering something about the " falthiness" 
 of permitting fruit to grow on the ground- 
 Mr. Schooley and Mr. Green did not delay when informed 
 that Mr. Cameron would receive them. They mounted 
 their horses and trotted briskly av,'ay. And, while Mrs. 
 Schooley's foot was in rapid motion at the little wheel, 
 furnishing the threads for the loom, Julia and Charles 
 wandered away toward the grove near the end of the lane. 
 
 On one side of the lane, Richard and the negroes were 
 at work planting the late corn. 
 
 "I suppose, Julia," said Richard, his hoe suspended in 
 the air, as the couple passed slowly along, " thou hast 
 been telling thy friend about our claim to the land. Thou 
 mayest promise, if there be much gold in the cliff, that a 
 share of it shall remain for his father." 
 
 " Oh, pray don't be too liberal, friend Richard," said 
 Charles. " My father don't value gold as much as you do 
 the common dust ; and as for me, no doubt Julia will speak 
 kindly in my behalf." 
 
 "Do so, Julia," said Richard; "and whatever thou dost 
 promise Avill be approved by me." 
 
 The amused couple pursued their way, and never paused 
 nntil they reached the great sycamore on the margin of a 
 trout-brook at the eastern extremity of the farm. Here 
 they sat upon a moss-covered stone partly buried in the 
 soil, placed there, perhaps, by human hands, to mark the 
 spot of a battle between hostile tribes of the forest. 
 Animals, arrows, and birds, were cut on one side of its 
 surface. On the other, and almost illegible, were rude 
 figures of men wielding the tomahawk and scalping-knife, 
 
SECOND SERIES. 5.' 
 
 besides many nondescript marks and characters. Charles 
 read the meaninif, and not only understood the number of 
 warriors that had been engaged, but the name of the tribo 
 which had conquered. lie could not tell when the con- 
 flict had taken place, but it was evidently at a remote 
 period. 
 
 "Ha!" he exclaimed, upon lifting his eyes and behold- 
 ing recently-made figures on the smooth bark of the syca- 
 more, " a Seneca chief has been here within the last 
 twenty- four hours !" 
 
 "And with an evil intent, think you?" asked Julia, 
 with emotion, observing the excited gaze of the young 
 man. 
 
 " I fear so, Julia," said he. " He threatens us. Do 
 you not see the serpent winding round the eagle, and the 
 arrow piercing the antelope?" 
 
 " And they call you the White Eagle and I the Ante- 
 lope ! Why should they threaten us?" 
 
 " They would have me with them again. And they sup- 
 pose the Antelope withholds me from returning to the 
 Brown Thrush, the sister of Thayendanegea.' 
 
 "And perhaps she loves you!" 
 
 "She called me brother." 
 
 " But I have learned that the white captives often marry 
 their brown sisters." 
 
 " True. But I will never do so." 
 
 "But does she not love thee?" 
 
 " She does. But what then ?" 
 
 "Fly to her!" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Because, Julia, I love only thee, and will remain." 
 
 " You never said so before," replied the girl, after a long 
 pause. 
 
 " But I have long felt it, and you could not have been 
 wholly ignorant of it. Even Shawuskukhkung, who came 
 hither with me, and is now on the lakes, pleading with his 
 kindred to remain at peace, observed it. Mr. Livingston 
 suspected it; and now I avow it. Oh, do not drive me 
 back to the wild forest ! I never regarded the Brown 
 Thrush otherwise than as a dear sister. Do not drive me 
 away. I am not the outcast they suppose. My father is 
 
64 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 of gentle blood. Only permit me to love thee, and let t} f 
 friendship continue, and that is all I will require, until a 
 proper time arrives for me to claim your hand in the face 
 of the world." 
 
 " Charles, you know I have ever esteemed you ; but I 
 cannot promise." 
 
 " Not promise to continue your friendship ? to ramble 
 with me as usual over the hills and through the valleys? 
 —to " 
 
 " Oh, I think I may promise that — but- 
 
 " That is all I ask at this time. I know that, until you 
 arrive at a certain age, your guardian has power over you. 
 This both himself and Mrs. Schooley have repeatedly as- 
 sured me." 
 
 " He possesses the power of withholding my fortune until 
 I arrive at a certain age, if I marry without his consent. 
 That is all. But I promised my father to be guided by 
 his advice until I had attained my majority, and, you 
 know, long years must elapse before the fulfilment of that 
 period." 
 
 " True. But the time will come. I asked nothing but 
 a continuance of your friendly regard until a proper moment 
 arrived for me to apply to your guardian. There was one 
 other thing, however: — that you would make no pledge, 
 under any circumstances, to Richard." 
 
 " To Richard ! Do you know the Quakers must marry 
 within the society?" 
 
 "I know it; and I know also there are many ways of 
 whipping the devil round the stump." 
 
 " They would not attempt to whip me; but surely you 
 could not mean such a thing." 
 
 " No, certainly not ; the allusion was to the Malcha 
 Manito, which may sometimes be mistaken for the Good 
 Spirit in one's breast ; and, according to the Quaker doc- 
 trine, its monitions might be the highest decrees — higher 
 than any human laws. But you do not promise!" 
 
 " I do, Charles ! And let it be a solemn compact !'' 
 
 " Solemnly between us !" said Charles, pressing her 
 hand against his heart. " For, Julia, the time may come 
 when we must be separated, — when I may be a captive, or 
 an outlaw with a price upon my head ; for I Avill never 
 draw sword or wield tomahawk in behalf of King George. 
 
"/. 
 
 . 'if//./^l»tf(^ 
 
 CUARLE8 AND JULIA SURPRISKD BY MOODY.— P. I* 
 
SECOND SERIES. 55 
 
 Mr. Livingston, Mr. Stockton, Doctor Witherspoon, and 
 niOst of the leading characters, will resist the tyranny of 
 the king. And my father says that when a rebellion is 
 headed by the great personages of a country, after due 
 deliberation and formal confederation, the people must 
 win their freedom." 
 
 '"The devil he does!" said a broad-chested, red-haired 
 man, of vigorous step and scowling features, who came 
 from the opposite side of the huge sycamore and con- 
 fronted the unsuspecting pair. ^ 
 
 "Who are youV" demanded Charles, leaping up and 
 grasping his tomahawk, which he had carried in his belt 
 after hearing the history of his father. 
 
 " I am a loyal subject of King George III., and you are 
 a rebel !" 
 
 "And you have been eavesdropping? But you shall 
 not repeat what you have heard !" And the youth hurled 
 his tomahawk at the head of the intruder. Julia uttered 
 a scream at the moment, and strove to defeat his aim. 
 She was successful. The instrument penetrated the tree 
 several inches above the mark, and remained firmly fixed 
 in the wood. 
 
 "Now is my time!" said the stranger, pale and quiver- 
 ing ; for the assault had evidently not been anticipated, and 
 he had made but a hairbreadth escape." 
 
 "Nay! do not fire!" exclaimed Julia, throwing her 
 slight form between his rifle and her lover. " I saved thy 
 life," she continued, "and you shall not take his without 
 first killing me!" 
 
 "I believe you would die to save him," said the stranger, 
 lowering his gun. " But you must teach him better man- 
 ners than to throw his tomahawk at every one he meets, 
 and before he learns Avhether they are his friends or hi3 
 foes." 
 
 " Sir, you could not be the first," said Charles; " and I 
 defy thee still, although unarmed." 
 
 "Merely because I happened to hear the words you 
 were speaking to this maiden ? Know, sir, that the tree ia 
 hollow, the entrance being on the opposite side. I was in 
 it before you came hither." 
 
 "And what were you doing there?" 
 
 " I will tell you, seeing you have no secrets from me 
 
C6 WILD WESTERN SCENES' 
 
 Kiiow, then, that 1, too, can read the picture-writing as 
 well as yourself — nay, better, for I understood by the 
 figures that the Seneca chief Avould return in a few hours. 
 I fell asleep awaiting him, and was awakened by you. I 
 know you both, and will not retain the advantage. I am 
 Bonnel Moody, at your service, and bear a commission in 
 the service of the king. And I am now on duty, being 
 sent hither by one of the royal governors to ascertain the 
 sentiments of the people." 
 
 "And you have learn^ the sentiments of one of them," 
 said Charles, smiling. 
 
 *' But sentiments change, like the seasons ; and, when 
 you hear what I have been charged to speak to Mr. 
 Schooley, perhaps your opinions may be modified. My 
 mission is to spread information as well as to obtain it ; to 
 conciliate, rather than to incense. Hence, I trust there 
 will be no further strife between us." 
 
 " I thank you for those words, Mr. Moody," said 
 Julia. 
 
 "And fear not that I will repeat the speeches I have 
 heard, unless forced to do so in the discharge of my duty," 
 continued the intruder, with a slight smile. 
 
 " I warn you, sir !" said Charles. " Utter but one word 
 you have heard, and we are deadly enemies forever. Let 
 us return, Julia. You still tremble." 
 
 Charles had not gone many paces before he was over- 
 taken by Moody. 
 
 "Take your tomahawk, sir," said Moody, placing the 
 glittering hatchet in the hand of the youth. " You have 
 a strong arm, sir. I could hardly loosen it. And, as the 
 maiden may not always be present when we meet, I hope 
 it will never be aimed at the same target again. Let U3 
 be friends." 
 
 " It cannot be. Avoid my path, and I will not seek 
 yours." 
 
 " It must be as you decide," said Moody, gravely. " But 
 I may keep your company until we arrive at the house, 
 since I have important messages for Mr. Schooley." 
 
 "He is not at home, sir," said Julia. "He and Mr. 
 Green have visited Mr. Cameron, Charles's father." 
 
 " The old man of the gold-mine ? Then I will join 
 them there; and I know a nearer way than through the 
 
S3CUND sf:iiii:s, 5*i 
 
 lane. A fair morning to you both," he continued, bowing 
 very low, and striding through the wood ii'. a divergent 
 direction. 
 
 "And be careful that you do not again play the eaves- 
 dropper," said Charles; "for Hugh McSwine has a sharp 
 tusk." 
 
 " Do not irritate him, Charles !" said Julia, clinging 
 with increased tenacity to his arm. 
 
 "Julia," said Charles, in a sad tone, "that man is the 
 only witness to our vows." 
 
 " No, Charles. One in heaven heard them ! They say 
 such vows are registered in heaven, and there is no reason 
 to doubt it. And if it be so, it must be a grievous thing to 
 break them ! I hope you made no similar pledges to the 
 sister of the Mohawk chief." 
 
 " Indeed, no, Julia. And she will acquit me of it; but 
 she knows not of my regard for you. She is meek and 
 forgiving, and seldom swayed by passion ; but her bro- 
 ther is sometimes fierce and furious. He loves me, but 
 would kill me rather than lose me ; but we must be 
 separated." 
 
 "And will he not kill you?" 
 
 " Not if I can help it. But he is patient, too, at times, 
 and prudent and wise, as well as affectionate. He is only 
 terrible when in one of his ungovernable spasms. He still 
 hopes I will return and marry his sister; and I do not 
 think he would listen to the words of this Moody, if he 
 were to repeat Avhat he heard at the sycamore." In this 
 manner they conversed until they were joined by Richard, 
 who, having faithfully done a half-day's work, was repair- 
 ing to the house for his dinner. 
 
58 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IHE SENECA INDIAN — ATTEMPT TO ARREST THE REFUGEE — 
 RIVAL LOVERS — BLUE PIGEON'S MESSAGE. 
 
 Charles accepted Richard's invitation to dine with him. 
 Rose brought in the smoking fowls and other viands, and 
 they fared sumptuously. 
 
 Before the dinner was over, and when even Mrs. Schooley 
 herself was smiling at the idea of the Irish gardener plant- 
 ing poles for the watermelon-vines to run on, (an account 
 of which Charles was entertaining the family with,) Paddy 
 himself made his appearance in a most unlooked-for man- 
 ner. He sprang into the room and overturned the table, 
 over which he fell, sprawling to the floor. Before any one 
 had time to demand an explanation, he bawled out, " In- 
 dians ! the savage Indians !" 
 
 'Where?" asked Richard, jumping up, and manifesting 
 some alarm. 
 
 "Be calm, Richard. Thee need not fear," said Mrs. 
 Schooley. " Thou knowest the chiefs have often been the 
 guests of thy father in Burlington, and thee need not fear 
 them here." 
 
 " How many did you see?" asked Charles. 
 
 " I don't know how many, Misther Charles," said Paddy. 
 " But one of the blackguards was laning over the palings 
 close be my head when I was sticking the marrow-fat pays. 
 He was as close to me as I am to you at this moment." 
 
 *' Then it could not have been his purpose to kill you," 
 said Julia, "or he might have done it easily." 
 
 " Och, and I should niver have been the wiser ! What 
 a country to live in ! Nothing but rattlesnakes and black- 
 guard Indians !" 
 
 " Thee must not term them so, Patrick," said Mrs. 
 Schooley ; " for, if they should hear thee, they might do 
 thee some mischief." 
 
 " I will call them gintlemen if they'll only let me sculp 
 
SECOND SERIES. 59 
 
 alone. I hope they did not hear me. I'm sure I beg 
 theiv pardon if they did." 
 
 Charles stepped to the door and uttered a friendly call 
 in the Seneca language ; and the solitary Indian, who had 
 so much alarmed the gardener, approached from the position 
 he had occupied when Paddy beheld him, and from which 
 he had not moved. lie entered the house, shaking hands 
 with all the inmates, and uttering the usual " llow do?" 
 Padd) hesitated and squirmed a great deal, but yielded 
 when told by Charles that if he refused to extend his hand 
 it might be considered as a token of hostility. 
 
 The Indian wore upon his garments a great many bears'- 
 claws and porcupine-quills ; and behind, hanging from his 
 feathered head-dress, was the skin of a large rattlesnake, 
 reaching nearly to his heels. The rattles were still on 
 the lower end of it, and at every motion of his body 
 they gave forth the startling sound so terrifically familiar 
 to the ears of the first settlers of every portion of our 
 country. 
 
 The Indian was invited to eat as soon as Rose could re- 
 adjust the table. When he had finished eating, Mrs. 
 Schooley lighted his pipe, and Charles smoked with him. 
 
 " My Seneca brother," said Charles, in the Indian lan- 
 guage, " has threatened the White Eagle. It was done in 
 sport, was it not?" 
 
 " The Rattlesnake listened to the voice of the great chief, 
 Captain Pipe, and did his bidding. The Rattlesnake does 
 not aim his fangs at the White Eagle." 
 
 " The White Eagle is glad to hear it, and he smokes the 
 pipe of peace with his brother. But he would have th(> 
 Seneca chief listen to his voice also. He would have hiro 
 say to the great Captain Pipe that he fears him not, nor 
 any other captain who threatens at a distance ; but, that 
 if the Antelope should be molested, the White Eagle would 
 soar to the top of the highest mountain, whence he could 
 see his farthest enemy; and the bird of the fleetest wing 
 Tvould soon alight upon him." 
 
 The Seneca promised to deliver the message, and at the 
 same time declared that Thayendanegea was entirely igno- 
 '■ant of what had been done to offend his brother. 
 
 Charles learned from this Indian, who was but a minor 
 chief, that the colonists had taken the fort at Ticonderoga, 
 
60 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 and that preparations for war were being made everywhere 
 m the North. 
 
 The Seneca soon after set out in quest of Moody, for 
 whom he had certain messages. 
 
 Meantime the interview with the mysterious occupant of 
 the humble hut took place under the elm on the margin of 
 the stream that swept along the base of the cliff. Mr. 
 Cameron did not apologize for not offering to entertain his 
 visitors within the house, but proceeded to business without 
 delay. And when he exhibited his title, (it was for five 
 thousand acres, to the utter astonishment of Mr. Schooley,) 
 derived from the heirs of Edward Byllinge, one of the origi- 
 nal purchasers from Lord Berkeley, who had his title from 
 the Duke of York, and produced a plot made by John Rock- 
 hill, a noted surveyor still living, neither Mr. Green nor 
 the Quaker had a word to say against the correctness of 
 his lines or the validity of his title. 
 
 "And now, gentlemen," said the exile, "I believe our 
 business is at an end, and we must part as strangers. If 
 this examination into my title had not been made a pretext 
 for inspecting my premises, I might have desired a more 
 social intercourse with my neighbours. I know it is believed 
 that gold exists in these rocks ; but such can only be the 
 supposition of the ignorant ; for any one at all acquainted 
 with chemistry would know that the substances found in 
 this region resembling the precious metals can be nothing 
 more than worthless iron pyrites." 
 
 When he ceased speaking. Moody, who, as usual, had 
 been a concealed auditor, came forward and placed sealed 
 packets in the hands of Mr. Schooley, whom he knew by 
 his Quaker hat and coat. He then Avandered carelessly 
 aside, while Mr. Schooley broke open the seals. They 
 contained letters both from New York and Burlington. 
 Moody had just arrived from the former place, and the 
 Indian (who now made his appearance, "how-doing" and 
 shaking hands) from the latter. From Governor Franklin 
 he brought a commission, creating Thomas Schooley a jus- 
 tice of the peace. 
 
 The Indian, true to his instinct, followed Moody's trail, 
 and entered the small ravine which opened into the valley 
 where the interview had been held. 
 
 "No, mon 1 I tell ye no ! Gae bock, or I'll dirk you '' 
 
SECOND SERIES. 61 
 
 Such were the words spoken a moment after, in a loud 
 voice, bj' Hugh IMcSwine. And when all eyes were turned 
 in the direction of the hut, Moody and the Indian were 
 seen retreating, driven back by Hugh. 
 
 " If you scratch us with your Scotch dirk, I'll send a 
 ball through you!" said Moody, half presenting his rifle. 
 
 The Indian uttered one of his warwhoops and brandished 
 his tomahawk. Mr. Schooley and Mr. Green became much 
 excited. The first, by virtue of the commission he had re- 
 ceived, besought and even commanded the white man to 
 keep the peace; while the latter, who knew something of 
 the Seneca language, warned the Indian against shedding 
 blood. The white-haired exile lifted a small horn to his 
 lips and sounded a shrill blast, which was answered by an- 
 other from the hut of a Mr. McArthur, living near the sum- 
 mit of the range of hills. The faint echoes of several 
 other blasts were then discernable in the distance, but did 
 not seem to be comprehended by Moody, who was still 
 intent upon the execution of his purpose, 
 
 "I call upon you, Mr. Schooley," said he, "by virtue of 
 your commission, to arrest these men in the name of the 
 king. Here is a paper given me several months ago by Sir 
 John Johnson, in which is described a certain fugitive from 
 justice, and for whose arrest and delivery into the custody 
 of any of his Majesty's officers a reward of one thousand 
 guineas has been offered." 
 
 "Dost thou suppose this Hugh the one?" asked Mr. 
 Schooley. 
 
 " No ; but the pale Scotchman, if his hair were not so 
 white, would answer the description," said Moody, lifting 
 the paper before Mr. S.'s face. 
 
 "Art thou the man?" asked Mr. Schooley, turning to 
 Mr. Cameron. 
 
 "A\hat man?" was the reply. 
 
 " The Highland laird who fled with the Pretender," said 
 Moody. 
 
 But the exile made no reply, while Hugh gazed steadily 
 np the ravine. 
 
 " I see," continued Mr. Schooley, having adjusted his 
 spectacles, and holding the document before his eyes with 
 both hands, " I see that John Johnson, known as Sir John, 
 iiath been charged by his Majesty's ministers to seek a 
 
 6 
 
62 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 certain fugitive, supposed to have taken refuge in the hilla 
 of New Jersey, whose description followeth, &c. Truly, 
 iny friend," he continued, turning to the exile, "thou dost 
 answer the description in every thing but the colour of thy 
 hair. The name, too, is the same ; for every one knows 
 that the rebel Lochiel was the chieftain of the Camerons. 
 And this paper further sayeth that there is quite a number 
 of Scotchmen hidden in these parts, and they are supposed 
 to possess several very valuable jewels rightfully belonging 
 to the crown of Great Britain, but which were seized and 
 carried away by the second James Stuart in his flight from 
 the kingdom. One of said diamonds is valued at five thou- 
 sand pounds. Bless my life ! What canst thou say to all 
 this?" 
 
 "Not one word will I say to you," replied the chief. 
 " If it must be answered, let it be before a proper tri- 
 bunal." 
 
 " Proper tribunal ! Thee forgets I am one of the king's 
 justices of the peace." 
 
 " I do not recognise the king's authority. What say you, 
 my friends?" 
 
 "Down with the Usurper!" was the cry of some half- 
 dozen voices; and the next instant a number of the brawny 
 sons of Scotland, armed with dirks and rifles, emerged 
 from the bushes and stood in a line before the amazed 
 magistrate. 
 
 " What men are these?" demanded Thomas. 
 
 " They are the Scotchmen alluded to in this paper," 
 said Moody; "and they are too strong for us," he added, 
 in a whisper. 
 
 " They are the Sons of Liberty," said Mr. Cameron. 
 
 "Sons of Liberty!" said Mr. Schooley, in astonish- 
 ment. " William Franklin urges me, as a loyal subject, 
 to prevent the organization of such a body in this section, 
 and says it is believed a secret association, calling them- 
 selves by that name, are pushing their ramifications into 
 every township." 
 
 " My friend," said Cameron, with a smile, "your labour 
 will be fruitless if it is the design to suppress the Sons rf 
 Liberty. As for you, sir," he continued, addressing 
 Moody, " go back to the miserable cave which is the 
 repository of the plunder taken by thee in the name ol the 
 
SECOND SERIES. 68 
 
 usurper styled King. If thou wouldst lose thy life in his 
 service, die like a man in the heat of battle, or else bury 
 thyself in the murky shades of the swamp, so that thy 
 name may never more be mentioned. And thou, so-x of 
 the forest," he continued, turning to the Indian, "fly far 
 beyond the trail of the white man. Hunt the deer, the 
 moose, and the buffalo, in the primeval forests, or on the 
 interminable plains, beyond the reach of civilization. 
 Avoid alike the faces of the English and the Americans. 
 No matter which side you may choos*:-, — no matter which 
 party may be victorious, — a union with either will be thy 
 destruction. Render that into his own language," added 
 he, speaking to his son Charles, who had silently joined 
 the party, and was now standing beside his father. 
 
 The chief listened attentively — as Indians ever do — to 
 the speech intended for the ears of his race. When it was 
 finished, he merely replied that all the lands and rivers had 
 been given to the red man by the Great Spirit, and he 
 would be unworthy the gift if he fled before the invaders 
 from beyond the broad water. 
 
 During this scene Mr. Green remained silent, but did 
 not seem surprised. He had much land, and was not dis- 
 posed to place it in jeopardy by hastily taking sides with 
 either party. Charles was indignant, and so greatly ex- 
 cited, it was with difficulty his parent could restrain him 
 from making a desperate assault on Moody. 
 
 Of course the statue-like Sons of Liberty, who had 
 descended from the hills, and now stood in imperturbable 
 composure, each grasping his gun, put to flight for the 
 time the purpose of making the arrest in the king's name. 
 Moody slowly withdrew, in company with Mr. Schooley; 
 Mr. Green and the Indian followed, while the exiled chief 
 motioned his small band of Highlanders to return to their 
 homes. He then entered his hut, and laid before Charles 
 some papers he had just received from New Brunswick by 
 the hands of one of Hugh's runners, — a red-haired boy, of 
 an idiotic appearance, but of reliable shrewdness, called 
 Skippie. 
 
 By these documents Charles learned that he had been 
 appointed captain of a company of minute-men, to be 
 raised in his county. The Convention had likewise im- 
 posed a tax of .£10,000, to be paid to agents named by the 
 
64 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 committees ; and until such appointments were made tLe 
 captains were authorized to act, and were to correspond 
 Vr'ith the standing committee of patriots : — James Kinsej, 
 John Wetherill, John Stevens, Richard Stockton, &c. 
 
 Governor Franklin was declared a public enemy by Con- 
 gress, and his seizure ordered — by the advice, it was said, 
 of his own father. And malignant persons asserted that 
 the wise philosopher and his son made a politic choice of 
 different sides, so that the one who chanced to be of the 
 victorious party might snve the other. 
 
 The Continental Congress decreed that if the Quakers 
 could not conscientiously take the oath prescribed by 
 them, they might subscribe a declaration as follows : — "i" 
 agree to the above association as far as the same is con- 
 sistent with my religious jjrinciples.'' As many believed 
 it a Christian duty to be true to the king, they found no 
 difficulty in signing when hard pressed. Such was the 
 case in many localities where the whigs were the most 
 numerous. But those who refused were to be disarmed, to 
 give security for their peaceable conduct, and to " pay the 
 expenses attending thereon." And the captains in the 
 township, or the county committees, were to attend to the 
 matter without delay, and were empowered to arrest and 
 imprison dangerous persons at discretion ; and all who 
 would not muster when required, armed as the law directed, 
 were to pay ten shillings for each offence, recoverable by a 
 distress warrant. 
 
 "Now you are invested with quite as much authority," 
 said the elder Cameron, smiling, " as the Quaker guardian 
 of Julia Lane." 
 
 " It seems so, sir," said Charles ; " but I shall be embar- 
 rassed in the exercise of it." 
 
 " You will accept the appointment, then?" 
 
 " Certainly, if you advise it, since Mr. Livingston ac- 
 cepts the appointment bestowed on him." 
 
 " You have my permission. And I would advise you to 
 enroll your company Avith as little delay as possible, and 
 lodge this Moody in the new jail at Newton, — else he will 
 attempt to capture your father, not from motives of duty, 
 but for the sake of the reward." 
 
 "True, sir I" cried Charles, starting up. "It must not 
 be delayed. As I came from Mr. Schooley's, I crossed a 
 
SECOND SERIES. 65 
 
 trail in the tvoocIs, which arrested my attention. A dozen 
 men had passed since morning, and thoy were evidently 
 seeking to conceal their presence. It was not a mile dis 
 tant, and they must be lurking in this vicinity." 
 
 "Were they Indians?'* asked his father, in some 
 concern. 
 
 " No, sir. I marked their footprints. They may have 
 been guided by one, however. It is the tory gang of thia 
 Moody. I must be up and doing, sir, for we cannot tell 
 what moment they will fall upon us." 
 
 " Stay," said his father. " You must remain till morn- 
 ing. It is now growing dark. You know we are impreg- 
 nable in our defences. To-morrow, when the sun again 
 illuminates the paths, you may seek these robbers. Hugh, 
 barricade the door ; but first admit the bloodhound. He 
 seems to snuff the foe," he continued, Vvhen the whining 
 animal was called in and the lighted torch revealed his 
 gleaming eyes as he crouched beside the door. 
 
 " They will attack us to-night !" said Charles. 
 
 " They would depart in peace, if I would only accom- 
 pany them," said his father. 
 
 " Rather let every one of them perish ! What say you, 
 Hugh?" exclaimed Charles. 
 
 "Kill!" was Hugh's reply. 
 
 Charles was permitted by his father to prize the ponder- 
 ous stone door slightly open, so that they might readily 
 escape in the event of a sudden emergency. 
 
 Hugh prepared the supper, Avhich was heartily eaten, as 
 if the presence of danger could produce no diminution of 
 appetite. 
 
 Time wore on until the usual hour for rest, and still the 
 apprehended assault had not been made. 
 
 "They must have abandoned the project," said Charles, 
 breaking the silence which had prevailed for some moments. 
 
 "Perhaps not," said his father, rousing from one of the 
 prolonged reveries to which he was addicted, and taking 
 up one of the jewelled pistols that lay on the table, which 
 had been presented him by the unfortunate Charles Edward. 
 "But no matter," he continued; "there will be strife suffi- 
 cient before this contest is ended. And the usurper will 
 lose. Uhiike the civil wars suppressed by tyrants, we 
 here see the instigators of the revolution assuming the posta 
 
6(i WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 of danger. When cowards urge their instruments to rise, 
 keeping themselves beyond the reach of injury, their enter- 
 prises fail. It Avas thus with many of the Jacobites. They 
 not only kept aloof themselves, but would not consent for 
 the king to take the field in person. His son could not 
 sustain his standard. But it is different here. Every man 
 of note who sanctions the movement throws his head into 
 the scale. The usurper's empire will be ruptured. Ame- 
 rica will be lost. And the last of the royal line of Stuarts, 
 degenerate as he is, will have the melancholy satisfaction 
 of witnessing it." 
 
 The bloodhound bayed twice, and sprang against the 
 door, which he gnawed with his teeth. 
 
 "I thought so!" said the exile; "and it is quite likely 
 the leader of the party has been listening to my words." 
 
 "It is certain!" said Moody, without. "We have heard 
 enough. I have with me some fourteen men, and resistance 
 will be in vain. In the king's name, I bid you open the door." 
 
 " The devil's name would be quite as potential here as 
 the king's," said Charles ; " but neither will avail." 
 
 "We will see," replied Moody; and the next moment 
 a dull, heavy blow sounded on the door, and nearly pros- 
 trated it. They had lifted up a heavy log and projected 
 it forward like a battering-ram. 
 
 "Awa' with you! awa' with you, mon !" said Hugh, 
 "or " 
 
 " Or what ?" demanded Moody. " We are armed, and 
 quite ready to meet you in that way. But we do not wish 
 to take the life of the prisoner, if Ave can avoid it." 
 
 "No," said the aged exile; "there might be some diffi- 
 culty in proving my identity and in obtaining the reward." 
 
 " If you have money," said Moody, restraining his men 
 during the parley, "Ave Avill listen to terms. Have you no 
 disposition to offer a ransom ?" 
 
 "None Avhatever !" said Charles, and then fired his rifle 
 through the door. The log, held in readiness for the re» 
 newal of the assault, Avas heard to fall, and doubtless one 
 of the assailants had been wounded. 
 
 A moment after, ten or tAvelve shots were fired by the 
 party Avithout, and the door was riddled Avith their bullets; 
 but no injury was sustained by those within, who had anti- 
 cipated such an occurrence. 
 
SECOND SEBIKS. 67 
 
 "Father," said Charles, "as they have a great supe- 
 riority of numbers, Avould it not be well to summon our 
 friends from the hills ?" 
 
 "It would be well, but it is not practicable. However,' 
 continued the old man, " these assailants will not be able 
 to injure us." 
 
 "You are mistaken!" cried Moody, ever listening. 
 
 " Then do your worst ! we defy you !" said the elder 
 Cameron. 
 
 " What will they do ?" asked Charles, to whom it was 
 apparent they were not resorting again to the heavy timber 
 with which to force the door. 
 
 " They will try to burn us out," said his father, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 "They may destroy the hut," said Charles, "but not 
 injure us." 
 
 " They can do no more than burn the outside shell," said 
 his father, smiling. "Do you not observe how heavily and 
 completely the interior is plastered ? The cement is thir- 
 teen inches in thickness. The logs outside will burn and 
 fall to the ground • but the house itself will remain, to 
 astonish them, and to furnish stories for the superstitious. 
 Come; let us retreat into the rock- I hear the crackling 
 flames already, and the light will bring down my little 
 clan on their rear. Come. Hu^h. un]<2ss you would be 
 roasted like a wild boar." 
 
 " Let me stay, sir, until I feel too wiJ-rtxi," was McSwine's 
 reply; and the father and son retired into the excavated 
 rock. 
 
 Very soon the cliffs of the valley, the crests of the hills, 
 and the tops of the distant woods, were tin^pd with the 
 crimson glare of the burning house. The woi^es ceased 
 their howling, and the owl, stricken blind, flapped down to 
 the earth in mid career. 
 
 " Open the door, before it's too late!" cried MeoA^. 
 
 "Hoot, mon, what're you impatient about?" wa* the 
 response of McSwine. 
 
 "Where are the others? Why don't they speak?" 
 
 "Gone, mon, where you canna' hear 'em." 
 
 "Arc they smothered? suffocated?" 
 
 "It's nane o' your business." 
 
 " You seem to take it very coolly." 
 
68 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 *'• Yes, I am smoking in the chimney-corner." 
 
 " Smoking, are you? I guess you'll soon be burning." 
 
 " I'm smoking my pipe, mon, and you're ower impudent 
 to be disturbing ane." 
 
 This was true. McSwine enjoyed his pipe when the roof 
 was in a blaze and the consuming logs were falling from 
 the sides of the hut. Yet it was rather warm within to be 
 comfortable; but the surly Scot determined to bear it. 
 lie posted himself in the fireplace for the benefit of the 
 draught ; but the current of heated air forced him at last to 
 step through the aperture and join his master. He did not 
 remain long, however, before the heat diminished in inten- 
 sity as the burning logs fell away, and he was able to 
 breathe again in the hut, which he re-entered, closing the 
 stone door behind him. 
 
 " The old boy must be roasted too, by tliis time," said 
 Moody. 
 
 "The de'il you say!" responded McSwine. 
 
 " He is the devil, I believe !" cried one of the gang. 
 
 "Knock a hole through the infernal lime," said Moody, 
 "and let us see him." 
 
 This was not an easy matter. Failing to accomplish it, 
 they once more resolved to assail the door, which had es- 
 caped the flames by being deeply sunk in the wall. But, 
 before the first blow was aimed, McSwine sent another bul- 
 let through, and the timber was again heard to fall. 
 
 "He's broken my arm!" cried one of the men, "and 
 I'll have nothing more to do with 'em." 
 
 Shortly aftex', several shots were fired on the right, 
 and then could be heard the tramp of running men. 
 Another minute, and all was quiet. The Highlanders, 
 aroused by the light, had come to the rescue of their loved 
 chieftain, and at the first discharge Moody and his robbers 
 made a precipitate retreat. 
 
 In the morning Charles was eager for an immediate 
 pursuit. But the aged chief forbade it. Before attempt- 
 ing to punish Moody, it would be prudent first to ascertaio 
 precisely the sentiments of the people : — whether, indeed, 
 the Federal Congress or King George on such a question 
 would have the greatest number of adherents. 
 
 Yielding to the counsels of his parent, Charles strove to 
 suppress the deadly rage he felt, but harboured a settletJ 
 
SECOND SERIES. 69 
 
 determination to punish the knavish miscreant on sovio 
 future occasion. lie then aided in rebuilding tlie hut. 
 Like a block of granite, the lime and cement, though 
 bUtckened, and in many places cracked and scaled, still 
 remained standing, and the redoubtable Hugh said it would 
 bear another siege of fire. It was thoroughly repaired, 
 however, with all possible expedition. 
 
 During the day, and as the news of the assault spread 
 over the country, it was gratifying to Charles to receive 
 tenders of assistance from many persons hitherto total 
 strangers to him; and it soon became apparent that Moody 
 had but few sympathizers and abettors in the neighbour- 
 hood. On the contrary, although Lochiel's identity was 
 no longer doubted or denied, no one stepped forward to 
 arrest him, tempted by the munificent reward. Tiiis was 
 a cheering sign, and Charles lost no time in communicating 
 to the people the substance of the documents he had re- 
 ceived from the Colonial Convention. Although at first 
 many remained unmoved, preferring not to commit them- 
 selves at that early stage of the rupture, yet it was appa- 
 rent that in any test of authority between the king and 
 the Congress the latter would have the preponderance. 
 
 Emboldened by such indications, Charles commenced 
 canvassing for volunteers, and before the eve of the third 
 day he had the names of forty "minute-men" enrolled on 
 his list. Ilis sergeant was a herculean Irishman, by the 
 name of Timothy Murphy, — a well-digger up the county, 
 whose life had been saved by Charles when in the hands 
 of the Indians. 
 
 One day, leaving Tim in charge of the recruiting service, 
 the head-quarters and rallying-point being in the vicinity 
 of his father's hut, where a temporary encampment had 
 been built both for the shelter of men and horses, Charles 
 set out in the direction of Mr. Schooley's plantation. 
 
 Charles was surprised, when approaching the smithy of 
 Van Wiggcns, now in full blast, to find a sign hung out in 
 front of the dwelling with a huge bear roughly painted 
 on it. 
 
 "What does that mean, Will?" asked Charles. 
 
 "My Joan's doings," said Van Wiggens, Aviping the 
 perspiration from his fat cheeks with his leather apron, 
 blackened with the dust of the shop. " You see, dese crosS' 
 
70 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 roadij are dravelled more and more, and te people keep 
 stopping at our house and living on us. So Joan has set 
 up a davern, and /painted te Black Bear sign." 
 
 " I hope the entertainment won't be as rough as the 
 sign. Will." 
 
 " Dat's uncertain, and tepends on te sort of guests dat 
 come. She's a fine laty, cajitain," he continued, in a whis- 
 per, "but she's a Tartar ! As soon as she was mistress of 
 her own house, she began to scold me about every ding. 
 And ten she flung her shoe at me te oder day for telling 
 some dravellers our ages." 
 
 " She did ? That's strange. Your ages ?' 
 
 "Yaw. I'm dirty, and she's dirty-two." 
 
 "Women don't like to have their ages told, Will, if they 
 are older than their husbands. But thirty-two is nothing 
 to be frightened at. I suppose you gave her a taste of 
 your authority, as the Indians do their scolding squaws." 
 
 " No, captain ; dey always said Vill Wan Viggens and 
 his dog" (a small brown animal of mongrel breed, crossed 
 principally with the cur) " didn't fear man or teiffle — but 
 didn't say voman." 
 
 " I understand. Well, Will, suppose you join my com- 
 pany?" 
 
 "Keep tark !" replied Will, in a very low whisper; "1 
 see Joan's cap bobbing up in te pea-patch. I can't stand 
 it much longer — tam if I do ! She owns a pig nigger, you 
 knoAV, who larnt his drade in Burlington, and she says he 
 can shoe a horse better as me. Tam if I don't go mit you! 
 Captain, when you're ready to go after te red-coats or te 
 savages, send a note here for Yill and his dog." 
 
 Charles shook hands with the poor hen-pecked black- 
 smith, and promised not to forget him and his dog. 
 
 He soon after fell in with Richard Schooley, resting on 
 his plough in a corner of the fence. Richard stared at 
 him in silence, and with something like an expression of 
 anger on his stoical brow. 
 
 " Richard," said Charles, seeing his nod of salutation 
 had not been returned, "what makes thee so grum to- 
 
 " Thee know^s well enough," said Ricliard, with a sigh. 
 "I do not, upon my word." 
 " Thy word don't signify." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 7 I 
 
 *• What ? Do you mean to doubt ray veracity ? I>o 
 you give me tlie lie ?" 
 
 " I did not give thee the lie." 
 
 " But to doubt my word is pretty much the same thin^;. 
 Never do it again, unless you wish to quarrel with me." 
 
 " Tiiee knows we never quarrel." 
 
 *' Then what the devil is the matter?" 
 
 *' Don't use profane words, I beseech thee. But, to ug 
 plain with thee, hast thou not striven to win Julia's heart 
 away from me?" 
 
 " I have sought to win her esteem, because I respected 
 her. Have you really loved her, Richard?" 
 
 " Oh, deeply ! almost desperately ! and if thee would not 
 see me miserable, thee will forsake her and seek some other 
 maiden." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you say so, Richard. But still, if 
 it should so happen that Julia be loved by me also, why 
 not seek some other maiden yourself?" 
 
 " Thee knows we were children together ; and thee must 
 know that both my father and mother told me that Julia 
 was to be my wife." 
 
 *' Indeed! But then thee knows that Julia and I were 
 companions at Mr. Livingston's when she was a young 
 lady and I a young man." 
 
 " I know it ! And my mother always said that evil 
 might come from such indulgence." 
 
 " Thy father, her guardian, had no right to restrict hei 
 in the choice of a residence or in the selection of com- 
 panions. There is but one way, I fear, Richard, to settle 
 the difficulty." 
 
 " If thee knows any way, so I can espouse the maiden, I 
 will be obliged to thee." 
 
 " Would the maiden espouse thee, Richard, if I were re- 
 moved out of the way?" 
 
 " I think she would, in time, if father could persuade 
 her to attend our meetings." 
 
 " Oh, is that all ? Well, the way to adjust the difficulty 
 between us is, I suppose, to fight a duel. The survivor 
 will then have no rival." 
 
 " Thee knows I durst do no such thing !" said Richard, 
 with an encrimsoned visage; "and thee does very ill in 
 naming it." 
 
72 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " 1 beg your pardon, Richard. But declare thy passion 
 to Julia, if tliou wilt, and receive her answer. Know that I 
 love her as well as thyself. She must be the arbiter of her 
 own fate." 
 
 " Stay!" said Richard, seeing Charles about to move on. 
 " If thee marries her, thee being a rebel as Mr. Moody 
 Bays, thou wilt bring her to beggary, for all her lands will 
 be confiscated." 
 
 " Fool !" ejaculated Charles. " The Malcha INIanito is 
 now moving thee. Gold is thy god, and the god of too 
 many of thy persuasion. I thought thee capable of wor- 
 shipping the lovely Julia " 
 
 " Thee knows we never worship any mortal being," said 
 Richard, interrupting him. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know it. You merely sought her estates. 
 But learn, sir, that her union with me might be the only 
 means of saving them. Congress can confiscate as well aa 
 the king. Follow me to the house ; I have inore to say on 
 this subject." 
 
 Charles put spurs to his steed, and never paused until he 
 reached the stile in front of the dwelling. 
 
 He was met in the entry by Julia, who chanced to be 
 passing out, accompanied by her faithful dog. She w^ore a 
 troubled countenance, which soon vanished, however, in 
 the hearty greetings that followed. 
 
 " Meet me at the sycamore," Charles Avhispered, as he 
 passed on to accost Mr. Schooley, whose approaching step 
 his keen ear had detected. Julia vanished in silence, which 
 was a sufficient response for the lover. 
 
 "Good-morning, Charles," said Mr. Schooley; "I have 
 wished to see thee on serious matters," he continued, as he 
 led the young man into the sitting-room, where Mrs. 
 Schooley 's foot was propelling the incessant spinning- 
 wheel. She nodded her staid chin at him, and stared a 
 brief moment through her spectacles. 
 
 "I am sorry, Charles," said Mr. Schooley, when they 
 were seated, " that thy father is truly the rebel laird who 
 waged war against the King of Great Britain." 
 
 "And I am proud of it, sir!" said Charles. 
 
 "I hope thee will be calm. Thee knows it is a gi'ievoua 
 jffence for one to take up arms against the sovereign." 
 
 "King George was not the rightful king. Thou kuowest. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 73 
 
 Thomas, it was the Stuarts who granted religious liberty to 
 the outcast members of thy society when they landed in 
 this country.' 
 
 "That is true; but we are bound to honour the rulers 
 set over us, without discussing their right to govern." 
 
 " Very good, Thomas," said Charles, quickly; "and if 
 you remain of that opinion long, you and I will concur in 
 honouring the Congress, which will soon be omnipotent. 
 King George III. has ceased to reign in America. I 
 renounce all allegiance to him!" 
 
 " "What ! what dost thou say?" exclaimed Mrs. Schooley, 
 the thread snapping asunder in her fingers and the wheel 
 abruptly pausing in its revolutions. 
 
 "I say," continued Charles, "so surely as thy wheel 
 has ceased to revolve, Mary, a great revolution has begun 
 in this country." 
 
 "Thee is mistaken! thee is mad!" said she, her foot 
 again violently in motion. 
 
 " Yes, thou art greatly in error, Charles," said Mr. 
 Schooley; " and I desire thee to pay particular attention 
 to what I am going to say. Thou knowest I am a magis- 
 trate, and it is my duty to arrest any offender that may be 
 pointed out within the limits of my jurisdiction. Thy father 
 confesses he is the individual described in the document 
 that Bonnel received from John Johnston, called Sir John. 
 Thy father hath resisted the king's authority " 
 
 "Certainly," said Charles; "he resisted the king's 
 claim to the throne." 
 
 " Thee knows how deadly an offence that was. Well, it 
 is incumbent on me to discharge my duty, else my com- 
 mission becomes derelict. Thee knows, if thy father be 
 taken, he will not be entitled to a trial, as he hath been 
 condemned already. The king's signature will merely be 
 required to his death-warrant, and then he must be exe- 
 cuted. Such, thee must know, was the case with his bro- 
 ther, Dr. Cameron. Now, inasmuch as I dislike being 
 made the instrument of the vengeance of the law, and as 1 
 have still a regard for thee, notwithstanding thou hast 
 done very wrong in attempting to woo away my ward, I 
 confess to thee that I feel an inclination — which the moni- 
 tor witliin seems hourly to strengthen — to decline the com- 
 mission sent me, and remain an inoffensive spectator of 
 
T4 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 the scenes of violence and bloodshed which I very much 
 fear will be the result of the rebellious conduct of the 
 politicians." 
 
 "I think, Thomas," said Charles, "that thou art moved 
 now by the right spirit, and that thou wilt do well in 
 yielding to its monitions." 
 
 " But then, Charles, thee knows, if I would keep myself 
 entirely aloof from implication, there must be an uttei 
 severance between every member of my family and those 
 who foolishly embark in the rebellion." 
 
 " I understand thee, Thomas. Thou canst not see that 
 this outburst is a revolution, instead of a rebellion. And 
 thou wouldst stipulate that I should cease to visit Julia, the 
 only Christian friend I ever knew besides my father, so 
 that her fortune — Avhich I do protest forms no portion of 
 my motive in seeking her hand — may remain with thine, 
 and become thy son's when thou art dead (and all must 
 die) and canst not even be a witness of the happiness his 
 wealth is to secure him ? Oh, Thomas, Thomas, I very 
 much fear, after all, the invisible spirit within, which fur- 
 nishes thee the law for thy conduct, is sometimes a very 
 dangerous and irresponsible monitor — the devil himself!" 
 
 " Thou art uttering a vile profanation 1" cried Mary, 
 dropping her thread and silencing the wheel. 
 
 "I am sorry for thee !" said Thomas. 
 
 *' Be not uneasy on my account," continued Charles; 
 "but tremble for thyself. Mammon and the true God 
 cannot be honestly worshipped at the same time or by the 
 same individual. In regard to Julia, in heaven's name, let 
 her be the arbitress of her own fate ! Let her decide for 
 herself in matters pertaining to her affections. Her 
 father never supposed he was delegating to you the privi- 
 lege of choosing a husband for his daughter ; and, if it had 
 been his purpose to bestow her lands upon your family, he 
 might have done it in a more direct manner. No, Thomas; 
 I will make no such compact with thee." 
 
 " Then thee knows the consequence. I must not be im- 
 plicated with my ward if she casts her lot among the rebels. 
 I must convince John — called Sir John — that I am a loyal 
 subject. I must deliver thy father into the custody of his 
 Majesty's governor of this colony." 
 
 "Very well. But, Thomas, thy messengers travel voiy 
 
SECOND SERIES. 75 
 
 slowly, else thou wouldst have known, as I do, that Wil- 
 liam Franklin, late his Majesty's governor, is now a pri- 
 soner, having been declared a public enemy by Congress; 
 and his successor will be my friend, and Julia's friend, and 
 my father's friend, William Livingston." 
 
 " Thee seems to be in earnest," said Thomas, in per- 
 plexity. " Thou hast never attempted to misrepresent 
 any thing, and I must do thee the justice to say so." 
 
 *'What I say is the truth. And now I have a duty to 
 perform. By these orders it is my dury to require thy 
 signature to this," continued Charles, placing a form of the 
 Declaration on the table ; " and power is given me to arrest 
 those who decline it, if they do not give security for their 
 good conduct. Be not so pale, Mary, for thou art not in 
 danger. I will be his surety. I do not believe th.at 
 Thomas advised the attack on my father's house 
 
 " Thee speaks truly, Charles," said Mr. Schooley. 
 
 "No. I have never known one of thy society to counsel 
 violence." 
 
 "That is just, Charles," said Mary. 
 
 " But it cannot be denied that the measures they advise 
 are sometimes calculated to produce bloodshed." 
 
 "What does thee mean, Charles?" asked Thomas. 
 
 " I mean, that although the slaves at Amboy were incited 
 to insurrection by the abolition declarations and teachings 
 of John Woolman, the pious tailor remained m his shop at 
 Mount Holly instead of heading the negroes. Several 
 were executed; and it strikes me that the blood which was 
 shed — both that of the negroes and their victims —flowed in 
 consequence of Woolman's intermeddling." 
 
 "John was a conscientious man," said Mary, who knew 
 him well ; " but it was an unintended wrong to speak such 
 dangerous things to our slaves." 
 
 " Whatever might have been the intention, the result 
 was most lamentable," said Charles. "Yet, I reneat, I 
 have never known a Quaker to participate directly in acts 
 of violence. But they are not slow to grasp at the wealth 
 squandered by others; and, consequently, 1 think they 
 phould not be exempted from contributing something to de- 
 fray the expenses of a just war, in which the government 
 that protects them may be involved, even if they are op- 
 posed to the shedding of blood. Therefore, if thy ion 
 
T6 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 Richard will not join the ranks, armed as the law directs, 
 he must he prepared to bear the expenses of a substitute.' 
 
 Charles then mounted his horse and galloped to the 
 sycamore overshadowing the Council Rock; and when 
 Richard joined his parents a few minutes after, and learned 
 what had been said in relation to him, he could only stare 
 in blank amazement. 
 
 Julia had been some time awaiting Charles. 
 
 " Your guardian will be quiet now, Julia," said Charles, 
 exhibiting his papers and assuming an air of authority. 
 " Instead of arresting my father, he is indebted to my for- 
 bearance for escaping an arrest himself. I acquit him, 
 however, of any participation in the incendiary assault. 
 As much as I dislike the Quakers, I do not think any of 
 them would be capable of sanctioning such acts as that." 
 
 "No, indeed," said Julia; "at least, I am sure Mr. 
 Schooley would never participate in them. But what did 
 they say respecting meV 
 
 " Oh, a great deal. They desired me never to see you 
 more." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Basilisk ! They fear you will fascinate 
 me, I suppose." 
 
 "Or rather that I will envenom your heart against- 
 Richard! But the fellow is large enough to muster; and, 
 since he will remain at home and fill a labourer's place in 
 the field, I intend to make him pay for a substitute in the 
 little army under my command. Yes ! before they knew 
 their idol William had ceased to govern or to enjoy his 
 liberty, they proposed — I mean Mr. Schooley proposed — to 
 resign his commission, and thereby sufier my falner to 
 escape arrest, and the executioner's block, as a strt of 
 equivalent for my relinquishment of your society." 
 
 "Surely they put a very high estimate upon it: But 
 then they have almost intimated a purpose to relinquish it 
 themselves ; for my good guardian has hinted at tne ne- 
 cessity of returning to Burlington, since we too may be 
 liable to such outrages as happened on your lather's 
 premises." 
 
 " And what could you say in reply to that ?" 
 
 "I read to him Kate Livingston's letter brought by the 
 last express. She writes that her father thinks it will soon 
 be unsafe for her to remain in the old settlements, and she 
 
SECOND SERIES. 77 
 
 ii.is a strong desire to be here with me. She is enchanted 
 she sdjs, with my descriptions of life and scenery in the 
 forest." 
 
 "But did not Thomas say something in behalf of poor 
 Richard ?" 
 
 "Not directly. But both he and Mary expatiated on 
 the beauties of Quakerism, and seemed anxious I should 
 join the meeting. That obstacle removed, Richard's su- 
 perior merits would doubtless secure the inestimable prize. 
 But Avhy do you stare so ? Oh, there are new pictures on 
 the tree ! Read them for me," she added, when they had 
 risen. 
 
 "Blue Pigeon has arrived with a message from my 
 mother !" 
 
 " From your mother? Oh, yes, I remember; you told 
 me she was ever indulgent and affectionate, and they called 
 her " 
 
 " Gentle Moonlight. And she was truly gentle. And 
 Blue Pigeon was one of my most loved companions." 
 
 " But here is the song-bird again — the same painted by 
 the other Indian. Its mouth is open, and it sings for thy 
 return." 
 
 " My sister joins my mother in the message. I will 
 know more when I see Blue Pigeon." 
 
 " Is it right to call the Thrush thy sister ? Have you 
 not said the mother who adopted thee was only the aunt 
 of Brandt and his sister ? How, then, can they be your 
 sister and brother ?" 
 
 " Gentle Moonlight," said Charles, with emotion, " lost 
 her husband in battle, and her only child, a little son, 
 sickened and died. This was before my capture. After 
 her bereavement, Brandt and his sister called her mother; 
 her affection was bestowed on them, and they seemed to 
 love their aunt almost as well as their true mother. Their 
 mother, seeing this, prevailed on Sir John Johnston to pro- 
 cure a white captive for her sister, on whom her love might 
 be lavished. Sir John complied, and I was the captive. 
 Gentle Moonlight loved me as fondly as she had done her 
 .wn lost son, while I was taught to call Brandt my brother 
 and Brown Thrush my sister." 
 
 " And they now wish you to return — to ma'-ry Brown 
 Thrush, and remain with them — to " 
 
78 IVILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " Ah, Julia ! how can you utter such bitter words ? Am 
 I not free ? — a man — and a white man ? Have I not found 
 my father?" 
 
 " Oh, very true ! But do not the rules among the In- 
 dians require an unconditional compliance with the requests 
 of mothers ? Do not all inheritances, titles, and wealth, 
 come from the mother ? Do not the mothers contract the 
 marriages and the maidens sometimes make the pro- 
 posals?" 
 
 "Very true; but Gentle Moonlight is not really my 
 mother, and I am no Indian." 
 
 "And I have learned that the Brown Thrush and her 
 brother are the children of the British knight." 
 
 " It is so said, but I doubt it. They have very fair 
 complexions, it is true ; but I have seen hundreds of the 
 children of the forest as fair as themselves." 
 
 " Then, as Moonlight is not thy mother, as thou hast 
 found thy father," continued Julia, archly, "and as thou 
 hast no Indian blood in thy veins, thou wilt remain ?' 
 
 " I do not know what may be required of me. I must 
 see this runner, this old playmate of mine, and hear what 
 he has to say. But, Julia, Avhatever I may do, whatever 
 may be my fate, you alone have my heart. It is thine. 
 But still I must feel a brother's affection for my forest 
 sister. A more gentle and loving creature does not exist. 
 She would have died for me, and " 
 
 " She loves you ! She loves you ! But it is no fault 
 of thine. Poor, unhappy girl ! I wish she were my 
 companion here, or I were with the Gentle Moon- 
 light " 
 
 " Nay, Julia, you know not what you say ! You know 
 not how soon the Iroquois may be hurling the tomahawk 
 at the heads of our race and kindred. Then the brave and 
 terrible brother of the Thrush, and the nephew of the 
 Gentle Moonlight, will be upon the war-path. He will 
 descend the valleys with yells of vengeance for the ills the 
 Indians have suffered at the hands of the white man. And 
 the Gentle Moonlight and the singing Thrush must be 
 witnesses of the tortures inflicted upon prisoners. They 
 will be chilled by the howls of the Malcha Manito which 
 dwells in the shrivelled bosom of Queen Esther — the re- 
 morseless Catharine Montour " 
 
SECOND SERIES. 79 
 
 " Oh ! name her not ! I have heard of her cruelties — 
 and she not an Indian !" 
 
 "No, Jidia. The whites are as capable of committing 
 monstrous cruelties as the poor Indians. But I know you 
 could never bccouie a second Catharine Montour, or desire 
 to witness her savapjc fierceness. She is the daughter of the 
 French governor, Frontenac, it is believed, and was made 
 queen by the Senecas. She carries a war-club and scalping- 
 knife, and slays the miserable prisoners with her own hands !" 
 
 " Horrible ! No ; I would not behold her. Nor would 
 I have thee see her. But I fear this messenger will sum- 
 mon thee away." 
 
 " I would not obey any summons of hers. She is a Se- 
 neca. Among the Indians I am of the bird tribe, having 
 taken the name of White Eagle, which was conferred by 
 Gentle Moonlight when they made me a chief. I was under 
 the usual age, but had saved the life of Brandt. I will tell 
 thee the manner of it some other time. Queen Esther's 
 totem is the wolf." 
 
 " Then you might intermarry with the feathered tribe," 
 said Julia, smiling ; " and of course the thrush is one of 
 them." 
 
 "No," said Charles; "it is not permitted for those of 
 the same totems to marry." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 "But then," he continued, "my forest sister's totem is 
 the turtle, or tortoise." 
 
 "And, then, you might marry her?" 
 
 " Perhaps, if I desired it. But see ! Solo is bristling 
 up, and growls. Behold, yonder comes Blue Pigeon ! He 
 has sought me at my father's house, and returns to the tree. 
 Be quiet. Solo ! And my poor horse, Yameder, pricks up 
 his ears. Will you remain ? You may, if you desire it ; 
 but you will not understand our language." 
 
 " Yes, I will remain." 
 
 When the Blue Pigeon recognised Charles, after a long 
 pause, he sprang forward and clasped him in his arms ; 
 and, upon being informed that Julia was the Antelope of 
 wdiom he had doubtless heard Brandt speak, he offered his 
 hand, and uttered the word "sister" in good English. And 
 Julia, struck by his noble features and perfect form, called 
 him "brother." 
 
80 WILD WESTERN SCENES! 
 
 "Now, my brother," said Charles, "my ear is open. I 
 am ready to hear the words of my mother." 
 
 "The Gentle Moonlight," said the young warrior, "has 
 been weeping. Like the dew-drops on the leaves at early 
 morning, the tears have stood upon her face. Her sister's 
 children have striven to comfort her, but they have another 
 mother. 'White Eagle,' said she, 'has no mother but the 
 Gentle Moonlight, and she beholds not her son.' She waited 
 very patiently until the moons were ended during his stay 
 at college. Then she sang with joy, and the Brown Thrush 
 also sang with her. But the wings of her noble Eagle did 
 not cleave the air of the mountain. The dew was not wiped 
 from her face by the feathers of her darling boy. Thayen- 
 danegea said the White Eagle had come within a short 
 flight of his mother, but was perched near an Antelope that 
 had charmed hira. Then Queen Esther summoned a council 
 of the warriors, chiefs, and sachems, and proposed that the 
 Five Nations should invade this country and burn and slay. 
 But their ears were closed to her words. It was the land 
 of the Sagorighwiyogstha, (Doer of Justice,) and if the 
 Indians loved the young AVhite Eagle, why should not the 
 pale-faces love him too ? Then Gentle Moonlight was per- 
 mitted to speak. She said her son had never disobeyed 
 her. He had said, when his white-haired father led him 
 away, that he would never cease to love his forest mother. 
 And he never lied. She would therefore summon him to 
 her presence, and if he still loved her he would obey. If 
 he loved the Antelope too, still he would come to the Gentle 
 Moonlight, and return again to his new charmer. He might 
 do so, if he desired it. But he must come to his mother, 
 or she would die. Such were her words, my brother, and 
 I have given them truly^ to you." 
 
 "Blue Pigeon, my brother," said Charles, "you have 
 seen the dew-drops fall from my eyes when you repeated 
 the words of my mother. She is the only mother I have 
 in the world. She loved me ever as the dearest of mothers 
 only can love. She loves me still. Moons may wane, but 
 a mother's love does not decline. The White Eagle still 
 loves the Gentle Moonlight. My brother, look at my face 
 and repeat my words to my mother. Say I will love her 
 always. But her Eagle cannot say at the present time 
 when he will fly to her wigwam ; — whether it will be this 
 
SECOND SERIES. 81 
 
 moon or the next. But he will come. lie never lies. lie 
 must first see his white-haired father, and hear his c.unsel; 
 and he must take leave of the Antelope, who will be sad at 
 his Hight. Go, my brother. Return to the forest by the 
 clear waters where you and I have hunted the deer and the 
 bear. We were very happy then. I shall again behold 
 the wild scenes through which we loved to roam. Tell my 
 mother I often see her in my dreams. I awake and find 
 myself near the torn fields of the white man. I hide my 
 face and try to dream again. I would dream forever. Fare- 
 well, my brother. 1 have finished until we meet again." 
 
 Charles remained in a profound reverie after Blue Pigeon 
 had departed, which even Julia did not seek to break until 
 the silence became painful. 
 
 "Is it not as I conjecture?" asked Julia. 
 
 "Precisely," said Charles. "My mother has sent for 
 me." 
 
 "And you have declined going?" 
 
 "No, Julia. She consents to my return hither after 
 seeing her. I have sent her word that I will come ; but I 
 could not say when. I must consult my father, and also 
 General Livingston." 
 
 " They will keep you with them or kill you if you again 
 put yourself in their power," said she. 
 
 " No — I fear nothing. They durst not injure me. War 
 is not declared by them. I may prevent it. If not, I can 
 return hither." 
 
 "But will they really consent to it?" 
 
 " I suppose so. If not, I could easily escape. Adieu. 
 I must see my father and send his runner, the boy Skippie, 
 to General Livingston, or Governor Livingston, or whatever 
 his title may be by this time. Have your letter for Kate 
 in readiness ; but do not prevail on her to urge her father 
 to decide against my visit to the lakes. It is only a few 
 days' travel. At this season the Indians are at home, pe- 
 titioning De-o-ha-ho, the spi^-it who presides over the growth 
 of corn, beans, and squashes. In the fall they might be 
 in the great western hunting-grounds beyond the Ohio, 
 whither Gentle Moonlight sometimes accompanies them, 
 for she used to take me thither." 
 
 "And you have seen the 'Dark and Bloody Ground' lu 
 Kentucky?" 
 
82 
 
 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 •'Yes, and a fairer land the sun never shone upon. 
 Many a happj day have I passed under its maples, and 
 many a blissful dream of Kentucky still illumines my 
 slumbers. Adieu!" 
 
 He galloped away, while the maiden, with a throbbing 
 bosom, gazed after him until he vanished from her sight. 
 She then turned her footsteps toward home, warbling a 
 plaintive ditty, and thinking of the Indian maiden who bore 
 the name of one of the sweetest of wild-wood songsters. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PADDY TOMAHAWKED AND SCALPED — CHARLES STARTS ON 
 HIS JOURNEY WESTWARD. 
 
 As had been predicted, William Livingston had been 
 appointed governor by the people's Colonial Legislature ; 
 and at the moment when Skippie was admitted into his 
 cabinet the governor was inditing a letter to Charles, urg- 
 ing him to make an excursion into the Indian country for 
 the purpose of ascertaining the intentions of the tribes 
 regarding the war with the mother country, which was now 
 waged in earnest ; so that the visit of the young man to 
 the fondly-remembered scenes and friends of his youth was 
 to meet no impediment in that quarter. 
 
 And soon after Skippie's return the father of Charles 
 yielded a reluctant consent to the journey. Mr. Schooley, 
 whose discretion led him to adopt an obscure and inoffensive 
 position between the contending parties, but who could not 
 be induced to relinquish the idea of marrying his son 
 Richard to Julia, heai'tily approved the project. But 
 Julia's objections remained to be overcome. Charles met 
 her almost daily at the sycamore-tree, and was still beguiled 
 of many weeks which might have sufficed for performing 
 the journey. 
 
 Meantime, there were rumours of preparations on the part 
 of the Indians to attack the settlements. These accounts, 
 BO far as it regarded the readiness of the Iroquois to com- 
 mence active hostilities immediately, were disci edited by 
 
SECOND SERIES. S'^ 
 
 Charles. He riglitly attributed them to the instructions of 
 Moody and other tories, issued by the agents of the crown 
 as a means of keeping the people in continual alarm and 
 preventing them from sending succours to the American 
 army. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was a well-ascertained fact that several 
 small parties of roving savages had committed depredation? 
 near tlie Gap and in the valleys on both sides of the Blae 
 Mountain. A number of horses had been stolen and one 
 or two men had been killed. 
 
 Poor Paddy was rendered very uncomfortable; and Mr. 
 Green related some new story of Indian warfare every 
 evening ; and, at the conclusion of his horrible tales of 
 tomahawking and scalping, he never failed to predict that 
 Buch scenes would soon be re-enacted in that vicinity. 
 
 To such a degree had Paddy's imagination been wrought 
 upon, that he was often seen running across the garden 
 upon hearing any unusual noise. His mind seemed to be 
 filled with fears of snakes and Indians. One day, when 
 Mr. Schooley, Julia, and Charles were sitting in the hall, 
 where the hum of the small spinning-wheel and the bang 
 of the loom assailed their ears, they wxre startled by the 
 entrance of Rose, who, with dilated eyes, said Paddy was 
 mad — stark, staring mad — in the garden, and was then 
 dancing. 
 
 " Does thee say dancing ?" asked Mr. Schooley, rising 
 indignantly; for any thing like dancing was an abomination 
 in his sight. He was followed by Julia and Charles and 
 the Newfoundland dog. 
 
 Sure enough, Paddy was seen springing about in every 
 direction, and sometimes leaping up perpendicularly ; and 
 he seemed to be continually striking at something with a hoe. 
 
 "What hast thou there, Patrick?" asked Mr. Schooley. 
 
 " Och, yer honour, a hundred divils ! It was the great 
 Barpint they tell of in the Apocalypse. It came out and 
 lifted its head and looked at me face, and so I struck him 
 across the back and cut him in two." 
 
 " And then thee killed it, I suppose ?" 
 
 " And would ye suppose it ? Take that, ye blackguard !" 
 he continued, cutting at it again, and then jumping aside. 
 " Kilt him ? Divil a bit, saving yer honour's prisence. But 
 what d'ye think he did when I cut him in two V 
 
M WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 *'Tlifee mast tell," said Mr. Sclioolej, "for I never 
 guess." 
 
 " Then see here, Miss Julia," he said, as she approached ; 
 " as I hope to save my sowl, when I cut the baste in two, 
 both ends began to run afther me ! and when I cut them 
 in two, all four of 'em crawled toward me. And I kept 
 cutting till there was more than a dozen, and all from one !" 
 
 " It was a joint-snake," said Charles, looking down at 
 the wi'ithing particles of its body. 
 
 "Take care of his head!" cried Paddy, "for*it won't 
 die, and can run when it's not longer than Miss Julia's 
 Bwate little toe. And it's a jint-snake ye call it ? Well, 
 I niver seed the likes before." 
 
 "Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, "it was an unoffending 
 creature, and thee did wrong to molest it." 
 
 "Then I'm sorra, yer honour; but I was jist thinking 
 of the bloody Indians, who they say will snake up behint 
 and strike ye on the back of yer head wid a hard iron 
 tomahawk. And " 
 
 " Patrick," said his master, " I see the cows in the 
 orchard, trampling the new-mown hay. Go and drive 
 them out." 
 
 "And, Paddy," said Charles, "keep a good lookout for 
 Indians." 
 
 " Och, but you're joking now, Misther Charles, for I'm 
 sure you'd niver be guilty of saying sich things if you 
 thought any savages were about." 
 
 Paddy set off in a brisk trot, while the rest, amused, 
 gazed after him. He had not gone more than fifty paces 
 before he stumbled against the teeth of a rake that had 
 been left lying on the ground. The handle flew up and 
 struck him a smart blow on the back of his head, and, 
 uttering a piercing cry, he fell forward on his face and 
 lay quite still. Supposing the man might be injured by 
 the blow, Charles and Mr. Schooley hastened to him, while 
 Julia followed at her leisure. 
 
 "What's the matter, Paddy?" asked Charles. 
 
 "Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, deliberately, "art thou 
 suffering any pain?" 
 
 " Why don't you speak ?" demanded Charles, endeavour- 
 ing to turn him over so that his face would be Vxsible ; and, 
 after several efforts, he succeeded. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 85 
 
 " Murther ! murther ! murthcr!" cried Paddy, in such 
 stunning tones that even Richard, in the most dijtant fiehl, 
 neard him distinctly, and paused in mid-furrow. 
 
 "Where art thou injured, Patrick?" asked Thomas; and 
 th%n added, since Paddy did not reply, " I saw thee receive 
 the blow, but did not think it could injure thy head." 
 
 " St. Pater and the Howly Vargin !" cried Paddy, with 
 his eyes convulsively closed; "I'm dying, dying, dying!" 
 and the last utterance was the loudest. 
 
 "If you are dying, Paddy," said Charles, "be kind 
 enough to tell us what kill.ed you." 
 
 "The Indians!" he yelled. "I've been tomahawked 
 and sculped ! One of 'em was standing behint an apple- 
 tree and hit me on the back of me head ! Then another 
 sculped me ! Oh, the blackguards !" 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Charles, after a burst of hearty laugh- 
 ter, in which Julia joined, and which could not be wholly 
 resisted by the sedate Thomas. " Do you not see we are 
 laughing at you? Open your eyes, man ! We are not In- 
 dians. It was a mistake — a dream." 
 
 "A drame was it?" cried Paddy, sitting upright, and 
 opening his eyes. "But drames don't hurt," he continued, 
 placing his hand against the wounded part. " Och, mur- 
 ther ! I'm sculped!" he cried again, upon beholding blood 
 on his hand. He fell back and closed his eyes once more. 
 
 Charles, upon examination, found he had received a 
 slight contusion, from which flowed a few drops of blood. 
 
 "Here, Paddy," said he, "is the Indian. Open your 
 eyes and see him. He is our prisoner." 
 
 " He is ? And you've taken the blackguard ? Why, 
 Mr. Charles, that is a rake!" 
 
 " It is the Indian that tomahawked and scalped you, 
 Paddy, for I saw him do it." 
 
 " Saw the rake do it ! And you mane to say, Mr. Charles, 
 that I hit the tathe with my fut, and the helve came up 
 and struck me behint? And I'm not kilt, then?" he con- 
 tinued, rising to his feet. 
 
 " No, Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, looking quite angry, 
 •* and yet thee has alarmed the whole plantation. To-mor- 
 row, and the next day, it will be the same thing. There is 
 no peace where thou art. Thee must leave " 
 
 " Lave ! Did your honour say lave ?" 
 
86 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 ** Thee must leave such idle alarms to the women.** 
 
 '' Yes, leave them to us, Paddy," said Julia. 
 
 " And it's cowardice you'd be afther charging Patrick 
 Pence wid? Och, Mr. Thomas, if you could only saa me 
 blood up onct! Och, murther! look at that!" And Paddy 
 having pressed the back of his head again, a few more 
 drops of blood stained his hand. He did not lie down, 
 however, but resumed his work in the garden. 
 
 Months had now passed since Charles had promised to 
 visit his Indian foster-mother, and he still lingered in the 
 valley where dwelt his father and Julia. Ilis father, hav- 
 ing at first given permission for the journey with great 
 reluctance, at length urged him to set out, since Governor 
 Livingston desired it and he had pledged his word to make 
 the visit. 
 
 Finally, the day of setting out was appointed a fortnight 
 in advance, and every preparation was made for the event. 
 Charles decided to resume his Indian dress ; and, as Julia 
 superintended its completion, it may be presumed it was 
 not deficient in tasteful decoration. 
 
 Sergeant Murphy was to be left in charge of the company 
 which had been formed. The men had been assembled 
 several times for parade, armed with their own rifles, and 
 then dismissed to their houses. No orders came for them 
 to march away, and Governor Livingston had intimated 
 that it might be necessary for them to remain in their own 
 county. Richard Schooley had failed to muster ; and his 
 father did not neglect to pay the fine which Murphy was 
 charged to collect. 
 
 Mrs. Van Wiggens's tavern and shop prospered very 
 well. Her husband, as he had feared, became a mere 
 cipher under the thumb of his tyrannical spouse. But, 
 about the time of the departure of Charles, he was recalled 
 to the plantation of his patron to act again in the capacity 
 of overseer, in the place of Peter Shaver, who had been 
 his successor in office, but who, becoming dissatisfied with 
 his Quaker employer, as it was supposed, or his wages, had 
 absconded. No one knew whither he had gone. The last 
 time he had been seen was when setting out one morning 
 on his crop-eared Indian pony with a bag of grain, which 
 he said he intended to have ground at a mill some miles 
 distant. His object was professedly to ascertain if thy 
 
SECOND SERIES. 87 
 
 Quaker miller tliey usually patronized had not been in the 
 habit of taking excessive toll. Peter was a short, fat man, 
 something like Van Wiggens, and hence was distinctly re- 
 membered by all who had seen him. If he had not ab- 
 sconded, the supposition was that he had been killed. 
 
 And so Van AViggens was now relieved of the tongue- 
 lashings of Mrs. Van Wiggens during the day, and was a 
 curious witness of the preparations made by Julia for ihe 
 decoration of the young chief, as Charles was often termed. 
 And more than once he took occasion to intimate that, it 
 Peter Shaver should return before the day appointed foi 
 commencing the journey, he would rather go into the In- 
 dian country with the White Eagle than return to his wife. 
 But Peter did not return. 
 
 At length the day of departure arrived. Charles had 
 taken leave of Julia under the sycamore-tree, decked in his 
 elegant Indian costume. His head-dress was surmounted 
 with white feathers ; his buckskin coat, leggins, and mocca- 
 sins, were studded with beads and spangles, or stained poicu- 
 pine-quills. His embroidered blanket was folded carefully 
 and strapped behind the saddle, on which he sat with the 
 erectness and grace peculiar to the Indians and those who 
 have dwelt among them. lie had his rifle, his tomahawk, 
 a dirk that McSwine had thrust into his belt, and — what 
 was shocking to some of the inhabitants — a scalping-knife. 
 These, with a few indispensable utensils for cooking, com- 
 prised his equipment. 
 
 His aged father bestowed his blessing upon him, and, turn- 
 ing sadly away, shut himself up with his books. Charles, 
 directing his steed toward the west, disappeared in the 
 forest, followed by the cheers of his friends and by the 
 light pursuing step of Skippie, the sandy-haired boy, of 
 whom it was said he never spoke with his tongue so much 
 R8 by his looks and features. 
 
8<5 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CNE CRYING IN THE WILDERNESS — THE PANTHER AND 
 T'JRKEY — PETER SHAVER — GENTLE MOONLIGHT AND 
 BROWN THRUSH. 
 
 Once more in the solitude of the forest, Charles loosened 
 the reins and permitted his noble steed to walk leisurely 
 along the narrow path. It was one of the old war-paths 
 of the Indians, leading to the great lakes of the Northwest ; 
 and, although it had become overgrown and indistinct to 
 those unused to the wilderness, the young man had no diffi- 
 culty in discerning it. 
 
 The birds sang on every bough or flitted gayly from tree 
 to tree. The hare sat upright in the wild grass, gazing 
 without alarm at the solitary wanderer. The doe and her 
 spotted fawns emerged from the tangled thicket, and drank 
 of the cool limpid water at the gurgling brook; and the 
 sun rode gloriously over all in a cloudless sky, gladdening 
 the myriads of joyous insects that basked in its genial rays. 
 
 A balmy breeze cooled the fevered temples of the wan- 
 derer ; and, as he looked upon the inspiring scene of moun- 
 tains, woods, and streams, sweet memories of the happy 
 days of his sunlit childhood flitted athwart his mind. They 
 came like phantoms of pleasant dreams which too quickly 
 vanish. But he strove to prolong their presence ; and, 
 while he luxuriated in the vision, consciousness of his pre- 
 sent condition gradually faded away. Thus he was again 
 completely a child of the wilderness, and oblivious of the 
 flight of the passing hours, until the hooting of the owl 
 and the darkening of the glades admonished him of the 
 approach of night. His noble steed, too, liad been reared 
 among the Indians, and seemed to have an instinctive 
 Knowledge of the direction his rider wished to pursue ; for 
 Charles had long ceased to notice the ancient encampments, 
 the intersecting paths, and the moss upon the northern side 
 of the trees. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 89 
 
 Nevertheless, after drawing rein and dismounting tc 
 prepare his diminutive encampment, Charles became aware 
 of his location. He had descended the western side of the 
 Blue Mountain, and was now upon the narrow bottom of 
 one of the small trout-streams emptying into the Delaware, 
 Bome few miles distant. It was in the midst of a clump 
 of gigantic trees, whose huge trunks seemed like vast co- 
 lumns supporting the blue vault above. There was but 
 little undergrowth, except the wild grass, upon which the 
 Bteed was turned loose to graze. No fears were enter- 
 tained of the faithful animal deserting him. The horse of 
 a solitary traveller becomes attached to his master, and 
 will not relinquish his society. 
 
 Charles was at no loss in the forest to provide for his 
 comfort. With his toraahaAvk and knife the framework of 
 his camp was soon completed. The small forks and poles 
 were furnished by the thicket fringing the base of the 
 mountain ; while the dry bark torn from the trunk of a 
 gigantic hickory-tree sufficed for the roof to shelter him 
 from the dew, and also for fuel with which to cook his 
 simple repast. The rear of the camp was protected by the 
 trunk of a large fallen tree, and at the opposite end the 
 fire was kindled ; and, while his meat hung before the 
 crackling fagots, lie gathered rushes from the margin of 
 the brook and elastic twigs from the pendant boughs, with 
 which he prepared his couch. 
 
 While partaking of his frugal meal, the young man 
 several times observed his horse lift up his head and look 
 in the direction of the thicket alr<»ady referred to. The 
 animal exhibited no signs of alarm, and always, after gazing 
 a moment, resumed his browsing. Charles did not suppose 
 it an object worthy of attention. It might be a wolf, a 
 fox, a raccoon, or some other animal attracted by the light 
 of the fire or the odour of the meat, and from which there 
 was nothing to fear. If it had been a bear or a panther, 
 (and neither of which would be likely to assail him,) his 
 horse would not have retained his composure. And thus 
 this noble animal not unfrequently discharges the duty of 
 a faithful sentinel. 
 
 Later in the night the moon arose' in brilliance, and hei 
 silvery rays glimmered tremblingly through the thick 
 foliage slightly agitated by the gentle breeze. The beetles 
 
 8^ 
 
90 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 cbirpefl pleasantly in cadence with the mournful wail of the 
 "whippoorwill, and the soft approaches of soothing slumber 
 began to lull the senses of the youth. Spreading his 
 blanket on the couch, and happening to cast his eyes over 
 the fallen trunk near which he Avas about to place hia 
 head, he beheld the face of Skippie. 
 
 For a brief interval Charles remained perfectly still and 
 eilent, for he had acquired the Indian habit of suppressing 
 the symptoms of any sudden emotion. 
 
 " Why are you here, Skippie?" he demanded. 
 
 "He did not say no," was the answer. 
 
 "My father?" 
 
 To this Skippie nodded aflEirmatively. 
 
 "And you asked his permission?" 
 
 Again there was an affirmative nod. 
 
 " Then come in and eat ; and afterward lie down and 
 sleep." 
 
 Skippie did his bidding in silence. This youth — or rather 
 dwarf, for the wrinkles on his forehead indicated that he 
 had long since passed the age of adolescence — was one of 
 the clan Cameron, and had joined his exiled laird in Canada, 
 and acted in the capacity of page to his mistress until her 
 death. Afterward he became a constant attendant on the 
 exile, and Charles was aware that he had been of great 
 service to his father in procuring news from distant points, 
 (for, although exceedingly small, he was very active, and 
 seemed insensible to fatigue,) and in warning him of ap- 
 proaching danger on several momentous occasions. And 
 not the least valuable of his qualifications as a runner — a 
 term familiar in the Indian country — was his uniform taci- 
 turnity. He heard every thing ; but nothing was ever 
 learned from him by any but his chief or trusted persons 
 of his household. 
 
 Toward morning Charles awoke and rekindled the fire, 
 but did not lie down again. Perceiving that Skippie 
 bad likewise finished his slumber, he beckoned him to 
 approach. 
 
 "Skippie," said he, "I have been dreaming of my In- 
 dian mother. I was too young to remember my white 
 mother. What was she like ?" 
 
 " Blue eyes, like the sky. Tall, straight, fair skin, and 
 light hair. An angel." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 91 
 
 *' Enough, Skippie ! I would not hear another word in 
 regard to her form and heauty. But was she good ?" 
 
 "An angel." 
 
 " True. She is in heaven. \Yas she not religious, 
 Skippie ?" 
 
 "An angel,'' he repeated. 
 
 " I forgot, Skippie. But, Skippie, I cannot help loving 
 my Indian mother very, very much." 
 
 " She is an angel." 
 
 " Oh, true ! you saw her." 
 
 " I found you. I lived in the woods five years, hunting 
 for you." 
 
 " I did not know that, Skippie. And it may be the rea- 
 son why you follow me and seem determined to watch over 
 me." 
 
 "Bight." 
 
 " You mean it is for that reason ?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " I thank you, Skippie ; but I am now old enough to 
 take care of myself; and if any thing occurs during this 
 visit which it would be desirable for them to know in the 
 valley, I shall send you thither." 
 
 "So." 
 
 "And you will go ?" 
 
 " Go," he replied, with one of his affirmative nods. 
 
 The sun arose in great splendour on the second morning, 
 and after partaking of a hearty meal, which had been pre- 
 pared by the skilful Skippie, the travellers pursued their 
 journey toward the boundary-line of the State of New 
 York, and passed it in the forenoon. Then, turning to the 
 left, they followed the old war-path in the direction of the 
 lakes which ran near the northeastern corner of Penn- 
 sylvania. 
 
 AVhen the sun was midway in the heavens, Charles faintly 
 heard a hallooing, and, as the sound appeared to be in the 
 direction he was pursuing, his pace was quickened. The 
 cry seemed to proceed from one in distress, and Charles 
 knew it was not an Indian. 
 
 Presently he detected the recent footmarks of a man in 
 a path that crossed the one he was following ; and, as the 
 halloo was still heard at intervals on the right, he dis- 
 mounted, and, throwing the reins to Skippie, proceeded 
 
92 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 cautiously in that direction. The path, ■which followed the 
 course of one of the small tributaries of the Delaware, 
 «oon emerged from the dense thicket of bushes and entered 
 the dark woods. And here an unexpected scene awaited 
 the young adventurer. On his right, and but a few pnces 
 distant, in the forks of a chestnut-tree, was a large pan- 
 ther, in the act of springing upon him. The animal was 
 in a crouching attitude, its eyes glaring furiously, and the 
 point of its tail oscillating rapidly, as is usual with carnivo- 
 rous beasts when assailing an enemy or seizing their prey. 
 
 The practised eye and steady hand of Charles sufficed 
 for the emergency. Almost as instantaneously as thought, 
 the report of his rifle rang through the woods, and the 
 panther lay struggling in its death-throes at his feet. And 
 even then the animal might have inflicted a serious wound 
 had he not been despatched by the dirk of Skippie, who 
 bounded forward and stabbed him to the heart in the midst 
 of his convulsive flounderings. 
 
 "Done that before!" said he; meaning that he had 
 stabbed other panthers and escaped their claws. 
 
 " But it was not the voice of a panther we heard, Skip- 
 pie," said Charles. 
 
 "No!" said a stranger ; "but verily the voice of one 
 crying in the wilderness!" 
 
 " Ha !" said Charles, descrying the form of a man in 
 the same tree the panther had occupied, but upon a per- 
 pendicular branch some twenty feet above the forks, which 
 he seemed to be hugging with desperate tenacity. 
 
 " How did you get up there?" asked Charles, seeing the 
 limb, which was without lateral shoots, swaying backward 
 and forward under its heavy burden. 
 
 " My son," said the stranger, who was a man of large 
 dimensions, " I am uncomfortable here. Let me first con- 
 trive to get down, and then I will speak of the manner of 
 my getting up." 
 
 " Slide down, sir," said Charles. 
 
 *'You are sure he's dead?" 
 
 " Quite," replied Charles, lifting up one of the feet of 
 the animal and displaj^ing its enormous but harmless claws. 
 
 " That was not a pleasant descent," said the stranger, 
 after descending more rapidly than he desired, and being 
 slightly stunned by his collision with the earth; "but,' 
 
SECOND SERIES. 93 
 
 be added, " it is the mode of the bear, and they say I am 
 as hardy as one, if not as rough, sometimes." 
 
 '' Now, will you tell me how one of your bulk and 
 weight could ascend such a pole as that?" 
 
 " God aided me, and all things are possible with him. 
 I know not the manner of it, my friend. I do not recol 
 lect climbing up there, but I suppose I must have done so. 
 1 remember being pursued by the animal, and mounting to 
 the forks when she was at my heels. Many a panthei 
 have I seen in these wild woods, but never have I been 
 pursued before. Yet it was my own fault or imprudence ; 
 I killed her young one on the wayside, not supposing its 
 mother to be within hearing." 
 
 " The mother is never out of hearing," said Charles, 
 " when her young are basking in the sunshine. But who 
 are you? Let me see. The Rev. David Jones! I am 
 glad to meet you, sir." 
 
 "And you have my solemn assurance, my friend, that I 
 reciprocate the gladness, although I do not recognise your 
 face." 
 
 " We have met several times, sir. Once at Princeton 
 when you disputed with the Presbyterians " 
 
 " Exhorted — expostulated, my young Christian friend, 
 as I do not doubt you are a convert from the pagans — a 
 brand snatched from the fire." 
 
 "Again, at Burlington, where you denounced the doc- 
 trines of Mr. Odell, the Church-of-England minister." 
 
 " Denied — not denounced — universal election, and the 
 indispensable necessity of the so-called apostolical succes- 
 sion in the ministry. God is quite as able now as ever to 
 call labourers into the harvest-field. They might as well 
 say that none but Jordan's waters would do for baptism. 
 And I have heard of one of the bishops sending to Palestine 
 for a bottle of it. The story goes, that, after he had used 
 
 It, one of the officers of the ship declared that and I 
 
 believe it, my friend." 
 
 " We met again at the foot of the Jenny Jump Moun- 
 tain, where you ofi'ered to preach to the Quakers if they 
 would take their hats oif." 
 
 " I did, indeed ; and I intended to smite their god Man> 
 Dion, but they would not listen." 
 
 "Again, I saw you comuiune with the Moravians." 
 
9^ WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " That is true. They are a good people, and they 
 have the true religion, excepting their mode of bap- 
 tism." 
 
 *'And I saw you baptize two negroes in the trout-brook 
 near the hut of my " 
 
 " Ha ! your what ? Who are you ?" 
 
 " One of the negroes — old Rose — would not go into the 
 water until I killed a rattlesnake that was basking on the 
 opposite side. And when I had done so, she said it was 
 the devil, who had stationed himself there to keep her away 
 from salvation." 
 
 *'Now I recollect all that. Oh! you are the young 
 white man who lived so long with the Indians. That is 
 the reason you now dress like one. I thought your 
 speech too good for a savage. And you are college-bred. 
 Charles Cameron is your name. Give me your hand 
 again !" 
 
 " And now farewell, Mr. Jones," said Charles. " I must 
 not withhold you from your good work.'" 
 
 "Where are you journeying, my young friend?" asked 
 the preacher, detaining him. 
 
 " To the village on the Chemung, where my Indian 
 mother is spending the summer." 
 
 " We will go together. My route lies in the same 
 direction. I go thence to the Seneca Lake, and along 
 Seneca River to the Oneida. They receive the gospel 
 messenger everywhere with kindness. With my staff and 
 knapsack, I fear no man, civilized or savage." 
 
 "But only panthers." 
 
 " True — panthers, and sometimes a serpent that crosses 
 my path. I have a pistol for them, but am apt to forget 
 it until it is too late to use it." 
 
 "But why were you travelling in this direction?" 
 
 " I had turned aside to pray ; and when I arose I found 
 the panther's kitten playing with the string of my moc- 
 casin. I thought it right to destroy the animal ; and when 
 it cried under the edge of my knife, I thought only of the 
 lambs it would have sacrificed if I had spared it, until 
 roused by the furious scream of its dam as she came 
 bounding toward me. Then, as I fled, I thought I had 
 done wrong." 
 
 "Not so, sir; for we have destroyed them both, and 
 
SECOND SERIES. 95 
 
 the skins ■will be trophies for n e to exhibit to my red 
 brethren." 
 
 Charles then removed the skins from the animals, "wlule 
 Mr. Jones informed him of all his recent peregrinations. 
 Since the baptism in the pool of the trout-brook, he had 
 seen General Washington, and sojourned -with his particu- 
 lar friend. Colonel Wayne, from whom he received instruc- 
 tions to visit the difierent tribes in Pennsylvania, New 
 York, and the West, preaching to them, and persuading 
 them to remain neutral or else to take up arms in behalf 
 of the colonies. And he stated, in a confidential tone, (for 
 he remembered that Charles had organized a company on 
 the right side,) that he bore, secreted on his person, a com- 
 mission in the army as chaplain, and was then on duty — 
 that which had been assigned him. lie had passed through 
 the Yankee settlement on the Wyoming, where, although the 
 people were pretty good whigs, they treated the preacher 
 with less respect than the Delaware Indians on the beau- 
 tiful Wyalusing. They seemed to hate the Baptists and 
 the Quakers, and the Baptists and the Quakers were as far 
 asunder as the poles 
 
 The process of skinning the panthers completed, the 
 journey was resumed. The Rev. Mr. Jones, at Charles's 
 urgent solicitation, mounted the horse; while the agile 
 young man, having had a taste of his old sport, and find- 
 ing his appetite still unsatisfied, proposed making a short 
 hunt through the woods for a fawn, or a fat young buck, 
 which might be eaten at that season. And he strode away 
 to gratify his inclination, promising to meet his companions 
 at a noted spring about a mile distant. 
 
 "My son," said the bulky preacher, as he rode down 
 the path tow'ard the broader trail which he had crossed 
 when turning aside to pray, and intently regarding the 
 lithe form of Skippie, " will you not be very tired travelling 
 on foot?" 
 
 " Tired ?" said Skippie, with an abrupt shake of his 
 head. 
 
 " It is a long path we are following, and if you desire it 
 you may ride behind me." 
 
 The only reply Skippie made to this friendly offer 
 was a quizzical glance over his shoulder, with a smile of 
 derision. 
 
96 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "You are a modest lad," continued the benevolent Bap- 
 tist. " But you need not fear to speak." 
 
 " Fear ! The de'il !" at length exclaimed Skippie, with- 
 out deigning to turn his head again. 
 
 " Boy ! you sadly need baptizing to wash away your 
 foulness, or the birch to teach you better manners." 
 
 " Dirk !" said Skippie, holding over his head the bright 
 blade of the weapon named. 
 
 Mr. Jones could not exactly comprehend the meaning 
 of the word and gesture ; but he concluded that nothing 
 could be accomplished with so impracticable a subject, and 
 he ceased to notice him. The dirk, however, could give 
 him no uneasiness, being incapable of fearing Avhat man 
 could do, and having really felt some flashes of compunc- 
 tion when flying from the panther. Finding the lad would 
 not converse with him, he commenced singing one of his 
 favourite psalms ; and, as he had a musical voice, the woods 
 soon resounded with his melody. 
 
 He continued to sing without interruption until startled 
 by a frightened gobbler that flapped up from the whortle- 
 berry bushes near the path. It alighted on one of the 
 lower boughs of a spreading oak, and,vwith its long neck 
 stretched out, seemed desirous of listening to the spiritual 
 song, so diff'erent from the sounds usually heard in the 
 forest. But Mr. Jones was preparing to regale him with a 
 sound more familiar to his ears. He had drawn forth a 
 pistol from beneath his black buckskin coat, and was taking 
 a steady aim, when the turkey fell headlong to the earth, 
 his neck almost severed by the rifle-ball of Charles, who 
 had approached Mr. Jones to request him to cease singing, 
 as it frightened the deer. 
 
 "A capital shot, that!" said Mr. Jones, leaping from his 
 horse and lifting up the gobbler. " I am glad to see you 
 again," he added, as Charles stepped forward with a smile 
 on his lip. 
 
 "Why do you call it a capital shot?" asked Charles; 
 while Skippie sank down and rolled over in convulsions of 
 suppressed merriment. 
 
 "I aimed at his body, I confess," said Mr. Jones, with 
 gravity ; " but the ball rose in a straight line and broke 
 his neck. It was a good shot for a pistol, and the distance 
 must have been fifty paces." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 97 
 
 " At least," said Charles, comprehending the mistake 
 of the Baptist, and having no disposition to undeceive 
 him. 
 
 "Pistol!" said Skippie, through his tears of silent 
 laughter. 
 
 " Certainly, a pistol, my lad. Why do you laugh at my 
 capital shot ?" demanded Mr. Jones. 
 
 "Is not your pistol cocked, Mr. Jones?" asked Charles, 
 seeing the reverend gentleman replacing the weapon in his 
 bi'«om. 
 
 " Bless my life ! But there was no danger, it being 
 empty." 
 
 "Empty!" reiterated Skippie. 
 
 "Yes, empty. Did I not just kill the turkey ? What's 
 this? No!" he continued, seeing the priming remained, 
 and inserting the ramrod. " I don't remember reloading 
 it. I am sure I did not. How can it be explained ?" 
 
 "I can explain it, Mr. Jones," said Charles. "I have 
 no doubt you would have struck the mark, but then you 
 might have spoiled the breast of the turkey; so I fired at 
 his neck, and killed him before you had time to complete 
 your aim. You thought the report came from your pistol, 
 and, on seeing the gobbler fall, it was natural to suppose 
 you had killed it." 
 
 " It must have been so ! Well, we shall have food, at 
 all events. The circumstan.ce reminds me of what occurred 
 to one of our Pennsylvania volunteers at Braddock's defeat. 
 Without observing that he had lost the flint from his gun, 
 he kept on pulling the trigger and ramming down cartridges. 
 Some of the men say he declared, as they retreated, that 
 his shoulder was black and blue from the rebounds. But 
 I don't believe that portion of the story." 
 
 As the shades of evening descended, the party encamped 
 near the bank of the Delaware, on a level piece of ground, 
 where a small rivulet flowed through a cleft in the hills 
 toward the river. Here the turkey was dressed and cooked 
 by Skippie, while Charles stretched and dried his panther- 
 Bkins. 
 
 At supper a most ravenous appetite seemed to have 
 seized upon them all, and the two youngest could not avoid 
 evincing some anxiety for the termination of Jones's 
 lengthy prayer. He not only invoked blessings on his 
 
 9 
 
98 WILD "RESTEliN fCEXES : 
 
 young companions, but desired they niiglit speedily return 
 to a Christian community. He asked that the savagea 
 might be converted and baptized; that they might be in- 
 spired -with a resolution never to shed the blood of their 
 "R'hite brethren who had settled in their forests ; and, finally, 
 that the counsels of the Continental Congress might have 
 the heavenly guidance, and the cause in which they were 
 embarked be gloriously triumphant. 
 
 And, after his emphatic " Amen," he arose and silently 
 gazed in every direction. He did not explain ; but Charles 
 attributed his conduct to the force of habit, knowing it to 
 be unsafe in many places to utter such patriotic petitions. 
 
 "Now, fall to, boys, and help yourselves," said Mr. 
 Jones, resuming his seat before the fire, and literally tear- 
 ing the smoking turkey in two by the drumsticks ; and in 
 the course of ten minutes all that remained of the gobbler 
 were his bones, his bill, and his toe-nails. 
 
 In the night, when the blazing fire made the scene cheer- 
 ful, and when all were in a comfortable condition after 
 their hearty meal, Mr. Jones would have given vent to his 
 grateful feelings in songs of praise, had it been deemed 
 prudent. If there should happen to be a war-party in the 
 vicinity, on a nocturnal march, — a thing neither probable 
 nor impossible, — they might be attracted thither; and so 
 the tuneful inclination was repressed. 
 
 But Mr. Jones felt no hesitation in relating his adven- 
 tures on the Ohio River the preceding year, when 
 acting in the capacity of a missionary among the \Yestern 
 tribes. He was relating a scene of burning at the stake, 
 a sentence sometimes executed on prisoners, — a proceeding 
 which Mr. Jones did not consider so barbarous as the burning 
 of Protestants in enlightened Old England or of Quakers 
 in puritanical New England, on account of their religious 
 belief, — when they were startled by the loud snorting of the 
 horse as he ran toward the camp. In the moonlight it 
 was perceivable that the faithful animal's ears were thrust 
 forward, as he turned his head over his back ; and his C3'es, 
 catching the rays of the fire, became illuminated like 
 globules of glass at a white heat. 
 
 The object causing the alarm was evidently between the 
 camp and the river ; and perhaps an enemy might bo 
 crouching behind the slight embankment, not twenty pacea 
 
SECOND SERIES. 99 
 
 distant, taking a deadly aim at the hitherto unconscious 
 travellers. 
 
 Charles turned liis face in the direction of the intruder, 
 so unerringly indicated by the horse, and gazed stead- 
 fastly, while Skippic prostrated himself and applied his ear 
 to the ground. 
 
 "As for my part," said Mr. Jones, taking from his 
 pocket a worn Testament, bound in black leather, or lea- 
 ther blackened by time, " here is my defence, and it never 
 failed me yet." So, turning over the leaves, he began to 
 read such passages as he deemed the most appropriate on 
 such an occasion. 
 
 "I see !" whispered Charles, raising his rifle noiselessly. 
 *'It is an Indian." 
 
 "One!" said Skippie, rising, and unsheathing his dirk. 
 
 "And we are three," said Mr. Jones, lifting his eyes 
 from the page, and placing one hand on his pistol ; " but 
 do not be the first to fire; he may be a friend." 
 
 " I am only in readiness," said Charles, endeavouring 
 to fix his aim. " If he raises his gun, then I will be 
 justified in pulling trigger." 
 
 But he did not raise his gun. On the contrary, his 
 head, scalp-lock and all, sank down and vanished behind 
 the slight embankment, and the next moment his voice was 
 heard, saying, in very good English — 
 
 " Don't shoot ! I'm a friend." 
 
 " What friend?" asked Mr. Jones, in his full, loud voice, 
 rendered strong by much preaching. " What nation, if 
 you are an Indian?" 
 
 " I'm a white man," said the stranger. 
 
 " He is, at least, in Indian costume, like myself," said 
 Chai'les. 
 
 " Yes, but I'm white, though," said the stranger, hear- 
 ing the last speech, and now approaching boldly. "And 
 you see I haven't got a gun. So there's no danger." 
 
 " Do you call yourself a white man, my friend?" asked 
 the preacher, staring like the rest at the curious aspect of 
 the stranger. He was one of those short fat men we 
 sometimes see who have no necks, their heads growing out 
 between their slioulders. He wore legginS; hunting-shirt. 
 and blanket; his head had been shaved, the scalp-lock 
 alone remaining; and his face, plump and round, with a 
 
100 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 scarce! j-Jiscernible point of a nose, had been fantastically 
 painted — one side being red, with sundry black spots inter- 
 spersed, and the other altogether black. 
 
 *' Yes; I'm a white man," said he, "like two of you; but 
 I've been living with the savages, and they painted me. I 
 thought once or twice when I stooped down to drink that 
 my face looked black. Is it very dark?" 
 
 "Black, my friend," said Mr. Jones, "on one side." 
 
 "I thought they were making sport of me!" 
 
 "Who are you? your name?" demanded Charles. 
 
 " I've a famous big name ! One of their greatest chiefs 
 is called Cornplanter, or Cornstalk — I disremember which ; 
 and so they called me Popcorn." 
 
 " What was your name before you lived among the In- 
 dians?" asked Mr. Jones, seeing Charles's diversion. 
 
 " Oh, I'm Peter Shaver, among the whites.' 
 
 "True!" said Charles. " I thought I knew your voice, 
 Peter; but they have so disguised you that your own 
 mother wouldn't recognise you. Here, look in this small 
 mirror." 
 
 Peter looked and stood aghast, Avhile the rest could not 
 refrain from hearty laughter. 
 
 " I'll take his sculp for it !" cried he. " I'll be revenged, 
 if I have to lose my life ! The "tarnationed, rascally savage ! 
 If I ever meet him — and I've a notion to go back — I'll have 
 his sculp or his scuip-lock ! And if I can't find him, I'll 
 give some other red devil a terrible thrashing !" 
 
 " Suppose you begin with me," said Charles. 
 
 "I don't care!" said the indignant Peter. "If these 
 gentlemen will see fair play, and you won't use any thing 
 but your fists " 
 
 " Stranger," said Mr. Jones, rising to his feet and 
 placing his hand on Popcorn's shoulder, "if you are a 
 friend, and come in peace, sit down and eat such as we 
 can spare you, or else depart. This is our camp, and you 
 are our guest ; but you will be thrust out if you do not 
 behave yourself. Know that Charles Cameron is no black- 
 guard, to fight with his fists like the degraded bullies of the 
 ring." 
 
 "Charles Cameron! It is, by jingo! Oh, I beg your 
 pardon a million times ! And you are no Indian, no more 
 noi mo! Don't you know me? — Peter Shaver?" 
 
SECOND SERIES. 101 
 
 " I know you very well, Peter, and have been merely 
 jesting when perhaps I should have been very serious. 
 Sit down and eat. You are too late for the turkey, but 
 the jerked beef may suffice. Eat and smoke, and then 
 tell us your adventures ; — why you left your employer's 
 service, and how you came to be dwelling among the 
 Indians." 
 
 Peter, having a most voracious appetite, as he had a 
 most capacious stomach, without further parley assailed 
 the viands set before him. 
 
 When he had finished his meal he related his story sub- 
 stantially as follows. On the day he set out from Mr. 
 Schooley's house to visit the mill he was seized by two In- 
 dians. They threatened to tomahawk him if he made any 
 resistance or attempted to escape. He was compelled to 
 dismount. One of them led the way on foot, while the 
 other followed on his iron-gray pony. When any one ap- 
 proached they plunged into the inaccessible recesses of the 
 forest, and remained silent and still until the way was 
 clear, and then ventured forth again, avoiding the most 
 frequented paths. Peter strove in vain to ascertain their 
 purpose. He could not learn to what nation his captors 
 belonged, nor why they had made him their prisoner. The 
 only name he could understand — which they pronounced 
 in the usual way — was Girty's; and he came to the con- 
 clusion that the noted leader of the British and Indian 
 borderers might have discovered some great merit in 
 him, or military qualification, which had superinduced his 
 arrest. 
 
 When encamped for the night, Peter was permitted to 
 recline before the fire in dignified silence, while the In- 
 dians prepared his food and filled his pipe, and manifested 
 other indications of a high appreciation of his importance- 
 
 The second day the journey was prosecuted with less 
 caution, and at night his two captors signified to Peter 
 that it was time for him to " be Indian too." So they 
 shaved all his hair off but the scalp-lock, painted his face 
 red, gave him a blanket, leggins, moccasins, &c. They 
 laughed, however, at the manner of his carriage or the 
 singularity of his attitudes, and seemed to make several 
 animated speeches on the subject. They then addressed 
 themselves to Peter, who, not understanding a word they 
 
102 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 had said, made no response, although they patientlj? 
 awaited one. Then they gave vent to explosions of laugli- 
 ter, and jabbered more, while their stoical captive snored 
 before the fire. 
 
 After several d&ys of moderate travel, during which thd 
 Indians seemed to be mindful of the comfort of their 
 captive, they arrived in the vicinity of Lake Cayuga, Here 
 they were met by many people of the Mohav.k and Oneida 
 tribes. But most conspicuous among them were two squaws, 
 one of middle age and the other quite young, and both, as 
 Peter declared, very beautiful, with the exception of their 
 pink skins. They came running toward him with their 
 arms extended ; and, Peter said, he also opened his. But 
 they stopped abruptly when within a few paces of him, 
 and, very impolitely turning up their noses, likewise turned 
 upon their heels and walked away. They hung down their 
 heads, as if ashamed of something, or disappointed in the 
 man they had sent for. 
 
 A few moments after, and while hundreds were standing 
 round, a chief stepped forward and made a fierce speech to 
 Peter's captors, who stood in silent shame. Then such 
 shouts were heard as never assailed his ears before. They 
 were shouts of laughter, loud and prolonged. After which 
 the chief, who had scolded his captors, approached Peter, 
 and informed him, in very good English, that the stupid 
 Minisinks had brought them the wrong man. But Peter's 
 joy on hearing this was dashed a little when told that he 
 had better return immediately, or the enraged Indians 
 might do him an injury. Peter's experience among the 
 Indians, however, had hitherto been so agreeable that he 
 could not be apprehensive of a change of treatment, and 
 so he wandered forward into the village in quest of some- 
 thing to eat. The eldest of the women Avhom he had seen 
 sent him victuals, with a message to depart. He lingered, 
 nevertheless, while occasional bursts of merriment still as- 
 sailed his ears. 
 
 Finall}'-, the chief seized him by the ear and led him out 
 of the village, pointing to where the pony had been left, 
 and shoving the indignant captive in that direction. But 
 Peter's pony had been taken, and in its place was a jackass 
 of similar color, but whose sides had been variegated by 
 the brush of a savage artist; and the sullen animal now 
 
SECOND SERIES. 103 
 
 resemoled the zebra, — a beast lie had once seen at a snow. 
 Tlioy told Peter his pony had been ''swapped" for the 
 jackass, and that lie must mount and ride away; and, 
 after a moment's reflection, and concluding; it might be <i 
 very good swap, and an acquisition in the Jenny Jump 
 gettlement, he leaped upon the beast. Then Popcorn, as 
 they called him, was cheered by the multitude ; and the 
 ass, either guided by the thong or frightened by the deafen- 
 ing; sounds, turned his head in a southeastern direction 
 and trotted off, braying so loudly that all other noises were 
 utterly obliterated. 
 
 " They had put some corn-cakes and dried meat in my 
 bag," said Peter, "and swapped for my corn as well as 
 my pony. But the consumed jackass kept trying to bite 
 me, and every now and then roared like a lion. It took 
 me two whole days to learn how to manage him. I found 
 out I could only do it by knocking him down with a club. 
 Then he was always gentle enough till next morning. But 
 I lost the right path, and travelled in several wrong ones. 
 And I can't tell how I got here at all, unless the jack came 
 of his own accord and was raised by the whites. And 
 now, gentlemen," continued he, "as I understand you are 
 going to come back soon from the Indian country, I would 
 be glad to travel with you, as I know I shall never find the 
 way home by myself, and I want to whip the Indian who 
 painted me." 
 
 "Not find the way home," said Mr. Jones, "when you 
 are on the bank of the Delaware River ! What better guide 
 would you have?" 
 
 "But I can't keep on it," said Peter; "and I don't 
 know which side I'm on." 
 
 "Not know which side you're on I Can't you see which 
 way the current runs?" 
 
 "Yes, I can see that." 
 
 "Well, when you stand with your face down-stream, 
 don't you know which hand the river is on ? — your right 
 or your left?" 
 
 "I'm terribly bewildered! I cannot tell, indeed, sir." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Not know your right hand from your left ?" 
 
 " But I'm left-handed, sir ! Or, rather, I use one hand aa 
 well as the other, and never could tell which was right ao'l 
 which was wronii;." 
 
104 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 "This is my right hand," said Mr. Jones, "next to your 
 left. You can remember that, can't you?" 
 
 "Yes, if you are always at hand to remind me." 
 
 The reverend gentleman could restrain his merriment 
 no longer; and even the taciturn Skippie could hardly avoid 
 giving vent to loud bursts of laughter. 
 
 Charles remained silent in troubled meditation. It was 
 not to be doubted that Peter had been captured by the 
 stupid messengers in the belief that it was himself. They 
 had evidently seen him ride away from the house of Mr. 
 S^ooley, and, being strangers to the person of. the one 
 they had been employed to seize, the mistake had been 
 committed. The kind treatment on the way, the assembling 
 of the tribe, — among whom he had many acquaintances, — 
 and the eagerness of the two women to meet him, who must 
 have been Gentle Moonlight and Brown Thrush, rendered 
 what was merely a conjecture as Peter proceeded with his 
 Story a certainty at its conclusion. 
 
 Without deciding whether Peter should accompany them 
 back into the Indian country or continue his solitary jour- 
 ney, preparations were made for sleeping, by enlarging the 
 shelter and widening the couch. But, before the eyes of 
 the party were closed, they were roused by the braying of 
 the ass at no great distance. The sounds of his voice 
 reverberated through the great valley of the Delaware, and 
 were re-echoed by every ledge of clifls. The wolves and 
 owls were silenced by the stupendous roar, far more hideous 
 than any uttered by themselves. 
 
 " He's in a grass-swamp about a half mile up the bank," 
 said Peter. " When I saw your fire, I didn't know but 
 you might be savages, and so I crawled here alone. If 
 you hadn't taken me in, I should have gone to bed without 
 my supper, as my provisions gave out yesterday. But I 
 made a pin-hook this morning, and caught two trouts. One 
 of 'em was a foot long, and made a good breakfast. I 
 had some salt left, but you know I couldn't eat that by 
 itself. And I had a knife abd flint, and struck a fire." 
 
 In this manner Peter's tongue ran on until the rest of 
 the travellers were slumbering soundly. 
 
 The next morning it was left optional with Peter whe 
 sher to return with the travellers to the Indian country or 
 to pursue his solitary way across the Blue Mountain to the 
 
SECOND SERIES. 105 
 
 white settlements. lie chose the former, repeating his 
 iletermination to -wliip the tAvo Minisink Indians who had 
 captured and painted him. 
 
 Nothing further worthy of special notice occurred until 
 the party arrived in the vicinity of the southern extremity 
 of Lake Cayuga. They were approaching the village 
 where the foster-mother of Chai-les often spent the summer, 
 and in the neighbourhood of which she held a large tract 
 of rich land inherited from her mother. 
 
 Charles paused, and, placing his hands over his mouth, 
 uttered the loud halloo he had so often sounded in his 
 youth when returning from distant expeditions with the 
 sons of the chiefs and sachems. Soon there was a reply 
 which produced an animated expression of pleasure on his 
 handsome features; and, as they drew nearer the village, 
 numbers of men were seen running toward them through 
 the beautiful grove in which the town was situated. 
 
 The foremost of those who came out to receive the 
 adopted son of Gentle Moonlight was Calvin, the young 
 Delaware chief who had been educated with Charles at 
 college. They embraced, and shed tears of joy, for they 
 had always been very intimate friends. 
 
 "They had concluded you would not come," said 
 Calvin, 
 
 " And then they sent the Minisinks to seize me : did they 
 not?" demanded Charles. 
 
 "I think so," said the other; "but they do not confess 
 it. Ha ! I see you have Popcorn with you !" 
 
 "Yes, I'm back agin," said Peter ; " and when I set eyes 
 on those nasty Minisinks there'll be a fight." 
 
 "Let me advise you to be peaceable," said the other. 
 " You may get into danger." 
 
 Peter, struck by his manner, remained silent. The 
 Rev. Mr. Jones was surrounded and welcomed by many 
 of his Indian acquaintances as they approached the town. 
 
 Very soon the news of the voluntary return of the 
 "White Eagle spread through the village ; and, when led by 
 his friends to one of the principal wigwams, he was clasped 
 in the arms of his foster-mother, who held him long in 
 silence, while the Brown Thrush, smiling and weeping 
 alternately, sang one of the wild songs Charles had so often 
 listened to with delight. 
 
l06 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 "My sister, ' said Charles, when released from the em 
 brace of his mother, and at the same time kissing her tear- 
 ful cheek, " thou hast not forgotten the words of thy 
 brother when we parted many moons ago. It is the song 
 you promised to sing when he returned. And didst thou 
 never forget thy brother?" 
 
 "How could I?" said she. "The ripples murmured in 
 the bright sunlight, as they did when we played together on 
 the margin of the merry brook, and the soft sound was 
 like the low voice of my brother. The bright stars danced 
 in gentle glimmers, as they had done when we wandered 
 together in the silent night. The fawn you gave me fol- 
 lowed my lonely steps and bleated for thee. The wild- 
 roses blossomed, and withered, and fell, because thou wert 
 away. And, oh, my brother, the Thrush was drooping 
 her head, and would have died, if thou hadst remained 
 with the Antelope ! And thou dost ask if I did not some- 
 times forget my brother ? How could I ?" 
 
 " Thou couldst not — nor I thee, my sister ! In my 
 dreams we met again in the solitude of the great forest, 
 where the birds sang in safety and no rude foot crushed 
 the violets. We sat beneath the lofty arch of the giant 
 trees, and the sparkling waters murmured their low melody 
 at our feet. Ha-wen-no-yu, the great Pather of all good 
 spirits, looked down from the blue sky and smiled upon us. 
 And he heard the prayer we uttered : — that, after age had 
 crept over us and we had closed our eyes upon the scenes 
 of this world, we might meet again in the great hunting- 
 grounds, and still wander together as loving sister and 
 brother." 
 
 "And what did he speak?" 
 
 " He seemed to smile upon my request." 
 
 " Then, oh, Kacha Manito, I praj thee bring age upon 
 us soon, so that we may close our eyes and depart for that 
 happy land ! My brother, thy sister too has dreamed, 
 '^he thought thou wert separated from her by a grea' 
 chasm, over which neither of us could pass. And when you 
 attempted to leap over, the Antelope ran before thee; and 
 when I strove to come to thee, she frowned and bade me 
 remain ; so there was no more happiness in this life, and 
 I prayed the good Kacha Manito to remove us both to that 
 happy land !" 
 
SECOND SERIES. 107 
 
 "But these were merely dreams, my sister, and we 
 sliould not be troubled by ihcm. You see I can come to 
 thee, and thou canst come to me. The Antelope will smile 
 when she beholds you, and beckon you over the chasm. 
 And thou must smile, too. The Thrush will love the An- 
 telope ; and soon, when I return to my father, both you 
 and my mother must go with me." 
 
 *'My son," said his foster-mother, after a short silence, 
 daring which the musing maiden made no reply, " the war- 
 riors of the nations are assembling at the Great Island, 
 between the broad lakes, (Ontario and Erie,) where the 
 council-fire is burning. From the shores of the salt water, 
 where the sun rises from the blue deep, to the rolling 
 prairies, where it sets, the chiefs are coming. They are 
 digging up their tomahawks and sharpening their arrows 
 for war. It was for this reason I sent thee word to come. 
 I longed to behold thee once more. And I desired that 
 thy voice might be heard in the council. Thou art my 
 representative, and they will listen to thy words. I will 
 go with thee, and the sweet Thrush shall sing the song of 
 peace on the way ; and, when we see the smoke of the 
 council-fire ascending, it may charm the ear of the fierce 
 Thayendanegea, thy brother and her brother. And then, 
 if the hatchet be buried again, we will go with thee to thy 
 white-haired father, and behold the beautiful eyes of the 
 Antelope." 
 
 "My mother," said Charles, "your words sound like 
 music in my ear, and I will obey thee." 
 
 Then, while a sumptuous repast was in preparation, 
 Charles regarded his Indian mother and sister in silent 
 admiration. They were fairer than most families of the 
 Iroquois, and, unlike the majority of them, had oval faces 
 and regular features of delicacy and beauty. 
 
 Bartholomew Calvin, the young Delaware chief, who 
 sat beside Charles, had lingered among the lakes much 
 longer than hud been anticipated ; and the Thrush was the 
 magnet which attracted him. Charles could not avoid 
 perceiving it, and- he knew not whether to be angry or 
 pleased with his friend for presuming to love his sister. 
 But there were no indications of his passion being recipro- 
 cated; and it was not to be supposed that either Gentle 
 Moonlight or the passionate Brandt would promote the 
 
108 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 alliance, unless the " Tamed Terrapin," as they called him, 
 or the degenerate son of the Algonquins, would throw away 
 his Christianity or his civilization and take up his abode 
 among them in the forest. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 NIAGARA — THE CAPTIVES — POPCORN — THE JOURNEY 
 WESTWARD. 
 
 The next day they set out for the Great Council-Fire, 
 between the broad lakes, where the earth was shaken by the 
 roar of mighty waters, and where Heno, the Spirit of 
 Thunder, sat in his majesty and hurled his bolts at the 
 enemies of heaven. 
 
 The cavalcade (all now being mounted) consisted of 
 some twenty warriors, with their sisters and mothers, — the 
 latter always having a voice in the ratification of treaties; 
 and it was understood that, as usual, the pale-faces would 
 strive to negotiate for more of their land. They had been 
 preceded the day before by a very large delegation of 
 Senecas, who were, with the exception of Red Jacket, 
 (whose father was a Cayuga) in favour of war — war against 
 the Colonies. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Jones gladly availed himself of this 
 opportunity of meeting the representatives of so many 
 tribes. And Peter Shaver, having not yet succeeded in 
 finding his enemies, vowed his purpose to look for them 
 around the Great Council-Fire, and to chastise them wher- 
 ever he might see them. The young Delaware chief, 
 melancholy and sighing, followed in silence. 
 
 As Peter endeavoured to urge his long-eared charger 
 forward, there was a very boisterous explosion of laughter. 
 Some of the boys had inserted pepper under the tongue of 
 the jackass, and as he trotted along he kept up for some 
 distance an incessant braying ; and while the boys yelled, 
 and the men uttered every conceivable sound and some 
 that were certainly inconceivable, poor Peter could only 
 gesticulate with his clenched fists and threaten vcrgrance. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 1'39 
 
 This amused his tormentors the more, even while they ad- 
 mitted "Popcorn," as they called him. -was a hrave man; 
 and he was no coward, as the sequel will show. 
 
 Our party were welcomed to the Great Council by 
 Brandt himself; and a vast number of Charles's old play 
 mates, now chiefs and warriors, crowded round him ana 
 renewed their professions of friendship and attachment. 
 
 But Charles perceived with regret the greater number 
 of white men mingling with the Indians were British 
 agents. Sir John Johnston, John Butler and his son 
 Walter, Girty, and McKee, as well as the implacable Queen 
 Esther, were there. 
 
 The chiefs were the first to speak. White Eyes, an 
 aged chief of the Western DelaAvares, had the precedence, 
 and he was in favour of peace and alliance with the Ame- 
 ricans ; but Captain Pipe, another chief of the same band, 
 declared for the British. 
 
 The Caugnawagas all spoke in favour of the British; 
 while, the only Cherokee who spoke at all took the oppo- 
 site side. The Shawnees were inclined to join the Colonies, 
 but could never do so, so long as the death of Cornstalk, a 
 great chief, and his son, Elenipsico, remained unavenged. 
 They had been killed in a Western fort because the Avhites 
 believed some of the Shawnees had murdered a Mr, Gil- 
 more. Mr. Gilmore had been shot and scalped by Elliot, 
 an English agent, for the purpose of producing such a 
 result. 
 
 The chiefs of the Five Nations permitted the chiefs of 
 jther tribes to be heard first, because they had come a 
 great distance to meet them there ; and when the repre- 
 sentatives of the various Western tribes had uttered their 
 sentiments, Thayendanegea rose and spoke in favour of 
 war — war against the Americans. He said, " States are 
 ungrateful, like men. The first pale-faces that landed on 
 our soil were poor, and we pitied them. We gave them 
 laud, and they grew rich. Then they despised us, and 
 sought our destruction. So with the Colonies. When they 
 were weak, and the people few in number, we were termed 
 the lords of this broad continent, and their humble peti- 
 tions were addressed to us. Now they consider themselves 
 ^he lords, and would drive us from our inheritance. Let 
 u.- coai^uer them or die. Death iu battle is preterable to 
 
 lU 
 
110 "WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 degradation in life. Such is my judgment. But we will 
 have the warriors of our great father over the broad water 
 to aid us, and we shall be victorious. If we do not embrace 
 this opportunity, we shall never have another. If we re- 
 main neutral, who will assist when the victor in the present 
 contest shall assail us? No matter which party is beaten, 
 the other will some day drive us from oui' fathers' graves. 
 Rather let us be buried in them !" 
 
 Charles was then permitted by the aged chiefs, as a 
 special act of courtesy, to follow his foster-brother. He 
 said he could not agree with his brother. The Americans 
 were not to be dreaded so much as the British. The op- 
 pression came from the government beyond the ocean ; 
 and, if they oppressed their own people, how could it be 
 supposed they would spare the Indians? He was in favour 
 of a strict neutrality, unless the Indians should be unani- 
 mously inclined to join the Colonies — a thing he did not 
 look for. 
 
 Sir John Johnston ridiculed the idea of permitting boys 
 to speak in council, but admitted that the mother of 
 Charles had a right to send him there. He controverted 
 what had been said with indignant warmth. 
 
 Simon Girty next spoke in behalf of the royal cause. 
 He made a very great impression by means of ingenious 
 falsehood. Professing to be quite conversant with the 
 purposes of the Americans, he announced that they in- 
 tended to exterminate the Indians as the shortest way to 
 possess their lands. And this declaration was substantiated 
 by McKee and Elliot, all renegade tories. 
 
 Red Jacket replied to Girty, and said he derived no 
 right from his mother to speak in the council, and espe- 
 cially to utter lies. He was in favour of neutrality. If 
 they participated in the war at all, many of their bre- 
 thren would fall. That was inevitable. And they would 
 be weakened. If they kept aloof, the victor, Avhether 
 America or England, would be weakened from losses and 
 weary from suffering, while the Indians would be strong 
 and more numerous than ever. That was their best 
 security. 
 
 Young Bald Eagle, of the Pottawatomies, called Red 
 Jacket a coward, — all words and no blows. 
 
 A Wyandot chief did the same. 
 
SECOND SERIES. Ill 
 
 A Mingo chief sustained the last two speakers, and 
 declared for war against the Americans. 
 
 A Shawnee chief said his nation was divided, one- 
 half agreeing with the Western Delawares to remain 
 neutral. 
 
 The Oneidas, influenced by the Rev. Samuel Kirkland, 
 who was present, announced their determination to remain 
 at peace with the Americans. 
 
 The British ofiicers then proposed to expel the mis- 
 sionaries from the council, and an intense excitement pre- 
 vailed. Many tomahawks, which had been concealed, were 
 brandished, and the utmost efforts of the sachems and 
 chiefs were required to prevent the white men from dese- 
 crating the council-house with blood. They arrived at no 
 other definite result than an agreement of those favourable 
 to the British to meet again at Oswego. 
 
 Then a general dispersion took place, and our party pre- 
 pared to return to the village they had set out from, near 
 the head-waters of the Susquehanna. 
 
 The friendly Shawnees, Delawares, Cherokees, and Onei- 
 das, were encamped on the same ground ; while the tribes 
 committed to the British cause kept aloof, and regarded 
 them with looks of anger and aversion. The two mis- 
 sionaries, and the foster-mother and sister of Charles, as 
 well as Charles himself and the redoubtable "Popcorn," 
 were in the midst of the former. 
 
 In the evening Brandt came alone to the tent of his 
 aunt, and sat down in gloomy silence between Charles and 
 his sister. 
 
 "Oh, my brother," said his sister, "do not go with 
 them to Oswego. Come with us to the peaceful vale where 
 the south winds are sighing sweetly through the quivering 
 leaves." 
 
 " No, sister," said he, sadly. " The war-whoop is heard 
 on the shores of the northern lake. The war-paths are 
 open. The tomahawks have been dug up. Thy red bro- 
 ther must lead the van of the battle. He must not kill his 
 white brother." 
 
 " No !" cried the Thrush. " He would not do it if ho 
 met him in battle!" 
 
 " But Thayendanegea's people might kill hira. The 
 VVhite Eaiile must remain with his brother." 
 
112 WILD AVESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "The White Eagle is free," said Charles, "and may soar 
 whithersoever he chooses." 
 
 "No!" said Brandt. 
 
 "What does my brother mean?" 
 
 " The White Eagle must not be pierced by the arro"ws 
 of his red brother. He must not, then, stand before the 
 bow. He must remain with his sister, among the women, 
 if he will not fight the American pale-faces. Then the 
 White Eagle must have some other name. He will no 
 longer be a chief. They will call him the Frightened 
 Hare !" 
 
 "Never!" said Charles. "I will lead my white people 
 against the British. Let my red brother keep from before 
 our rifles !" 
 
 " The Thrush will go with the White Eagle," said the 
 maiden, " and sing him to sleep, so that he shall not harm 
 his red brother." 
 
 " The Brown Thrush must go with Thayendanegea," said 
 the chief. 
 
 " No !" said his aunt, speaking for the first time, 
 although she had been an attentive listener. "My sister's 
 daughter now has no mother but me. My sister is dead. 
 My sister's son, listen to my command. The Thrush shall 
 not go with you." 
 
 " My mother's sister, my ears are open. What you 
 have said has entered them, and you must be obeyed." 
 
 " My sister's son," she continued, with deliberation, "the 
 Brown Thrush shall go with the White Eagle." 
 
 " You command it. It must be so. But whither will 
 they go? You cannot command the three thousand war- 
 riors whose chiefs have decided that my white brother 
 shall not return to the pale-faces until the war is ended." 
 
 "False, treacherous, perfidious Thayendanegea!" said 
 Charles. "And this is the cowardly work of the one I 
 have loved and trusted ! No more my brother ! Hence- 
 forth we are foes!" 
 
 " My brother, do not make my blood boil over. Another 
 had died ere the speech were finished. Thayendanegea did 
 nothing. He knew it not until the chiefs had decided. 
 He did not approve it, but he could not oppose it. He 
 loves his brother still. He waits to hear his brother's 
 next words." 
 
SECONn SERIES. 113 
 
 "Forgive me, my brother!" said Charles, with tears in 
 his eyes. "I ask my brother's pardon." 
 
 " It was the Malcha Manito, and not my brother. But 
 what can my brother do? The warriors surrounding him, 
 who will not declare war against his white brothers, will 
 not oppose the decree of the chiefs. They are net ready 
 to fight their red brothers." 
 
 " I will escape. You know the White Eagle can soar 
 above his enemies." 
 
 "But whither will he direct his flight? He will not find 
 the Antelope in the peaceful vale." 
 
 "My brother speaks no fables," said Charles, pale, and 
 deeply moved. 
 
 " No. Thayendanegea cannot say what is not true. 
 His brother's white sister has been, ere this, conveyed 
 away. It was the decree of the chiefs, solicited by the 
 Queen of the Senecas ; but she cannot be injured. You 
 are unhappy?" 
 
 "Oh," cried the Indian maiden, "let her be brought 
 hither, or go where we go, and I will kiss away her tears 
 and sing her to sleep!" 
 
 "Sister's son," said the aunt, "let it bo so." 
 
 "It will be so," he replied. "Such is the purpose of 
 the one who decided every thing, and whose decision was 
 merely ratified by the chiefs." 
 
 "And that was old Esther," said Charles. 
 
 "Queen Esther," said Brandt. 
 
 "My brother," said the Delaware chief, Calvin, who had 
 hitherto remained a silent listener, addressing Charles, " I 
 will remain with you, or we will go together, whithersoever 
 the great Ha-wen-no-yu, or our Holy Father, may direct 
 our steps." 
 
 " Farewell !" said Brandt, rising. " The maple-leaf is 
 red. It has been painted by the first frosts. Ere it falls 
 we may meet again. Our lodges must be replenished with 
 meat, and our women must gather the corn. And before 
 the war-trail winds toward the sea we may hunt the buffalo 
 in the West." 
 
 And he was gone before his mother's sister could inter- 
 rogate him further. And not many minutes afterward the 
 approach of Queen Esther was announced by fife and 
 dj'um, which had been presented her by the British. 
 
 10* 
 
114 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 Queen Esther, or Catharine Montour, decked in guady 
 habiliments, entered, and sat in their midst, upon a large 
 scarlet robe spread for her by one of the attendants. 
 
 This woman — who had acquired an ahnost despotic influ- 
 ence over the Senecas, the most powerful of the Six Na- 
 tions, by her incantations and superior intellect — was her 
 self a white woman, or the daughter of the half-Indian 
 wife of one of the noble French governors of Canada — 
 Frontenac, it has been said. She had been stolen by the. 
 Indians when an infant, and raised among them. She 
 married a chief, and never could be induced to return to 
 her white kindred. 
 
 She was now in the eightieth year of her age, and her 
 face was but a concentration of wrinkles, although she had 
 once been handsome and accomplished. 
 
 "'Ha, Gentle Moonlight," said she, with a sardonic 
 smile, " there is a cloud upon thy face ! Oh, yes ! I did 
 it; it was me. War, war to the hilt! My work. Blood 
 must flow. Brandt shall be the Grand Sachem at Oswego. 
 He shall be king ; but he shall be the head-warrior, too. 
 And why don't you command this young Eagle to marry 
 the poor Thrush? and then we would make him a great 
 prince. Oh that he was a Seneca ! I would order him 
 to marry; and no one disobeys me. What! dost frown 
 at me? Tut, boy! But you won't escape. I have too 
 wise a head for that. You will not leave your darling 
 Antelope? Oh, no ! Well, then, you shan't. She will 
 come to you. That was Queen Esther's wit! Adieu! 
 Go peaceably and submissively to the West, on the Scioto, 
 or cross over to the 'Dark and Bloody Ground,' as some 
 call it, — but it is neutral now, — and hunt the deer and 
 buffak But do not destroy the Antelope!" 
 
 Without permitting any one to reply, she arose and de- 
 parted, preceded by her martial music. 
 
 Shortly afterward, Charles was roused from his abstrac- 
 tion by the quiet entrance of Skippie, who stood before 
 him and said — 
 
 " Going !" 
 
 "Going, Skippie r" 
 
 "I." 
 
 " I understand. Tell my father " 
 
 "All. Know all." 
 
POrCOBN'S PIOIIT WITH THE INDUN.— P.XI4 
 
SECOND SERIES. 11£ 
 
 And before Charles could utter another word Skippie 
 was gone. 
 
 Shortly after this, Charles was again startled by a tre- 
 mendous uproar among the boys. It appeared that, in imi- 
 tation of their fathers, they had been holding a council. 
 They had their interpreter, who rendered every thing in 
 plain English to Peter Shaver, who was present. Very 
 8oon Peter was informed that he had been elected king. 
 And, upon desii'ing to know where his subjects were to 
 be found, they informed him he should be ruler over all 
 the Capitanasses. There had been a tribe of that name 
 in Jersey, although Peter was not aware of it. Peter, 
 therefore, supposing he had been made the laughing-stock 
 of the boys, being called King of the Capitanasses be- 
 cause he rode an ass, indignantly withdrew. They fol- 
 lowed, whooping and crying, " Popcorn, King of the 
 Capitanasses!" The men laughed heartily as Peter strode 
 over the ground toward the camp of Gentle Moonlight. 
 And, as he approached, he espied the Minisink Indian who 
 had put the dark stains on his face, and which no process 
 of washing and rubbing he could employ had yet removed. 
 Finding the Indian merry at his expense, he threw aside 
 his blanket and charged upon him with his fists. Now, 
 although Peter was short and fat, and rather short-winded, 
 he was somewhat scientific in the use of his fists. A ring 
 was instantly formed around the combatants, with shouts 
 and cries of merriment. The Minisink strove in vain to 
 get the "Indian hug" on Peter. Peter planted his blows 
 with such precision and rapidity that his adversary was 
 forced back, and, as he retreated, dodging from one side to 
 another, Peter was applauded by the spectators. Finally, 
 Peter succeeded in planting a blow on the stomach of the 
 Indian, which laid him on the ground, and then the victor 
 would have been content to drop the quarrel. Not so the 
 Indian. Incensed and suffering, he drew his knife and 
 made several desperate lunges, which were warded off with 
 difficulty. The spectators interfered, and disarmed the 
 Indian, who threatened to be revenged on some future occa- 
 sion, while the boys conducted their new chief and cham- 
 pion in triumph to his tent. 
 
 But the bruised Minisink soon found sympathizers ; and 
 as the British agents, under the guise of peddlers, had dis- 
 
116 WILD WESTERN SCEiS^ES : 
 
 tributed no small quantity of rum among the men, there 
 soon arose a cry for the scalps of the American pale-faces. 
 When this reached the ears of the foster-mother of Charles, 
 she had her tent removed to a place of greater security, 
 where it was surrounded and guarded by a number of De- 
 laware warriors ; and early in the morning our party set 
 out, in a southern direction, toward the head-waters of the 
 Alleghany. 
 
 Gentle Moonlight, Brown Thrush, Chaides, the young 
 Delaware chief, the Rev. David Jones, and Peter, formed 
 the party. Although a prisoner, Charles was permitted to 
 retain his arms, having given his word that he would not 
 attempt an escape for the space of seven days. This he 
 did the more readily, as he knew it would require that 
 length of time to convey Julia to the place in the West 
 designated by Queen Esther, and where he hoped to be 
 permitted to see her. 
 
 Although our party were granted the privilege of encamp- 
 ing as often as they pleased on the route, to make long or 
 short marches as might suit the convenience of the sister 
 of the mother of Brandt, yet it was soon apparent that 
 they were followed and observed by seven of the guards of 
 Queen Esther, whose duty it was to prevent any communi- 
 cation with the settlements of the white people. But they 
 were also preceded by seven Oneida warriors friendly to 
 the American cause. These warriors shot an abundance 
 of game, as they proceeded, for the use of the travellers. 
 
 The weather was fine, and the journey, although easy and 
 pleasant, (for the foster-mother of Charles was rich, and 
 had been lavish in expenditure when providing for the com- 
 fort of her children,) was devoid of special incident until 
 the party crossed the dividing-line between New York and 
 Pennsylvania. Here they rested while canoes were sought 
 in which to descend the Alleghany River ; and here they 
 were informed by a runner of the approach of Julia, 
 guarded by two Mingo chiefs, who could speak the English 
 language, and who had been charged, as the runner assured 
 Charles, to provide for all her wants, and to prevent her 
 from suffering the slightest bodily inconvenience on the 
 \ourney. Runners likewise came from Oswego, confirming 
 the rumour that Brandt had been made grand-sachem of the 
 Five Nations. It was also understood that the Indians 
 
SECOND SERIES. 117 
 
 wouW not go upon the war-path until the next spring ; and 
 in the mean time they were to disperse in hunting-parties, 
 and secure a large supply of buffalo-meat. 
 
 The camp of the travellers, or captives, (for it appeared 
 they were still subject to the direction of Queen Esther,) 
 was situated in one of the wildest, and at the same time one 
 of the most lovely and romantic, spots in nature. It was 
 on a small delta of the Alleghany. The bright water 
 flowed at their feet on the south, and upon its surface the 
 golden beams of the sun danced in ever- varying splendour. 
 Behind, they were defended from the chilling winds of the 
 north by a high mountain, whose sides were clothed with 
 evergreens. 
 
 The camp was sheltered from the dews and the noon- 
 day sun by a grove of sugar-maples, upon Avhose boughs, 
 ever and anon, rested myriads of wild-pigeons, pausing in 
 their migratory flight. Charles and Bartholomew Calvin 
 explored the mountains and streams in the vicinity, and 
 admired the bold features of the country. And it was 
 during one of these excursions with gun and angling-rod, 
 that Calvin confessed — what Charles had already suspected 
 — his passion for the sister of Brandt ; and at the same time 
 expressed the sad conviction — which was evident to all — 
 that the Thrush was deeply, blindly in love with the Eagle. 
 Charles said every thing in his power to encourage and com- 
 fort his friend, assuring him that, whatever might be his 
 affection for his foster-sister, or her attachment to him, 
 they could never be united. 
 
 And the poor Thrush and her aunt devoted themselves 
 to the generous task of providing for the comfort of the 
 captive maiden, whose arrival was now daily looked for. 
 She was the Antelope, loved by Charles, whom they loved, 
 and therefore they must love her too. The jealousy and 
 hatred that might have poisoned more civilized women 
 under similar circumstances found no place in their bo- 
 soms. It is true, according to their code of morals, a chief 
 might have more than one wife; but they were not ignorant 
 that Charles, during the process of his education, had 
 adopted the Christian faith, and would be governed by the 
 laws of the race from which he was descended. And, like- 
 wise, Mr. Jones had made some progress in their own con- 
 version to Christianity. Nevertheless, the devoted Thrush 
 
'113 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 sang joyously as she prepared soft furs and fashioned robes 
 of fine cloth and hoods and moccasins for the Antelope. 
 
 It was while thus engaged in the deep solitude of the 
 silent grove that Charles once encountered her. He had 
 left Calvin and Peter fishing up the stream, near the camp 
 of the seven guards of Queen Esther. 
 
 "My sister," said he, sitting down at her side on the 
 bleached trunk of a fallen tree, then checkered by the 
 straggling rays of the morning sun, "you will be kind to 
 your white sister, will you not?" 
 
 " My brother loves his white sister. I love my brother." 
 
 "But will the Thrush always love the Antelope when 
 she sees her brother gather the sweetest flowers for her 
 nosegays?" 
 
 " Why not ? Cannot my brother love us both ? And 
 why should we not love one another ?" 
 
 " I fear, my poor sister, that you are incapable of com- 
 prehending me." 
 
 " Oh, never fear. My brother Thayendanegea used to 
 say the AVhite Eagle would forget his wild Thrush and 
 remain away. But it was not so. I did not believe it. 
 And did he not return ? He used to tell her, also, that her 
 white brother would love his white Antelope and forsake 
 the Thrush. I did not believe that either. He was mis- 
 taken in the one, and will be in the other." 
 
 "But, my sister, suppose it had been as Brandt said?" 
 
 " The Thrush would still have sung. She would never 
 have blamed and hated the Eagle. But it would have been 
 a mournful song, — her own death-song. She would have 
 folded her wings and died." 
 
 " Do you not know, my sister, that among the whites 
 it is unlawful for a man to love two maidens at the same 
 time V 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Mr. Jones has told me. That is among courts 
 and cities, and where the country is torn by the iron 
 ploughs. I do not doubt it. But we will not go thither. 
 The Antelope will remain with us in the warm sunlight, 
 near the edge of the bviglit, leaping waters at the foot of 
 the mountain. She will see the antlered buck followed by 
 two docs, and the birds of fairest plumage attended by two 
 mates. She will forget the white people and their cruej 
 customs." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 119 
 
 Charles despaired of convincing her of the superiority 
 of the customs of the white people; and, after a protracted 
 silence on his part, while the Indian maiden resumed her 
 song and plied her delicate fingers in the fabrication of an 
 exquisitely-ornamented pair of moccasins for Julia, he re- 
 sumed: — 
 
 " Eut, my sister, hast thou not seen that thy brother's 
 friend, the young Delaware chief, was fascinated by the 
 song of the Thrush?" 
 
 ' He would not wrong his friend. He would rathei 
 perish.' 
 
 " I know it. But I would not have him die. I love him 
 too. We were brothers at the college." 
 
 " And did he not hear thee speak of me ? Did he not 
 know thy sister loved thee? Let him return to his people 
 in the East, or wed among the Delawares of the West. The 
 Brown Thrush knows her mate !" 
 
 "My sister," continued Charles, "I say these things to 
 thee that thou raayest be prepared for the events of the 
 future. Once I loved thee only, and I love thee yet. But 
 I could not avoid loving the Antelope of my own race, 
 when she was so kind to me. What thy brother says is 
 the truth. A Christian is not allowed to have two wives. 
 And the Antelope is a Christian. Her husband must have 
 but one wife !" 
 
 " Be it so !" said the maiden, lifting her confiding eyes 
 to those of the young man. " We will not marry. We 
 will build no nests. The Antelope and the Thrush will 
 only love and charm the White Eagle. And when we go 
 to the great hunting-grounds together, Ha-wen-no-yu may 
 not have such bad laws as the white men." 
 
 Charles, half amused and half vexed at the argument 
 and devotion of the child of nature, ceased the discussion. 
 He was startled, however, soon after, by the arrival of 
 Peter Shaver, bearing in his arms a very young bear-cub, 
 which kept up a piteous crying for its dam. 
 
 The Indian maiden leaped up in terror, and asked if the 
 dam had been killed ; but Peter, not understanding her 
 language, only offered her the " pretty pet," as he called 
 it. Then, in reply to the same question from Charles, he 
 said he had not seen the dam. 
 
 The Indian girl, upon learning that the dam had not 
 
l20 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 been destroyed, gathered up her work and fled toward the 
 camp, not doubting the men would soon have to use their 
 rifles. 
 
 •'Yonder she comes now!" said Peter, as he beheld the 
 infuriated animal plunging down the side of the mountain, 
 attracted by the cries of her ofi'spring. 
 
 "Stop the cub's cries, Peter," said Charles, "or else 
 you may feel the weight of the mother's claws before we 
 can kill her." 
 
 "It wont stop!" said Peter. "And if I shoot it, its 
 mamma may catch me with an empty gun ! I'll let it go !" 
 he continued, and instantly threw it down. But, instead 
 of running away, the cub followed Peter as he retreated 
 behind the fallen trunk. " Oh, what shall I do ?" cried 
 he, now stricken with terror; for the creature would not 
 leave him, and the dam was coming with fearful strides. 
 
 "Climb a tree," said Charles, amused at the efforts of 
 Peter to shake off" the cub, "or else kill it." 
 
 "Oh!" cried Peter, "he's biting my hand ! Help me, 
 Mr. Cameron !" And as the poor man glared fearfully at 
 the old bear, now within fifty paces of him, his knees trem- 
 bled so violently he was unable to climb the tree he ran to. 
 But the Delaware youth, who had followed to see the re- 
 sult of the experiment, and Charles, who did not relish a 
 closer proximity to the old bear, fired their rifles nearly at 
 the same moment, from opposite sides, and both with eft'ect. 
 Nevertheless, she was not killed, though mortally wounded, 
 and rolled and ran together to the foot of the tree behind 
 which Peter Shaver was endeavouring to conceal himself; 
 and there she fell, but not before striking one blow at 
 Peter, which merely caught the skirt of his buckskin coat 
 as he fled round the trunk. He was held fast, however, 
 though the bear was dead, her teeth being desperately 
 sunk in a root of the tree, upon which Peter's cap had 
 fallen. Peter continued to make violent struggles to extri- 
 cate himself, and still called lustily for help. 
 
 " Why don't you turn and fight, Peter?" asked Charles, 
 advancing carelessly. 
 
 " Shoot, Popcorn !" said Calvin. 
 
 " Oh ! he'll tear me all to pieces ! I've lost my gun !" 
 cried Peter, who had dropped his rifle when the bear sprang 
 toward him. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 121 
 
 "Take your tomahawk or knife," continued Charles, 
 seeing the bear was quite dead. One arm chisped her cub, 
 ■while the other nailed Peter's hunting-shirt to the tree. 
 
 " I can't ! I tremble so !" said Peter; "kill him, if you 
 please !" 
 
 "No," said Charles; " you must distinguish yourself be- 
 fore you can become a great Indian. If we were to dis- 
 patch the* bear, the Indians would call you a woman." 
 
 "Dad burn the Indians and the women," cried Peter, 
 " when a savage bear has hold of my shirt-tail ! Get out 
 of the way, if you won't help me !" and, extricating him- 
 self by a violent effort, he sank Ids tomahawk in Bruin's 
 head. 
 
 " That finished her !" said Calvin. 
 
 " You have conquered," said Charles. 
 
 "You dealt such a deadly blow," continued Calvin, 
 "that siie never moved afterward." 
 
 Just then Peter's ass, which was browsing near, began 
 to bray. 
 
 " Your steed, even, is cheering you, Peter. Well done, 
 great Popcorn !" added Charles. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Peter, who soon began to suspect 
 they were quizzing him, of all offences the most unpardon- 
 able, " I guess you're not in earnest, for I believe the bear 
 was dead before I struck her. But I don't like to be made 
 sport of. If you doubt my courage, just strip and let us 
 fight it out!" 
 
 But this was not agreed to. Boxing was not one of 
 their accomplishments ; and they declined the honour, as- 
 suring Peter they did not doubt his superiority in the mode 
 of combat proposed. 
 
 The braying of the ass was caused by the smell of the 
 blood of the bear. Charles had been informed by the In- 
 dian who had made the exchange with Peter, that it was 
 his startling brayhig, whenever he got the scent of blood, 
 which rendered it necessary to part with him. 
 
 11 
 
122 WILD WESTEKX SCENES; 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ENCAMPMENT ON THE ALLEGHANY — ARRIVAL OF JULIA— 
 THE WARWHOOP — QUEEN ESTHER. 
 
 At the first wail of the whippoor-will perched on the 
 trunk of the fallen tree where the Indian maiden sang in 
 the daytime, and just when the last glimmer of twilight 
 was succeeded by the silvery rays of the rising moon, our 
 temporary sojourners at the foot of the mountain were 
 startled by the hailing halloo of an Indian, which they im- 
 mediately understood to be the announcement of the ap- 
 proach of Julia, the captive maiden. 
 
 The only direction by which horses could approach the 
 small area in the midst of which stood the encampment 
 was by following the course of the river, along the right 
 bank of which was an old Indian path. Up this path 
 Charles and the Indian maiden ran, hand-in-hand, to meet 
 the captive; and when they turned an acute point of one 
 of the ridges, round which wound the path, meandering 
 with the stream, they beheld the object of their solicitude. 
 Rushing forward, Charles clasped his affianced in his arms, 
 and, when relinquished by him, she was as heartily em- 
 braced by the Indian maiden. 
 
 Silence prevailed for many moments, during which their 
 tears could not be restrained. But their throbbing hearts 
 were relieved. 
 
 "Oh, Julia," said Charles, "I did not think, when we 
 parted, we should meet again in such a place as this ! I, 
 too, am a prisoner. They detained me in hopes I would 
 unite with them in the war against the Colonists. And they 
 brought thee hither to remove one of the motives I might 
 have to escape. I fear you have suffered very much !" 
 
 "Indeed, I have not!" replied Julia, with a slight smile 
 and a blush. " It has been like a dream — a repetition in 
 my slumbers of some of the fireside stories I have listened 
 to of long winter evenings. The two chiefs Avho captured 
 me could speak our language very well, and provided every 
 
SECOND SERIES. 125 
 
 Co jvenienc«> for me in their power. Their first care was to 
 assure me I should sustain no injury; their next, that 1 
 should meet with thee. After that, all was pleasing novelty 
 and romantic adventure.'" 
 
 " Her voice is like the warbling of the robin or the 
 sound of dancing waters," said the Indian girl; and Charles 
 rendered it into English. 
 
 "How beautiful !" said Julia, gazing at the face of the 
 child of the forest. 
 
 *' Let us now hasten to the tent of my Indian mother," 
 said Charles, leading the way. "But who is that?" he 
 continued, seeing a white man following, the two chiefs 
 having halted with Queen Esther's guard. 
 
 " That is our gardener, Paddy Pence," said Julia. "You 
 may come now, Paddy," she continued. 
 
 Paddy ran forward and prostrated himself before Charles, 
 whom he had not recognised; for Julia, with maiden mo- 
 desty, not wishing him to hear that which might be uttered 
 on her meeting with her lover, had directed him to remain 
 some distance behind. 
 
 "Oh, Misther Indian chafe," cried he, "if you have kilt 
 Mr. Charles, do plase send me and Miss Julia back to the 
 Jenny Jump, and Mr. Schooley will pay you a thousand 
 pounds ; I know he will, for he said he would !" 
 
 " When did he say that, Paddy?" asked Julia. 
 
 " I mane I know he would naturally say sich a thing 
 afther he found out we had both been captivated !" 
 
 "Paddy!" said Charles. 
 
 " You know me name, Misther Indian ; and I hope you 
 don't mane to take the sculp of a frind." 
 
 "Paddy, don't you know me?" 
 
 "Are you one of the great and noble and ginerous chafes 
 who used to ate and smoke at Misther Schooley's table ? I 
 thought I knew yer voice. And do you know I always 
 thought you the handsomest one of them all?" 
 
 "Be done, now, Paddy; none of your nonsense, or by 
 the patron saint of all the Paddies of ould Ireland " 
 
 " Wha ! I know you now, Mr. Charles, by your poor 
 brogue!" cried Paddy, leaping up. "And, as sure as the 
 moon is shining over us, I had forgotten youi- hunting- 
 ehirt, and leggins, and breech-clout, on the day you left 
 
124 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 US. x\nd here I've been mistaking you for one of tliem 
 blackguard savages !" 
 
 "Paddy," said Julia, as they moved slowly toward the 
 fire at the hut, "you must not abuse the Indians. If 
 Charles is not one, this lady is." 
 
 "I beg yer pardon, miss," said he, addressing the 
 Thrush ; " it was only an Irish slape o' the tongue." 
 
 After interpreting the speech, Charles informed Paddy 
 that the Indian lady did not understand English. 
 
 " Then, be the powers," said Paddy, "she wouldn't be 
 likely to sculp me for me Irish." 
 
 They were met at the threshhold of the encampment by 
 the foster-mother of Charles, who tenderly folded Julia in 
 her arms, and placed her on the seat of furs which had 
 been provided for her. She gazed long in admiration of 
 the features and form of the white maiden ; and then, turn- 
 ing to Charles, said she was very lovely, but that he must 
 not permit her to estrange him from his forest sister. 
 
 Every delicacy the camp afforded was produced for the 
 captives; and Paddy had just a sufficient recollection of his 
 position and his duty to forbear the gratification of his 
 ravenous appetite until his mistress bade him eat. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Jones, who had been making the woods 
 vocal with his spiritual songs, came in and shared the 
 smiles of Julia, Calvin, too, paid his devoirs in his usual 
 melancholy way 
 
 " Murther !" said Paddy, at the end of his repast, when, 
 lifting up his eyes, he saw, standing before him, a toma- 
 hawk in one hand and a scalping-knife in the other, the 
 redoubtable rotundity of the chief of the Capitanasses, 
 — Popcorn. 
 
 " I hope you couldn't be so cruel, Mr. Indian, as to 
 8<ihrike a man wid a full stomach, and when he's in sich a 
 good humour that he wouldn't bate the worst inemy in the 
 world." 
 
 "Paddy!" said Peter Shaver, hardly able to maintain 
 his composure, although still conscious of the presence of 
 the dark blotches painted on his face by the Minisink 
 artist. 
 
 "Paddy!" iterated the gardener. "The divil take me 
 
 if me name isn't pat in the mouths of all the black 
 
 Misther Charles, can this chafe understand English ?" 
 
SECOND SERIES. 125 
 
 "Perfectly; and Irish too," said Cliarles. 
 
 "I inane," continued Faddy, ''in the mouths of all the 
 picturesquely-painted chafes of the magnificent natural 
 forests and mossy strames and gliding rocks." 
 
 "Paddj'- Pence," continued Peter, approaching a step 
 nearer, "don't you know me ?" 
 
 "No doubt of it, yer noble honour; but I can't jist call 
 yer name at prisent, though it was on the ind of me tongue 
 a minute since. You came to Misther Schooley's wid the 
 rest of the tall majestic chafes and " 
 
 " Paddy Pence," said the other, " you are the first man 
 who ever called Peter Shaver tall and majestic, and I thank 
 you for it." 
 
 "Peter Shaver? What! Peter Shaver, our little pot- 
 bellied overseer ? It is ! Och, forgive me, St. Pater ! Why, 
 you nasty little blackguard, to come wid your disguises 
 and impose yerself on gintlemen as a natural chafe of these 
 eternal wildernesses ! Begone, ye spalpeen, and larn 
 betther manners !" 
 
 " Come ! Foller me, and I'll teach you better manners, 
 you Irish cur, you !" said Peter, rolling up his sleeves, and 
 stepping out under the spreading maples. 
 
 "I won't fight ye," said Paddy, "wid sich savage in- 
 struments as them," gazing at the tomahawk and knife. 
 "But find a good hickory cudgel, and I'll soon paint yer 
 bald head the original colour of yer hair." 
 
 Charles and Mr. Jones intei'posed, and after a few words 
 of peace and explanation the two old acquaintances became 
 reconciled, and sat by the fire the remainder of the evening 
 relating their marvellous adventures. 
 
 And Julia, declaring she felt no fatigue, as her progress 
 through the wilderness had been by easy though tortuous 
 marches, readily consented to narrate the manner of her 
 capture. 
 
 "Every afternoon," said she, "since the forest-leaves 
 have been variegated by the early frosts, it has been my 
 habit to ride over the grounds we used to visit together. It 
 was not considered prudent to walk alone in the paths, for 
 a number of large rattlesnakes had been seen by Mr, Green 
 every year at that season, seeking, as he says, their dens 
 in the rocks where they pass the winter. Nor would my 
 guardian permit me to go unattended. Richard, you know, 
 
 11* 
 
126 WILi) WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 could not spare the time to accompany me. And so Paddj 
 armed with the French fowling-piece given to Mr. Schooley 
 by Governor Franklin, followed my steps, and kept my 
 erratic person in view, as much as I saw proper to permit 
 him. But my chief reliance was on Solo, my poor, faithful 
 companion. 
 
 " It was upon the gentle slope where Richard, you know, 
 had girdled the noble forest-trees for the purpose of enclos- 
 ing another field, that I paused and listened to the dirge- 
 like sound of the breeze as it murmured through tlie bouiihs 
 of the stricken oaks. And I sang a mournful ditty, — the 
 requiem you composed for the night of the conflagration 
 of the grove devoted to destruction by the civilized Van- 
 dals. Leaning on my elbow, — no doubt the picture of de- 
 jection, — and my sympathetic palfrey as motionless as a 
 monument, I was startled by the sudden cry of poor Solo; 
 and, turning, I saw him rolling in agony on the ground, 
 transfixed by an ai'row which had passed through the points 
 of his shoulders. Paddy came running toward me with 
 great swiftness, but when he saw the arrow he fired his 
 gun at random, and, without pausing to recharge it, threw 
 it down and took to his heels. But he was instantly con- 
 fronted in the path by one o^ the Mingo chiefs, who laughed 
 very heartily at his panic-stricken face. He seized him 
 and bound liis hands. 
 
 " The other chief arose from the tall grass near my 
 horse, and, taking the reins in his hand, assured me, in very 
 good English, that it was not their intention to injure either 
 of us, although we must submit to be their prisoners and 
 promise not to utter any cries. He said he was employed 
 to convey me to the West, where I would meet the White 
 Eagle. That assurance, Charles, bereft me of half my 
 terrors. And yet a painful thought flashed through my 
 
 mind " 
 
 That I had, perhaps, resolved to become an Indian 
 again, and might be violently tearing thee away from thy 
 home," said Charles, smiling. 
 
 " Something of that nature, I admit," said Julia ; " but it 
 flitted away like the gleam of the lightning, and the Mingo 
 assured me you knew nothing of bis proceeding. The ob- 
 ject of his employer Avas to prevent you from returning and 
 bearing arms against your red brethren. Then I sigu'fiod 
 
tSR CAPrniE OF JULIA AND PADDY BY THE MINGO CHIEFS — 
 
 r. 126 
 
SECOND SERIES. 121 
 
 ray readiness to accompany them, if they would also take 
 my poor wounded Solo. This they could not agree to. 
 But they assured me his wound would not prove fatal, 
 though it had been their intention to kill him. They said 
 the report of Paddy's gun would soon attract the people 
 thitncr, and the dog would be taken care of. And so they 
 hastened us away to the old sycamore, where their horses 
 weie concealed. Paddy was made to get up behind one of 
 the chief's, and then we plunged into hidden paths, whose 
 existence I had no knowledge of before, and rode, I sup- 
 pose, many miles without halting. They spread a shelter 
 toward morning in a deep valley, and wrapped me in furs, 
 so tnat neither the chill of the night-wind nor the dew of 
 the leaves could reach me. I could not eat the food they 
 offered; but I recollect seeing Paddy's jaws in motion. 1 
 fell asleep and dreamed of thee, Charles, and the Indian 
 maiden, and a scene like this. 
 
 " When daylight appeared, we resumed the journey. 
 Supposing they might be pursued, our captors frequently 
 deviated from the usual paths, for the purpose of misleading 
 those Avho might attempt to follow us. 
 
 " After the second day, the chiefs were less apprehensive 
 of being overtaken. They now suffered poor Paddy to 
 go unbound, but warned him not to attempt an escape. 
 Tliis he pledged himself not to do, assuring them, upon his 
 honour, that, if liberated, he would not know which course 
 to take, and would starve in the woods. In short, to their 
 infinite amusement, he begged them not to leave him be- 
 hind. They killed various birds and other tender game 
 for me ; and, my appetite returning, I could partake of 
 them Avith a good relish. 
 
 " In this manner, the weather being very beautiful alJ 
 the time, we completed the journey. Paddy and I were 
 delivered into the hands of the seven warriors — Senecas, I 
 think — encamped a few miles from this place up the stream. 
 One of their party guided us hither, and uttered the halloo 
 which apprised you of our approach. He then vanished, 
 and I saw him no more." 
 
 When Julia concluded her recital, Paddy, who had been 
 listening to Peter, was seen to spring upright. 
 
 " A nd you mane to tell me that that is the prant of the 
 
128 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 bear's nails on yer leather shirt?" cried he, when ropcorn 
 recounted his recent adventure. 
 
 "I do, Paddy, and hang me if I can't prove it !" 
 
 " And so you must be afther having a vulgar set-to at 
 boxing wid the filthy crature, instead of using a shelalah ' 
 T m astonished at yer taste !" 
 
 "But I killed him with my tomahawk, Paddy," added 
 Peter, in a low tone, " and he never hurt a hair of my 
 head." 
 
 " A precious small dale ye have left at all ! If it wasn't 
 for the shaving of the hair, and painting of wan's counte- 
 nance in that blackguard fashion, I would have no objec- 
 tions to be an Indian meself for the trifle of a week or 
 two. But what do they lave that plume of a tuft on the 
 top o' yer head for?" 
 
 " That's the scalp-lock, Paddy." 
 
 "The sculp-lock ! Divil the bit shall they have to sculp 
 me by! I'll have ivery blade taken off the top o' my 
 head! I'll be as bald as a shaven monk to morrow morn- 
 ing, if there's a razor to be had ! They shall find no sculp- 
 lock on Paddy's head ! And now, what in nature is that 
 horrid roar I hear?" 
 
 " That's my — my horse, Paddy," said Peter, hesitating, 
 and recognising the sound. 
 
 " And I'd like to saa that same horse o' yours. I hope 
 you don't fade him in the ear." 
 
 "In the ear?" 
 
 " Yes ; hasn't he ears ?" 
 
 " Oh, very large ones. But I don't know what he can 
 be smelling now. Didn't you hear something?" 
 
 Shouts and the reports of guns were indeed heard. 
 Charles and Calvin sprang up and listened attentively. 
 
 " McSwine !" said Charles. " It is the voice of McSwine ! 
 Julia, your captors were pursued, and have been overtaken. 
 My father permitted McSwine to go upon the trail, and he 
 is an experienced woodsman. Listen ! Did you not hear 
 that ? The Senecas cry, OoNAn ! It is for us to fly. We 
 will not move ! My mother, let Queen Esther's guards 
 bide from the fatal aim of McSwine. He is our friend, 
 and will deliver us. We will remain !" 
 
 " My son," said the Gentle Moonlight, "there are more 
 ;han a hundred Seneca warriors encamped behind us, and 
 
SECOND SERIES. 120 
 
 otliers are on the inarch. Thoy have been sent to kill 
 buffalo, and merely await our motions, for they have beeri 
 charged to see that no one escapes before we reach Chili- 
 cothe. Such was the speech of a runner who passed this 
 morning." 
 
 " Queen Esther," said Calvin, *' cannot have given orders 
 to restrain my actions. I will go to the Oncidas, and then 
 to the faithful band of Delawares remaining in their wig- 
 wams. I will return with as many as will accompany me, 
 and we will defend the sister of Brandt's mother, and his 
 own sister." 
 
 Calvin started away, and was soon lost to sight in the 
 intricacies of the woods. Meantime an occasional shot was 
 heard, followed by the yells of the savages, which seemed 
 to grow fainter in the distance. 
 
 Charles went forth alone in the direction from which the 
 yells at first proceeded, and sounded a horn his father had 
 given him. It was replied to immediately by McSwine, 
 who was standing but a few hundred paces distant. The 
 next moment the rescuing party advanced, and Avere soon 
 greeted with the animated congratulations of Charles. 
 
 " Hoot, mon ! Our blude's up ! Where's the lassie ?" 
 said McSwine. 
 
 " Safe, safe !" cried Charles. "She is yonder, where the 
 fire is glimmering, in the camp of my foster-mother. And 
 she is safe for the night. The Scnecas, though wolves by 
 day, do not often prowl in the night. Come in and eat. 
 And you are here, Will ?" he continued, heartily wel- 
 coming Van Wiggens, and patting the head of his frisky, 
 stump-tailed dog. 
 
 " Yes, tam dem!" said he. " Dey steal te goot and te 
 peautiful Miss Lane, and leave te scolding Mrs. Wan 
 Viggens !" 
 
 Charles cordially grasped the hands of the rest of the 
 party — some five or six in all — who had accompanied 
 McSwine. 
 
 But the Indians knew IMcSwine's Scotch accent, and 
 recollected his herculean frame, which, years before, had 
 been terribly familiar. Hence their flight before they 
 knew exactly the numerical strength of the rescuers. 
 
 Charles led his friends into the tent of his Indian 
 mother, where Julia gave utterance to the thanks she felt 
 
"tSO WILD "WESTEKN SCENES: 
 
 for the pursuit, and where the Indian maiden and her aunt 
 had already prepared for them a plentiful repast. 
 
 They ate like half-starved wolves, having fasted for 
 Beveral days. And, as they masticated the bear, Peter 
 Shaver "was heard to say he had killed him. 
 
 " Tam ! Who's dat tere ?" cried Van Wiggens, point- 
 ing at the chief of the Capitanasses. 
 
 "I'm Peter Shaver, Will," said he. "Don't you know 
 ^^ . 
 
 "Peter Shaver? Warn't he drownded at te Gap? 
 Dey saw a pig fat round ting floating town te river, 
 which some said was a swelt hog, and some said it vas like 
 Peter Shaver. Most of us dought it vas Peter, and it 
 vas more like him tan you." 
 
 " Bill Van W^iggens," said Peter, quivering with anger, 
 "you once felt Peter Shaver's fist on your fat paunch. If 
 you'll step out, you may feel it again, and then you'll know 
 him !" 
 
 " Tat's his voice, I'll swear to it!" said Van Wiggens. 
 " I pelieve you now, Peter. You needn't prove it any 
 more. And you look more like a man as an Indian tan 
 you did before. Peter," he continued, in a half whisper, 
 "tam if I don't turn Indian myself! Mrs. Wan Viggens 
 will be afraid of me den !" 
 
 Peter Shaver, Paddy Pence, and W^ill Van Wiggens, 
 surrounded by the three or four clansmen of the Cameron 
 who had followed McSwine, formed a separate group some 
 paces apart, and entertained each other with the recital of 
 their exploits. 
 
 "Now, Hugh," said Charles, when the last bone had 
 been picked, " you Avill tell me the news of the valley, and 
 first of my father." 
 
 " Well, mon, well. The laird was never sick in his life, 
 since we carried him over the hills of Scotland, his breast 
 and shoulders shot to pieces by the English cannon. He 
 reads and studies in his castle, watching for his bonn^ 
 laddie's return, but not impatiently. He waits the Lord's 
 time, who holds us all in the hollow of his hand." 
 
 "God bless my good father!" said Charles; and Mc- 
 S'viine uttered a hearty Amen. 
 
 The faitiiful Scot informed Charles that the capture of 
 Julia had pioduced great consternation in the nei^Jibour 
 
SECOND SERIES. 131 
 
 hood, and for several days after the occurrence it seemed 
 doubtful wliether a party could be formed to go in pursuit. 
 Mr. Schooley, almost distracted, did nothing but write let- 
 ters to all the chiefs and sachems he had ever known ; but 
 there were no messengers to deliver them. Richard rode 
 from one house to another, offering insignificant pecuniary 
 rewards for the rescue and restitution of the lady. Hia 
 tears flowed incessantly, but he was religiously averse to 
 bearing arms himself. Yet he ran and brought the 
 French gun that had been dropped by Paddy, and, putting 
 it in the hands of Van Wiggens, proposed supplying the 
 whole party with horses and ammunition." 
 
 " Poor Solo !" cried Julia, at this point. " Tell me, good 
 Hugh : what was my poor dog's condition when you left ? 
 Say no more of Richard, or his honest scruples." 
 
 McSwine informed her that he had himself withdrawn 
 the arrow, and that the faithful animal could use his legs 
 immediately, for he evinced his gratitude by leaping up 
 w^ith his paws against his breast ; and, when they started in 
 the pursuit, Solo had to be locked up, else he would have 
 followed them, and might have died on the way. 
 
 " Let us pray !" said Mr. Jones, suddenly returning from 
 one of his solitary nocturnal rambles, during which he had 
 been forgotten by the rest of the party. "I have heard 
 the signals of the wolves of Queen Esther. They are ral- 
 lying in the mountains, and after they have buried their 
 dead they will come upon us with howls and gnashing 
 teeth." 
 
 " You've got my French gun, Mr. Van Wiggens," said 
 Paddy, " and I can't fight." 
 
 " You shall have one of my pistols, Paddy," said 
 Charles, 
 
 "And one of mine," said Mr. Jones. "My voice will 
 intimidate them more than my arms. But, alas ! blood has 
 been spilled, I heard their death-halloo." 
 
 "True, mon !" said Hugh, "we fired bock at 'em. And 
 when Hugh McSwine fires his rifle at mortal mon he be- 
 comes immortal." 
 
 " Let us pray, then !" repeated David Jones, falling down 
 on his knees. The whole party, excepting the Presbyte- 
 rians, followed his example ; the Indian maiden and her 
 aunt with as little hesitation as the rest. And the Indians, 
 
182 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 unlike many of the civilized Christians, never experience 
 any feeling of shame or degradation in bowing before the 
 Great Spirit in humble adoration. They care not who rfoes 
 them Avorship the Creator, any more than to be seen ad- 
 miring a beautiful flower, or when charmed by a sublime 
 spectacle of natural scenery. 
 
 The eccentric Baptist uttered a long petition to the 
 Supreme Ruler. He prayed that the party then kneeling 
 in the solitude of the wilderness might be delivered fiom 
 their enemies ; and, next, that the Sons of Liberty, led into 
 battle by George Washington, might triumph over the 
 legions of the tyrant. 
 
 Then he admonished his hearers that to merit the aid 
 of their Maker it was indispensable that they should be 
 eager to help themselves, which was the best proof of their 
 worthiness to be assisted. 
 
 And after this, Mr. Jones, by the permission of the 
 party, retired a few paces apart, and sang one of the mar- 
 tial psalms of David, in which all the honour of victory was 
 ascribed to the Lord. And as the savage orgies of the 
 Senecas in the distant hills could be distinctly heard, con- 
 stantly borne on the gentle night-breezes, the mighty sound 
 of Mr. Jones's voice must have penetrated the ears of the 
 enemy. 
 
 After their defeat, the guard of Senecas bore their dead 
 — two of their number having fallen — to a place of se- 
 curity, and buried them with all the ceremonies usual on 
 such occasions. They then sent a runner to the large 
 hunting-party of their nation encamped in the vicinity. 
 Just before the messenger reached the encampment, Queen 
 Esther arrived ; and when the runner delivered his mes- 
 sage, and made known the fact that two of the guard had 
 fallen, an intense excitement ensued. Queen Esther, who 
 had been accompanied by several of the principal chiefs 
 recentl}'- returned from Oswego, immediately summoned a 
 council of warriors, at which it was resolved to surround 
 the camp on the Alleghany at early dawn and demand the 
 delivery of the ofiending whites into their hands. This 
 project had the hearty approval of the Queen, and she an- 
 ticipated with delight the torture she meant to inflict on 
 her captives. 
 
 But Bartholomew Calvin had not been idle. He col- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 133 
 
 lectcd th(- party of Dclawares ^vho still acknowlerlged his 
 authority, and also a number of Chcrokees from the South, 
 who -were passing toward the neutral hunting-grounds be- 
 yond the Ohio. A small band of Slnnvnoes, being assured 
 they had no cause of complaint against the Colonists for 
 the murder of Cornstalk at Fort Point Pleasant, as that 
 deed had been done by the agents of Lord Dunmore, like- 
 wise consented to join him, but with no promise to make 
 war against the Senecas. These, together with the seven 
 Oneidas granted as a special protection to Gentle Moon- 
 light and Brown Thrush, numbered altogether, including 
 the party at the camp, some seventy men ; and, apprehend- 
 ing an early assault, Calvin lost no time in leading his suc- 
 cours to the scene of action. They arrived late in the night, 
 and, to avoid disturbing the slumber of our party, sought a 
 few hours' repose under shelter of the surrounding trees. 
 
 As they had foreseen, the warwhoop of the Senecas rang 
 down the valley of the Alleghany at early twilight. Charles, 
 and Calvin, and Hugh, followed by the rescuing party of 
 Scots, rushed at once to the narrow pass above, which, if 
 successfully defended, closed the principal avenue of access 
 to the encampment ; for it was defended in other places by 
 almost precipitous cliifs. 
 
 The Indians who had followed Calvin still lay concealed, 
 in obedience to his instructions. 
 
 At the pass Queen Esther herself came forward and de- 
 manded the delivery of the party who had fired on her 
 guard. This request was refused by Charles, because the 
 guard had been the first to fire, and because the whites 
 were his friends, and were pursuing the Indians who had 
 captured the unoffending maiden. 
 
 " You see I have the means of compelling obedience," 
 said Esther, pointing to the long array of painted warriors 
 behind. 
 
 "I see you have many brave men," said Charles, "but 
 we have warriors quite as bold to meet them." 
 
 " But not so many, On-yit-hah," (bird of the strong wing.) 
 "And why should the "White Eagle defend the accursed pale- 
 faces ? Ay, he is a pale-face, too ! And am not I a pale- 
 face ? But we have dwelt among the sons of the forest, to 
 whom the great Ha-wen-no-yu gave the whole of the 
 woods and the prairies. America's rivers, mines, minerals, 
 
 12 
 
154 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 fishings, hawkings, huntings, and fowlings, — as enumerated 
 in the impu(^ent grant of James, Duke of York, to Berke- 
 ley, Baron of Stratton, — and all other royalties, profits, 
 C(>mmodities, and hereditaments, have ever belonged, and 
 ever should in justice belong, to the noble Indians, who 
 have spared and adopted us. You and I are bound in 
 honour to be the foes of their foes, the friends of their 
 friends. Speak, Onyit-hah!" 
 
 " Queen Esther, it is too late to reverse the doom of the 
 Indians. They now stand but as the trunks of the trees of 
 the forest, while the pale-faces are as innumerable as the 
 leaves or the stars of heaven. The leaves may fall; they 
 return again in the spring ; but the oak, once uprooted or 
 felled, rises no more. It is in vain to speak of exterminat- 
 ing the white race on these shores. And whether King 
 George succeeds in subjugating the people, or the people 
 in throwing oif their allegiance, the result will be the same 
 to the doomed Indian. I will weep with you and mourn 
 their sad destiny ; but it would be worse than useless to 
 contend for them in hattle, and criminal to engage them on 
 either side in the strife between the Colonies and the crown. 
 Let us unite in preserving them from the danger on every 
 hand, and thus we may contribute to prolong their exist- 
 ence." 
 
 "Enough, ungrateful boy! But you and I must perish 
 with the doomed Indian ! Know you not it is better to die 
 nobly and quickly amid the smoke and slaughter of battle, 
 than to ignominiously drag out a miserable existence and 
 finally sink into contempt? Better that you, and the white 
 maiden, and your Indian mother, and Thayendanegea's in- 
 fatuated sister, should all perish, than breed divisions among 
 the warriors of the scattered nations. And you, degenerate 
 son of the Lenni Lenappe," she continued, addressing Cal- 
 vin, "why dost thou not sigh at the feet of some high-born 
 white damsel ?" 
 
 "Queen Esther!" replied the enraged youth, "whoever 
 accepts me for a husband must be virtuous and contented 
 with her lot. And such was not the case Avith thee." 
 
 " Fool ! coward ! wretch !" cried the exasperated old 
 hag. " I will have you a prisoner and burn you at the 
 stake !" 
 
 "Not so fast, madam, if you please!" said Calvin. 
 
SECOND SEIIIRS. 135 
 
 " There are warriors of my nation now crouching within 
 call. Let your wolves but once more sound the warwhoop, 
 and thou shalt be my prisoner!" 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! The poor silly youth ! Boasting of his 
 Delawares when there are not two hundred of them capable 
 of bearing arms if they were all collected from the four 
 quarters of the earth !" 
 
 " We have Oneidas, Cherokees, and Shawnees in our 
 camp," said Charles. 
 
 "Not seventy, all told, On-yit-hah. I learned at the 
 council the numbers and probable localities of every nation. 
 But Indians should not shed each other's blood. We came 
 hither to fight the white men who slew our warriors Will 
 you give them up ?" 
 
 " Not while there is an arm among us strong enough to 
 raise a tomahawk !" 
 
 Queen Esther, seeing the pass could be defended by the 
 small party already posted in the commanding positions, 
 drew back, announcing her purpose to consult her chiefs 
 once more before giving the signal for the attack. 
 
 And while Charles awaited the result of the consultation, 
 Paddy Pence came running toward him, nearly out of 
 breath, and very pale. 
 
 " Mr. Charles ! Mr. Charles !" said he, " there's Indians 
 in the bushes under the trays. I stepped aside, niver 
 draming of sich a thing, and when I cast me eyes down- 
 ward, sure enough I beheld an Indian foments me toes. 
 And he was winking and making mouths, and screwing 
 about in his slnpe ! I turned as soon as I could conva- 
 niently, and tried to stale softly away. But, as St. Pater's 
 my witness, the logs I thought I was stipping over ivery- 
 where were slaping Indians ! And I sat down on one, and 
 he drew up his fut and struck me behind such a powerful 
 blow that me head, before I could stop it, went against a 
 tree siven yards away." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Don't trouble me now with your idle 
 dreams," said Charles, making an effort to assume a severe 
 gravity. 
 
 " Drames ! Och, murther ! An' I hope the savage will 
 think it a drame when he wakes up ! Och, Paddy Pence, 
 Paddy Pence ! It's coming to be the very thing they said 
 ^■ouM happen to ye in the wild country of America !" 
 
VS(' WILD WESTERX SCENES: 
 
 Leaving the Highlanders under McSwine posted in posi- 
 tions to command the pass, Charles, who had been beckoned 
 away by his foster-mother, slowly walked toward the tent. 
 She lifted the curtain of dressed skins, and revealed a 
 spectacle that caused the young man's bosom to swell with 
 tender emotions. At the extremity of the pavilion he be- 
 held Julia partly habited in the Indian costume, profusely 
 and richly ornamented. At her feet sat the Indian maiden, 
 her head reclining on the captive's knee and her lustrous 
 eyes fixed in admiration on her lovely face. 
 
 " The Brown Thrush is very kind to her pale sister," 
 said Charles, advancing in obedience to the desire of his 
 foster-mother. 
 
 " Oh, yes !" said Julia, smiling sadly. " She has been 
 kind and loving. And what return can I make for such 
 affection ? To carry her into the habitations of our people 
 would be to deprive her of happiness." 
 
 " Kacha Manito dwells in the air," said the Indian 
 maiden, who had learned many English words. " He likes 
 trees, flowers, rocks, and streams. He would not stay in 
 strong houses." 
 
 "And I could not dwell in tents," said Julia. 
 
 " Unless detained as a prisoner," said Charles. 
 
 " Oh, then there would be no remedy," said she. 
 
 "Would the Antelope escape?" asked the Thrush. "If 
 BO, she shall return to her people ; and, if she desires her 
 Indian sister to go with her, she will do so. And then the 
 White Eagle will put down his tomahawk and rifle, and no 
 one will watch to take away his life. His sisters would be 
 very happy." 
 
 "But the Thrush would droop and die if taken from her 
 native woods," said Julia. 
 
 " Then she would go to the Spirit-land and sing until 
 her white sister and the White Eagle came. In that hunt- 
 ing-ground there are no rains to wet, no frosts to chill us. 
 The good Manito makes all happy. No more dying, no 
 more pain here," she added, placing her hand on her breast 
 
 "And hast thou any pain there?" asked Julia. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! The Malcha Manito keeps saying I must 
 kill the Antelope, or On-yit-hah (bird of the strong wing") 
 will fly away and return no more. But the Good Spirit 
 whispers that when the Antelope dies the White Eagle will 
 
SECOND SERIES. 137 
 
 fold his wings on some high rock and close his eyes. I 
 could not bear to see him so." 
 
 After a long silence, during which both Charles and Julia 
 scanned with amazement the ingenuous features of the In- 
 dian "irl, the latter asked the Thrush if she had not said 
 ahe loved her white sister, and if she could really be induced 
 to take her life if assured it would not grieve the White 
 Eagle. 
 
 The Indian maiden said the Thrush never sang falsely. 
 She did love her white sister dearly. She loved her before 
 she ever saw her face, from the description her brother 
 (Brandt) had given, and because the White Eagle loved 
 her. But she said it would not be an unfriendly act to 
 send her sister to the eternal flowers and fruits of the 
 Spirit-land. She would be very happy there, and the 
 Thrush would be very happy here with the White Eagle. 
 
 Charles and Julia only gazed in astonishment, mingled 
 with painful forebodings. And the Indian maiden con- 
 tinued substantially as follows : — 
 
 "But her white brother might mourn, and never smile 
 again. Then his forest-sister would do nothing but shed 
 tears. No ; she wouhl not kill her sister. Her word was 
 spoken. But her white sister might kill her. She would 
 dig up a root for the Antelope to give her. She would 
 take it from her snow-white hand and swallow it. She 
 would be happy in the Spirit-land, and her pale-face sister 
 would be happy with the White Eagle in the house of his 
 white-haired father." 
 
 " No !" said Charles, with emphasis. " The White Eagle 
 would be as miserable if his red sister died as he would to 
 lose his Antelope. Neither must die. But if one of them 
 were to kill the other, On-yit-hah would dart up into the 
 clouds and never alight upon the earth again. His sisters 
 must live and love each other." 
 
 The Indian girl, smiling through her tears, wound her 
 arms round the form of Julia, and kissed her repeatedly. 
 
 Charl'^s, being informed by his Indian mother that a 
 messenger from Queen Esther awaited him at the pass, 
 hastened in that direction. 
 
 Julia's tears were wiped away by the long silken hair of 
 the forest-maiden, and they ate together the delicious viands 
 placed before them by the Gentle Moonlight. 
 
 12* 
 
138 WILD WESTERN SCENES; 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 IHE COMPACT — PADDY AND THE SOW — ARRIVAL AT CHFLLI- 
 COTHE — THE BAPTISM OF BOONE AND ST. TAMMANY, ETC. 
 — RESOLUTION TO ESCAPE. 
 
 When Charles approached the pass where the messenger 
 from the Senecas awaited him, Hugh McSwine whispered 
 to him, as he passed, — 
 
 " Be watchful, my laddie. Dinna' trust him further than 
 you can see; for it's Givty!" 
 
 " Girty !" said Van Wiggens, hearing the name. " He's 
 a tam rascal." 
 
 " I know him well," said Charles. " Never fear ; but 
 keep your rifles ready." 
 
 He then Avalked boldly forward, and accepted the hand 
 which Girty offered him. 
 
 "I suppose, Mr. Girty," said Charles, "you are pre- 
 pared to announce the decision of Esther's council." 
 
 Girty hesitated a moment as if disconcerted. He had 
 arrived upon the ground after the withdrawal of the Queen 
 from the pass, and, as he was carefully painted and costumed 
 like an Indian, it had been his wish to remain unrecognised. 
 
 " The eye of the White Eagle is clear," said Girty, not 
 denying his identity ; " and no doubt his wisdom has fore- 
 seen the result of the deliberations of the warriors." 
 
 " We have at least conjectured what might be the de 
 cision of our enemies," said Charles, "and we are pre- 
 pared for any contingency." 
 
 " Be assured you are not prepared for battle," said Girty. 
 "Five hundred Seneca warriors have arrived since day- 
 break." 
 
 "The few we have to oppose them," said Charles, "are 
 prepared to die in defence of the Avhite maiden and those 
 who pursued her captors. We have warriors of several 
 tribes ; yours are all Senecas. We have Delawares, Onei- 
 das, Cherokees, and Shawnees ; and, if you attack us, you 
 must abide the consequences. An eternal enmity will en* 
 
SECOND SERIES. 139 
 
 Buc between these nations and the Seneca8. And the In- 
 dian maiden is the sister of Brandt, and her foster-mother 
 his aunt. Queen Esther durst not attack us !" 
 
 "It is true I" said Girty, admiring the bold confidence 
 of the young man, 
 
 "Then what can you do?" demanded Charles. 
 
 " We will tell the Shawnees that the garrison at Point 
 Pleasant, although subject to the orders of Lord Dunmore, 
 when Cornstalk and his son were murdered, now refuse to 
 obey him, and that the men who performed the butchery 
 are among the rebels. And they will leave your camp." 
 
 The facts, as stated by Girty, were undeniable, and 
 Charles did not attempt to controvert them. 
 
 "Then what song," he asked, "has Girty to charm the 
 ears of the Cherokees?" 
 
 " Did they not sell their lands in Kentucky to a North 
 Carolina company, and has not Virginia decided that the 
 title of the North Carolinians is invalid, because Kentucky 
 lay within her limits?" 
 
 " Then I suppose there was no sale," replied Charles, 
 "if the company had no right to buy." 
 
 "But," said Gii'ty, with a malicious smile, "Virginia 
 says the Cherokees had a right to sell, and, as they have 
 relinquished their title, she becomes the owner, and is pre- 
 paring to take possession. This will charm the ears of the 
 Cherokees." 
 
 Charles had not heard of these transactions, and they 
 might be as Girty said ; and, if so, the hostility of the 
 Southern Indians would certainly follow. 
 
 " Then there are the Delawares and the Oneidas," said 
 Charles. , 
 
 "Among the Delawares whose voice is strongest? — the 
 Garden Terrapin, Bartholomew Calvin, or the Great Mingo 
 chief, Logan, whose family were slaughtered by the bloody 
 Cresap ? And the Oneidas will follow the rest. Time will 
 array them all against the Colonies." 
 
 " I did not come hither, Girty," said Charles, "to listen 
 to your speeches. Let us act. Shall we fight, or part in 
 peace?" 
 
 " This is the decision, my young friend, as I would call 
 thee: — The white maiden, and the party that pursued her 
 captors, to return to their homes in Jersey, if you will 
 
140 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 remain and wed the Brown Thrush, and swear never to 
 lift hand or voice against the Indians ; or " 
 
 " Let me hear the alternative !" said Charles, seeing 
 Girty hesitated; "for that will be the sentence." 
 
 " Or else," said Girty, his penetrating eye fixed upon 
 the countenance of the young man, " the whole party — 
 rescuers and maiden, the recreant Calvin and yourself, 
 Gentle Moonlight and the Thrush — must depart imme- 
 diately for Chillicothe and await the determination of a 
 grand council." 
 
 "Will Thayendanegea be there?" asked Charles. 
 
 " He will." 
 
 " And Red Jacket ?" 
 
 "He will." 
 
 " Then we will go to Chillicothe. Let the chiefs meet 
 around the council-fire which has been burning for ages, 
 and I will speak to them. But I warn you, Girty, not to 
 molest us as we descend the river !" 
 
 " You are not to descend the Ohio. The Queen says 
 you might escape into Virginia. Your course will be south- 
 west until you strike the head-waters of the Scioto, down 
 which you can float in canoes to Chillicothe. The Seneca 
 warriors will follow in your rear; the rest of the Five 
 Nations will proceed along the southern shore of Lake Erie, 
 on your right, while the Tuscarawas will be on your left." 
 'I care not!" said Charles, "so they do not molest us. 
 My word is passed to meet you at Chillicothe." 
 
 " The Queen has no confidence in the big Scotchman 
 who has shiin so many of her subjects. She recollects him 
 well when he fought on the Conococheague." 
 
 " Then let her bewaj^e of him, for I know not whether 
 ne will be a party to the compact. If not, you may pre- 
 vent his escape if you can. And I must also consult the 
 white maiden before the agreement is ratified. If she will 
 not go " 
 
 " She will go !" exclaimed Julia herself, who had be- 
 sought the Indian girl to conduct her to the scene of con- 
 ference, and had been led noiselessly round the cliff to 
 where Charles and Girty stood. " Yes, she will go with 
 you to the grand council-fire at Chillicothe. and she will 
 not depart from the wilderness until all her whito friends 
 may accompany her." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 141 
 
 Charles signified his approbation by a proud smile. He 
 knew not wlicthcr Julia had heard the first proposition; 
 but, if she had, it was quite apparent ohe would not accept 
 her enfranchisement on the terms proposed. 
 
 The announcement in camp that they were in cff'ect the 
 prisoners of Queen Esther was variously received, and 
 perhaps by none with more secret satisfaction than poor 
 Van Wifjgens. Even his little mongrel cur, that had ac- 
 companied him, seemed to wag his blunt tail in delight; for 
 he had generally received as' many blows from Mrs. Van 
 Wiggens's broomstick as his master got wounds from her 
 tongue. 
 
 The aunt and sister of Brandt, now the Great Sachem 
 of the Five Nations, did not doubt that his influence would 
 be exerted in behalf of themselves and their friends. And 
 David Jones thought he Avould have an excellent opportu- 
 nity of being heard by the representatives of all the tribes. 
 But neither he nor Charles had correctly estimated the 
 powers of Girty, McKee, and Elliot, who represented in the 
 wild woods the military chest of Great Britain. 
 
 The Indians whom Calvin had induced to consent to aid 
 in the defence of the camp, upon being advised of the 
 af^reement, rose from their lurking-places, and, after utter- 
 ing several halloo s, dispersed in pursuit of game. In vain 
 the Delawares pleaded with Calvin to accompany them. He 
 could not be torn away from the Indian maiden. 
 
 Charles and the Rev. Mr. Jones, desirous of hastening 
 to the place designated for the meeting of the grand 
 council, urged forward the preparations for departure. 
 The horses Avere packed without delay, and, as the aunt of 
 Thayendanegea had quite a number of extra ones, the 
 ■whole party were well mounted. But it was in vain that 
 the Indian women strove to persuade Julia to ride as they 
 did — astride like the men. She preferred the English 
 custom. 
 
 The first day some forty miles were accomplished, and 
 they encamped on the Shcnango River, selecting a position 
 susceptible of defence. But there was no molestation. 
 Mr. Jones uttered a long prayer in the deep solitude of 
 the forest, and after a hearty meal the travellers, all ex- 
 cepting the sentry, wei'e hushed in profound repose. But 
 the stillness of the night was once broken by the fierce 
 
142 WILD WESTEEN SCENES: 
 
 barking of Van Wiggens's dog, who snuffed the prowling 
 wolves. Hugh McSwine wished to kill him, as he might 
 betray them if an enemy should be lurking in the vicinity. 
 But this the honest Dutchman would not listen to. He 
 took his " Vatch" in his arms, and, whenever he manifested 
 an inclination to bark or whine, he choked him into 
 silence. 
 
 Fortunately there were no enemies lurking in the vici- 
 nity ; and the next morning, after a hearty breakfast, they 
 resumed the journey. But, as the meat had been consumed, 
 several of the most skilful woodsmen were sent forward 
 to kill game for their next meal. A buffalo they found 
 afforded some sport. It ran in view of the main body of 
 the travellers for more than a mile, and finally fell in their 
 rear within a few paces of Peter Shaver, whose ass, scenting 
 the blood, brayed, as usual, most vociferously. 
 
 " And what sort of a baste is that ?" asked Paddy Pence, 
 who had been lagging in company with Peter, and listen- 
 ing to a narrative of his exciting adventures among the 
 Indians. 
 
 " It's a buffalo," said Peter. "And a fine fat cow." 
 
 " A cow, you say ! And I wonder if it gives any milk ! 
 And who'd milk such an ugly monster? But the mate is 
 good, for I tasted some in the camp." 
 
 " It's mate was a bull, Paddy. There are do wild steers 
 in these woods ; and the beef of a bull even an Indian 
 won't eat unless he's half starved." 
 
 " And who was saying any thing about its swatcheart ? 
 You must be hard of hearing, though you and your baste 
 have ears enough for four men and sax horses. Mate ! — I 
 said mate !" 
 
 " Oh, you mean meat, I guess. But here they come to 
 skin the cow." 
 
 During the day several deer were slaughtered, and 
 subsequently there was no scarcity of provisions in the 
 camp. 
 
 And Paddy became familiar with the rattle of venomous 
 snakes, and, after repeatedly flying from them, learned to 
 kill them like the rest, — an operation of easy performance 
 when one has the nerve to do it, for they are very inactive- 
 One day Paddy, emboldened by his continued escapu 
 from the dangers of the wilderness, borrowed Van Wig- 
 
SECOND SICRIES. 143 
 
 gons's rifle and sallied forth witli the hunters, to enjoy 
 some of the forest sports -which were described every night 
 to admiring listeners. Tliere was no danger of being lust, 
 as they were now following one of the small tributaries of 
 the Scioto, and he had only to keep in view of the stream 
 to guard against the possibility of wandering from the 
 right direction. 
 
 But he soon returned to leave his horse in charge of 
 Peter, saying he would try it on foot, as his "baste" made 
 so much noise dragging its " fut" through the dry "laves" 
 the deer all ran away before he could see enough of them 
 to fire at. But Paddy strove in vain to kill a deer. He 
 started several, whose snorting he could hear very distinctly 
 as they sprang up from their beds, and once or twice he 
 had glimpses of the whites of their tails as they leaped over 
 the bushes ; but they were gone before he could take aim 
 and pull trigger. After bestowing some abusive epithets 
 on them for not standing, like "dacent bastes," to be shot 
 at, he contemptuously abandoned the pursuit, and confined 
 his attention to the turkeys which every now and then 
 crossed his path near the stream, within the narrow valley 
 of Avhich he still confined his wanderings. 
 
 But Paddy grew weary at last, and had not a single 
 trophy to exhibit. The turkeys wouldn't stand fire cither ; 
 and he thought it very singular that a gobbler up in a tree 
 should be able to see him first, inasmuch as he Y<as larger 
 than the bird, and had larger eyes. 
 
 He sat down on a log beside the path. It was growing 
 late, and the last rays of the setting sun bathed in gold the 
 tree-tops and summits of the distant hills. A sqairrel chat- 
 tered on a bough above, with its tail curved over its back. 
 He looked at Paddy, and Paddy looked at him. 
 
 " The little baste is poking his jokes at me !" said Paddy 
 "And if I should kill him, wouldn't the boys laugh? 
 Joke away, my little crature; I don't understand yev lingo, 
 and I'm sure I shouldn't take ofience at it. But what's 
 that same ?" 
 
 Paddy was attracted by a rustling among the leaves in a 
 dense thicket within a dozen yards of him. He thought he 
 heard also a sound like the crushmg of acorns under the 
 giant oak that overspread the thicket. But he could see 
 nothing animate, although the chopping of nuts continued 
 
144 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 at intervals. With his eyes fixed in the direction froiL 
 whence the sound proceeded, he remained perfectly motion- 
 less, his gun in readiness to fire, and his legs prepared to 
 run, if any imminent danger became apparent. 
 
 He knew not how long he sat and watched. But he could 
 hear the men fixing the tent-poles near a bend of the 
 stream some two hundred paces back ; and, seeing he was 
 not likely to be relieved from his perilous situation, if he 
 ■were really in danger, by the nearer approach of his com- 
 rades, he began to experience an uncomfortable sensation 
 of fear creeping up his back and gradually lifting his cap 
 from his head. But still he could see nothing likely to do 
 him injury. The saucy squirrel only mocked him ; and the 
 huge owl that flapped through the dusky recesses of the 
 forest, where the rays of the sun rarely penetrated, never 
 ventured to assail a man. It could not be a panther he 
 heard, for that dreadful animal did not feed on acorns. A 
 bear was not dangerous, as he learned from Peter Shaver, 
 unless one seized her cub. Paddy had no cub, and he 
 resolved not to touch one if they should come around him 
 as abundantly as the fallen leaves. 
 
 It would not do, however, to remain thus inactive, and so 
 he stooped down and peered under the bushes. 
 
 "Be jabers !" said he, after gazing some time in silence, 
 "I'm not afraid o' the likes of you! I've twisted the tails 
 of too many pigs in ould Ireland to run away from one in 
 America, and with a gun in my hand to boot I" 
 
 It was a large white sow, apparently of great age, 
 which had strayed from the settlements of the white man, 
 escaped the knives of the Indian and repelled the assaults 
 of the wolf. It now ceased to crack the acorns, and lay 
 quite still in its bed of leaves, for it had likewise become 
 conscious of the presence of Paddy. It lay with its fierce 
 eyes fixed upon the intruder, as if partaking of the fearful 
 and repellent nature of the wild beasts of the forest with 
 whom alone it had been long associated. But, if it had for- 
 gotten the friendly form of man, Paddy had not forgotten 
 the usually harmless capabilities of the pig, and so ho 
 resolved to have it for a victim, and as a unique trophy in 
 the wilderness. 
 
 He raised his gun and fired before getting a steady aim, 
 and the ball, striking too high, glanced along from the top 
 
SECOND SERIES. 145 
 
 of the aniraars head, cutting a furroAV through the roots of 
 the bristles and covering its back witii blood. For a mo- 
 laent it was stunned, and Paddy, supposing it dead, ap 
 preached with confidence. But, before he could seize it, the 
 recovered animal rushed toward him with open mouth. 
 Paddy, however, was in his element in a contest with a pig, 
 and so, throwing down his gun, was in readiness for the 
 assault. He sprang up with his feet apart and descended 
 on the back of the sow, with his head toward her tail. He 
 clasped his arms tightly round her body, and hugged her 
 neck with his legs, so she could not turn and bite him. 
 But she could open her mouth, and did so, and squealed 
 and squeaked terrifically, running along the path toward 
 the encampment. All were anxious to see the beast making 
 such horrific sounds ; and when the sow plunged in the 
 midst of the men she was so much concealed or disfigured 
 by the body of Paddy that none of the spectators could 
 conjecture for several minutes what sort of an animal it 
 was. The squealing was not strange to their ears ; but 
 they did not suppose a hog could be found in a region so 
 far from the dwellings of white men. 
 
 And soon the ass, getting the scent of blood, began to 
 bray with all the power of his lungs ; and Van Wiggens's 
 mongrel cur, being the first to perceive the true nature of 
 the beast, and true to his instincts, rushed forward in the 
 midst of the meUc, (for the sow was now exhausted, and 
 only turned and squalled, surrounded by the crowd of tra- 
 vellers,) but, instead of seizing the animal's ear, as he 
 intended, got hold of Paddy's calf by mistake. 
 
 " Och, murther !" cried Paddy. " Take away the dog ! 
 He's tearing me leg ! Two on one is foul play, and fair 
 play's a jewel. Take away your baste of a cur, Mr. Van 
 Wiggens, or I'll worry you when I'm done with this chap. 
 I'd thank you for the loan of a knife, Mr. Shaver," he 
 Continued ; " for mine has dhropt out of me hilt in the 
 tussell." And, being accommodated by Peter, Paddy suc- 
 ceeded in cutting the throat of the sow, and so put an end 
 to its squealing. 
 
 The sow, being very fat, was highly relished by the men ; 
 *nd there was great abundance of deer and turkeys killed 
 by the hunters. Paddy's knife and Van Wiggens's gun 
 were found where they had been dropped ; and the affair 
 
 13 
 
146 WILD WESTLRX SCEXKS : 
 
 of the sow C'civised mncli merriment when referred to during 
 the remainder of the journey, Avhich -was accomplished 
 without further difficulty or remarkable event. 
 
 When the party reached Chillicothe they %vere in advance 
 of the Eastern Indians ; but quite a number of Western 
 chiefs and their families were present. Chillicothe was an 
 old Indian town, and consisted of many liuts of a more 
 substantial character than those generally inhabited by the 
 roving children of the forest. Gentle [Moonlight possessed 
 several of these houses, of which her deceased husband had 
 been the proprietor, as well as a large body of land adja- 
 cent to the village. These she took possession of, and the 
 whole party were soon comfortably domiciled in huts and 
 tents. 
 
 But, as runners were constantly arriving from various 
 directions, the place was continually agitated with news, 
 sometimes encouraging to the captives, but often the 
 reverse. 
 
 The Cherokees and Shawnees, as Avell as other Western 
 Indians sojourning at Chillicothe, although they were very 
 kind to the aunt and sister of Brandt, and friendly to 
 Charles, Calvin, and the missionary, Mr. Jones, did not 
 seem to regard the other captives with the respect which 
 had been hoped for. There were, besides, a number of pri- 
 soners from Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Kentucky, and 
 they -were so carefully watched and securely guarded that 
 even the obtuse Peter Shaver could not avoid the inference 
 that peace was not to be " calculated" upon. 
 
 Among the prisoners met with in the town was a tall, 
 straight man, with broad shoulders and muscular limbs, 
 denoting extraordinary strength. He generally sat apart, 
 smiling composedly at the diverting conduct or amusing 
 anecdotes of the Indians ; or, if not addressed by any of 
 them or the object of their notice, his eyes were fixed ab- 
 stractedly on the dark woods down the right bank of the 
 Scioto ; and one beholding his countenance would suppose 
 he longed to be again a free rover in the boundless 
 wilderness. 
 
 This was Daniel Boone, then in the prime of manhood ; 
 and it was the second or third time he had fallen into 
 the hands of the Indians. He was a brave man, and tiie 
 Indians loved him. He Avas as good a Avoodsman as any of 
 
SECOND SERIES. 147 
 
 their own chiefs, and they respected him so highly that 
 extraordinary exertions were made to induce him to live 
 among them and become the head of a great family. But 
 he had already a wife and children in Kentucky ; and, be- 
 sides, he loved the solitudes of the forest rather than the 
 boisterous society of his fellow-men, whether savage or 
 civilized. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Jones and Boone had often met before ; 
 and the latter had promised the preacher that when they 
 encountered again, if there should be water, he would de- 
 sire to be baptized. And now the preacher claimed the 
 fulfilment of his promise, declaring to the Indians who 
 listened that the ceremony would aftbrd him more pleasure 
 and be a greater honour in the sight of the Good Spirit 
 than the taking of scalps in time of war. And Boone did 
 not object. II is wife was a Baptist. He had reached the 
 meridian of life, and would no longer postpone the per- 
 formance of a sacred duty. 
 
 And so, on the third day after the arrival of the party at 
 Chillicothe, the banks of the Scioto were lined with Indians, 
 men, (old men mostly,) women, and children, to witness the 
 baptism by immersion of " Captain Boone." But Mr. 
 Jones had not usually been in the ho.bit of going down into 
 the water with a solitary convert, nor was he under the 
 necessity of doing so on that occasion. The aged Tam- 
 many, a chief of the Western Delawares, who had ever been 
 his friend, stood beside him on the margin of the water, 
 prepared to submit to the ordinance prescribed for the sal- 
 vation of sinners. Priests of other denominations had 
 proposed other modes of baptism ; but the plan of Mr. Jones, 
 who had been most instrumental in his conversion, seemed 
 appropriate to the Indian, and very similar to a ceremony 
 of their own in washing away the blood of another race. 
 
 Nor were the enthusiastic Baptist's labours to end with 
 Tammany — who subsequently became a saint ; but Gentle 
 Moonlight and Brown Thrush likewise consented to go 
 down with him into the water and take upon themselves 
 the Christian's vows. Mr. Jones did not require any extra- 
 ordinary sacrifices. Their great Ila-wen-no-yu, he said, 
 was but another name for the Christian's God, their Kacha 
 Manito the Christian's Holy Spirit, and Malcha Manito 
 the devil. The latter they must cease praying to to punish 
 
148 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 their entmios, as the God of the Christians could destroy 
 as Avell as preserve. Although with them this was not 
 quite an admitted axiom, yet they promised to follow the 
 instructions uf their Christian guide. And Boone himself 
 stipulated that he was not to he turned out of the diurch 
 for the occasional epithets — called oaths — which sometimes 
 escaped him, and of which he might he unconscious. It 
 was a fixed habit, and he was too old to correct it. In 
 short, Mr. Jones did not require of his Indian converts 
 any other change of life than to believe in the plan of re- 
 demption he taught, and to conform to the few precepts he 
 strove to impress upon their minds. They might be great 
 warriors and chiefs and at the same time very good Chris- 
 tians. And Boone might go on killing game and scalping 
 his enemies as usual. 
 
 Charles and Julia were silent spectators of the scene, 
 which was solemn and impressive. The Sabbath day was 
 unclouded, and not a breeze ruffled the surface of the water. 
 With a becoming gravity of face, a dignified step, and the 
 song of praise issuing from his mouth, the preacher Avent 
 down into the water ; and, the requisite responses being 
 uttered, and no one forbidding, the ceremony of baptism 
 by immersion was duly performed. 
 
 "Now, Charles," said JuHa, "what good effect will that 
 produce ?" 
 
 " They believe," said Charles. " They rely implicitly 
 upon the truth of what Mr. Jones has spoken. He has 
 said there can be no salvation without baptism, according 
 to the Scriptures. They believe it, and are baptized. There 
 will be no important change in their conduct. My forest 
 mother and sister were ever good and guileless." 
 " And now, Charles, the Thrush is a Christian !" 
 "Yes, but still an Indian. Why do you seem distressed ?" 
 " These terrible rumours !" said she, as they slowly fol- 
 lowed the dripping converts returning to their wigwams. 
 " What is to become of us ? I might have escaped from 
 my captors, but I thought you would soon return with me, 
 and I was impelled by a love of romantic adventure. I 
 thought it would soon be over, and never dreamed of actual 
 danger and real vexations. But they have brought me 
 still farther into the boundless forest, I know not how 
 many hundreds of miles away from " 
 
SECOND SRRIES. 149 
 
 " From wliom, Julia? You have no kindred on earth 
 that you know of, and no better friend than myself." 
 
 " True. But will I not lose my best friend ? Is he not 
 surrounded by enemies ?" 
 
 "We will escape, Julia," said he, in a low tone, (f( r 
 James Girty, the brother of Simon, was, as usual, standing 
 near them, and probably endeavouring to learn the subject 
 of their conversation.) " Mr. Boone," he added, " has 
 planned it, and will accompany us. He has learned that 
 the Indians intend making a hostile visit to Kentucky, and 
 we will be there to receive them." 
 
 "Kentucky! still farther into the Western wilds!" said 
 Julia, with a sigh, which indicated that her love of forest 
 adventure, of which she had often boasted in her letters to 
 Kate Livingston, was rapidly abating. 
 
 " Once there, Julia, we will be free. We will be no 
 longer subjected to the tyrannical caprices of Queen Esther, 
 who, I learn from the Seneca that came in this morning, 
 declares I must either wed my Indian sister or else re- 
 main a prisoner." 
 
 " Will not the Indian maiden and her aunt go with us ?" 
 
 "No. At least such is not the intention. If war ensues, 
 as I fear it will, — for the British agent here has arms, am- 
 munition, trinkets, and money, to distribute gratuitously, 
 and the Americans, not being similarly represented, are 
 looked upon by my silly red brethren with contempt, — they 
 would not be permitted to dwell among us." 
 
 "Then let us go! 1 fear your forest sister will do some 
 dreadful deed." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " She speaks fiercely and gesticulates violently in her 
 dreams." 
 
 " She dreamed of war, — of her brother, no doubt, and 
 thought he was slaughtering her Christian friends. No; 
 she will never injure you. She might have committed 
 violence on her own life, had not Mr. Jones told her it 
 would be a fatal crime and bar her entrance into the 
 perennial paradise." 
 
 "Let us depart immediately!" continued Julia. "Oh, 
 let us go before the grand council of warriors assemble ! 
 1 know they wnll declare war. Indeed, as Mr. Jones said 
 last night, when the party came in from the Monongaliela, 
 
160 WILD WESTERN SCENES; 
 
 their approach announced by the terrible scalp-halloa^ 
 ■which still sounds in my ears, "war has already begun! 
 And the horrid spectacle of human scalps, stretched on 
 hoops, drying in view of our tent! It is too dreadful !" 
 
 " I know it. But control your emotions, Julia. Do not 
 seem agitated and shocked by such exhibitions during the 
 next few days. I did not like to announce the startling 
 tidings that have reached us, for fear we might be be- 
 trayed by our feelings. But it is too true that the toma- 
 hawk has fallen on the heads of our people in some of the 
 frontier settlements, and Mr. Boone is convinced that the 
 Five Nations will carry the Western tribes with them to 
 the British. We must be discreet, and apparently indif- 
 ferent to the occurrences around us ; and soon we will be 
 beyond the reach of our enemies. Be in readiness to fly at 
 any hour of the night. Boone will plan every thing." 
 
 "And will they not pursue us?" 
 
 " Certainly. But our party will number some twenty- 
 five well-armed men, as other prisoners will go with us; 
 and we will be able to keep the foe at bay until we cross 
 the Ohio. Most of the warriors here are, as you see, old 
 men. Boone is advised of the movements of those more 
 active, now lingering on the Little Miami, where they have 
 fallen in with a large herd of buffalo. We will have the 
 start of them, as their runners will give notice of their 
 approach and announce their success. In the mean time 
 we must do nothing to excite suspicion." 
 
 " But why not go at once ? — to-night ?" 
 
 " Some of our men are unarmed. We must contrive to 
 supply the deficiency from the British depot, and Boone will 
 devise the means. We must employ stratagem, and keep 
 the boys and old men in good humour. They are, as you 
 may have observed, exceedingly fond of diverting scenes ; 
 and Boone, though seemingly incapable of smiling himself, 
 is preparing an exhibition for this afternoon which will 
 amuse them. He has had Paddy Pence and Peter Shaver 
 looking at the bloody scalps, and informed them (confi- 
 dentially) that the only sure method of avoiding a similar 
 fate is to be adopted into an Indian family. They have 
 most eagerly consented, and an old squaw, the widow of a 
 Choctaw warrior, has agreed to receive one of them as her 
 husband and the other as a son. The ceremony of iuitia- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 151 
 
 tion will take place this evening before the assembled popu- 
 lation of the village. Boone will be more popular than 
 ever, and they will cause the Englishman to give the adopt^-d 
 couple two good rillcs. And Hugh INIcSwine, though so 
 silent and grave, is heartily co-operating. His Scots will 
 assume the Indian costume, indicating a })urpose to undergo 
 the ceremony of initiation as soon as Indians can be found 
 to adopt them. Poor Van Wiggens would, I believe, pre- 
 fer living among them to returning to his scolding Avife. 
 He, too, will probably be adopted to-day. Go now and 
 cheer my poor sister. Tell her I am much pleased with 
 her, and that I hope our heavenly Father will permit us to 
 dwell together in paradise, never to be separated more." 
 
 Julia had scarcely entered the house of Gentle Moon- 
 light when Charles heard the halloo of a small party of 
 warriors returning from the South. From the sounds, he 
 understood they had a prisoner and one scalp. 
 
 He soon after saw a young man of herculean frame led 
 into the town. He was not made to run the gauntlet, for 
 as yet war had not been formally declared, although it 
 certainly existed. The prisoner's name was Simon Kenton, 
 who, on subsequent occasions, suffered much harsh usage 
 at the hands of the Indians, and has since figured in several 
 romances. But, as this is a plain narrative of facts, we 
 will not make any draughts on the imagination. He was a 
 young man without education, an excellent shot, a good 
 woodsman, a brave scout, honest and generous. But he 
 deemed it no disgrace to steal horses from the Indians, and 
 had just been taken in the act. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 THE CEREMONY OF ADOPTION. 
 
 The procession approached the river, passing by tho 
 skin tents and log houses on its line of march, the route 
 having been planned to please the greatest possible number. 
 The head of the column was led by Diving Duck, (the mean- 
 ing of her Indian name, its orthography forgotten,) who 
 
!52 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 was to adopt Paddy and Peter into her familj. This old 
 S((uaw was a worthless creature, having never lived happily 
 with her husband, and had always been addicted to immo- 
 d'lrate drinking. 
 
 Next to Divmg Duck came Peter Shaver, mounted on his 
 jackass and surrounded by all the boys. Every now and 
 then some one would hold a piece of raw meat to the ass's 
 nose, and then he brayed. This was succeeded by pro- 
 longed laughter, which, beginning with the boys, spread 
 like an epidemic through all classes up to the most stoical 
 octogenarian. 
 
 Paddy followed immediately behind the ass, and was ac- 
 companied by Van Wiggens and his dog. The Scots and 
 other -white prisoners were farther in the rear, serving to 
 lengthen the procession. 
 
 When they arrived on the bank of the river, Peter dis- 
 mounted, and his ass was led away braying by one of the 
 boys having raw meat or pepper-corns. 
 
 "And now," said Paddy, "before we go any furder 
 in this family bisness, I wud like to be towld what I am 
 to be." 
 
 " You are to be an Indian," said Charles, who acted as 
 interpreter. 
 
 " 1 know that, Misther Charles," said Paddy. " But, I 
 mane, what am I to be in the family ? Am I to be the 
 black old Didapper's son or husband?" 
 
 Charles, after speaking to the squaw, said she was not 
 yet prepared to announce the lucky man of her choice. 
 
 "She manes," said Paddy, musing painfully, "to take 
 us both on trial. Tell her, Mr. Charles, I won't go into 
 her family until I know what futting I am to go on." 
 
 " Paddy, she wishes to know the position you would 
 prefer." 
 
 " Position ? Och, she manes sitiation ! Say son, by 
 all manes, and board and mending; I'll saa after the 
 wages widout her assistance." 
 
 " And what would you be, Peter?" asked Charles. 
 
 " I guess any thing rather than be sculped," said Peter. 
 " But you will please make the best bargain for me you 
 can. Although I'd rather be her husband than die at the 
 stake, I rather think I would prefer dying any easy way 
 ihan to marry such an ugly infernal old " 
 
SECOND SERIES. 153 
 
 " IIo-\vl(l yer tongue I" cried Paddy, furiously, " Would 
 ye be afther having that translated till her? "Would ye 
 have her to be scratching yer nasty piebald face here in 
 this company ? To be sure ye Avould ! And thin you think 
 she wouldn't have ye, and be afther taking me, do ye ? 
 And that would be one of yer Yankee tricks, would it ? 
 
 It's dishonest ! it's ungintlenianly ! it's rascality ! to 
 
 take advantage of a rival in that fashion ! And, if ye waa 
 to succeed, I'd pound yer head to a jelly with me two fists. 
 And then to talk about dying in any aisy way ! I would 
 like to know the diiference atwane dying by having the 
 breath burnt out, bled out, drownded out, or physicked out ? 
 Dying aisy, is it?" 
 
 Now, Charles had rapidly translated such portions of this 
 speech as best suited his purpose, which, together with 
 Paddy's menacing attitude and gestures, produced a prodi- 
 gious burst of merriment. Even the young prisoner, Simon 
 Kenton, whose arms were stretched asunder and made fast 
 by thongs to a strong stake that ran across his breast, 
 laughed so heartily (for he had a sound pair of lungs) as to 
 attract general attention. Boone, taking advantage of this, 
 and seeming to be an entire stranger to the tall captive, 
 (although they were intimate friends,) remarked to one of 
 the warriors that no man could laugh without pain wdien 
 bound in that manner ; and, the good-humour of the latter 
 prepondei-ating over his prudence, he drew his knife and 
 liberated the captive's arms. 
 
 Diving Duck, comprehending what had passed between 
 Paddy and Peter, turned her ugly face toward the latter 
 and uttered a torrent of vituperation which it would have 
 been difficult for Ciuirles to render into intelligible English ; 
 but the purport of it could hardly have been mistaken even 
 by a dog. And Van Wiggens's little mongrel cur retreated 
 a few paces and barked at the virago, no doubt detecting 
 some resemblance between her and Mrs. Van Wiggens. 
 
 "And that's the reward you get for blabbing in that 
 undacent way," said Paddy. "• Och ! you ought to be 
 ashamed of yerself !" 
 
 This little speech being made known to the squaw, she 
 approached Paddy with a ghastly grin, meant, no doubt, 
 for a grateful smile, and, taking his hand, called him hci 
 husband. 
 
154 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "What does she mane by that?" asked Paddy. 
 
 " She says," continued Charles, " that she thanks you 
 for resenting the vile aspersions of the Yankee Popcorn, the 
 chief of the asses, and a thousand other pleasant things I 
 am unable to translate in this modest company. And, as 
 a slight manifestation of her gratitude, she is determined to 
 bestow her hand upon you." 
 
 " Murther ! how am I to get out of this scrape? I'll 
 give you a broken head, Misther Pater Shaver, for yer foul 
 play. You're a vile chating rival, and, be the sowl of St. 
 Patrick, ye shall not succade ! Be the powers, ye shall 
 marry her or burn ! Misther Charles, tell 'em to tie me to 
 the stake ; for I'm ready to die, aisy or hard, jist as they 
 plase. I wont be a blackguard savage and the towl of a 
 little fat nose-talking Yankee ! Let us both burn together 
 at the same stake, as mc Catholic ancestors did in the time 
 of Elizabeth, who was nicknamed the Vargin Quane. The 
 Holy Vargin presarve us ! It sames that the whole family 
 of Pences are to be the victims of the women ! Tell 'em 
 to pile up their fagots ! Grane ones will do. The grase 
 of my fat companion will make 'em burn. And when we 
 are both wrapped in the flames. Pater," he continued, 
 doubling his fists and assuming a boxing attitude, " I'll 
 give you a taste of the science by way of dessert to the 
 
 This, too, when interpreted to the Indians, produced 
 peals of laughter, and the old chiefs patted Paddy's back, 
 calling him a brave man. 
 
 " I would have been a dutiful son to ye," continued 
 Paddy, moved to tears, "and maintained ye at yer aise ; 
 and, instead of being grateful, you must be calling me mo- 
 ther names. No ! I won't be the father of any sich a vile 
 varmint!" 
 
 "Paddy!" said Peter, moved by the tears, for they con- 
 vinced him he was in earnest, "oh, Paddy, say no more 
 about burning! I'll save you from that. I'll marry her 
 rather than die. I guess I can manage her. I'll marry 
 her, Paddy !" 
 
 " Then I shall be bound to pay you riverence. And, in 
 the first place, I beg yer pardon for what I have said to 
 your disparagement, and take it all back agin." 
 
 This being rendered into the Indian tongue, Diving Duck 
 
SECOND SERIES. 1[>5 
 
 became more furious than ever, and said thcj should both 
 burn, as she woukl not marry either of them. 
 
 Then Peter, amid shouts of hiughter, got down on his 
 knees and humbly begged her to pardon him and accept his 
 hand. 
 
 " You see what it is," said Paddy, kneeling behind Peter, 
 " fur a woman to have two strings to her bow. Kape at 
 her, Pater; she'll yeald prisently. Depind upon it, she'll 
 not let ye die if she's to lose a husband by it." 
 
 And Peter, persisting, received a blow on the side of hia 
 face which sent him sprawling on the earth. 
 
 " What do ye mane by trating me rispictcd father in that 
 ungintlemanly manner?" cried Paddy, springing up and 
 seizing the old squaw, whom he held securely by the arms 
 in despite of her kicks and cries, to the infinite amusement 
 of the crowd. " If you are to be me mother I must tache 
 ye betther manners. And is this an example to sit before 
 the face of yer childer ? Is this the sort of brading ye 
 would bring yer darlint son up to ? Ye ought to be 
 ashamed of yerself !" 
 
 And the Didapper uttered two words to Paddy's one. 
 But, when he relinquished his hold, Charles announced to 
 the disappointed multitude that the ceremony of fire would 
 have to be substituted for that of water, as Diving Duck 
 would have neither of them for her husband. 
 
 At this juncture Van Wiggens, who had been a contem- 
 plative spectator of the scene, stepped forward and whis- 
 pered to Charles that, although he did not fear burning at 
 the stake half so much as he did the scathinf; ton<2;ue of 
 Mrs. " Wan Viggens," if it would not be bigamy and sub- 
 ject him to the penalty of the law, he was willing to save 
 his two friends from death by becoming himself their 
 father and the husband of the furious squaw. 
 
 When this was announced to Diving Duck, she scrutinized 
 the Dutchman very carefully, and, after walking round 
 tiim as if examining the limbs of a horse, signified her 
 willingness to accept him as a substitute, provided he would 
 whip both of his sons after the wedding. 
 
 To this condition both Paddy and Peter readily con- 
 sented, and the squaw then grasped the hand of her 
 affianced lord. But the little stump-tailed mongrel cur of 
 Van Wiggens seemed to have some objection to the arrange- 
 
156 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 ment, and flew round, barking fiercely at the squaw, who paid 
 no further attention to his violence than to seize him by the 
 back of his neck and cast him over the bank into the river, 
 whence he speedily swam ashore, cowed into submission. 
 
 " Tam her! he thought it was Mrs. WanViggens !" said 
 the Dutchman. 
 
 All the preliminaries being adjusted, six young Indian 
 girls, supposed from their stature to be about midway in 
 their teens, came gliding forward. Each of them grasped 
 a hand of the three candidates for adoption, and led them 
 down the river-bank and along the edge of the water to a 
 gigantic sj^camore, whose broad leaves, though deeply red- 
 dened by the early frosts, yet hung over the stream and 
 intercepted the rays of the descending sun. The great 
 crowd of Indians posted themselves a short distance apart, 
 wdiere they could see the operation of initiation to the 
 greatest advantage. Boone and Charles, however, attended 
 the candidates under the tree. 
 
 " You must submit without resistance," said Boone, ad- 
 dressing the men ; " for, if you do not comply with their 
 demands, you will not be considered perfect Indians." 
 
 "Be the powers," said Paddy, looking to his right and 
 his left, "such cratures as these don't same as if they meant 
 to do us any harm. But, if ye plase, Misther Bone, I'd 
 take it as a favour if you'd tell me what they mane to do 
 wid us in the wather." 
 
 " No matter what : all you have to do is to obey them 
 in every particular," was the reply. 
 
 "And they mane to go in wid us ?" continued Paddy. 
 
 " Certainly," said Charles ; " don't you see they are pre- 
 pared to do so?" 
 
 Paddy examined the costume of the girls, which consisted 
 merely of blankets and narrow breech-cloths. Their leggins 
 and moccasins had been left behind. 
 
 The Indian maids proceeded, according to the usual custom 
 with candidates for adoption, to disencumber the men of 
 their clothing. 
 
 Peter Sliaver, being in Indian costume, was easily dis- 
 robed, — one of the girls removing his blanket, while the 
 other undid his moccasins and leggins, leaving nothing but 
 his breech cloth, — a sort of apron going round the body 
 above the hips and reaching nearly to the knees. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 157 
 
 The girls were exceedingly amused and interested. Pe- 
 ter's corpuleiic}^, and his very Avhite skin wliere the sun had 
 not shone upon it and where the dust of travel had not 
 accumulated, particularly arrested their attention, 
 
 Peter had been so much among the Indians of late, assi- 
 milating with their habits, that he did not think of blushing 
 at the exposure of his neck, shoulders, breast, and knees. 
 
 It was different with Paddy and Van Wiggens. They 
 Bubmitted in silence to the removal of their coats, and even 
 their shirts, and stood with all the indifference they could 
 command, like pugilists prepared for encounter in the lists. 
 
 " Mr. Bone ! Mr. Bone !" whispered Paddy at this stage 
 of the proceedings, " plase tell 'em we haven't got any 
 breech-clouts on." 
 
 They seemed to be aware of this, and proceeded to re- 
 move only the moccasins and leggins, rolling up their 
 breeches, however, and exposing their legs as much as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 " You must submit without complaining," remarked 
 Charles, with a sei'iousness well affected, when the girls 
 again seized their hands and led them toward the edge of 
 the water. 
 
 " Complainin', did ye say?" responded Paddy; "and if 
 it's killing they're going to do, ye may be sure we'll die an 
 aisy death. Mr. Bone, if you are acquainted wid the 
 parents of these girls, you'd do me a favour to bespake one 
 of 'em — and be me faith you may include both — for me, as 
 soon as we are turned to savages. And if there are no 
 praists to marry us, Mr. Jones might do till we could find 
 one." 
 
 " The Indians will let you have as many wiv'es as you 
 can support," said Mr. Boone ; "but the priest would ban 
 you if you had more than one." 
 
 " I know it ! But do ye think he'd curse a man afther 
 he'd turned Indian ? He would marry me to one and I'd 
 marry meself to the other. Like a good Christian, I'd have 
 one lawfully-wedded wife, and, like an Indian, I'd have 
 anither which the praistd have no business to meddle 
 wid. It's forward, is it, me darlints? On wid ye ! I can 
 Btand in as dape water as any o' ye," he continued, as he 
 was led into the stream. 
 
 They waded out until the water rose to the shoulders of 
 
16S WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 the girls, and then commenced the process of scrubbing. 
 Each of the maidens had taken into the water the cob of 
 an ear of Indian corn, with which thej rasped the breasts 
 and limbs of the white men. 
 
 "Mr. Bone," cried Paddy, "what d'ye think they're 
 rubbing us for ? There's no flays under the water to bite 
 us." 
 
 "But dere's a tam craAvfish biting my leg," said Van 
 Wiggens, "and I Avish dey'd rub furder down." 
 
 "You needn't rub me so hard," said Peter to his at- 
 tendants. "I'm almost an Indian now. Don't you know 
 they made me a chief?" 
 
 "Popcorn! chief!" said one of his girls, who could speak 
 a few English Avords. 
 
 "Murtiier!" cried Paddy. 
 
 "Are they hurting you?" asked Charles. 
 
 " Hurting, is it ? It's tackling one to death ! "What are 
 they rubbing us for?" 
 
 "Ask them," said Boone ; " they can answer in English, 
 and have been taught our language for the purpose of ex- 
 plaining such things." 
 
 " My most loA'ely and beautiful miss, — and there's a 
 charming pair o' ye, as much alike as two cherries, — be 
 plased to tell me what're ye rubbing the small of me back 
 for?" 
 
 "Wash AA'hite blood away," Avas the answr.- 
 
 "White blood, is it? Be my sowl, yere mistaken, for 
 it's as red as a rose." 
 
 " White man's blood — wash away — Indian's blood come." 
 
 "Now I understhand ! And ye're a charming one to do 
 it! And she spakes as good English as Paddy himself ! 
 And Avon't you be me SAvate little wife? Och, murther!" 
 cried he, turning to the other, "you naadn't tear me flesh 
 away, for I meant to take both of ye." 
 
 "Dey ton't knoAv enough of English to scold," said the 
 contemplative Van Wiggens, " and I'll marry one too. Do 
 you scold?" he asked of one of his scrubbers. 
 
 " Me no talk. Diving Duck talk much," she replied, 
 smiling mischievously. 
 
 " Tam te old Titapper !" said Van Wiggens ; " I forgot 
 her. She's an old granny of sixty. I'm only dirty, and 
 Mrs. Wan Viggens is dirty-two. I vant a young vile " 
 
SECOND SERIES. lt'S9 
 
 "Why are you so silent, retcr ?" asked Charles, ob- 
 Berving the Connecticut man plunged in deep abstraction. 
 
 " 1 guess I'll stop at that," said Peter, endeavouring to 
 thrust aside his attendants. "Maybe there's more in this 
 operation than we are aAvare of. By water our sins are 
 washed away, and we are made Christians. This may be 
 an invention of the devil to wash away Christianity and 
 make us hisn." 
 
 " Och, murther !" cried Paddy. "Begone, ye divil's 
 imps ! 'scat, ye witches !" continued he, and by a powerful 
 efiort succeeded in thrusting the girls momentarily away 
 from him, to the great diversion of the spectators on the 
 bank, whose silence hitherto indicated that they were 
 awaiting some such scene. 
 
 "Me wash good! Hold still!" said one of the girls, 
 returning. 
 
 "No! 'scat! Begone! or I'll drownd ye like blind pup- 
 pies. It's a contrivance to sell our sowls for the price of 
 our bodies ! And 1 wont be a savage widout I can be a 
 civilized Catholic Christian too." 
 
 "Oh, you may be a Christian," said Charles, "if you 
 can be content to put up with one wife." 
 
 " I'll do it, and defy the divil !" said Paddy; " and I'll 
 draw lots betwixt 'em. Ilillo !" he continued, seeing the 
 girls dragging him and his companions into still deeper 
 water. " Don't do that ! It's up to me breast now, and 
 it'll soon be over yer heads. It wouldn't be safe, me 
 darlints, to go in ony daaper. Ilillo, I say ! It's up to me 
 chin, and the divil's daughters are swamming like bavers. 
 Stop, 1 tell ye ! Would ye drownd yer future husband: 
 I can't swame ! I tell ye I can't swanie !" And when 
 Paddy uttered this earnest protestation he had to hold 
 back his head to keep his nose above water. 
 
 " Wash all white blood out ! Wash head too !" said the 
 girls ; and, making a simultaneous effort, they succeeded at 
 the same moment in pushing the heads of all three beneath 
 the surface. Then, springing nimbly aside, (for they were 
 skill il swimmers,) they laughed very heartily, while the 
 spectators on the shore made the welkin ring with theii 
 plaudits. 
 
 "I guess that'll do, won't it ?" cried Peter, popping up 
 again and expelling a stream of water from his mouth. 
 
160 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "Murtlier !" cried Paddy, rising, puffing and floundering 
 like a porpoise. " Me swate lovely gals !" said lie, after 
 succeeding in fixing his toes in the sand at the bottom, and 
 keeping his mouth and nose an inch above the surface, but 
 unable to see the shore, and incapable of proceeding in any 
 direction TNithout danger of submersion, "och, me swato 
 cratures, I'll marry ayther of ye, or both thegither, us 
 soon as ye plase, if ye'll only pull me out o' this !" 
 
 "Tarn dem !" roared the Dutchman, rising the last of 
 the three, and, being able to swim, struck for the shore. 
 But he was seized by his attendants and forcibly thrust 
 under again. 
 
 " Tarn der skins !" he continued, rising again and facing 
 his tormentors. They seized his hands, and he endea- 
 voured to kick them. But at every attempt to do so they 
 thrust his head under, amid shouts from the whole popula- 
 tion of the town assembled on the bank. 
 
 There was one witness to this struggle, however, who 
 did not remain an idle spectator. This was Watch, Van 
 Wiggens's faithful little mongrel cur. He leaped into the 
 stream and swam to the rescue of his master. But, before 
 he could reach him, he came near forfeiting his life ; for a 
 young brother of one of the girls aimed an arrow at his 
 head, which grazed his nose ; and he was fixing another to 
 the string when one of the chiefs snatched the bow away. 
 The girls themselves did not fear the dog. 
 
 "Make Indian dog too," said one of them, when Watch 
 exposed his teeth. 
 
 " He'll bite !" said Van Wiggens. 
 
 " Wash white man's blood out of dog too," said the girl, 
 and the next moment she dived beneath the surface. An 
 instant after, Watch uttered a sharp cry and disappeared. 
 
 "Dey arc de teiffle's taughters temselves !" said Van 
 Wiggens. 
 
 "He's Indian dog now," said the girl, rising, after 
 several moments of breathless suspense, during which it was 
 generally feared poor Watch had descended too deeply 
 and remained too long under the water ever to rise again. 
 "He won't bite Indian now," she continued, holding the 
 almost lifeless animal's nose above the surface. " He 
 won't die," said she, reversing the body and causing th 
 water to flow out of his mouth. And, when animation r 
 
a- 'y V 
 
 
 
 
 THE CEREMONY OF BAPTISM IN AN INDIAN FAMlLTv— P. lO. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 161 
 
 turned, poor Watch, released, paddled back to the shore in 
 piteous submission, and did not open his mouth again. 
 
 "Aha! me darlints !" cried Paddy, watching an oppor- 
 tunity, and seizing both of his girls round their waists, 
 " I've got yc now ! We'll sink or swame thegether ! If you 
 can howld your breaths the longest under the wather, you'll 
 find Paddy Pence can squeeze the hardest above it, and 
 he'll die with his death-grip upon ye !" 
 
 The Indians on the bank yelled with delight, and the 
 girls begged to be released. 
 
 "Divil the bit !" cried Paddy. "I'll saa ye at the bot- 
 tom first ! Will ye be me squaws ? Answer me that, my 
 darlints." 
 
 "Must ask mother in a basket," was the reply. The 
 mode of declaration among the Indians is to leave a present 
 in a basket at the tent of the girl's mother. 
 
 " In a basket, is it ? No ! it's in the strame ! And ye 
 must answer for yerselves, and I'll fax the mother afther- 
 ward. Onyhow, ye can jist let me have a kiss or two to 
 sale the bargain;" and Paddy, in despite of their cries and 
 struggles, kissed them repeatedly, while the spectators 
 greeted him with cheering shouts. 
 
 Van Wiggens, following the example of his dog and of 
 Peter Shaver, submitted to the will and pleasure of his at- 
 tendants, and was glad to find that when he ceased to make 
 sport for them they ceased to torment him. 
 
 This ceremony lasted more than an hour, and was ter 
 minated by one of the old men, a sachem, who approached 
 the water's edge, leading the old squaw into whose family 
 the men were to be received. Some words of investiture 
 were uttered during the profound silence that ensued when 
 the girls led the washed candidates to the shore. They 
 were to the effect that the adopted Indians must forget that 
 they ever were white men, and love and honour none but 
 Indians. They were to hunt game in time of peace, and 
 to steal horses and scalp their enemies in time of war. 
 Van Wiggens's dog was to watch at the door of his wig- 
 wam while Diving Duck hoed the corn in the garden ; 
 and he besought his new brother not to beat his squaw so 
 much as her first husband had done. 
 
 The Dutchman, who had looked with dread and aversion 
 on his second Mrs. Van Wiggens, plucked new spirits upon 
 
 ]4* 
 
162 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 learning that among the Indians husbands were allowed to 
 whip their wives and be masters of their own households. 
 And without the least delay he ordered his wife to prepare 
 a dozen roasting-ears for his dinner, which being trans- 
 lated by Charles, the old squaw went away grumbling, 
 doubtless to obey the command. 
 
 Then the next thing to be done was the assuming of the 
 Indian costume by Paddy and tbe Dutchman. The latter 
 objected to having any of his hair cut off, while Paddy was 
 for having his head entirely denuded. He had a deadly 
 aversion to scalp-locks. Boone and Charles superintended 
 that portion of the ceremony, and in a very short time the 
 two new Indians — one Dutch and the other Irish — were 
 strutting proudly through the streets. 
 
 But Paddy and Peter saw no more of the girls that day. 
 Nor could they form a matrimonial alliance, according to 
 the lex lion scripta of the tribe, without the concurrence 
 of their mothers. Nor could Van Wiggens, in his capacity 
 of the head of a family, cede away lands without the sanc- 
 tion of his spouse. Thus, in civil transactions, and parti- 
 cularly in hereditary matters, such as successions to titles 
 and estates, the squaws performed a most important part. 
 But, if the husband could do nothing without the permission 
 of his wife, he might beat her if she displeased him,— that 
 is, if he possessed the physical ability to do so ; if not, she 
 might beat him. 
 
 During, the dusk of the deepening twilight, Boone and 
 Charles, who still lingered on the margin of the river, 
 espied a slight movement in a tuft of blackberry-bushes at 
 the edge of the embankment and not exceeding six paces 
 from where they sat. A moment after, they beheld a man 
 slowly and noiselessly lift his head and gaze toward the 
 village. They grasped their knives, for they had been 
 talking of their meditated escape, determined, if it were an 
 Indian Avho had been listening, to prevent him from frus- 
 trating their plans by taking his life, as they considered 
 Buch a sacrifice justifiable when necessary for their own 
 salvation. But they were relieved on seeing the man ap- 
 proach them. It was Kenton, who had succeeded in secret- 
 ing himself while the Indians were enjoying their sport, 
 with tlie intention to effect his escape as soon as it grew dark ; 
 but, fortunately, hearing the project of Boone and Charles, 
 
SECOND SERIES. 163 
 
 he wisely and nobly relinquished his purpose of immediate 
 flight. He knew his disappearance would subject the rest 
 of the prisoners to a stricter vigilance, and might cause the 
 death of some of them. 
 
 "You are a noble fellow !" said Charles, upon learning 
 his motive. 
 
 "And you shall escape with us," said Boone. 
 
 "Yes — never fear me ! ' said Kenton. "I'm harder to 
 hold than an eel. They're in a good humour now. I 
 didn't want any of 'em to see I had hid, though ! The 
 devil can soon get into 'em." 
 
 "And now, when you return voluntarily with us," said 
 Boone, "their suspicion will be lulled." 
 
 "I thought of that," said Kenton, sitting on the root of 
 the sycamore beside them. "Let's wait till they miss me 
 and give the yell. There it is now ! I knew it ! They'd've 
 given me a hard race ! They're coming ! Now let us 
 meet them." 
 
 They did so, and the warriors patted Simon on the back, 
 and said, "You honest man; but mustn't steal Indian's boss. 
 Don't be hoss-steal ; don't be dam white man." 
 
 The Indians generally can speak enough of our language 
 to make themselves understood ; and they first learn how 
 to swear. They have no oaths in their own language. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE FLIGHT — THE BATTLE — PADDY'S EXPLOITS. 
 
 Bartholomew Calvin, after sitting some time gazing 
 in silence at the handsome features of the Indian maiden 
 who had innocently captured his heart and surrendered her 
 own to another, rose up moodily and strode with melan- 
 choly aspect into the wigwam of his relative, the ancient 
 Tammany. 
 
 The old chief beckoned him to be seated, and pointed 
 toward the pipe and tobacco. To his surprise, the young 
 man declined smoking. He then ordered one of his wives 
 to set some bear's-meat and honey before his nephew 
 
164 WILD WESTERN SCENES. 
 
 These he merely tasted, and then, sitting at his uncle's 
 feet, said he had come thither to receive his counsel. Hff 
 explained to him the painful condition of his heart and his 
 sentiments regarding the war. 
 
 " Listen !" said the old chief, leaning his feeble form 
 against the wall of his house, which was hung with skins, 
 and scanning his attenuated limbs, shrunken with age and 
 palsied with debility. " I have not many words to speak ; 
 but my sister's son shall have them all. I am old. Yet the 
 days of my youth seem as yesterday. So the life of an old 
 man is but short. I look at my skin-covered bones and 
 laugh" (and his wrinkled face was then beaming with bright 
 smiles) "with the children that mock at me. They will 
 soon be placed away, and then I will tread the great hunt- 
 ing-grounds, where there is no age, no disease, no dying. 
 Listen, sister's son ! We pass like a feather blown away. 
 Why should we wound and kill those people whom the 
 Great Spirit sent to our shores ? Can we kill them all and 
 drive them hence ? No ; it is the voice of God. The 
 Christian's God is the Indian's God. The Indian cannot 
 oppose him. The Indian may fight for his lands and die 
 with honour ; but he must lose his lands, and then what is 
 the honour of this world to him when he dwells in another ? 
 You sigh for the Brown Thrush. It is well. When the 
 White Eagle spreads his wings and passes the mountain, 
 she will charm thee with her song. Then Brandt will 
 come, fierce as the wolf-dog and as bloody. Go not with 
 him. Obey the voice of God. It speaks in the acts of the 
 white men. They are like the leaves of the trees or the 
 stars of the heavens. They cannot be counted. She will 
 go with you. She was baptized because she loved the 
 Christian youth. She will follow him. But he will have 
 another, fairer to behold than the Wild Thrush. He cannot 
 have two. Then you may have one. Go to Sagorighwi- 
 yogstha," (Jersey, Doer of Justice.) " Die there in peace. 
 Eat, wear warm clothes, sleep well, and be as happy as you 
 can, and ever true and honest during life's short day. Then 
 die. Death is only sleep. Awake in paradise. Meet me 
 there. My sister's son, I have no more to say." 
 
 Calvin had listened intently, and every word of his an- 
 cient relative seemed engraven on his mind. 
 
 He withdrew and strode into the camp of the white peo- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 166 
 
 pie. '^harles led him into his own tent, where none could 
 intrude. 
 
 "You will not betray me, I know," said Charles; "and 
 therefore I have brou<]fht you hither to make known our 
 secret. The white prisoners will escape to-morrow night, 
 and I shall go with them. Will you remain ?" 
 
 " Does the Thrush go ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then 1 will remain." 
 
 " Not, 1 hope, to follow Brandt ?" 
 
 *' No. But 1 shall probably follow thee with his sister." 
 
 *' Alas ! what will be her feelings when she learns I have 
 fled from her V Calvin, I have never loved her as you do. 
 My affection for her is strong, but it is only that of a 
 brother, i shall pass many sleepless nights thinking of my 
 poor devoted forest sister. She loves me as you would 
 have her love you. She is very beautiful and good, Cal- 
 vin. And when I am gone, and married to another, my 
 friend, watch over my forest sister ! Do not let her be 
 destroyed. Bring her to the Jerseys, and, when she sees 
 that men there never have two wives, she will love thee." 
 
 For an instant the fire of a long line of noble chieftains 
 glimmered in the dark eye of the Indian youth and was 
 then engulfed forever in darkness. The words of his uncle 
 still sounded in his ears, and the haughty reply another 
 might have uttered died within him. Without speaking, 
 he pressed the hand of Charles and withdrew. 
 
 During the following day quite a number of the Eastern 
 chiefs arrived, and a great many skins were placed round 
 the council-fire, (always kept burning,) to be in readiness 
 for the assembling of the representatives of the nations. 
 
 Logan, the great Mingo chief, strode through the village 
 in sullen gloom, and once paused before the tent of Gentle 
 Moonlight and gazed steadily at the fair face of Julia. 
 She grasped his hand with tears in her eyes, for the sad 
 tale of the murder of his family — wife and children, even 
 his little pet pappoose, two years old — had often been 
 repeated in her presence. And he did not speak. His 
 tongue could not find utterance. But he pointed toward 
 th^ East, and turned away. Julia understood him, and 
 became more impatient than ever to depart. 
 
 In the afternoon Queen Esther's drum was heard. The 
 
166 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 blood of the prisoners ran cold in their veins. Preceded 
 by the music, and followed by her guards, the implacable 
 old woman first visited the grand-council-chamber, and 
 upon every skin she placed small pictures of the massacre 
 of Cornstalk and his son Elenipsico, and Red Hawk, and 
 the wife and babes of Logan. These had been engraved in 
 Canada, under the direction of the Johnstons and Butlers, 
 for distribution among the Indians. Then she walked 
 round the council-fire three times, chanting one of her in- 
 fernal songs, and casting brimstone into the flame. 
 
 Withdrawing from the council-chamber, she hastened to 
 the house which had been prepared for her reception, and 
 summoned the ancient chiefs of the Senecas to appear 
 before her. 
 
 "My children," said she, "why have I seen the pale- 
 face prisoners walking about with guns in their hands? 
 Are we not at war ? Do they permit their Indian prisoners 
 to go at large ? Where are the chiefs that were betrayed 
 at Point Pleasant ? Who knows that before another sun 
 "we shall not be attacked in our wigwams?" 
 
 Ughs, shrugs, and grimaces, followed this interrogation. 
 
 "What shall we do?" she continued. "We are to have 
 war. The Great Spirit has told me so in the council-house. 
 Then we shall kill our prisoners. But, before that time, 
 suppose our prisoners kill us?" 
 
 The Senecas brandished their tomahawks and uttered 
 fierce threats. 
 
 " We will not permit them, my children. To-morrow 
 morning, at early dawn, we will kill them all ! That will 
 be war ! Then let the Oneidas, and Delawares, and Shaw- 
 nees, and Cherokees, smoke the peace-pipe with the Ameri- 
 cans, if they will!" 
 
 " Warriors!" said Red Jacket, who had followed Queen 
 Esther, and anticipated some such sanguinary proposition, 
 " hear what I have to say. Wait till all tlie chiefs and 
 sachems, and the grand-sachem of the Five Nations, have 
 met together and deliberated. That is all I advise." And 
 he sat down. 
 
 " The Eastern prisoners are mine," said the old Queen, 
 "and I may decide their fate." 
 
 "The sister and aunt of Thayendanegea are among 
 them," said Red Jacket. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 167 
 
 " They shall live," said the other. 
 
 "The White Eagle, Thayendanegea's white brother, ia 
 among them." 
 
 "If he will not wed Brandt's sister, Brandt will not 
 mourn for him. He must die, if he will not marry and 
 live with us." 
 
 "The Delaware youth, the son of Tammany's sister, is 
 among them." 
 
 " lie shall live, and marry Brandt's sister, when "White 
 Eagle is dead." 
 
 "I have spoken," said Red Jacket. "I have no more 
 to say. Let my words be remembered." 
 
 The old Queen then dismissed the chiefs, without giving 
 them any further directions. She relied upon their desire 
 of vencreance for the loss of their brothers on the Alle- 
 ghany. 
 
 It was near midnight. The fires in the wigwams had 
 ceased to cast up their flames, and the smouldering embera 
 threw a deep red glare over the sleeping forms of the 
 Indians. They sleep as heartily as they eat, and repose is 
 as necessary to them as food. Like the fowls of the air, 
 when darkness comes their eyelids grow heavy. They do 
 not have sentinels. Nor do they often attack in the night. 
 
 It was difl'erent with the whites. They were lying very 
 still, it is true, with their fires burning low. But their eyes 
 were open, and each impatient to rise at the signal and be 
 gone. 
 
 Boone, Kenton, and Hugh McSwine were with Charles 
 in his little tent communicating with the large one which 
 contained the rest of the male prisoners. They were lying 
 on their buffalo robes, speaking in whispers. The horses 
 which were to convey them to the Ohio River were in readi- 
 ness, a few hundred paces from the village, held by one of 
 the faithful Scots, whose absence from the prisoners' wig- 
 warn had not been observed by the Indian who hastily 
 counted the captives at night. And Julia had assured them 
 that she would be able to rise and leave her tent without 
 awaking her companions. 
 
 It was now near the time of departure, and Charles 
 grew impatient for the signal Julia was to give. The 
 curtain of buflfalo-skins hanging between them and the 
 large wigwam containing the rest was slightly agitated. 
 
168 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 Charles started up, but instantly resumed his recumbent 
 position, knowing that Julia would not come from that 
 direction, stepping over the bodies of the men. 
 
 Again the skin was moved, followed by a low sound, like 
 the chirp of a cricket, and Hugh McSwine sprang up 
 hastily. 
 
 " I dinna' think it can be him," said Hugh, "but it's like 
 the chiel's midnight-signal. If it be you, Skippie," he con- 
 thiued, " come in, mon !" 
 
 The skin was thrust aside, and the whole party rose 
 to their feet, with the bright blades of their brandished 
 knives reflecting the dim red glare of the sinking embers. 
 The form which stood before them was in the Seneca cos- 
 tume. 
 
 " Whisper low !" said Boone, grasping the intruder by 
 the neck with his left hand, " or I'll let out your blood in 
 the ashes." 
 
 "Loosen your gripe, mon," said Hugh; "don't you see 
 his eyes are popping out ? He's strangled, mon, and can't 
 speak." 
 
 " He may give the alarm-halloo," said Boone, staring at 
 his unresisting victim. 
 
 "No," said Charles. "A spy would not have obtruded 
 upon us in this manner. Release him, Mr. Boone." 
 
 Boone did so, and the poor fellow sank down and 
 breathed heavily, for he had been nearly suffocated. 
 
 " Skippie !" at length was uttered by him, as he placed 
 a number of letters in Charles's hand. 
 
 " It is Skippie !" said Charles. " Never was any one so 
 perfectly disguised ! And he comes from my father. But 
 I have no time now to read the letters," he added, thrust- 
 ing them in his bosom. 
 
 " Bundle outside," said Skippie, pointing in the direction. 
 
 " What is it ? Who is it for ?" demanded Charles. 
 
 " Miss Julia," was the reply. 
 
 " Return and take charge of it, Skippie. And follow us 
 wlien we leave here to-night." 
 
 " Leave to-night ?" asked Skippie, with unwonted energy. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Good !" he said, with apparent satisfaction. 
 
 "Why?" asked Charles. 
 
 *' Dead to-morrow !" 
 
SECOND SERIES. 169 
 
 This announcement produced, as was natural, great in- 
 ternal commotion ; and Hugh, knowing the shortest method 
 of obtaining information from his unique countryman, soon 
 learned that Skippie had been an auditor at the brief con- 
 ference held in Queen Esther's wigwam. The intelligence 
 of her diabolical design filled the breasts of the prisoners 
 with fierce indignation. Hugh proposed taking her life 
 before departing ; but this was objected to as hazardous 
 and unnecessary. Hugh, however, was permitted to watch 
 the sleeping guards of Queen Esther who had been sta- 
 tioned near the wigwam in readiness for the bloody work in 
 the morning. They were wrapped in bear-skins, and lay 
 under a persimmon-tree, and Skippie had been compelled 
 to step over some of their bodies to reach the tent. There 
 was, however, another place of egress prepared for such a 
 contingency. Nevertheless, Skippie's information was well- 
 timed, for the presence of the savages under the tree had 
 not been discovered, and the escaping party would have 
 stumbled upon them. 
 
 A handful of sand thrown against the tent was the joy- 
 ful signal Charles had been waiting for, and the moment he 
 heard it his keen knife glided noiselessly down the canvas. 
 He stepped out, followed by Kenton, who was to precede 
 him to the place where the horses had been concealed. It 
 was a starlight night, and the form of Julia, easily dis- 
 cernible, was encircled by the arm of Charles, who led her 
 Boftly away in the direction the guide was pursuing. 
 
 Boone brought up the rear, leading 'the prisoners, while 
 Hugh and Skippie lingered behind to watch the sleeping 
 Senecas. 
 
 They moved in silence, or spoke in low whispers ; and so 
 still was the night that they could hear the occupants 
 snoring within several of the houses they passed. They 
 were just opposite the last house, and supposed there was 
 no further danger of interruption and discovery, when a 
 man ran out from the hut and stumbled against Charles 
 and Julia. Boone's knife was uplifted, and in the act of 
 descending, when his arm was arrested on recognising a 
 well-known voice. 
 
 " Tam her ! Trunk ! Snoring all te time 1 Hello !" ho 
 continued, when jostling Charles ; and, seeing Boone's 
 
 16 
 
170 WILD WESTERN SCEKES: 
 
 raised arm, cried, "Ton't! I'm VIll Wan Viggens, and 
 — whore's my dog? Here, Yatch !' 
 
 "And, be the powers!" said Paddy, following, "do ye 
 take me for yer falthy cur ? But I don't wonder at it. 
 You've been drinking, A pretty pass I've come to ! A 
 savage mother so drunk she can't stand up, and a Dutch 
 daddy who don't know me from his dog ! Here's yer dog 
 behint me. He don't know ye when ye're disguised with 
 gicli abominable bad liquor." 
 
 " Hush ! Be silent, Paddy !" said Charles, placing his 
 hand on the amazed Indianized Hibernian's mouth. 
 
 " Howly Mother ! Is it you, Misther Charles?" asked 
 Paddy, in a half whisper. "And where are ye going? 
 And mayn't I go wid ye ?" 
 
 "Yes. Follow and be silent." 
 
 "I'll go mit you too," said Van Wiggens. "I'm sick of 
 being te husband of tat drunken old squaw." 
 
 "Fall in and be silent," said Boone. 
 
 "When they reached the horses (and Kenton had by some 
 inscrutable means contrived to have not only the best ani- 
 mals of the Indians, but an extra number of them collected 
 together) they all prepared to mount, being upward of 
 twenty in number, which included several prisoners who 
 had been captured in the West. 
 
 Simon Kenton, the tall, broad-shouldered young man, 
 who had been often in the hands of the Indians, and w^ho 
 was beloved by them, because, like Boone, he was brave 
 and generous, was quite as familiar with the country on 
 both sides of the Ohio, and on the Scioto, as any of the 
 red warriors themselves. He made Paddy and the-Dutch- 
 man mount two of the supernumerary horses he had intended 
 to lead. Much time was consumed in extricating some of 
 the animals from the thicket, and Boone evinced a degree 
 of impatience, fearing that Kenton's eagerness to secure 
 horses might cost them dearly. 
 
 When every thing was properly adjusted, the cavalcade 
 moved off in a brisk pace in the direction of Paint Creek. 
 But before they had gone far they were startled by the 
 awful voice of Peter Shaver's jackass in the Indian town. 
 He brayed most discordantly, and the hills reverberated the 
 Bound. 
 
 "Somebody's been kilt," said Paddy; "for Pater's ass 
 
SECOND SERIES. 171 
 
 uiver brays widout smelling blood, I hope, Misther 
 Charles," he continued, in a lower tone, " it was none 
 of us." 
 
 " It was not you, Paddy, nor I," said Julia, smiling. 
 
 " Oclu Blessed Vargin ! and it's you, is it. Miss Julia? 
 I'd know yer voice the darkest night that iver shone I 
 And where's the t'other little swateheart ?" 
 
 *' One is enough, Paddy," said Charles. 
 
 *' Enough, is it ? Yes, and, be the powers, it's often one 
 too many. And Van Waggens had one too many at home, 
 and he must get another ! But it's glad I am to saa you 
 have got rid of one, and she a wild savage !" 
 
 " Mush, Paddy!" said Julia, sharply. " She is a gentle 
 creature, whom I love as a sister." 
 
 " Thrue enough for you. Miss Julia ! and was she not 
 Misther Charles's Indian sister, and won't she be yours 
 when you arc " 
 
 Paddy's words were arrested by a sudden commotion be- 
 hind, caused by the arrival of Hugh McSwine and Skippie, 
 who came up at a gallop. 
 
 "Hugh!" said Charles, gazing steadily at the excited 
 countenance of the Scot, for they were now crossing a 
 small prairie, and the stars were shining brightly, "you 
 remained behind. Is that not the solution of the loud 
 braying?" 
 
 "I did not see the ass," said Hugh, equivocating. 
 
 "Let me see your hand, Hugh." 
 
 Hugh held it out silently. It was covered with blood, as 
 was also the sleeve of his buckskin hunting-shirt. 
 
 "It was wrong, I fear! — very wrong; and we may 
 repent it. There can be no peace now. And they will 
 all join the British. I'm glad Mr. Jones determined to 
 escape with us. If he had remained, as was his intention 
 yesterday, he would have been lost. To-morrow, the first 
 white man they see, if it be not one of the infamous rene- 
 gades, will be tomahawked or burned at the stake. How 
 did you accomplish it? Who did you strike?" 
 
 "I dinna' ken their names," said Hugh. "But my 
 dirk " 
 
 ^'•TJieir names. More than one, then?" 
 
 " Three. Skippie led the way. They were to fall upon 
 us in the morning with tomahawk and scalping-knife. 
 
172 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 That heated my Mude. The guard set over us ^wil] never 
 see the dawn of djsy I" 
 
 "Tervibk-"' said Julia, leaning forward on her horse, 
 and striving to shut out the horrible picture from her 
 imagination. 
 
 "Did they alarm the village?" asked Boone, whose 
 quick ear had caught the purport of Hugh's Avords. 
 
 " They never spoke a word, mon ! There was only a 
 whizzing gushing noise about their throats, a kick or two, 
 and they were as still as ever. When Hugh McSwine has 
 one hand on a foeman's neck, and his dirk in the other, 
 there are never any words or screams." 
 
 "But the ass?" , 
 
 " De'il tak the ass ! .1 vowed to cut his throat if I met 
 wi' him again ! But I didn't see him. He was biting the 
 hazel-bushes round the tent, and when he smelt the blude 
 he ran away squalling as if the de'il were at his heels !" 
 
 "And did he not rouse the Indians?" asked Charles. 
 
 " Skippie and I waited to see. Some did come out and 
 gaze in the dark. But the ass had moved some distance 
 from the dead men, who could tell no tales." 
 
 " Then why should we hasten so fast ?" asked Julia. 
 
 *' We heard the women screaming," said Hugh. 
 
 "Enough!" cried Charles. "Our escape has been dis- 
 covered ! We cannot conceal our trail. We must fly with 
 the utmost speed. There can be no rest for you, my Julia, 
 until we pass the Ohio. I hope you can bear the 
 fatigue !" 
 
 " Oh yes, I can bear it," said she. 
 
 They increased their pace to the utmost, and the unerr- 
 ing guidance of Kenton kept them in the right direction. 
 Boone was silent during the remainder of the night, riding 
 by the side of Hugh and just behind Charles and Julia. 
 
 Charles, being familiar with the habits of the savages, 
 informed Julia that their pursuers would not start on their 
 trail until daylight, and could not possibly overtake them 
 before they reached the Ohio River, some fifty miles dis- 
 tant, if they met with no delay and could keep their horses 
 going until the next day at noon. And Kenton, keeping 
 a little in advance, but within speaking distance, informed 
 them with a chuckle that the fleetest horses had been taken 
 from the Indians, and those they could not take had been 
 
SECOND SERIES. 173 
 
 let Iccje in the woods, and might perhaps follow them 
 without riders. 
 
 Neither Boone nor Charles, however, seemed to attach 
 80 much importance to the agency of horses as Kenton did. 
 They were aware that the Indian himself could run for 
 days without apparent fatigue, and that he could cros3 
 ravines which equestrians must pass round, and traverse 
 swamps in the direct line of march where horses, if they 
 did not deviate, would stick fast in the mud. Yet they did 
 not suppose they could be overtaken if their flight met with 
 no interruption. But was it not likely they would fall in 
 with some of the hunting-parties continually going into 
 and returning from Kentucky ? They were certainly beset 
 with dangers on every hand, and it was not a proper time 
 to be counting gains in the item of stolen horses. 
 
 The first interruption was caused b3^Van Wiggens's dog, 
 which barked piteously at every leap, and began to lose 
 ground. His master said he could not leave him behind, 
 nor did he believe he could follow their trail. Boone 
 reined in his steed and fell back to where the dog was yelp- 
 ing, and, leaning over the side of his horse, succeeded in 
 grasping poor Watch by the tail, and lifted him up before 
 him. The dog licked his hand in gratitude. 
 
 At early dawn Paddy begged them to stop and have 
 something to eat. He said Miss Julia must be suffering 
 with hunger, being unwilling to confess his own weakness. 
 But Julia declared she could not and would not take any 
 meat until they had reached a place of safety. 
 
 Charles, however, snatched some wild fruit as they rode 
 through the thickets, which sufficed both for the maiden 
 and himself. But Van Wiggens had an intolerable thirst, 
 for he had been induced to drink some of his squaw's miser- 
 able fire-water, furnished by the British sutler. This, too, 
 was partially allayed by Boone, who, throwing himself un- 
 der the neck of his horse, dipped up water from the small 
 streams they were occasionally dashing through. The poor 
 Dutch Indian drank a little of this while in motion, and 
 spilled more, which he wept over. 
 
 About the middle of the forenoon, and when Kenton 
 was promising in a few hours more to show them the cliffs 
 of the Ohio, the party halted abruptly, most of them with 
 painfully-throbbing hearts. On an eminence in the prairie 
 
174 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 through which they were passing, and in the line of march 
 directly before them, they beheld a company of some forty 
 Indians. They seemed to be returning from a hunting 
 expedition, as their horses were laden with buffalo-meat. 
 
 "Will they attack us?" asked Julia. 
 
 "I think they will !" said Kenton, whose quick eye had 
 instantly computed their superior number. " But we can 
 whip 'em ! I'll have a scalp for every horse they take I*' 
 
 Charles perceived that the Indians were astonished at 
 the apparition of such a cavalcade. Most of the whites — 
 and they seemed themselves to have forgotten it — were 
 not only habited as Indians, but painted like them also. 
 But their mode of sitting on horseback and manner of 
 riding, even at the distance of several hundred yards, could 
 not long deceive the hunting-party as to the true nature 
 of their quality. Himself, however, and Kenton and 
 Boone, might counterfeit the Indian without liability to 
 detection ; and so the three, after giving certain directions 
 to Hugh, advanced toward the opposite party. 
 
 Three of the Indians came at full gallop to meet them. 
 They were Senecas. In answer to their inquiry, Charles 
 said his men were a party of adopted prisoners going to 
 Kentucky to hunt buffalo. 
 
 The chief who had addressed him said all that was very 
 good, and asked if all the prisoners had been adopted with- 
 out running the gauntlet. 
 
 Charles said he believed some were retained for the 
 torture, and had been taken to Sandusky, where they 
 would probably be burned at the stake, as their captor8 
 had painted them black. 
 
 The chief asked if they had not scalped and burned 
 " Captain Kenton, a horse-steal rascal, d white man !" 
 
 Kenton made an involuntary movement, as if to cock 
 his gun, but was checked by Boone. 
 
 Charles said they had not yet decided his fate, nor 
 Boone's. 
 
 " Captain Boone ! honest man !" said the Indian, while 
 Boone's grave features relaxed into a smile. "What 
 horse?" continued the speaker, staring in astonishment at 
 ihe noble black animal Kenton bestrode. 
 
 " One he borrowed,' said Chailes, in the Seneca tongue. 
 
 The Indian flew intf a violent passion, and accused then) 
 
SECOND SERIES. 17fi 
 
 of lying. He said the horse was liis own, — one he hail left 
 at home for his squaw to keep in good condition. He 
 intended to ride him the next spring, when they invaded 
 tlie white settlements in Pennsylvania. He then orderei 
 Kenton to dismount. 
 
 This Kenton of course refused to do, although Boone 
 advised a compliance, as the only possihle means of avoid- 
 ing a battle. But the next moment it was quite obvious 
 the surrendering of the horse would not have sufficed ; for 
 one of the Indians had recognised Kenton, notwithstanding 
 his paint, as well as Boone, and, uttering the warwhoop, 
 wheeled away and sped round in circles. The other two 
 did the same, to avoid the bullets of the white men, whose 
 I'ifles were instantly thrown up to their faces. The Indians 
 were the first to fire, but did no injury, as they were in 
 rapid motion and some eighty paces distant. But Boone 
 and Kenton (Charles did not tire at all) were more fortu- 
 nate. The first brought his man to the ground, and the 
 other, as was supposed, wounded the claimant of the horse, 
 for he fell forward on his horse's neck and did not rise 
 again. The third seized his companion, who fell to the 
 ground, and dragged him away by the hand while his horse 
 was in a gallop. 
 
 The party came down from the hill at a furious pace, 
 yelling terribly, and the whites retreated under cover of 
 the sumach-bushes at the edge of the prairie. 
 
 "I've got no gun. I can't fight!" said Paddy, when 
 they had dismounted in the bushes. 
 
 "You can fight with your knife, mon," said Hugh. 
 
 "And wouldn't they be sure to kill me?" 
 
 " No surer than if you were to sit down without resisting 
 and be scalped." 
 
 "Murther! And I didn't have the sculp-lock taken ofi"!" 
 
 " Here's one of my pistols," said the Rev. Mr. Jones, 
 coming up from the rear. " And let us all pray for pro- 
 tection and aid from above, and especially that this tender 
 virgin may not be harmed. Get up, you silly coward !" 
 he continued, bestowing a smart kick on the back of 
 Paddy, who had fallen on his knees. "There's no time to 
 be kneeling now. Pray standing at your post or lying 
 down with your finger on the trigger and your eye upon 
 the enemy. Let youi* hearts pray, my brethren ; this is no 
 
176 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 time for lip-service. And remember that if the Lord of 
 Hosts be on our side ten thousand foes cannot prevaiJ 
 against us. Be valiant, men, obedient to your leaders, 
 and take a steady aim !" 
 
 The Indians, seeing the effect of the fire of the whites, 
 and knowing Boone and Kenton were among them, although 
 superior in number, became very circumspect. They imme- 
 diately abandoned the prairie and plunged into the woods 
 bordering the opening. Their women and children were 
 Bent out of the way or hidden in the grass, and prepara- 
 tions made for an immediate assault. 
 
 Our party likewise made preparations. Boone led them 
 a short distance to the left, where there was the fallen 
 trunk of a gigantic tree, charred by the camp-fires of many 
 a hunting and war-party. Behind this the horses were tied 
 and fed, and a guard set over them, concealed in the long 
 grass which grew among the larger branches of the pros- 
 trate oak. And here, too, Julia was deposited in charge 
 of Mr. Jones. The remainder of the party were then 
 skilfully disposed by their experienced leaders, so as to 
 make the place of Julia's concealment (the horses being 
 likely to tempt the Indians) a sort of ambushment, and 
 the most dangerous point for the enemy to approach. 
 
 When thus posted, our party, with a few exceptions, felt 
 impatient for the battle to begin. They knew that pur- 
 suers were approaching, and dreaded being exposed be- 
 tween two fires. The Indians, however, were not inclined 
 to accommodate them. They, too, were well aware that 
 pursuit must have been made, and by delaying the attack 
 their number would be augmented to an irresistible force. 
 
 An hour, which seemed half a day, thus passed, an 
 occasional shot only being fired by the advanced scouts, 
 from their places of concealment, when any portions of the 
 bodies of their opponents were exposed. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Kenton," said Paddy, who had been placed 
 behind a beech-tree, with directions to keep his body con- 
 cealed, and fire his pistol as fast as he could load if any of 
 the Indians came in sight, " I say, Misther Kenton, this 
 ain't sic a terrible fight afther all. And this is a rigular 
 battle, is it ? Be the powers, I'll turn Indian-fighter me- 
 eelf! Be Jabers! what's that?" 
 
 , Paddy having slightly exposed his coon-skin cap, the tail 
 
SECOND SERIES. 177 
 
 (which had been left on it for a plume) fell at his feet, and 
 at the same moment the shurp report of a rifle ^vas heard 
 in the bushes some sixty paces distant. 
 
 Kenton motioned Paddy to fall down and pretend to be 
 dead. This Paddy did without hesitation, as soon as he 
 comprehended the fact that the Indian's ball had grazed 
 his head and carried away the tail of which he had been 
 so proud. 
 
 The Indian sprang forward to scalp his supposed victim, 
 and received the fire of Kenton. He fell in an open space, 
 clear of bushes, as he ran toward Paddy, pierced through 
 the brain. 
 
 " I brought him, Paddy !" whispered Kenton. 
 
 *' Oh, plase don't bring him here, Misther Kenton !" saic? 
 Paddy, who lay with his face against the ground and could 
 see nothing. 
 
 "No, he's lying yonder in full view. He didn't kick; he 
 jest quivered a little and then was limber. I've seen 'em 
 do it before, when I got a good bead on 'em. But the 
 others mustn't drag him off. Now, Paddy, if you want to 
 show your bravery and be a great man, run there and 
 scalp him. I'll watch, and keep the others away till you're 
 done." 
 
 " What! gore my hands wid human blood?" said Paddy, 
 spreading out his trembling fingers. 
 
 "■ No, he'll not bloody you much. Make a ring round 
 the scalp-lock with your knife, take the head between your 
 knees, and pull off the skin with your teeth." 
 
 " Taath ? Me taath ?" 
 
 " Yes, that's the way they do it. I've seen it done 
 often." 
 
 " Och, Mr. Kenton, I'm sick ! It's a faver-and-ager 
 30unthry. I've got a chale, and " 
 
 " Hush !" said Kenton. " They're coming to drag him 
 away." 
 
 " And ye'd 'a had poor Paddy to run right into their 
 jaws !" 
 
 Again Kenton's rifle spoke the doom of an Indian, and 
 the two lay together. Charles and Boone and Hugh 
 McSwine, seeing what had passed, concentrated the most 
 of their men near that point, knowing the Indians would 
 make a desperate effort to bear away their dead. 
 
17« WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 But, as they approached, it was apparent that the enemy 
 had been beforehand with them. Two of the faithful Scots, 
 incautiously exposing themselves, were fired upon from tlie 
 little bramble-swamp beyond the fallen Indians and killed. 
 This success of the foe was followed by yells of exultation. 
 Several of them darted forward to scalp the Scots, but were 
 driven back by the fire of Boone and Charles, one of them 
 borne off by his comrades martally wounded. 
 
 The fire now became incessant on both sides in the im- 
 mediate vicinity of the dead Indians. The Indians, how- 
 ever, were the greatest sufferers. The briery thicket in 
 which they had collected having no trees to resist the balls 
 of the white men, their death-yells were heard at short 
 intervals. The whites were defended by trees, Paddy alone 
 being exposed ; but, as he lay perfectly still, he was supposed 
 to be dead, and of course the enemy would not throw away 
 their fire on him. 
 
 "Don't you move, Paddy, or you're a dead man !" said 
 Kenton, reloading his rifle, which he had just discharged 
 with effect at an enormous savage who betrayed his locality 
 in endeavouring to aim at Boone. 
 
 "Lord !" cried Paddy, though careful not to move hand 
 or foot. " I hear the bullets whazzing about like bumble- 
 baas ! That w^asn't the rale battle we had at first ! Now 
 we are fighting in earnest. Och, murther ! I shall be kilt ! 
 I'm a dead man !" 
 
 " They won't shoot a dead man, I tell you," said Kenton. 
 " Be perfectly still, and you're safe. They think you're 
 dead." 
 
 "And do you mane to insinuate that they can eaa me 
 here?" 
 
 " To be sure they can — every one of 'em. And if you 
 try to jump behind the tree again a dozen bullets will go 
 through your body." 
 
 " Murther ! And if they bate us they'll sculp me for a 
 dead man ! And my sculp-lock wasn't shaved off!" 
 
 " Be quiet !" said Kenton, having again added a victim 
 to his list. The last one fell in attempting to bear off the 
 first he had slain, who, no doubt, was a chief. "Paddy," 
 he continued, ramming down his ball, " they'll hear your 
 voice, or see your cap move when you speak, and then 
 
SECOND SERIES. 179 
 
 you'll be killoil, sure enough. Don't you see Iioay they are 
 barking my tree ?" 
 
 *'No; I don't want to see it," said Paddy, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 " Tarn dem !" said Will Van Wiggens. " Here dey all 
 come togedder !" 
 
 After something like a simultaneous discharge from be- 
 hind the tree's, which the enemy had drawn forth by a stra- 
 tao-em, — phicing their blankets on poles and moving them 
 to and fro in the buslies, — the whole body of savages rushed 
 out with brandished tomahawks, and, yelling terrifically, 
 char'^-ed upon the white men before they could reload their 
 rifles. 
 
 Some of theni fortunately had pistols, and, although they 
 could do but little execution with them, they served to 
 intimidate the foremost of the enemy. 
 
 " Stand fast to your trees !" cried Boone. " If one man 
 runs away we shall all perish. Fight with your tomahawks 
 and knives — man to man, and we will conquer !" 
 
 "Give me your pistol, Paddy," said Kenton, whose tree 
 was the nearest to the advancing savages. 
 
 " I can't move," said Paddy. " Och, murther ! are they 
 coming ?" 
 
 At that moment the foremost Indian, some twenty paces 
 in advance of the rest, sprang forward, unconscious of the 
 close vicinity of Kenton, and, bestriding Paddy, stooped 
 down to scalp him. Just when the knife touched the skin, 
 and when Paddy yelled out " Murther !" the breech of 
 Kenton's gun descended, and* the savage fell upon his 
 intended victim. 
 
 The rest of the Indians rushed past, Kenton himself 
 being forced to fly before them, until they were opposed by 
 Boone, McSwine, Charles, and their brave comrades, who 
 sprang from tlieir trees and ofi'ered battle hand-to-hand. 
 The Indians faltered a moment and then retreated. They 
 snatched up their fallen chief who lay across Paddy's body 
 and bore him along. One of them strove to drag the sup- 
 posed dead Irishman by the leg, not having time to scalp 
 him there. But this was resisted by Paddy with all his 
 might. He kicked and yelled so astoundingly that the 
 Indian relinquished his hold and fled with the rest. And 
 Paddy, knowing it wouli be useless to counterfeit death 
 
180 WILD AYESTERN SCENES: 
 
 any longer, sprang up and valorously fired his pistol. He 
 then jumped behind Kenton's tree. It was all the work 
 of an instant. Moments were precious when men were 
 loading their rifles and foes were exposed to view. But the 
 Indians soon vanished, bearing away their dead. 
 
 " Come on, my brave comrades !" cried Paddy, now in 
 advance of all the whites. "We've defated 'em. They're 
 retrating, the savage blackguards ! And one of 'em was 
 astraddle of Paddy Pence ! But Paddy pistholed him, the 
 impident blackguard ! Charge, men, charge ! They're 
 retrating !" 
 
 Paddy was not mistaken. Charles understood the pur- 
 port of the yells and whoops of the discomfited savages. 
 Content to recover the bodies of their slain, they were 
 retreating precipitately. 
 
 "Now let us make tracks ourselves," said Kenton, lead- 
 ing the way toward the horses. 
 
 "Yes," said Boone ; " we cannot be gone too soon. Our 
 pursuers will come up quickly, and the attack will be 
 renewed if we tarry." 
 
 "Mr. Bone," said Paddy, "did you saa ony one fall 
 when I fired me pisthol ?" 
 
 Boone made no reply. 
 
 "He's jealous!" said Paddy. "But, Misther Kenton, 
 you can bear witness that I fired the last gun, and that I 
 was the foremost man afther the inemy when they retrated." 
 
 Kenton, too, paid no attention to Paddy, but hurried 
 toward the horses, now the object of his solicitude, for he 
 could not be induced to leave any of them (even the super- 
 numerary ones) behind. 
 
 "And did ye not saa it, Mr. Charles?" persisted Paddy. 
 
 " This is no time for nonsense !" said Charles. "Assist 
 me in placing Julia on her horse." 
 
 And Hugh McSwine likewise turned his back on Paddy 
 as he approached him, and, aided by Van Wiggens, who 
 had behaved with perfect coolness during the conflict, suc- 
 ceeded in placing the dead Scotchmen on horses before 
 thiir comrades. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 181 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE AMBUSCADE — THE NIGHT SURPRISE — CROSSING TUB 
 OHIO — LETTERS FROM HOME. 
 
 The party were soon remounted, and resumed the 
 flight at a brisker pace than ever. Charles rode at the 
 side of Julia, a little in advance of the rest, and their 
 course was over the eminence in the plain where they had 
 at first discovered the Indians. 
 
 Julia was very pale, for she had seen the dead Scots 
 placed on the horses ; and, as they still bled quite freely, 
 Charles directed them to be kept behind, that no traces of 
 their gore might be seen in their path. 
 
 " Miss Julia," said Paddy, who had been riding just be- 
 hind, expatiating on his feats to Mr. Jones, who listened 
 carelessly, singing one of the thanksgiving psalms of 
 David, " I was the last man who shot an Indian. I was 
 before all the rest of our men when the savages fled away. 
 I was down on me face " 
 
 " Down, Paddy?" asked Julia, in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, be jabers ! down, and almost sculped ! A dead 
 chafe was lying across me " 
 
 " Paddy, are you really in earnest ?' 
 
 " Arnest, is it ? Raal arnest ! Isn't it, Misther Charles ?" 
 
 " That part is true," said Charles, with a slight smile. 
 " Kenton had broken the Indian's head as he stooped down 
 to scalp Paddy, whom he supposed to be dead. And I, too, 
 at first supposed you were gone, Paddy, and am rejoiced 
 to find it was a mistake." 
 
 " And so am I, upon me sowl ! But it was me who 
 caused the blackguard savage to make the mistake, and 
 that was the raison of his death; and I may dacently say 
 I killed him. Yes, Miss Julia, he fell upon me, and he lay 
 on my stomach as heavy as a nightmare. I couldn't move 
 hand or fut. Then prisently the others came and lifted 
 him off"; and one of the blackguards had the impidence to 
 saze me by the fut, and pull me toward the bushes to 
 
 16 
 
1*^2 WILD WFSTFRN 8CEXKS : 
 
 Bculp me- — och, murther!" crieJ Puddy, placing his hand 
 on his head. " But I sent him sprawling in the laves with 
 a kick, and he let go his holt ; and I'm sure he was as pale 
 as ashes at the thought of a dead man kicking him. Then 
 I pulled up my pisthol and fired at the whole crowd o' 'em, 
 and that was the last gun shot off in the battle." 
 
 " And so you were the last to fire, Paddy," said Julia. 
 
 " The last to fire, is it ? Yes — that is, — I mane, — och, 
 now, Miss Julia, don't he afther saying that same ! And, 
 if it's true I didn't shoot before, I was down flat on me 
 face, wid no tra before me and in full view of the whole 
 army of savages. And didn't Mr. Kenton tell me to lie 
 still, and if I budged they'd raddle me with their bullets?" 
 
 " What caused you to fall, Paddy ?" asked Julia, her 
 curiosity soracAvhat excited. 
 
 " Och, murther ! And to-be-sure it was one of their on- 
 dacent bullets. I was jist paaping from behint the root of 
 the tra, and one of the blackguards had the ill-mannert to 
 aim his rifle at me head. The bullet, I suppose, would lu ee 
 hit me atwane the eyes if 1 hadn't dodged. As it was, it 
 struck the top o' me cap, and cut off me cone-tail be tie 
 roots !" 
 
 " And did that make you fall ?" 
 
 "Didn't it? Miss Julia, you were niver shot in th^fc 
 way, I know, or you wouldn't ask the question. I was 
 stunned, and fell down and rolled over. And the savage 
 who kilt me, not saaing Mr. Kenton near by, ran out to 
 snatch me sculp. Then Mr. Kenton missed cutting his 
 tail away and struck him in the forehead. Down he fell 
 as dead as a door-nail. And then the battle began in 
 arnest, fighting over his worthless corpse and over Paddy's 
 body! And that's the truth of it, Miss Julia, and I hope 
 it'll be in the London papers. I'm covered all over wid 
 blood, and I've jist come out of the thickest of the fight. 
 And heie's the hill where we first saw the inemy. Mur- 
 ther ! Och, Lord!" cried he, darting past Charles and 
 Julia, and evincing the greatest terror on beholding an In- 
 dian child crouching in the tall grass near the path. 
 
 "The poor infant," said Charles, pausing, "has been 
 placed there by its mother, not supposing we would pass in 
 this direction." 
 
 " Poor thing !" said Julia. " See how still it is. Paddy 'a 
 
SECOND SERIES. 183 
 
 horse has thrown dust in its face, and yet it does not 
 cry." 
 
 "No," said Charles. "Like the young jartridge, it 
 remains in silence where its mother placed it. It is not 
 two years old, and yet would bite your finger if you at- 
 tempted to seize it. We will pass on. But I will assure 
 its mother of its safety." And he did so, in a loud voice, 
 in the Indian dialect. A moment after, the mother, who 
 had been lying concealed only a few paces apart, in a smjjl 
 chasm, sprang forward, seized the child, and fled toward 
 the woods. 
 
 "For shame, Paddy!" cried Julia, seeing the A^alorous 
 Indian-fighter aim his pistol at the flying woman and pull 
 the tritrfrer, 
 
 " Och, it's not loaded, Miss Julia," said he. "I didn't 
 know if there mightn't be others with guns and tomahawks 
 all around us. Misther Charles knows they can hide in 
 grass not an inch long. And sure you won't belave it 
 was the baby that made me dodge. It was the twinty 
 warriors I didn't knoAV but there might be hid and aiming 
 at us." And Paddy hastily rejoined the Rev. Mr. Jones, 
 and listened in silence to the song he had never ceased to 
 articulate during the incident of the Indian infant and its 
 mother. 
 
 " This is a specimen of life in the wild woods, Julia," 
 said Charles, " such as you have heard related during winter 
 evenings before the cheerful fire. But you find it not so 
 pleasant as you anticipated." 
 
 " If it were only relieved of its dangers — its butcheries !" 
 said the pale girl, with a faint smile. " Still, it would be 
 no sport that a poor maiden should voluntarily witness; 
 but captives must submit to circumstances. I hope there 
 will be no more slaughter. Do you think there will be 
 more fifThtinji; ?" 
 
 " It is probable. But we shall be able to repel any 
 attack. I do not think they have exceeding twenty war- 
 riors at Chillicothe capable of pursuing us. They are still 
 killing buffalo." 
 
 " And Mr. Kenton, I learn^ has deprived them of their 
 best horses. But, if twenty pursue, and unite with as 
 many others on the battle- ground we are leaving, still they 
 will greatly exceed us in number." 
 
184 WILD WESTEEN SCENES: 
 
 " But we shall surpass them in skill. Boone and Kentoo 
 are eq'uil to twenty ordinary warriors. Then there ia 
 Hugh McSwine ! Oh, Julia, he is terrible in battle, and 
 slays his foe with the keenest delight. Some one dear to 
 him must have been a victim : he seems actuated by an in- 
 satiable thirst for blood." 
 
 "And have you not killed some of them, Charles?" 
 asked Julia. 
 
 " No. I am sure I did not ; and I hope it may never 
 be necessary for me to do so. They will follow us, how- 
 ever, and probably more blood will flow. If we had none 
 of their horses, they might abandon the pursuit when they 
 learn we have been the victors in the first battle." 
 
 "Then why not leave them?" asked Julia. 
 
 " I should have no objection. But the rest would never 
 consent. Yet we shall reach the river in safety. We 
 cannot conceal our trail; but there are many narrow 
 ravines suited for ambuscades, and our foes will be very 
 circumspect and tardy in the pursuit. And these exciting 
 perils, Julia, will make our narrative the more interesting 
 when, in old age, we sit by the blazing hearth, of winter 
 evenings, and describe them. You must keep a journal, 
 beginning with your captm-e and ending with our nup- 
 tials !" 
 
 The maiden blushed, but did not chide him ; and she 
 determined, if she escaped death in the wilderness, to pre- 
 serve in writing a narrative of her adventures. This she 
 did in letters to Kate Livingston and in a journal Avhich 
 we have been permitted to read and transcribe. 
 
 " Mercy on us ! What is that ?" asked Julia, hearing 
 an awful sound, when they had proceeded only a mile or 
 two from the scene of the recent conflict. 
 
 " Murther !" cried Padd}^ spurring forward. " We shall 
 have to fight agin. I know that voice !" 
 
 "Ah!" said Julia, "I recognise it too. It is Peter 
 Shaver's ass, scenting the blood of the slain. Our pursuers 
 have arrived !" 
 
 " They will be likely to pause at the scene of the recent 
 action," said Charles, "when they learn its disastrous 
 result. And Peter is among them. Ko doubt he had 
 sense enough to escape killing by denouncing us and offer- 
 ing to join our enemies. But he will do no injury, and he 
 
FECOXD SKRTRS. loi) 
 
 Tnast not be filvcd at if lie appears witliin range of our 
 riiles. He ^vill desert to us the first opportunity." 
 
 A shot was heard fired by one of the party who had 
 lingered behind. This attracted no especial notice at the 
 time. But soon after Hugh McSwine and Skippie (the 
 latter still having the bundle he had brought from New 
 Jersey) came up at full gallop ; and Skippie, pausing an 
 instant near Charles, said — 
 
 ''He did !" 
 
 "AVho?" demanded Charles. 
 
 " Hugh." 
 
 " It was his gun, then. And Hugh never misses his 
 mark." 
 
 "No. Got the scalp." 
 
 Charles turned his head and beheld Hugh, some few- 
 paces behind, stretching a scalp on a hazel-hoop as he rode 
 along. 
 
 " This is horrible !" said Julia, pale and shrinking, for 
 she comprehended all, and had even glanced at the bloody 
 Hugh. And, besides, the ass of Peter Shaver was still 
 faintly heard in the distance. 
 
 Boone came forward and pointed to some dim and dis- 
 tant heights before them, which were joyfully announced as 
 the northern barriers of the Ohio River. There was, how- 
 ever, no assurance that they could elude their pursuers and 
 pass the broad stream in safety. A raft would have to be 
 constructed ; the Aveather must be calm, and the water 
 smooth, before they might venture to embark. 
 
 These difficulties and contingencies being apparent to 
 Boone and Kenton, a hasty consultation was held, as they 
 proceeded at a smart pace; and it was determined by the 
 majority — and Hugh McSwine, of course, voted with the 
 majority — that they would fight another battle. Charles 
 saw the necessity of repelling their pursuers, but did not 
 urge it. 
 
 They were now arrived at the beginning of a series of 
 narrow ravines running between lofty hills, and here it was 
 resolved to rebuke the foe. It was in the second of these 
 ravines the first ambuscade was formed, it being deemed 
 good policy to embolden their pursuers by permitting them 
 to pass through the first in safety. 
 
 The men were stationed in places of concealment behind 
 
 IG* 
 
i^<5 VVILD WESTEilN SCENES: 
 
 detached rocks and under evergreen bushes, command- 
 ing the path through the narrow defile. The Rev. Mr. 
 Jones, although he had no special objection to fighting the 
 heathen in defence of his Christian friends, yet "thought it 
 proper, in view of his peaceful calling, to ride forward and 
 remain with Julia during the carnage. But, before doing 
 so, he made one of his characteristic prayers in presence 
 of the assembled party, and the Scotchmen, particularly, 
 responded with a loud "Amen !" 
 
 Not more than an hour had elapsed before the foremost 
 of the savages came in view. They had passed through 
 the first valley in safety, and did not seem to apprehend an 
 ambush in the second one. Kenton recognised the owner 
 of his steed in the foremost Indian, who seemed to be 
 pointing at the foot-prints of his horse, which he could 
 doubtless distinguish from the rest. They came in a long 
 file, not more than two abreast, and the foremost of them 
 were suffered to pass the concealed whites before the word 
 was given to fire. Then a volley, consisting, by pre- 
 arrangement, of but one-half the rifles, Avas discharged. 
 Never were savages more completely surprised. They 
 sprang in every direction, hoping to elude the aim of their 
 foes. " Ugh ! ho ! yough !" were uttered by some, and by 
 others the anglicism " Dern !" And yet, as Boone and 
 Kenton were among those who had reserved their fire for 
 the second discharge, only two or three fell under the aim 
 of the Scots, and one, of course, by the fatal lead of Hugh 
 McSwine. Most of the men had fired too high. 
 
 At the second discharge five or six fell, killed and 
 wounded, and the rest fled precipitately, yelling terrifi- 
 cally, and without striking a bloAV. 
 
 The whites did not pursue them, nor even scalp their 
 fallen victims, but resolved without delay to resume their 
 march toward the Ohio River. One of the Indians, how- 
 ever, (whom Kenton recognised,) had sprung forward be- 
 tween them and the place where Julia had been deposited. 
 They had not aimed at him, because he was the foremost of 
 the party and separated from the rest. 
 
 Tliis Indian soon came to where the horses had been 
 placed, in a little nook out of range of the rifles. Paddy 
 had charge of them, and, not scanning the savage closely, 
 supposed him to be Kenton ; and they really resembled 
 
SECOND SERIES. 187 
 
 each other in stature, and were costumed and painted 
 Bimilarly. 
 
 " j\Ir, Kenton," said Paddy, "and is it all over so soon? 
 But ^'hat have ye done wid yer gun ?" The Indian had 
 thrown down his rifle, and his tomahawk had fallen from 
 his belt as he pninged through the ravine. 
 
 "Dern!" said the Indian. "My hoss ! Kenton d 
 
 h35S-steal! A white-man tief!" and he proceeded, with all 
 the haste in his power, to mount one of the horses ere 
 Paddy could recover his presence of mind. Hearing the 
 ■whites returning, the savage dashed away, and was no sooner 
 out of si2;ht, having turned an abrupt angle of rocks, than 
 Paddy fired his pistol ; and a few moments after the Rev. 
 Mr. Jones's pistol was heard. 
 
 " Och, ye cowards !" cried Paddy, meeting ;;he party 
 returning. " Or did you mane to let that big blackguard 
 savage come to me on purpose?" 
 
 '* What have you done with him ?" asked Hugh. 
 
 "Where's my horse?" shouted Kenton, seeing his best 
 steed was no longer with the rest of the animals. 
 
 " The blackguard savage mounted him ! And, as St. 
 Pater is my judge, I thought it was you. But you naadn't 
 fume and fret about it, Misther Kenton ! Paddy's the boy 
 to fax the prowling red thieves. Didn't ye hear me 
 pisthol ?" 
 
 " I heard two," said Charles. 
 
 " It was only the acho," said Paddy, "which desaved 
 ye. I peppered him !" 
 
 " Where is he ?" asked Boone. 
 
 "And where's my horse?" demanded Kenton. 
 
 "Be aisy, Misther Bone. If that is a spare rifle you 
 have," (be had picked up the Indian's,) "plase let me have 
 it. This pisthol won't kill at wanst. I shat the varmint 
 through the lungs, but he won't fall for a few manutes, and 
 thin we'll git yer horse agin, Misther Kenton." 
 
 Kenton uttered a fierce malediction, while the rest only 
 vented peals of laughter, and the whole party hastened 
 toward the jutting lock where the Indian had disappeared 
 before Paddy fired. 
 
 "Good!" cried Kenton, his face wreathed in smiles, as 
 he beheld his fine steed standing near the place where Julia 
 had awaited the issue of the strife. "And there's the yel- 
 
(88 WILD WESTERN SCENES! 
 
 low rascal who stole him," he continued, seeing Mr. Jones 
 gazing at the prostrate Indian, who lay perfectly motion- 
 less in the path, while the horse stood over him, snorting, 
 with distended nostrils, arched neck, and eyes flashing 
 fearfully. 
 
 "I told you so, be jabers !" cried Paddy, running for- 
 ward. "Didn't I say me pisthol had done his basiness ?'' 
 
 "I have no taste for such exercises," said Mr. Jones; 
 *' and I would not be sorry if it could be made to appear 
 that it was not my ball which smote the heathen." 
 
 " Yer ball ? Did ye say yer bullet ? And did ye shoot 
 at him too, Mr. Jones?" 
 
 " I held out my weapon and pulled the trigger. He 
 fell." 
 
 " And have you forgotten how it was when ye shot the 
 turkey ? And was not the report of yer pisthol but the 
 revarberation of mine?" 
 
 "Unluckily, Paddy," said Charles, blowing the smoke 
 from the barrel of the reverend gentleman's weapon, "Mr. 
 Jones's pistol is empty this time, and yet warm from the 
 recent discharge." 
 
 " And warm is it from the racent discharge ? And 
 mine is cowld, because it was discharged first. And are not 
 our bullets of the same size ? And would any blackguard 
 Indian fall, afther being kilt by a pisthol, before riding 
 some distance? I shall claim the credit of killing him me- 
 self, in spite of your inganious argyments. And I'll sculp 
 him too !" 
 
 But when he laid hold of the Indian, finding he still 
 breathed, he sprang back in alarm and begged the loan of 
 a rifle or tomahawk to dispatch him. 
 
 "No !" said Julia, advancing, pale and tearful, "do not 
 imitate the savages. Rather set them an example of for- 
 bearance and humanity !" 
 
 " He is not dead, and will immediately recover," said 
 Boone, finding that the ball had glanced from his temple, 
 having only stunned him. This proved true ; and, after 
 the lapse of a few minutes, the Indian was so far recovered 
 as to be able to ride one of the horses — a silent, sullen 
 captive. 
 
 The party now urged forward their steeds, and soon 
 entered another narrow ravine. This they passed through 
 
.SECOND SEKTES. 189 
 
 Without halting, and continued their journey toward the 
 river. 
 
 They knew that considerable time wouhl be consumed by 
 their pursuers in burying their dead, and that they would 
 hesitate long before plunging into the next defile. Hence 
 they hoped to escape further molestation. 
 
 During the afternoon they arrived on the northern bank 
 of the Ohio ; and many of them cast longing looks at the 
 opposite shore, which once attained, it was the general 
 supposition they would be in a place of safety. But Boone 
 and Kenton would not consent to the prevalent desire of 
 the less experienced to halt and set about the construction 
 ])f a raft. There were no natural defences at that point 
 to enable them to keep a hostile party of superior numbers 
 at bay during the preparations for the passage. And, be- 
 sides, a strong wind prevailed, and the waves ran too high 
 for any raft to ride in security. Nor would it answer to 
 remain stationary until the subsidence of the gale, for 
 the Indians would be upon them. Kenton had been cap- 
 tured once with a fine lot of horses, by thus remaining in- 
 active until the foe, following his trail, surprised him. 
 
 Profiting by his experience on that melancholy occasion, 
 Kenton led the way along the path down the river, so that 
 the distance between them and their pursuers might not be 
 diminished. 
 
 Mr. Jones expressed his fervent thanks that he had not 
 been made an instrument of death in the hands of his 
 heavenly Master, and often congratulated himself, as he 
 rode along, during the pauses in his song, on the recovery 
 of the savage. 
 
 Paddy was chagrined that he did not die, and die by his 
 hand. He could no longer claim the credit of the stunning 
 wound, as the effect of tlie concussion was evidently instan- 
 taneous. But he was consoled in some measure by rccLiv- 
 ing the Indian's rifle, which Boone loaned him, and by 
 the loss of Van Wiggens's dog, which had not been seen 
 since the battle, if battle it could be called. The latter in- 
 cident afforded him a sort of malicious pleasure, inasmuch 
 as the Dutchman insisted upon having se(m the mark of 
 Paddy's ball some twenty feet high on the f;ice of the per- 
 pendicular cliff, and had otherwise depreciated the merits 
 cf the Irishman. 
 
190 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 And, as they rode along the path, which sometimes 
 diverged from the river where enormous masses of rocks 
 had descended to the water's edge, the inquiry was passed 
 along the line if any one had seen Peter Shaver in the 
 ambuscade. No one had recognised him, but several had 
 heard the familiar voice of his ass after the slaughter. 
 Van Wiggens had no doubt Peter was among the savages, 
 and seemed to think that Watch, his dog, had seen him 
 and followed him. This was a source of hope, for he 
 doubted not he should some day see Peter's face again. 
 
 Thus they continued without interruption until the au- 
 tumnal sun, blood-red and magnified apparently to an 
 enormous size, sank down before them ; for their faces were 
 toward the West. They now searched for one of those 
 impregnable fastnesses in the hills, with its natural de- 
 fences of rocks and fissures, in which to encamp for the 
 night ; and, when it was found, the tents were erected, 
 the hungry permitted to eat and the weary to rest. The 
 wind continuing somewhat boisterous, it was the opinion of 
 Boone and Kenton that a passage over the river could not 
 be effected until the following day. 
 
 A consultation was then held in regard to the fate of their 
 prisoner ; and as Boone and Kenton, as well as Julia, were 
 in favour of liberating him, it was so determined. But he 
 was compelled to swim across the river a few miles back, in 
 full view of two of his captors. Pushing a dry log before 
 him, he launched out in the stream, and was soon beyond 
 the reach of rifles. Then he yelled like an enfranchised 
 demon, and abused his enemies. It was feared their mercy 
 would be productive of only evil, as is sometimes the case 
 when extended to unworthy objects. However, they dis- 
 missed this Ground-Hog (for such was his name) from their 
 minds. 
 
 After a hearty repast, Kenton and several of the most 
 active men started back on their trail to discovez-, if pos- 
 eible, the camp-fire of their pursuers. 
 
 The scout proceeded several miles, and then ascended a 
 high eminence, from which they could see eastward a still, 
 greater distance ; but no fires were visible. It was possible- 
 the pursuit had been abandoned, and such was their report 
 on returning. 
 
 And now a sense of comparative security pervaded the 
 
SECOND SERIES. 191 
 
 L'Ticam])ment. Julia and Charles sent for Skippie, resolved 
 to read the letters he had brought from their friends. But 
 Skippie was nowhere to be found, although he had been 
 seen since twilight. Doubtless, as Hugh McSwine asserted, 
 he was out alone, reconnoitering the country in every 
 direction. 
 
 Disappointed in this, Charles and Julia congratulated 
 themselves upon the prospect of a speedy deliverance from 
 their perils. 
 
 An hour after, Skippie came hastily into the tent, fol- 
 lowed by Paddy. 
 
 "And you won't tell me what you've sane?" exclaimed 
 Paddy. " But I'll hear it in spite o' ye, ye unfinished son 
 of a sawny !" 
 
 "Diik!" said Skippie, exposing the handle of his wea- 
 pon, and darting a look of defiance at Paddy. 
 
 "Dirk, is it? Well, don't dirk me! I'm Misther 
 Charles's friend, you know, and the deadly inemy of the 
 blackguard savages." 
 
 "Your news, Skippie?" said Charles. 
 
 "Twenty I" said Skippie, pointing in a westerly direc- 
 tion and in the line of their march for the next day. 
 
 "Twenty Indians in front of us!" said Julia, in tones 
 of sadness. 
 
 " They are not our pursuers, at all events," said Charles. 
 
 And, when Skippie had described them and the location 
 of their camp in his laconic but graphic manner, Boone 
 announced without hesitation that it was a party from Paint 
 Creek going over into Kentucky on a predatory expedition; 
 and, no doubt, the object of their attack was his station on 
 the Kentucky River, called Boonsboro'. He had seen their 
 trail, but did not mention it, as it was not fresh. They 
 must hare been encamped several days where Skippie disco- 
 vered them, perhaps awaiting the arrival of reinforcements. 
 
 A council being held, it was resolved to attack them in 
 the night. They occupied an important position in the line 
 of march for the next day. The Indians had, no doubt, 
 been making preparations for crossing over into Kentucky, 
 and probably possessed canoes, which, if captiu'ed, wouhl 
 servo an excellent purpose. 
 
 Arrangements were made to set out immediately. Skip- 
 pie, who could move with less noise than any one in camp. 
 
192 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 was despatched on their back trail to guard against any 
 sudden surprise from that quarter. They did not appre- 
 hend immediate danger from their repulsed pursuers ; but 
 some other roving party, led by renegade white men, might 
 possibly fall upon their camp. 
 
 Kenton was the guide selected to lead them against the 
 warriors encamped near the river. Familiar with the fea- 
 tures of the country, having often traversed every hill and 
 ravine, the few words uttered by Skippie had made him 
 sufficiently acquainted with ihe locality of the Indians, lie 
 nad himself encamped there repeatedl3^ 
 
 Paddy desired to guard the camp, and especially to pro- 
 tect Miss Julia. But this was objected to by Charles, and 
 '"he Rev. Mr. Jones was designated for that purpose. Nor 
 would Kenton suffer Paddy again to have the care of the 
 horses. Therefore, much against his will, he had no alter- 
 native but to march. 
 
 They set out, treading noiselessly in each other's tracks, 
 marching in single file, in the manner of the Indians. 
 Boone had drilled them so well that the whole party stepped 
 simultaneously, making but one sound, and that a low, dull 
 one, the foremost man (Kenton) having carefully removed 
 or softly crushed the leaves that lay in the path. 
 
 "Be jabers !" said Paddy, speaking to Van Wiggens, 
 who was the next man in front of him, "it would be a good 
 thing now to have your dog wid us." 
 
 " Tam dem !" said Van VViggens ; " if tey hurt a hair of 
 my Vatch " 
 
 " You must not speak so loudly," whispered Charles, who 
 brought up the rear, stepping in the footprints of Paddy. 
 
 The moon was shining brightly, for there was not a cloud 
 in che sky. A long silence ensued, interrupted only by the 
 low sound of more than twenty feet falling softly to the 
 earth. And, as they drew near the smouldering embers 
 round which the slumbering India-ns reposed in fancied 
 security, their progress became very slow, and their scarcely- 
 perceptible advance was no longer attended with any noise 
 which might have been detected by the keenest ear at the 
 distance of a dozen paces. 
 
 " Misther Charles," said Paddy, in a low whisper, "do 
 you think there is ginerally as much fighting done by the 
 tail of a line like this as the head o' it?" He asked thia 
 
SECOND SERIES. 193 
 
 question when a curve in the path enabled him to see the 
 men in front winding along like a huge serpent under the 
 trees, through whose boughs the rays of the moon were 
 streaming brightly. 
 
 " It is often the post of honour," said Charles. 
 
 Paddy thought he would prefer a post of safety ; but ho 
 could not comprehend how the rear of the line would be 
 exposed to as much danger as the head of it, and he so ex- 
 pressed himself. But he was informed that the whole line 
 would glide silently round the sleeping Indians and be 
 formed in the shape of a crescent. 
 
 "Plase, Misther Charles," said he, "have me put in the 
 maddle, — in the bow of the moon." 
 
 " It cannot be done now, Paddy, without danger of dis- 
 covery. You have the position you asked for, and you 
 must keep it. Say no more, for yonder is the enemy's 
 camp." 
 
 Tlie camp of the Indians was situated near the mouth 
 of a valley openino; on the river. But a stream of water, 
 emptying into the Ohio, with its steep alluvial embank- 
 ments, was now between the sleeping Indians and their 
 assailants, and the latter had to pass down the brook some 
 twenty paces before there was any possibility of crossing 
 over. Kenton and Boone stood several minutes in breath- 
 less silence opposite the slumbering Indians, the outlines of 
 whose forms were dimly visible, and then moved on noise- 
 lessly toward the moss-covered trunk of an enormous tree 
 that lay across the stream a few paces farther below. This 
 tree, some eight feet in diameter, Kenton remembered dis- 
 tinctly, having often passed over it. It had been lying 
 there, perhaps, for a century, and its damp moss and soft 
 exterior afforded a sure and noiseless footing. 
 
 The head of the line passed over the tree and returned 
 up the stream on the opposite side, diverging from it, how- 
 ever, so as to enclose the enemy. Paddy shivered with 
 dread when he saw the foremost of the men thus counter- 
 marching and closely surrounding the unconscious savages. 
 It was a moment of painful suspense. Charles could dis- 
 tinctly hear poor Paddy's heart palpitating violently when 
 they were midway on the huge trunk and the word to halt 
 was Avhispered back along the line. A wolf had crept up 
 to the smouldering fire and snatched a bone, with which it 
 
 17 
 
194 WILD WESTEKN SCENES; 
 
 sprang away growling. Several of the Indians moved and 
 uttered some ^yords, but did not lift their heads, for they 
 recognised the sound and were familiar with the prowling 
 habits of the animal. It is probable the consciousness of 
 the proximity of the wolf served to lull them ; for it was 
 not likely an enemy could be near when the ravenous beast 
 was in their midst. None but Boone and Kenton could 
 have approached so noiselessly; and the Indians did not 
 suppose those renowned and dangerous foes were in the 
 vicinity. 
 
 The slumberers being composed, the sign was made for 
 the men to resume their cautious approach. But, when a 
 single additional step had been taken, another pause was 
 ordered. An owl flapped up from the feet of Boone, where 
 he had been assailing the eyes of a deer's head throAvn 
 aside in the bushes. It was one of the largest specimens 
 of those birds of ill omen ; and it now hooted loudly, 
 perched on a bough immediately over the prostrate Indians. 
 
 " Och, murther !" said Paddy. 
 
 Charles reached forward and placed his hand on Paddy's 
 mouth. 
 
 Several of the Indians stirred again and uttered inco- 
 herent words. But the owl was a familiar bird, and, 
 supposing he had been alarmed by the wolf, they slept 
 again. 
 
 Boone and Kenton, having reached the designated point, 
 only awaited the closing up of the rear of the line to begin 
 the slaughter. Their guns were at their shoulders, their 
 knives loosened in their sheaths, and each had selected 
 bis victim for the supposed indispensable sacrifice. 
 
 But when Will Van "Wiggens, who, from his corpulency, 
 was the heaviest man of the party, made his next step 
 midway of the tree, the huge rotten trunk sank down sud- 
 denly, precipitating the men, with a thundering sound and 
 a migh.ty splash, into the water and mud beneath ! 
 
 So sudden, so unlooked-for, so ludicrous, was this 
 event, that the m.en who aimed their rifles, standing with- 
 in a few feet of the heads of the Indians, became irresistibly 
 convulsed with laughter, and fired without eftect. The In- 
 dians escaped without injury. They disappeared in the 
 bushes, their ears assailed only by the sounds of immode- 
 rate laughter ! But they fled away, leaving their guns be- 
 
SECOND SERIES. I'J.^ 
 
 hintl, amazed at such ill-timed merriment, and believing 
 
 themselves beset by evil spirits. 
 
 " Murther !" cried Paddy. 
 
 "Tarn it!" shouted Van Wiggens, floundering in the 
 quicksand. The wolf howled from the summit of a cliff. 
 The owl was mute, his glaring eyeballs fixed in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "Oh Lord! Don't sculp me! I'll surrinder!" con- 
 tinued Paddy, as Charles succeeded in dragging him out 
 of the siream by the heels. 
 
 "Open your eyes," said Charles, inexpressibly diverted. 
 
 "I can't saa wid 'em! They're full of mud! Oh, 
 don't hit me on the head, brave Misther savage ! I've been 
 adopted mesclf, and belong to a dacent family. Me mither 
 is Diving Duck, and — is it you, Misther Charles?" said 
 he, opening his eyes. " Upon me sowl, I thought I was 
 draming ! Ye see, I was shocked by the fall, and me 
 sinses was wandering. Don't mind me hasty words, if ye 
 plase, Misther Charles. And I hope we have put to rout 
 the nasty blackguards. Have we kilt 'em all ?" 
 
 "Not one remains to hurt you, Paddy," said Charles, 
 who still heard the distant yells of the flying enemy. 
 
 " And have we kilt 'em all ?" 
 
 "Tam dem! Not a single von!" said Van Wiggens, 
 who had extricated himself and learned the result. 
 
 After the prolonged laughter had in some measure sub- 
 Bided, a search was made for canoes, and several were 
 found tied in the mouth of the creek. These they took 
 possession of, and, placing the arms of the Indians in them, 
 left a guard to watch until all the baggage could be re- 
 moved thither from the camp. The wind had ceased its 
 violence, and, as the surface of the Ohio was as smooth as 
 a mirror, they determined to cross over early in the 
 morning. 
 
 They were met, however, on their return to the camp, 
 by Skippie, who, in unusual excitement, briefly informed 
 them tliat their pursuers were advancing, led by Girty, 
 who had joined them after the ambuscade. He said they 
 were within three or four hours march of them, approach- 
 ing cautiou.4y, and apparently resolved to make a desperate 
 struggle before permitting the fugitives to escape with 
 their horses. 
 
196 WILD TESTFEX FCENES : 
 
 "I'll have all the horses in Kentucky in less than an 
 hour !" said Kenton. 
 
 "And I'll see that the people get over," said Eoone. 
 " We are safe now, my young friend," he continued, address- 
 ing Chailcs, " at least for some days to come." 
 
 "True, sir," said Charles, quickening his pace, and with 
 difficulty keeping at the side of Boone, whose giant strides 
 usually impelled him forward beyond his companions; 
 "and I am extremely thankful for it." 
 
 Julia se( med pleased to learn that the enterprise against 
 the Indian encampment had resulted without bloodshed, 
 and the patriotic Baptist gave thanks for the easy victory, 
 not doubting the hand of Providence had shaped the expe- 
 dition and produced the bloodless end. The great trunk 
 over which multitudes had been passing from time imme- 
 morial, and upon which numbers had stood that night, 
 seemed to have fallen precisely at a juncture admirably 
 adapted to facilitate the escape of the Indians. A little 
 Si/Oner or later, and human lives would have been sacri- 
 ficed. 
 
 Such were the deductions of Mr. Jones and the maiden. 
 But Hugh McSAvine and Will Van Wiggens ascribed the 
 escape of the savages to the devil, who had first assumed 
 the form of a wolf and then an owl. 
 
 No time, hoAvever, was lost in such idle speculations. 
 The maiden was soon mounted, and the whole party pushed 
 on toward the river with all the expedition in their power. 
 And when Julia reached the scene of the recent accident 
 Kenton's voice was heard urging the horses into the 
 Stream. It was a frosty night, though calm, and the 
 animals, plunging and snorting, evinced their reluctance to 
 swimming. They were nevertheless constrained to submit, 
 and were soon gliding toward the Kentucky shore. 
 
 Julia Avas placed in one of the canoes and rowed over by 
 Charles. At every stroke of his oar the poor girl's spirits 
 rose, and her eyes sparkled in unison with the glittering 
 drops that fell from the oars in the moonlight. 
 
 They spoke of their friends and homes in New Jersey, — 
 of Charles's Indian mother and sister, whom they loved 
 and pitied, but did not regret being separated from them, — 
 of the beautiful country and pleasant climate they were 
 about to enter, — and of the means of returning thence to 
 
SECOND SERIES. 1U7 
 
 their Eastern abode. Not one word was uttered of their 
 deep and ineradicable love. It was too sacred for words — 
 too manifest to be questioned. 
 
 The horses were soon landed in safety. The event wag 
 announced by three loud huzzas from Kenton ; and, strik- 
 ing a light, his locality was marked by a great bonfire on 
 the southern shore. 
 
 McSwine and Van Wiggens were the last to embark ; 
 and after entering their canoe they lingered under the 
 clustering boughs of the trees that hung over the water, — 
 the one hoping to add another victim to his catalogue and 
 the other watching for his dog. Nor did they wait very long 
 before the pursuing party came in view upon their trail, 
 and Hugh had the satisfaction of putting an end to the 
 existence of another human being. The one he had killed 
 came to the bank, after the discovery that the fugitives 
 were beyond his reach, and gazed in disappointment at 
 Kenton's great fire, in the broad glare of which the smok- 
 ing horses were plainly visible. He stood within six paces 
 of Hugh's muzzle, and fell, without a groan, into the deep 
 water. 
 
 But th« discharge of McSwine's rifle was followed by a 
 rush in that direction, and the bloodthirsty Scot became 
 aware of his danger. He could not now leave the shelter- 
 ing willows without being seen and fired upon ; nor could 
 he remain long concealed from their view where he was. 
 So he recharged his gun, and determined to have another 
 victim before he fell, if such was to be his end. But the 
 Indians, fearing an ambush, kept themselves hidden, in 
 readiness, however, to fire upon any canoes that might 
 push out from under the clustering willows. 
 
 " Dere ne is !" said Van Wiggens, in a whisper, hearing 
 a dog yelp. "• Dat's Vatch ! I know his cry. Let me 
 out, and I'll vistle for him." 
 
 "What, mon !" said McSwine, "lose your life for a dog? 
 I dinna' ken how much your life is worth, but I value mine 
 at a price aboon that." 
 
 "Dere he is! It's Vatch !" continued Van Wiggens, 
 hearing a dog Avhining distressfully on the bank, and after- 
 ward seeing him indistinctly through the intercepting 
 boughs. 
 
 "It won't do, mon !" said Hugh; "we maun awa' from 
 
 17* 
 
1 ^8 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 this. They're cooming down the creek. Lift your gun 
 and we'll fire thcgether." They did so, and under cover 
 of the smoke from their rifles, which descended upon the 
 water, and during the momentary consternation produced 
 among the Indians, (for two more of them had fallen, one 
 mortally and the other severely wounded,) McSwine made 
 several vigorous strokes of the oars, which caused the 
 canoe to glide out rapidly from the shore. "Noo fa' doon 
 on yer face, mon !" he continued, setting the example to 
 his companion, and knowing that the impetus he had given 
 the light bark would soon carry it beyond the reach of the 
 enemy's balls. But, before attaining that distance, the 
 yelling savages sent a leaden sliower after it. The water 
 was ripped up around them, and the frail canoe was per- 
 forated in several places, but its occupants fortunately 
 escaped without serious injury. Van Wiggens was slightly 
 scratched on the most prominent portion of his body, his 
 corpulency preventing an entire concealment of it. 
 
 McSwine and Van Wiggens, upon landing, were much 
 applauded. But, when conducted to the great fire, upon 
 which an enormous quantity of wood and bj'ush had been 
 piled, as if an illumination had been the design, poor Van 
 Wiggens's spirits sunk again upon hearing the melancholy 
 howl of his dog on the opposite side of the Ohio. He 
 ran to the water's edge and called to "Vatch" to swim 
 over ; but in vain, as the dog either would not, or was not 
 permitted to obey him. 
 
 Then the ears of the whole party were saluted with a 
 familiar sound. This was the deep intonation of Peter 
 Shaver's ass. Upon scenting the blood, he brayed forth 
 his sense of the horrid deed upon the solemn midnight air; 
 and the melancholy reverberations rumbled from shore to 
 shore up and down the river. 
 
 This was succeeded by nine lusty cheers from the whites, 
 while the furious savages made the night more hideous 
 with their demoniac yells. The river was some six hun- 
 dred paces wide, and at that distance Kenton could easily 
 make himself heard and understood. And so he not only 
 boasted of the number of horses he had captured, but 
 ostentatiously paiaded them in view of their recent owners. 
 (Nevertheless, some of them had been stolen from the 
 whites in Pennsylvania by the Indians.) He not onl^ 
 
SECONL SERIES. 19^ 
 
 exhibited the liorscs, but descanted on their stiperior quali- 
 ties, and pointed at the deep shoulders, the broad forehead, 
 and clean limbs, of the steed ^vhich had belonged to 
 Ground-IIog, whom he said he -would scalp the next time 
 he fell into his hands. Then an impromptu dance of vic- 
 tory followed, in imitation of one of the exultant cere- 
 monies of the Indians, at which Charles smiled but faintly, 
 for he thought no good could result from thus wantonlv 
 exasperating the enemy. 
 
 And when it was over, Simon Girty, standing on the 
 opposite shore near a fire he had kindled, and in the light 
 of which, under the shadow of an overhanging tree, he 
 could be recognised, said, in a loud voice, "War is now 
 declared! There are not one hundred white men in Ken- 
 tucky. We'll see you again ; you steal horses, and huzza 
 over it before the faces of their owners !" 
 
 " Shut up, you renegade traitor !" answered Kenton. 
 " The blackest nigger is a gentleman at the side of Simon 
 Girty ! I'll change my name from Simon to Sam, and call 
 my mangy old sheep-killing cur 'Simon' — Simon Girty!" 
 
 "Ah, Kenton," said Girty, "such is your gratitude! 
 I saved your life, and thus you thank me. Very good ! 
 I will be the wiser next time !" 
 
 Kenton was silent for several minutes. It was known 
 that Girty had truly interposed and saved him from being 
 tortured at the stake. 
 
 "I don't deny it, Girty," said he; "and I thank you 
 for it. But I have twice spared your life since then, when 
 you Avere within reach of my rifle ; and I am bound in 
 honour never to kill you, if I can help it. But I owe you 
 nothing. You lead the savages in their attacks, and they 
 slaughter our women and children, — your own people, and 
 perhaps your own kin. I must defend them, and if you 
 should fall by my hand it will be no fault of mine. Ken- 
 tucky is my home, and it shall be my grave,* before I leave 
 it at the bidding of you and your baby-murdering savages." 
 
 Kenton said no more, but sought the repose so much 
 needed after the exciting scenes he had passed through. 
 
 Nevertheless, the eyelids of Charles and Julia were not 
 oppressed by slumber. They eagerly broke open the let- 
 
 * Keuton, we believe, died in Ohio but a few years since. 
 
200 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 ters from hone brought by Skippie. The first one p»erused 
 was from Mr. Schooley. It ran as follows : — " Esteemed 
 Julia: — If this should reach thy hands, thee will be informed 
 that thy guardian and friends have been sorely grieved at 
 thy capture and at the supposed privations thou hast been 
 exposed to in the wilderness ; and thou wilt learn that 
 it is not credited by thy guardian and others that the In- 
 dians were the authors of thy abduction; but we think it 
 was the work of thy pretended friend, the rebel " 
 
 " That must be me," said Charles. 
 
 " How could he be so much deceived?" said Julia, a flush 
 of deep indignation overspreading her forehead. 
 
 " He is not deceived, Julia," replied Charles. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " He is well convinced I had no agency in it." 
 
 " He certainly would be, if he knew all. But what does 
 he say further? Yes," she continued, reading: — "Rebel, 
 Charles Cameron. But I have sent ,£100 to Governor 
 Hamilton fur thy redemption. And if thee will say so 
 to any of the Seneca or Mohawk chiefs, they will conduct 
 thee to Canada, where thou wilt be ransomed ; and I have 
 requested them to send thee by a safe guard to New York, 
 which thee should be rejoiced to learn is now held by the 
 army of George, our liege lord and sovereign ; and from 
 thence thou wilt be permitted to pass with a flag through 
 the rebel army to thy home, where thou wilt be received 
 with affection. The XlOO was truly thy money, upon 
 which thou wert entitled to interest, and which, with other 
 matters of business, we will adjust when thou returnest 
 hither. Mary sends her loving greeting to thee; and she 
 Bends thee divers articles of apparel which thee will pro- 
 bably stand in need of. And now I Avill repeat to thee 
 the great danger thou wilt incur by retaining thy partiality 
 for the rebel youth. The British army is soon to possess 
 all of New Cassarea, (New Jersey,) New York, and Phila- 
 delphia ; and thee must be aware that when the rebellion is 
 {.ut down its adherents will be subjected to forfeitures and 
 other pains and penalties. So, if thee should commit thy- 
 self with the young man, it will be out of my power to 
 serve thee. The whole of the fine estate left by thy father 
 will be lost, and thou wilt be a beggar, mourning over the 
 execution of thy unworthy lover." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 201 
 
 "I shall read no further I" cried Julia, throwing the 
 letter into the fire. Then, tearing open another, she read 
 as follows : — " Esteemed Julia, I pine for thy return. I 
 •would have followed thee, and remonstrated with thy ab- 
 ductors, but it was necessary to secure the harvest which ia 
 to supply us with bread." 
 
 *' llichard loves good eating as well as his sweetheart," 
 said Charles. 
 
 "Oh, better!" said Julia. "And thou knowest, be- 
 sides," she continued, reading, "it hath been decreed in 
 the rebel legislature that all those who abandon their lands 
 shall not possess them again. I would take no part in the 
 awful conflict. I am a loyal subject ; but I would not fly 
 from my home. I am a non-combatant, and cannot 
 abandon our society in conscience or for interest. I hope 
 thee will return and attend the meetings. If thou wilt, I 
 will agree to have our nuptials published 
 
 " That will do !" said Julia, laughing heartily, and like- 
 wise consigning the epistle to the tlames. 
 
 Charles then read a brief letter from his father, charg- 
 ing him to take care of himself and to remain true to the 
 cause of the tyrant's enemies. He said it was probable 
 the armies and fleets of the usurper would seem to prevail 
 at the commencement of the conflict, but that the cause of 
 justice would triumph in the end. France was secretly 
 favouring the Revolution, and would, before its termination, 
 become an open ally of America. He charged his son to 
 sufi'er no uneasiness on his account. There were men 
 anxious to effect his capture, set on, he believed, by Mr. 
 Schuoley, for he was in correspondence with the British, 
 and had already caused some beeves to be driven to them 
 on Staten Island : but they would not succeed. His few 
 Scots remaining with him were vigilant, and his little for- 
 tress impregnable. Besides, it was believed by many, 
 since he escaped burning, that he bore a charmed life. 
 His health was good, and his hours were pleasantly passed 
 over the pages of Shakspeare and the productions of other 
 sons of genius. Commanding him sacredly to guard the 
 captive maiden from every harm, he concluded by imploring 
 his Maker to spare his son for the comfurt of his declining 
 years. 
 
 Charles then, his eyes suffused with tears and his boscia 
 
202 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 swelling with reverence and affection for his parent, would 
 have prevailed on Julia to seek the refreshing repose lie 
 fancied she stood very much in need of. But he knew not 
 the extent of the capacity of the sex for prolonged watch- 
 ing, and she merely smiled at his solicitude and declared 
 that no slumber would visit her eyes if she were to lie down ; 
 but she would be silent while he slept, and guard his peaceful 
 repose. This he objected to, and begged her to read the re- 
 maining letter, — an epistle from Kate Livingston, marked 
 " Liberty Hall, near Elizabethtown Point." It began thus : — 
 " Oh, my dear Julia ! 1 have just learned, by a letter from 
 Mr. Cameron, brought to my father by the dumb but faithful 
 Skippie, that you have been seized by the Indians and car- 
 ried a captive into the wilderness ! But the letter says a 
 great Indian-fighter, named Hugh McSwine, and a band 
 of Scots, are in pursuit, and will certainly overtake your 
 captors. This is startling intelligence, indeed, and distress- 
 ing, though relieved somewhat by the comfortable assu- 
 rance — which is sanctioned by the prophetic looks and de- 
 cisive gestures of Skippie — that you will soon be restored to 
 your friends. And Skippie, in two words, has told me to 
 write this letter, making me understand, I scarcely know 
 how, that it will certainly be delivered into your hands. 
 He sets out on his return in the morning, and I am resolved 
 to write all night !" 
 
 " Do you hear that, Charles ?" said Julia. 
 
 " Yes. Noble, generous Kate ! Read on, Julia, and I 
 will replenish the fire. She employed a whole night in its 
 composition, and it should be read at such a time as this, in 
 the profound depths of the forest." 
 
 " In the first place, then, dearest Julia," continued the 
 letter, " let me beseech thee to be cheerful, and hope for a 
 Bpeedy deliverance, if thou art not already delivered whilst 
 thy sweet eyes are tracing these scarcely-legible lines, 
 blotted by my tears !" 
 
 " And she bids me be cheerful !" said Julia. 
 
 " Glorious Kate ! Read on," said Charles. 
 
 "But, Julia," — thus the letter ran, — "I, too, need the 
 kind sympathy of friends. The British general has offered a 
 large reward for the capture of my f;ither, ;ind it is said 
 that assassins have been engaged to take his life ! Several 
 times we have been forced to fly, upon the landing of noc- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 203 
 
 tnrnal expeditions. And it is averred the Qnalvers do not 
 hesitate to sell them cattle, and deny having such property 
 when applied to by the Americans, who are without gold." 
 
 " Once the enemy surrounded our house, calling upon 
 the governor to surrender. Fortunately, my father was 
 away. Yet they searched the house, but offered me no in- 
 dignity; for they were accompanieil by a gentlemanly 
 young ensign, who pledged his word I should sustain no 
 injury. Finding my father had escaped, they resolved 
 to seize his papers, as he was known to be in cor- 
 respondence with Washington. And, truly, many letters 
 from Washington, and details of future plans deeply affect- 
 ing the cause, as well as several secret resolutions of Con- 
 gress, were at that moment in the house ! But your wild 
 Kate's wit did not forsake her. The papers were locked in 
 the gig-box, then lying in the hall. The box Avas seized, 
 and the point of a bayonet inserted in the lock, when I 
 rushed forward, and — and what do you suppose? Oh, Julia, 
 I told a deliberate falsehood, for which I can be forgiven. 
 I declared the box contained portions of my private ward- 
 robe, and appealed to the gallantry of the young officer to 
 protect them from exposure ; and if he would do so I pro- 
 mised to show them Avhere my father's papers were kept. 
 He placed a guard over tl?e box and followed me into the 
 library, where he seized the old musty law-papers, which I 
 have often heard my father declare no mortal could ever 
 unravel. He did not pause to examine the pleas, affida- 
 vits, declarations, (which, you have heard, are sometimes 
 false and worthless,) but hastened away with his treasure to 
 the barge, as if in fear of being intercepted. He bade me 
 a very polite adieu, however, and hoped we should meet 
 again. And I hope so, truly, after we shall have gained 
 the victory ; for I would thank him for his courtesy. A 
 few hours after this happened, my father returned, and, 
 upon learning what had taken place, he embraced your 
 lying Kate and uttered some of his drollest flatteries 
 
 '' Oh, Julia, I have seen General Washington ! He dined 
 at the Hall one day ; and, although almost every one 
 thinks his chances desperate, he seems cheerful. He is 
 certainly the most amiable and unoffending man I ever saw. 
 How he can be a general and kill his enemies is beyond 
 voy ceirpreheusion. He is good-looking too, — tall, straight, 
 
204 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 and his cheeks tinged with the healthful red. It has beeL 
 maliciously hinted that his colour comes from the bottle, but, 
 I dare say, witliout foundation. He has never indulged im- 
 moderately, and no one ever heard of his being intoxicated 
 
 " And General Wayne was Avith him. He, you know, is 
 called the ' Little Mad Anthony,' and swears like a trooper, 
 sometimes. But his whole conversation was on religion ; 
 and, next to their pay and their rum, he said the soldiers 
 required good chaplains. And then he told many anec- 
 dotes of the Rev. David Jones, a Baptist preaclier, now 
 among the Indians, whom he is extremely anxious to have 
 with him. If you meet with this Mr. Jones, tell him his 
 presence is desired in the camp of ' Mad Anthony.' 
 
 "What shall I do? I did intend to fly to you at the 
 Jenny Jump, and live in Hope.* But, since you have been 
 abducted, it cannot be a place of security. However, I pre- 
 sume the handsome Anglo-Indian chief is near you, which 
 may serve to keep your spirits out of the depths of despair. 
 1 suppose I must remain where I am — between two armies, 
 or, at least, subject to the visits of both. I would be happy 
 if you were with me ; and my father charges me to send 
 you a special invitation to make our house your permanent 
 abode when you return from your delightful tour in the 
 wilderness. Keep a diary, Julia." 
 
 After filling several pages with the domestic affairs of 
 the family, interesting only to Julia, Kate concluded ab- 
 ruptly, saying: — "The day is dawning, and we hear cannon 
 at the Point. The people are running in every direction. 
 I see old Molly Ketchup driving her cow past the orchard 
 toward the woods. She limps, but does not appear to lag. 
 What can the matter be ? I've learned it I The British 
 are landing ! Lord Cornwallis is coming at the head of 
 some 12,000 men. Pa has been in, and informed me that 
 I must be prepared to leave in fifteen minutes. Farewell, 
 Julia ! There ! A cannon-ball has knocked down one of 
 the chimneys. God bless us ! Kate. 
 
 " P, S. — I am now at a cabin in the hills, and Skippie 
 will wait for me to add a few lines. They did not burn 
 the Hall, as we supposed they would ; and, as we ai'e in 
 sight of it, we begin to hope our eyes may not be shocked 
 
 * Hope is the name of a village near the Jenny Jump Mountain. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 205 
 
 by smoke and flames issuing from the darling old honr.e- 
 stead. I am sure that either General Ilowe or Lord Corn- 
 wallis must be occupjing it. Just to think of such a thing: — • 
 eating at our table and sleeping in our beds, while we are 
 fugitives, depending on the charity of Molly Ketchup's 
 cow ! But we are cheerful ; and pa says the American 
 army — rabble I call it, just now — is marching hitherward, 
 
 and will interpose between us and the enemy Did 
 
 you know that they have bestowed on father the nickname 
 of Flintface? He is called by that title all over the Colony, 
 because, in his last message to the Legislature, he said, 
 * We must set our faces like flint against dissoluteness and 
 corruption.' .... Another commotion ! A foraging-party 
 of the enemy ! Oh, what screams at the hut in the valley ! 
 It is poor Molly Ketchup. They are driving away her 
 cow ! Adieu. Kate." 
 
 When Julia ceased reading, the dawn was apparent in 
 the east. Charles heaped fresh wood on the fire, and pre- 
 vailed on her to sleep until the breakfast should be pre- 
 pared. He knew that the meat for her repast was then 
 living and would have to be found and killed ; so she 
 would, in all probability, have ample time for refreshing 
 slumber. He likewise sought repose himself at the side of 
 the deeply-breathing Mr. Jones, who sometimes uttered 
 prayers in his sleep, but more frequently sang snatches of 
 the Psalms of David. 
 
 It was a calm, frosty morning, rosy with the deep red 
 rays of an autumnal sun in what is termed the Indian 
 summer. Boone and Kenton rose perfectly refreshed. 
 
 "I don't know how you feel, j\Ir. Boone," said Kenton, 
 stretching back his broad shoulders, "but I am comfortable. 
 f can breatlie freely on the glorious soil of Kentucky ; and 
 the climate is a thousand times better than it is over the 
 river yonder." 
 
 "The soil and climate are well enough, Simon," said 
 Boone, sighing, " and there's plenty of game. But it 
 makes me unhappy to see so many people coming to cut 
 the trees and shoot the buff'alo and deer. If you and I 
 could only live here alone, I wouldn't ask a better paradise. 
 No matter ! When neighbours get too thick, Daniel Boone 
 can go farther west." 
 
 " 1 like having enough neighboiu's to keep back the In- 
 
 18 
 
206 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 dians and to sell horses to," said Kenton. They thoD 
 disappeared in the cane-brake in quest of game for break- 
 fast, and, before many minutes had elapsed, the sharp rfr 
 ports of their rifles were heard. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 i *'BAVER" PADDY SHOT — A RATTLESNAKE — THE BLUB 
 
 LICKS — SHOOTING BUFFALO — BOONE'S STATION — THE IN- 
 DIAN king's offer declined. 
 
 * It's a barer !" said Paddy, in reply to Van Wiggens, 
 who, upon a^-aking from his troubled slumber, and hearing 
 the report of a gun on the river-bank, had walked in that 
 direction. Paddy, as he answered, was endeavouring to 
 take a steady aim at the "varmint," which, most singularly 
 for a beaver, did not sink beneath the surface, but persisted 
 in its efforts to ascend the low embankment. 
 
 "Let me see !" said Van Wiggens, cocking his gun and 
 peeping over. " Tam your Irish eyes !" he cried, a moment 
 after; "if you shoot him I'll kill you! He's a dousand 
 dimes better as you !" 
 
 " What ! Isn't it a baver ?" asked Paddy, upon hearing 
 a low whine. 
 
 " Baver, de teiffel ! It's my Vatch !" cried Van Wig- 
 gens, dropping his rifle and sliding down into the water, 
 unmindful of the chilling bath, and hugging the poor shiver- 
 ing animal in his arms. "Poor Vatch!" he exclaimed, 
 in broken tones of pity and affection ; " you've been swim- 
 ming all night to reach your master, who has nobody else 
 to love since Mrs. Wan Viggens sold herself to der teiffel. 
 And de savages nearly starved you, Vatch ! See how little 
 your pelly is ! And de tammed fool Irishman," he con- 
 tinued, in tears, " has been shooting at you for a baver, as 
 he calls it. Come, Vatch ! you shall have blenty of my 
 breakfast before te hot fire." Still holding the grateful 
 doij in his arms, Van Wicrgens ascended the embankment 
 and strode toward the fire, while Paddy sat down on a log 
 and gazed after him. 
 
ESCOND SERIES, 207 
 
 Paddy continued to sit tlicre, enjoying the fumes of the 
 broiling venison, and gradually yielding to the exhilarating 
 influences of such a lovely morning in so genial a climate, 
 when, lifting his head, he saw the smoke of a gun just dis- 
 charged on the opposite side of the river 
 
 " What are the blackguards afther now?" said he, solilo- 
 quizing, as he beheld a dozen savages on the bank gazing 
 at him. A moment after, and simultaneously with the re- 
 port, a leaden ball struck the log on which he sat and just 
 between his knees. He was not at first aware of the nature 
 of the messenger, although he felt a stinging sensation 
 from the particles of lead radiating on the hard surface of 
 the wood. He gazed a moment at the blue spot between 
 his legs, and, becoming conscious of having been made the 
 target of the marksman across the river, fell down sud- 
 denly, and screamed " Murther !" so loudly and repeatedly 
 that many of the men came running in that direction. 
 
 The Indians witnessing this scene yelled with delight, 
 not doubting that one of their foes had fallen. 
 
 "Take care !" said Boone, standing over Paddy with an 
 upraised club. " If you stir hand or foot, you'll be bitten !" 
 And the next moment the club descended, and crushed an 
 enormous rattlesnake within a few inches of Paddy's head. 
 
 "Murther! murther! murther!" cried Paddy, rolling 
 away with great power and velocity. 
 
 " Stand up, mon ! Ye're not dead yet, and ye were 
 not born to be shot, droowned, or poisoned," said Hugh 
 McSwine. 
 
 " Och, Mr. Bone," cried Paddy, "I thought these ugly 
 bastes Avent into their hoAvls when the frosts came !" 
 
 " So they do," said Boone. " This fellow was going to 
 the cliff yonder, but stopped to sun himself on the warm 
 eide of the log." 
 
 "And sure I was doing that same thing meself ! But it 
 wasn't the baste that made me cry out." 
 
 " Why should you holler murder for a snake ?" said 
 Kenton. "Why not kill 'em and be done with it?" 
 
 "Och, it was "the bullet!" 
 
 "Bullet?" repeated several. 
 
 "Yes, I'm shat ! The baste made me forgit it! Yes, 
 I'm shat ! See here !" and, unwrapping his leggins, Paddy 
 exhibited several slight punctures and bruises. He then 
 
208 WILD WESTEEl^T SCENES : 
 
 pointed to the blue marks on the log, and described the 
 attitude in which he had been sitting. 
 
 The Avhole party, who had heard the rifle, laughed 
 heartily at Paddy's expense. 
 
 " That was close grazing," said Kenton, " and it would 
 have given a black eye. He must have aimed at the topa 
 of the trees." 
 
 This incident over, the party, after a hearty repast, set 
 out in the direction of Boone's station. They followed a 
 broad buffalo-trail which led to the mineral springs after- 
 ward known as the Blue Licks. 
 
 The climate seemed to have a most extraordinary effect 
 upon the spirits of all. Kenton was continually leaping 
 up, hallooing, and letting off some hunter's joke that pro- 
 duced laughter. Boone's eyes had a bright, merry look. 
 Several of the prisoners who had been captured in Ken- 
 tucky, and among them a hale, hearty fellow named Chap- 
 man, had a propensity for crowing. 
 
 'Too! Vat's dat schmells so?" exclaimed Van Wig- 
 gens, who rode a short distance in advance. 
 
 " The mineral springs," said Charles. " Our horses have 
 been for some time pricking forward their ears and snuffing 
 the breeze. And will we not find buffalo there?" he con- 
 tinued, addressing Boone. 
 
 " Certainly. Don't you see the fresh sign ? And we 
 must kill a supply for the winter." 
 
 A profound silence ensued as they proceeded, and all 
 gazed in admiration at the most lovely country they had 
 ever beheld. The climate was truly delightful, the soil 
 fertile, and the surface pleasantly diversified with hill and 
 valley, woodland and praii-ie. It teemed with game of 
 every description ; and hardly a minute passed that some 
 one "of the party did not behold bufiiilo, elk, bear, or 
 deer, 
 
 Kenton led a number of men in advance of the rest to 
 the Licks, and soon their guns were heard dealing death 
 among the buffalo. Those huge animals had collected that 
 autumn in vast multitudes. They had gone thither from 
 all the adjacent countries for hundreds of miles round, 
 meeting as if by concert at a common rendezvous ; and it 
 was feared they would soon be followed by the Indians, 
 their natural proprietors. Therefore, Boone advise<i a 
 
SECOND SERIES. 209 
 
 speedy departure from the vicinity. A few hours would 
 Buffice for the slaughter of buflalo. 
 
 Boone remained with Charles and Julia, having no dis- 
 position to partake of the sport. His thoughts dwelt upon 
 his family, who had been left at the settlement on the Ken- 
 tucky River, and from whom he had been separated many 
 months. He would soon see them if they still remained at 
 the station. But who could tell, in a time of such vicissi- 
 tudes, Avhat might have happened ? 
 
 " Mr. Bone ! Mr. Bone !" cried Paddy, who, with the 
 rest, drew rein and listened to a strange rumbling sound 
 which appeared to shake the very earth, "what is that? 
 Is it a harrycane ?" 
 
 " Follow me !" cried Boone, with an excited countenance. 
 And they had no sooner paused under the boughs of a 
 dense grove of giant sugar-maples, several hundred paces 
 west of the great trail, than an immense drove of the wild 
 cattle came rushing past. It was a torrent which would 
 have swept through an opposing army. 
 
 " Merciful heaven !" cried Julia, as the astounding ap- 
 parition swept by. 
 
 " There is no danger here," said Charles, breathing 
 freely. "Mr. Boone has saved us." 
 
 "And ye're quite sure we're saved?" asked Paddy. 
 "Then, be the powers, I'll have a crack at 'em!" And, 
 after a hasty aim, he fired at the moving mass of animals, 
 the nearest of them being only some fifty paces distant. 
 " Howly Vargin !" he cried, "I've kelt a dazen at layst. 
 Saa how they tumble over!" He had, indeed, by a lucky 
 shot, brought one of them down, and many of the rest fell 
 over him. Several, untouched by Paddy's lead, were 
 trampled undei'-foot and never rose again. And when the 
 thundering mass had vanished, it was with great exultation 
 that Paddy claimed them all as the extraordinary product 
 of his fire. 
 
 Resuming the broad buflfalo-traii, the travellers ap- 
 proached the Licks. In the immediate vicinity of the 
 springs the earth seemed to have been scooped out or trod- 
 den down many feet in depth, for hundreds of paces in 
 •Mrcuuiference ; and this had been done by the animals 
 resorting thither for ages. 
 
 The hunters had already collected a va/t number of 
 
 18* 
 
210 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 tongueii , and these, with the best of the skins, made quite 
 as heavy a burden as the horses could bear. 
 
 About the middle of the afternoon of the second day 
 after crossing the Ohio, the party paused on the summit 
 of a high clifi' on the northern bank of the Kentucky River. 
 With a palpitating heart, Boone gazed in silence at the 
 narrow tract of bottom-land on the opposite shore. Then, 
 seeing the smoke curling up from the cabins, his face beam- 
 ing with delight, and every nerve quivering with plea- 
 surable excitement, he uttered a loud, clear halloo upon the 
 still air, which was borne over the surface of the bright 
 water. After a brief pause it was answered from the other 
 side by a voice Boone seemed to recognise ; and this was 
 succeeded by a dozen others. Though long given up as 
 dead, Boone's halloo was known. Whoops and cheers 
 were soon uttered in quick succession, and the people were 
 seen running about in great commotion. 
 
 " Thank heaven, 1 see women and children !" said 
 Julia. 
 
 "But not mine! not mine!" said Boone, straining his 
 eyes, with his hands on his forehead. "I see my brother, 
 two sons, but no wife, no daughter ! Gone ! They would 
 have known my voice better than the rest. Not there ! 
 no, they are not there !" 
 
 " You should not suppose they have fallen into the hands 
 of the enemy," said Julia, witnessing his emotion with con- 
 cern, "since the rest seem to have escaped." 
 
 "No," said he, recovering his self-possession, "I have 
 no fear of that. I know what has happened. They sup- 
 posed me dead, and returned to North Carolina. No 
 matter. They have not taken the fort and the country 
 with them, and I can bring them back." 
 
 Kenton, having assembled the horses and men in full 
 view of the little settlement, gave a signal, and the air was 
 rent with cheers. The people on the opposite side of the 
 river seemed almost wild with joy, and sent over all the 
 canoes they could command ; and our party, following the 
 winding path down to the water's edge, were met and rap- 
 turously greeted by the first settlers of Kentucky. 
 And it may be said that the example of extending a hearty 
 welcome to a returning friend or a wandering stranger, 
 practised by those adventurous pioneers, has never since 
 
SECOND SERIES. 211 
 
 been forgotten by their noble and generous descend- 
 ants. 
 
 Julia and Charles, and all the weary fugitives, were now 
 in a place of comparative security. Mr. Jones preached 
 that night to a congregation of not less than sixty men, 
 women, and children. 
 
 Among the women in the fort, or settlement, — for it 
 hardly deserved the name of the former, — were Mrs. 
 McGary, Mrs. Logan, Mrs. Todd, Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Hogan, 
 Mi's. Harrod, Mrs. Bryant, Mrs. Trigg, Mrs. Bulger, Mrs. 
 Harland, Mrs. Harrison, Mrs. Calloway, and others, from 
 whom have descended some of the best specimens of hu- 
 manity, whether in the field or in the forum, that have 
 illustrated our history. Their husbands were absent build- 
 ing small forts or block-houses — called stations — in other 
 portions of the country. 
 
 Nor was Boone quite correct in his conjecture. His 
 wife, it was true, with some of the younger children, had 
 returned to North Carolina. His favourite daughter re- 
 mained, and had been prevented from coming forth on 
 hearing his voice by an attack of the ague, — a disease which 
 had periodically assailed her before leaving Carolina. But 
 she was quite well the next day, and succeeded in cheering 
 the heart of her affectionate father. 
 
 Skippie's bundle was now opened, and Julia over- 
 whelmed him with thanks for the timely addition to her 
 wardrobe. 
 
 The men made but little cliange in their dress, as all the 
 hardy pioneers were habited in buckskin hunting-shirts ; 
 and, with the exception of their faces, which they washed 
 occasionally, their resemblance to the Indians was not very 
 remote. They wore moccasins, leggins, and, in cold wea- 
 ther, blankets, and each had his rifle, tomahawk, and knife. 
 With the latter they carved their meat or scalped an 
 enemy as occasion required. 
 
 After sojourning in the fort some days in perfect repose, 
 those who had no intention of becoming citizens of the 
 country began to make preparations for returning to their 
 distant homes. But these preliminaries were cut short by 
 the arrival of a prisoner who had escaped from the Indians, 
 and Avho stated that the enemy were orfi^anizinn- an armv 
 tor the purpose of exterminating the white intruders ia 
 
'21 "2 WILD WESTERN SCENES 
 
 Kentucky, and that their arrival might be looked for in a 
 fe^v days. 
 
 This, according to Paddy's idea, which he strove in vain 
 to impress upon others, was a conclusive reason why they 
 should hasten to depart. 
 
 The fort was immediately repaired. It consisted merely, 
 of a c^uadrangular structure of some forty connecting log- 
 cabins, the doors opening on the square within. The hardy 
 pioneers reived more upon their own bravery and skill with 
 the rifle for security than upon the usual artificial or scien- 
 tific defences of civilized warfare. 
 
 At night, when they supposed the Indians were lurking 
 in the vicinity, the cattle were driven within the enclosure, 
 the gates fastened, and one or two sentinels placed on duty. 
 And such was the reliance on the prowess of their defend- 
 ers that some of the aged females, on one or two occasions, 
 declined rising from their couches during a night attack, 
 wherein the enemy quadrupled the little garrison in nume- 
 rical force- 
 On the present occasion, vrhen the history of Charles 
 and Julia became known, and the sanguinary adventures 
 of Hugh McSwine were related and the horse-stealing 
 feats of Simon Kenton duly confessed, a belief prevailed 
 that a more determined and desperate attempt to destroy 
 the settlements would be made than any hitherto expe- 
 rienced ; and preparations were made accordingly. Every 
 man had a duty to perform, and Paddy was made to under- 
 stand that any proposition to diminish the strength of the 
 garrison at such a moment would be a pusillanimity deserv- 
 ing of summary punishment. 
 
 And during this period of apprehension and suspense 
 the Rev. Mr. Jones reaped his harvest of souls. II(! 
 preached and prayed with great effect. No less than five 
 women and three men were plunged by him beneath the 
 pellucid waters of the Kentucky River. 
 
 But still the savages delayed the assault, and, as the 
 frosts were crisping the leaves, it was hoped the invasion 
 would be postponed until the ensuing year, when the influx 
 of emigrants would furnish men enough to meet the enemy 
 in the field. Under this supposition some of the people 
 grew incautious ; and among them were Boone's daughtet 
 Mary, Miss Calloway, and Julia, avIio, becoming intimate 
 
SECOND SERIES. 213 
 
 asiociates as soon as they mot, were afterward insej)arablo 
 companions. They explored every hill and valley in the 
 neighbourhood. They called the saucy squirrels that gazed 
 at them from the low boughs their bonnies, and clapped 
 their hands as the startled buck sprang up before them in 
 the tangled brake. They gathered the wild plum, the haw, 
 the per,>^imnion, and the papaw. And at dusky eve, when 
 the men ceased to garner the corn, and, guided by the sound 
 of their bells, souijht the cows and horses amone; the cane 
 and drove them within the enclosure of the fort, the three 
 girls loved to linger, striving, but in vain, to find the 
 mysterious whippoorwill that filled the valley with its 
 wailing. 
 
 And at night, when the weary labourer, his hunger satis- 
 fied, was steeped in profound slumber, the old women, not 
 requiring recuperative repose, usually sat till a late hour 
 before the broad hearths, the glowing embers of which 
 illuminated the recesses of the quiet cabins. Then it was 
 that Julia listened to the many thrilling narratives of "hair- 
 breadth escapes" from the savages and fearful encounters 
 with wild beasts and enormous serpents. Such was the 
 staple material of the fireside conversation in the new set- 
 tlements. And, although many a truthful tale thus nar- 
 rated harrowed the feelings of the auditor, yet there was a 
 fascination in the recital, a romance in the simple loves 
 and distresses, which caused the most timid maiden still to 
 linger and listen. And their dreams reproduced the most 
 terrible scenes, to be fdlowed, too often, alas, by the reality 
 of suffering and death ! 
 
 One evening, just at the first glimmer of twilight, when 
 the owl came flapping down from the hills and the whip- 
 poorwill was uttering its first lamentation, the three girls 
 were still lingering on the margin of the river. 
 
 " Come, Mary," said Sue Calloway, "don't you hear the 
 bells ? They are driving in the cows and horses, and will 
 soon be looking for us." 
 
 " Don't fear it, Sue," said the daughter of Boone ; "they 
 will not miss us — I mean you and I. Julia, though, is 
 always looked for and watched over by the handsome bird 
 of pre3^" 
 
 "Bird of prey?" continued Sue, seeing Julia plunged 
 lii. one of her spells of musing abstraction. 
 
214 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " Yes ; don't you remember father says they called him 
 White Eagle ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I forgot. And we poor neglected crea- 
 tures may wail \yith the whippoorwill," she added, with a 
 sigh. _ 
 
 " Simon Kenton," whispered Mary, while the other 
 blushed and turned aside her face, "says he loves the 
 Bong of the dusky bird, and knows where it perches when 
 singing." 
 
 " Eagle !" said Julia, roused suddenly from her reverie. 
 "Did you not say something about the eagle ?" 
 
 "Yes, — a wliite eagle," replied Mary. 
 
 " You mean Charles. You need not smile. You cannot 
 annoy me by alluding to him." 
 
 "We would not annoy you if we could," said Mary. 
 " We merely desired to rouse you. Y'^ou seemed uncon- 
 scious of the lateness of the hour." 
 
 "But seel" exclaimed Julia; "the hills opposite are 
 tinged with the silver light of the moon before we can 
 behold the disk of the orb. You know we cannot see it 
 rise from the fort. Go in, if you will not stay with me, 
 and I will follow presently." 
 
 The girls did as she requested, and left her standing under 
 a hawthorn-tree. They had become accustomed to Julia's 
 little eccentricities, which they attributed solely to the 
 delightful influence of love. 
 
 Julia awaited the rising of the moon, which seemed to 
 beam on her pale forehead as a light from her distant 
 home ; and she smiled as she gazed at the joyful messenger 
 from the East. Then turning into the little path leading 
 through the clustering vines and bushes toward the gate of 
 the fort, she was startled by the rustling of dry leaves in 
 her immediate vicinity, and paused to listen. To her dis- 
 may and horror, a tall Indian, of herculean frame, arose 
 and stood before her. She did not cry out, but her heart 
 throbbed audibly. 
 
 " Fear not. I am a friend," said the Indian, in very 
 good English. 
 
 " Who are you? What do you want?" asked the trem- 
 bling girl, quickly, and glancing hastily round, as if in quest 
 of some avenue of escape. But there was none. 
 
 " I am one who will do you no ill. I want a few brief 
 
SECOND SERIES. 21.'l 
 
 wor.ls with you, and then you may go to your friends. 
 You have heard the White Eagle say his brother Tliayen- 
 danegea was incapable of lying. I am Thayendanegea." 
 
 Julia breathed more freely. She was aware that tho 
 savages often professed friendship when they meant harm ; 
 but it was not so with the great sachem of the Six Nations. 
 
 "Speak on; I am listening," said she. 
 
 " First," said the chief, making a stride toward tho 
 shrinking girl, and gently taking her unresisting hand, 
 "promise that you will not make known my presence in 
 this vicinity. On that condition you have my word that 
 you shall return to your friends unharmed by me — if you 
 desire it." 
 
 " If I desire it ? But I promise. Now be quick !" said she. 
 
 " Yes, if you desire it. I am now a king. If you will 
 go with me, — voluntarily, I mean, — you shall be my bridr, 
 my queen, and I will love you during the whole of my life. 
 My sister loves the young companion of her infancy, and 
 mourns over his desertion. Let him marry her. We will 
 seek a retreat where the Avhite man cannot come, and 
 be happy. The tomahawk shall be buried. We will live 
 in peace. Thousands of innocent lives Avill be spared. The 
 Great Spirit you worship will smile on you " 
 
 "Impossible!" said Julia, in tears. 
 
 "It is the last offer I" continued Brandt. "Another 
 moon, and it will be too late. The tribes of every nation 
 are rousing, and, when the hatchet is sharpened and the 
 war-paths are trodden, neither orators nor sachems will be 
 able to Avithhold the sinewy arms of the warriors. The 
 Mohawks love their wliite brother, and their king loves the 
 white maiden. Speak ! But think of the benefits you may 
 confer or the sufferings entail on your fellow-creatures." 
 
 "Oh, Brandt, it is impossible!" 
 
 "Go, then!" 
 
 "Oh, tell me," she said, pausing in her flight, "where 
 your sister is, and if she reproaches us." 
 
 " She complains not — reproaches not — but loves on. 
 She would die, if she were not a Christian and did not 
 fear to offend her God." 
 
 " Bless her ! Oh, Thayendanegea, tell her I love ner 
 dearly ! But say her sister fears her, too — or else sh^ 
 would have her always near " 
 
21(> WILD WESTEKN SCENES: 
 
 " Brandt would slay her first ! Say no more ! Farewell. 
 Breathe to no one what has passed this night. And yet, 
 Julia," he continued, in faltering and softened tones, 
 " you may reveal it to Charles, if he will promise not to 
 seek me during the next twelve hours, in the event of re- 
 jecting my oiler. " 
 
 And hefore the girl could reply the chief had A^anished ; 
 and, when she turned her face again in the direction of the 
 fort, she saw Mary and Sue approaching with hurried 
 steps. 
 
 " The moon is half an hour high," said Mary, " and yet 
 you tarry." 
 
 " I've heard of people being moonstruck," said Sue. 
 And then, seeing Julia pale and distressed, she took her 
 hand tenderly and asked her forgiveness. 
 
 " There ia nothing to forgive. Sue," said Julia, returning 
 the caress. " You did not mean to olfend me. That is 
 sufficient." 
 
 "But why are you so cold and pale ?" asked Mary. 
 
 " Am I?" was all the response Julia vouchsafed. 
 
 " Yes, truly. And I am sure you have seen something 
 which has terrified you." 
 
 " Seen something ?" 
 
 "A ghost, perhaps," said Sue. " It was not an Indian, 
 or she would not have remained here alone ; nor a lover, 
 for he is in the fort seeking her." 
 
 A sad smile was all this sally produced. And then they 
 entered the gate. 
 
 "Y'^ou have been weeping," said Charles, late in the 
 evening, observing Julia's abstraction while the rest were 
 singing merry songs. 
 
 "And for what, pray?" replied she, with a faint smile. 
 
 " I know not, unless it be to return. But why sliould 
 you seek to hide your grief? That is the mj^stery." 
 
 "It is a mystery and a secret," said the girl, her face 
 assuming a deathlike paleness, "which I cannot reveal 
 antil you have first promised not to betray it to others. ' 
 
 " I cannot conceive the necessity. But I promise." 
 
 Then she related in a low tone what she had seen and 
 listened to. Charles became very pale, and long remained 
 silent. 
 
 " And you told him it was impossible ?" 
 
st:cond series. 217 
 
 •• Can you doubt it ?" 
 
 " Certainl}' not, Avlien you say so." 
 
 '' t have said so. What else could I tell him ? Why 
 should he presume to make such an offer?" 
 
 " Ituc. And he is ambitious. He could never love 
 thee as I do. Pardon me. ]\Iy mind reverted to the in- 
 Dtances in ancient history of persons sacrificing themselves 
 for their country — suffering death to save the lives of 
 others. And Brandt has heard of them, and would be 
 famous. But he is incapable of loving, and could make no 
 one happy." 
 
 "Would the result be as he promised? Would peace 
 ensue ?" 
 
 " No ! lie is mistaken. He could not restrain them. He 
 might detach some of the warriors from this section by 
 leading them against others. But I doubt even that. The 
 Shawnees of Chillicothe and the AVyandots on the Miami 
 have sworn to drive the Avhite people out of Kentucky. It 
 would be a bootless sacrifice. You would be miserable, and 
 I could never love the Brown Thrush but as a poor, simple, 
 wild- wood sister." 
 
 " Nay, do not fear I shall become an advocate of the 
 arrangement," said she. "The experience of poor Van 
 Wiggens would alone deter me. But here is Skippie, who 
 has been invisible for several days." 
 
 " Skippie," said Charles, gazing at the imperturbable 
 features of the mysterious messenger, " how did you get 
 in?" 
 
 " Over !" said he, his gestures indicating that he had 
 entered over the roof without being seen by the sentinels. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "^Going," said he, pointing eastward. 
 
 " When ?" 
 
 "Morning." 
 
 "He will take any letters we may write, Julia," said 
 Charles. 
 
 Skippie nodded assent. 
 
 " Then, like Kate, I will write all night," said Julia 
 " Oh, I will freeze her blood with an account of the interview 
 I have just had with the terrible Brandt !" 
 
 "You may injure your health, or at least your eyes, 
 Julia, by writing so much. Permit me to work for you. 
 
 19 
 
218 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 I will be your secretary. My letters can be despatched in 
 an hour." 
 
 " Indeed ! I will do my own writing. What ! permit you 
 to see my letters ? You are very, very kind, sir ! Where 
 is Skippie ? Gone ! No matter. But in truth, Charles, 
 I will not injure my eyes. My journal has been copied in 
 anticipation of some such announcement from the faithful 
 Skippie. And you know it is to be enveloped and sealed 
 by Kate, and opened at some distant day when we shall 
 not be living to blush at our silly confessions. I shall have 
 plenty of time." 
 
 Charles returned to his room to prepare his letters, and 
 Julia likewise hastened to perform her task. And it may 
 be remarked that, as our narrative is partly founded on 
 these documents, they were faithfully delivered by Skippie. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HORSE-HUNTING ADVENTURE — KENTON AND PADDY — 
 GROUND-HOG KILLED — THE GIRLS CAPTURED — THE PUR- 
 SUIT — PETER AND HIS ASS — THE BATTLE, AND RECOVERY 
 OF THE GIRLS. 
 
 After the appearance of Brandt, Charles, accompanied 
 by such of his party as were disposed to go with him, made 
 several excursions round the fort, always ending at the 
 river. But no traces of Indians were discovered, and he 
 concluded his forest brother must liave come alone, cross- 
 ing and recrossing the river at the fort. 
 
 After this the vigilance of the people relaxed again, and 
 the girls resumed their twilight rambles, forgetting that, 
 although no savages might be within sixty miles of them at 
 one noon, numbers could arrive before the next. 
 
 "Come, Paddy," said Simon Kenton, about this time, 
 "let's go and see after the horses." It had been thoir 
 custom to count them three times every day, and to collect 
 the stragglers. 
 
 " 'Faith, and I don't see the use of it," said the reluctant 
 Paddy, who^ although accustomed to taking care of horses 
 
SECOND SERIES. 210 
 
 in comfortable stables, never approached them in the caue 
 without fear and trembling. 
 
 " The use of it ? Don't we find some of them fast in the 
 vines almost every day ? There are no Indians about ; 
 but still they require looking after. I will go alone, if you 
 prefer working in the field gathering corn." 
 
 But Paddy did not prefer any such labour, knowing that, 
 if he should be suddenly assailed by the Indians while 
 working in the field, he would be quite as liable to injury 
 as when among the horses with a gun in his hand. 
 
 So the two sallied forth, and were soon counting the 
 horses, which crowded around them for their accustomed 
 salt. 
 
 "Hello!" cried Kenton, gazing about wildly, "where's 
 Dan ?" This was the name of his favourite steed. 
 
 "Sure enough, where is he?" said Paddy. "And I'd 
 like ye to tell me who's here to answer a question the 
 likes o' that? The dumb brutes can't talk in our lan- 
 guage, and Paddy knows jist about as much as yerself, 
 Mr. Kenton." 
 
 "All the rest are here," continued Kenton. "It's 
 strange ! Dan is generally the first to lick my hand." 
 
 " And who knows if a painter hasn't caught him ? They 
 say thim carniferous varmints always choose the best. If 
 there's a tinder woman about, they'll niver gnaw the bones 
 of a man. And it's dacent in 'em to spare us who are 
 bound to go out in the wild woods and cane-brakes. And 
 what is it ye're listening to, Misther Kenton?" 
 
 Simon had stepped apart and stooped down in a listen- 
 ing attitude. 
 
 " All right, Paddy !" said he, rising erect again, the 
 dark cloud gone from his brow. " I hear Dan's bell. But 
 it's a long ways off, down the river." 
 
 " And is he not a sinsible horse ? He's promenading 
 betwixt the stations, guarding and proticting the forts. 
 He's a jewel of a baste, and good for his weight in goold. 
 If we stay here a while he'll come to us, and so we naadn't 
 budge afther him." 
 
 But this mode of reasoning did not satisfy Kenton. He 
 insisted that something very unusual had caused the sepa- 
 ration of his best and gentlest animal from the rest. In- 
 deed, the whole diove were iu the liabit of following Dan's 
 
220 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 bell, and he must hasten to see -nhat had happened. In 
 reply to Paddy's objections to going with him, he merely 
 said if any Indians were prowling about the greatest 
 danger would be in the immediate vicinity of the fort. And, 
 if Paddy's argument failed to convince Kenton, Kenton's 
 hint was not thrown away on Paddy, and so they set out 
 together down the river. 
 
 Their progress at first was very slow, as they traversed 
 a dense cane-brake ; and when they emerged from this 
 they encountered tangled blackberry-bushes, often covered 
 with grape-vines. 
 
 " Och, but I'm torn all to paices, Misther Kenton !" 
 said Paddy. " Stop, if ye plase, till I cut meself loose." 
 
 " Tear through 'em, Paddy, as I do," said Kenton ; 
 "your buckskin shirt and leggins can stand it." 
 
 '' If the skane of the dead buck can stand it, Misther 
 Kenton," said Paddy, " divil the bit can the skin of a live 
 Paddy ! Me hands and face are full of prackles, and the 
 blood of a thrue son of Erin is flowing in this nasty wil- 
 dherness." 
 
 "Hush, Paddy !" said Kenton, again placing his ear near 
 the ground. " I've lost the bell !" 
 
 " And what betther could ye expict in sich a place as 
 this? And if you iver find it agin it'll not be worth the 
 stooping for." 
 
 "There it is!" cried Kenton, smiling. "I hear it now. 
 But we must get out of this. It is over yonder in the 
 woods. Dan must have moved since we started." 
 
 " I'm much obleeged till him. And sure he's a sinsible 
 horse to lade us out of these purgatorious brambles. But, 
 upon me sowl, I haven't yit heard the first tankle of his 
 bell!'; 
 
 " You have not lived in the forest, Paddy," said Kenton, 
 leading the way into the tall sumachs, where their progress 
 would be less obstructed. 
 
 "That is thrue," said Paddy; "houses were made for 
 men to live in, the wild woods for wild animals and black- 
 guard savages. Yit, Misther Kenton, I have as many 
 ears and as good ones as any person, and now^ I hear 
 Dan's bell. I did not listen afore." 
 
 "We are getting nigher to him. But what the d ] 
 
SECOND SERIES. 2'2l 
 
 did he straggle out here for? And why didn't the rest go 
 with him ?" 
 
 " Will ye tell me one thing, Misther Kenton ?" 
 
 "May-be so." 
 
 "Wasn't it wrong in him to come out?" 
 
 "Yes, hang me if it wasn't !" 
 
 " Hang me, then, if it wasn't right in the others not to 
 go wid him ! And so Mr. Dan must give up his bell to 
 Misther Charles's horse." 
 
 " I don't believe he did it without a cause. His bell- 
 band may be fast to a bush. Good-morning to your night- 
 cap !" Tins was uttered when a large buck sprang up a few 
 paces in front of them, and bounded away with his tail erect, 
 the under or white portion of it, as usual, exposed to view. 
 
 "Be jabers, he's stopped to look at us!" said Paddy, 
 throwing his gun up to his shoulder. 
 
 " Don't fire !" said Kenton. 
 
 " Don't fire ? And what's your raison for that same ?" 
 
 " I have a reason." 
 
 " And won't ye tell it before the deer's gone ?" 
 
 " Oh, he's gone long ago. Don't you see him rushing 
 over the ridge yonder, three hundreds yards off?" 
 
 Paddy, on turning his head again, caught a glimpse of 
 the buck at the place indicated. He seemed much offended, 
 and followed his companion several minutes in silence, and 
 until Kenton paused abruptly, his lips slightly parted and 
 his rifle half in readiness to fire. 
 
 "And what're ye frowning about now?" asked Paddy; 
 " any child can hear the bell widout stooping down till the 
 falthy ground." 
 
 " Hush !" said Kenton, in a low voice. " Sit down here 
 with me, and don't speak above a whisper." 
 
 " Not spake above a whasper ! For fear, I suppose, the 
 horse'll hear us and run away?" 
 
 "Fool!" 
 
 " Did ye mane that for me, Misther Kenton ?" 
 
 "Be quiet, if you don't want to lose your scalp !" 
 
 " Och, I beg yer pardon, misther ! And there are In- 
 dians about, sure enough, thin?" 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " And how could any one want to lose his sculp ? Ya: 
 oughtn't to name any sich thing! I'll go back!" 
 
 ID* 
 
222 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " I wish you were in the fort ! Could you find the way 
 back yourself?" 
 
 " Niver ! My head's been turned and twisted so I 
 wouldn't know which way to start. Won't ye go wid me ?" 
 
 "And lose his scalp? No, indeed! That fellow's hair 
 shall be dancrling from my belt when I go in, or my name's 
 not Simon Kenton ! Poor Dan's gone — that's certain !" 
 
 " Won't ye explain all this to me, Misther Kenton ? I 
 can't understhand a jot of it." 
 
 " The yaller rascal's stolen my horse, and thinks he is 
 sure of my scalp in the bargain. Didn't you hear that ?' 
 
 " The bell, ye mane ? Of coorse ?" 
 
 " Well, are there any flies at this season ? 
 
 "No, not that I knows of. But there's abundance of 
 flaas in the garrison." 
 
 " That bell is not shaken by Dan. It is in the hand of 
 an Indian !" 
 
 " Let's begone, Misther Kenton ! Let's give the alarm 
 to the paple. Run as fast as ye plase, and I'll kape up 
 wid ye !" 
 
 " Hush ! Be quiet ! I will take that yaller rascal's scalp 
 in with me, or Sue Calloway and Simon Kenton will never 
 be man and wife ! I place my hand on this log and swear 
 to it!" 
 
 " And all for a single horse, which'll be bit by a rattle- 
 snake next summer !" 
 
 " Paddy, you must do precisely what I tell you, or 
 creep back to the fort alone !" 
 
 " Will ye tell me to do ony thing dangerous?" 
 
 " Dangerous ? We don't know what that means. There's 
 no such word in Kentucky. All that I want you to do is 
 to hide under this log, and not let your own ears hear a 
 rustle from you, or you may be tomahawked." 
 
 " I'll be still as a mice ! And mayn't I cover meseif 
 wid the laves?" 
 
 "I don't care. When you hear my gun " 
 
 " Och, Misther Kenton, how am I- to tell yer gun from 
 an Indian's ? It may be the report of a blackguard ra- 
 vage's rifle shooting yerself !" 
 
 "Shooting your granny! I thought everybody could 
 tell the crack of my rifle. I can tell Boone's, blindfolded 
 Every man's voice is diff'erent, and so is his gun's." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 223 
 
 " And Paddy's schoolmasther didn't tache him the lan- 
 guage o' rifles !" 
 
 "No matter. The first gun you hear will be mine, and 
 the yaller rascal shaking the bell -will be spraAvling on hi? 
 face and the hot blood pouring out of his head. When 
 
 you hear my gun, jump up and make a d 1 of a noise. 
 
 Fire off your gun — load and fire as fast as you can — beat 
 the bushes, yell, talk Irish, and make 'em believe — that 
 is, if any more of 'em are about — at least twenty men are 
 coming. Now hide yourself !" 
 
 Paddy, knowing he could never find the way back to the 
 station without a guide, was under the necessity of obeying. 
 Then Kenton rose up and uttered a prolonged and not un- 
 musical halloo, as he was in the habit of doing to attract 
 the ear of his horse, which had, like most other horses, 
 learned to know the voice of his master. Immediately 
 after, the bell was shaken quite loudly, in imitation of the 
 rattle made by a horse suddenly lifting his head. 
 
 Kenton smiled, and was just about to glide away in a 
 difi'erent direction from that whence the sound of the bell 
 proceeded, when he was called to softly by Paddy. 
 
 "Misther Kenton! Misther Kenton!" said he, "for 
 the sake of the Howly Immaculate Mother, don't be afther 
 calling 'em here, and laving me to be tomahawked be 
 meself !" 
 
 "Lay still, you fool, and be silent, or I'll tomahawk 
 
 you myself, and be rid of you!" 
 
 " Och, murther !" said Paddy, submissively sinking back 
 under the leaves. 
 
 Kenton glided away stealthily, and made a wide circuit, 
 so as to attain the opposite side of the locality of the bell, 
 lie knew every inch of the ground, and was aware that 
 the Indian was posted in a dense grove of sugar-maples, 
 some forty yards from the thicket of sumachs in the midst 
 of which Paddy was ensconced, and precisely in front of 
 the deer-path leading through it into the woods ; and he 
 was satisfied the face of the foe would be kept steaddy in 
 Ihat direction. Hence his motive for the loud halloo before 
 executing his project of circumvention. 
 
 No cat ever moved with less noise than Kenton in the 
 execution of his well-conceived purpose. And so far was 
 lie from experiencing any trepidation, that more than once 
 
221 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 he was under tlie necessity of pausing to repress an inclina- 
 tion to laugh at the anticipated astonishment of the Indian 
 and the ludicrous picture his fancy painted of a savage 
 watching in readiness to shoot him as he emerged from the 
 sumachs, when he should be aiming at the back of the 
 Indian's head from the opposite direction. 
 
 And there was an instinctive prescience in his concep- 
 tion. For when he approached the designated point, with- 
 out the crush of a leaf or the disturbance of a bough, he 
 beheld the Indian, with the bell in his hand and a compa- 
 nion at his side, sitting on the fallen trunk of a tree which 
 Kenton himself had cut down to capture a bear. 
 
 The Indians were laughing silently at the anticipated 
 success of their stratagem, and expressing by mimicry the 
 amazement they had no doubt their victim would exhibit 
 when, instead of seeing his horse, he should find himself a 
 prisoner or hear the whistling of their balls before he could 
 present his own rifle. 
 
 Kenton paused and surveyed them when about forty 
 paces distant. Their faces were steadily turned toward the 
 place where the path entered the woods ; and they were so 
 near it they could have heard the approach of the horse- 
 hunter before he came in view. Their position on that side 
 was sufficiently obscured by the intervening trees to render 
 any extraordinary precaution unnecessary. 
 
 But they were exposed on the other side ; and Kenton 
 was determined they should hear from him, if they did not 
 see him, although he was a little embarrassed by the pre- 
 sence of one more than he had calculated upon. Shifting 
 his position several times for the purpose of getting their 
 heads in a line, so as to perforate them both, several minutes 
 were fruitlessly expended ; for, from the shape of the fallen 
 trunk and the inequality in the height of the Indians, the 
 project was impracticable. 
 
 He poured out a charge of powder in his buckhorn tube 
 and placed it beside a bullet at the root of the tree behind 
 which he was standing, so that he might be in readiness to 
 repeat his fire before the surviving enemy could rush upcm 
 him. Then, taking a deliberate aim at the one with the 
 bell, whom he recognised as the liberated chief, Ground- 
 llog, and the original owner of the horse Dan, he fired. 
 The bell and Indian fell together. The other Indian sprang 
 
SECOND SERIES. "225 
 
 up astounded, and, after glancint:; liurriedly in every direc- 
 tion but the right one, prostrated liimsclf beside his welter- 
 ing companion, as if to elude the aim of an enemy, 
 
 Kenton, meanwhile, lost no time in recharging his rifle ; 
 and the sirviving Indian, finding himself not assaulted, 
 and not knowing where the foe might bo concealed, hastened 
 to make his escape. But, as is almost invariably the case, 
 h« determined to bear off his dead comrade. So, being a 
 broad-shouldered, stalwart fellow, he rose with his neck 
 between the dead one's legs, the feet in front and the body 
 behind, back to back ; and with his burden he ran through 
 the woods, continually turning to shield himself from the 
 aim of any foe that might be watching by interposing the 
 dead Indian. 
 
 So skilful were his manoeuvres that Kenton was finally 
 under the necessity of firing through the dead body to reach 
 the living Indian. And this he did effectually, for they 
 both lay prostrate a moment after the discharge of his 
 rifle. He ran up and scalped them, dispatching the last 
 victim, who had been only desperately wounded, with his 
 tomahawk. 
 
 No sooner was this bloody work accomplished than Dan 
 was discovered a few paces distant, behind the roots of an 
 immense fallen tree. Thither the savage was bearing his 
 companion, and would have soon effected his escape. 
 Kenton threw his arms round the neck of his snorting steed 
 in a loving embrace, and then, mounting him, dashed into 
 the sumach-thicket where Paddy lay concealed. 
 
 "Paddy! Paddy! Where are you?" cried Kenton, his 
 horse standing with his neck arched over the log where 
 Paddy had buried himself. 
 
 "And is it yerself who asks?" replied Paddy, in a tre- 
 mulous voice, and at the same time springing up from the 
 leaves, — an apparition which frightened Dan, and Kenton 
 was near being thrown. 
 
 "Yes. Why didn't you answer me at first?" 
 
 "And how could I know it was yerself till ye toAvld me ? 
 Murther ! murther ! I see the nasty sculps hanging to yer 
 belt !" 
 
 "Two of 'em, Paddy! So Sue Calloway and I may be 
 man and wife after all, if she'll have me. But why didn't 
 you fire and shout as I told you?" 
 
 N 
 
226 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "Now come, Misther Kenton, how could I tell they 
 wasn't running this way, right over a hody?" 
 
 " Well, suppose they had ? Wouldn't you have 'em come 
 where you could see 'em?" 
 
 " Och, murther ! thej'- might've kilt me, and Paddy, sure, 
 would niver have enjoyed the smiles of any darlint wife/' 
 
 " But there would have heen no danger. Your firing 
 and shouting would have frightened them away." 
 
 " D'ye say that ? And, sure enough, there'd be no 
 danger? Then here goes for a spicimen of the noise I can 
 make in a case of needcissity !" And he sprang upon 
 the log and fired his gun, and yelled, and howled, and 
 beat and twisted the bushes, to such a furious extent that 
 Kenton, half dead with laughter, was forced to alight from 
 his amazed horse to keep from being thrown. 
 
 "Are you mad?" cried Kenton. 
 
 " Mad, is it ? As blazes !" said Paddy, firing off his gun 
 again. "Am I not fighting the Indians?" 
 
 "You are making a fool of yourself; and if there are 
 any more in hearing they'll soon put a stop to your howl- 
 ing. That's not the noise a brave man makes, and I'll 
 leave you !" 
 
 " Misther Kenton ! Misther Kenton !" cried Paddy, in- 
 stantly sobered, "ye are the bravest and the best man in 
 the world, and I will tell ivorybody of yer great dades this 
 day. And sure, now, ye'll let me ride behint ye?" 
 
 Kenton could not resist the flattery; and, after some 
 difficulty, Dan permitted Paddy to occupy a seat on his 
 strong back ; but there was no more Irish howling. 
 
 Kenton, when approaching the station, uttered the horse- 
 halloo, a sort of whinnying yell used by the scouts to denote 
 their success in the acquisition of horses. He listened in 
 vain for a response. All seemed to be silent. Astonished 
 and somewhat chagrined at this, he sounded the startling 
 scalp-halloo. This never failed to produce a prodigious ex- 
 citement among Indians or borderers. But on that occa- 
 sion, and to the amazement of Kenton, only one or twc 
 responsive a oices were heard ; and when he dashed through 
 the gate there was no enthusiastic crowd to receive him 
 with plaudits. 
 
 Boone approached and examined the scalps in grave 
 silence. McSwine sat apart with a dark cloud on his 
 
SECOND SERIES. 227 
 
 brow. Van Wifigcns was still, staring at his dog, and 
 "Vatcir" liiraself stooil like a marble quadrupeil, his blunt- 
 tail sticking up immovably. The voice of Mr. Jones was 
 heard in the large cabin where he usually preached. He 
 was praying fiercely. Maledictions were uttered and 
 vengeance invoked. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Kenton," exclaimed Mrs. Calloway, rushing 
 out into the area, her long hair streaming loosely behind, 
 "they've got her !" 
 
 "Got who? who's got? what's what?" cried Kenton, 
 quickly, trembling from head to font, and almost unnerved 
 by the indefinable apprehensions which oppressed him, in- 
 tensified by the singular change in the countenances of all 
 and the disordered hair and tearful eyes of the woman. 
 
 " Sue ! the Indians have got Sue !" she screamed ; and 
 then fell prostrate at the feet of the scout, whose breathing 
 was quick and oppressive. 
 
 " Oh, them !" cried Kenton, in a shrill voice which 
 
 rang throughout the building. 
 
 "Yes, tarn dem !" said Van Wiggens. 
 
 "Vatch" barked fiercely. 
 
 "Come! come!" cried Charles, rushing into the area 
 full-armed, and habited as an Indian. " We want ten men 
 — the best in the station — all volunteers — to go in pursuit. 
 Boone and I will lead." 
 
 Then Kenton, as if his sinews, which had been appa- 
 rently paralyzed, were suddenly enfranchised from the 
 spell that bound them, sprang up in the air, and, striking 
 his feet together several times before descending, crowed 
 vociferously, like a cock. 
 
 "I knew you'd be one, Simon," said Boone. 
 
 ^'■One? and Sue gone ? — I'll be six!" and, letting his 
 rifle fall gently to the earth, he struck the palm of his left 
 hand a violent blow with the fist of his right. 
 
 "Mary's gone too !" said Boone, in a husky voice. 
 
 "0 Lord!" said Kenton; "and I was after Dan, an i 
 didn't know it ! But we'll foller 'em to the other end of 
 creation ! They've roused a hornets' nest now ! I feel as 
 strong as a buffalo bull ! I could bite off the head of a 
 nail ! I could — " 
 
 " And Julia !" said Charles — " they've taken her too !" 
 
 *'That clips my tongue !" said Kenton, striding in front 
 
22? WILD WESTERN SCENE? : 
 
 of Chrtrles and gazing steadfastly in his face. " I'm dumb 
 noAv. I can't curse a bit. I feel like having the lock-jaw. 
 My arms ache ! I could bust a rock with my fist ! I'd 
 agree to strip and fight ten Indians at once. They might 
 have their tomahnwks ; all I'd ask would be my knuckles 
 and my teeth ! Why are we standing here like scared 
 turkeys that don't know which way to fly ? Don't let U3 
 burn daylight, or moonlight either. Where's the volun- 
 teers ? I'm six !" 
 
 The number designated, after such a speech from Kenton, 
 were in instant readiness ; and the most extraordinary 
 thing was the persistence of Paddy in his resolution to ac- 
 company them. He said if the girls were not recovered 
 he didn't care to keep his "sculp." 
 
 The three girls had been seized by a party of Indians 
 near the spring, on the river-bank, just after Kenton and 
 Paddy departed in quest of the horses. They had crossed 
 the river in the night in a canoe, which they concealed in 
 the bushes near the water, and then hid themselves in the 
 vicinity. The seizure of the girls was followed so quickly by 
 the pushing ofi" of the canoe that, by the time their screams 
 had roused the men in the fields, they had been conveyed 
 to the opposite shore of the river. Their captors were 
 only four in number ; but on the northern bank they w'ere 
 joined by ten others. They hastened away toward the 
 Ohio, but rather in a northwest course than in the line 
 the fugitives had traversed from the Scioto 
 
 The girls were placed on Indian ponies, while most of 
 their captors ran on foot. Kenton had diminished the 
 number of horses in the Indian country. 
 
 Julia looked round, expecting to see Brandt ; but he was 
 not present ; nor were any Mohawks among them. All 
 were Senecas. 
 
 They had not proceeded far before they were met by 
 Peter Shaver, on his jackass, whom the Indians abused for 
 lagging behind. Peter had been a volunteer in the expe- 
 dition, breathing vengeance against the whites, but deter- 
 mined, at the first opportunity, to desert to them ; and it 
 was to prevent such an occurrence, perhaps, that he waa 
 required to retain his ass, which could not be beaten out of 
 his slow gait nor easily made to abandon the scenes and 
 Bociety to which it had so long been accustomed ; and, be- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 229 
 
 Bides, the chief "Popcorn" afforded a fund of amusment 
 which the Indians enjoyed most lieartily, and no doubt 
 Peter's life had been spared that he might continue to be 
 the Laughing-stock of the savage warriors. 
 
 "You know the jack can't keep up," said Peter, in 
 deprecation of their reproaches. 
 
 "You be dern !" said the leader. 
 
 Just then the ass, snuffing the breeze which blew from 
 the south, and upon which was borne the scent of the biood 
 of the Indians slain by Kenton, began to bray. 
 
 "Dern ! stop him !" cried the leader of the party, who 
 drew his knife and threatened to cut the animal's throat. 
 
 " Wait till I get down !" said Peter, not at all reluctant 
 to be rid of his ass. " Now cut away as soon as you please," 
 said he, when dismounted. 
 
 This produced some laughter when the Indians compre- 
 hended the reason of Popcorn's willingness to sacrifice his 
 long-eared steed ; and therefore the animal's life was 
 spared. But they choked him into silence, and, turning 
 his head back, whipped him along the path in the rear of 
 the ponies. 
 
 Then ensued an animated conversation among the In- 
 dians, in their own dialect, some portions of which Julia 
 was enabled to understand. They were discussing the 
 probable result of the pursuit they anticipated, — the num- 
 ber of pursuers, and how many would be left to defend the 
 station. From this Julia inferred the object was to weaken 
 the garrison. 
 
 Mary and Sue, though seemingly quiet and subdued, 
 had not forgotten the lessons learned in the wilderness, 
 repeated at many a gloAving fireside. They broke off small 
 boughs from the bushes, and strewed fragments of their 
 handkerchiefs, and threads drawn from their clothing, in 
 the path they were traversing. 
 
 This operation was seen and understood by the leading 
 chief; and he did not forbid it until they reached the head- 
 waters of the South Fork of Licking River, near where 
 Mount Sterling stands. Here every effort was made to 
 conceal their trail. The girls were threatened with the 
 torture if they did not cease to scatter threads and twigs 
 vn the ground. 
 
 Daylight was fading, and the shimmering stars appeai-ed 
 
 20 
 
2S0 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 in the east; and, although the girls were both weary and 
 hungry, their captors paid no attention to their alleged 
 wants. On the contrary, they Avere forced to ride among 
 the slippery rocks in the midst of the stream, then exceed- 
 ingly low, as there had been a prolonged drought. The 
 Indians, sure of foot and reckless of exposure, followed. 
 The ass was sometimes urged forward by blows behind, or 
 dragged along by the ears. In this manner they proceeded 
 several miles, leaving, as they thought, no trace behind 
 them. But the Indians were outwitted by the girls, as 
 many wiser men had been before them. In the dusky 
 shades of the clustering boughs, the Senecas could not pre- 
 vent their captives from detaching some of their long silken 
 hair and hanging it on the willows. 
 
 Their progress was now very slow, and it seemed they 
 had no intention of flying far. The object was to confuse 
 their pursuers. The girls were dismounted when the water 
 became deeper. The ponies and the ass were taken to the 
 opposite side and driven down the right-hand bank of the 
 stream, while the captives were conducted along a path on 
 the other side, which soon diverged from the river and 
 led into the hills. 
 
 It was a well-beaten path, and quite dusty. The girls 
 were ordered to keep in the centre of it and follow their 
 leader in single file. Behind, an old Indian brought up 
 the rear, obliterating the footprints with a bough of cedar, 
 and leaving no traces but his own moccasin-tracks. 
 
 They travelled thus until, from the height of the moon, 
 the girls supposed it to be near midnight, when they again 
 struck the river, which had increased in W'idth and volume. 
 They descended the bluff and halted in a beech-bottom, 
 near the mouth of a small rivulet that emptied into the 
 larger stream. And here they were surprised to find the 
 ponies, the ass, and the Indians who had separated from 
 them several miles back. 
 
 The poor girls, supposing they would be compelled to 
 mount again and pursue the journey all night, were ready 
 to despair. They feared it would be impossible for their 
 friends to follow. But no indignities were offered them, 
 which, at least, was an assurance that their lives would be 
 spared. The Indian never insults his female prisoner 
 unless he means to kill her afterward. And Peter 
 
SECOND SERIES. 231 
 
 Shaver had several times made encouraging -winks and 
 gestures. 
 
 The girls were not required to mount the ponies again 
 that night. A fire was kindled under a rude shelter hastily 
 constructed, and some buffalo-tongue, sliced and broiled, 
 sufficed for their supper 
 
 Not fearing their captives would attempt an escape, the 
 Indians returned upon their trail for the purpose of more 
 effectually destroying it. Peter, known to be incapable 
 of finding his way in any direction in the absence of a 
 beaten path, was left to keep the fire replenished. 
 
 It was during this temporary withdrawal of the savages 
 that Julia learned from Peter that their seizure was to be 
 attributed to Queen Esther, and that Brandt had nothing 
 whatever to do with it. On the contrary, the great 
 sachem had returned, silent and terrible in his gloom, 
 from a solitary excursion, and, leading his people toward 
 the East, announced his intention to strike his tomahawk 
 into the heads of the white people living nearest to the 
 Eastern lakes. His aunt, Gentle Moonlight, and sister, 
 Brown Thrush, were still remaining at Chillicothe when 
 Peter left the village; and Calvin likewise remained, and 
 had been promised the hand of the beautiful Indian girl 
 provided he would head the Delawares, Avho had just joined 
 the confederacy of the Six Nations. To this, however, he 
 objected; and Gentle Moonlight did not sanction the 
 project. The forest maiden was silent, knowing her aunt 
 could dispose of her as she pleased. But she sang con- 
 tinually of the "White Eagle, and her thoughts and dreams 
 were of the woods, and streams, and flowers, beyond the 
 grave. 
 
 When their captors returned, the girls were ordered to 
 occupy a small space in the crotch of a fallen tree near the 
 fire. Leaves sufficed for a couch, and a buffalo robe for a 
 Bhelter from the dew or frost. They kept themselves warm 
 by clinging together under their weighty coverlet, and en- 
 deavoured to cheer each other with such prospects of a 
 speedy rescue as the circumstances afforded. Their whis- 
 pers were at last hushed in slumber, for the idea of escape, 
 unassisted by their friends, never occurred to them. They 
 dreamed of those they loved best, and that they had been 
 delivered from the hands of the enemy ; but in the morn 
 
232 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 ing tliey awoke to the sad consciousness that thej were still 
 in captivity 
 
 After a slight repast the journey Avas resumed ; and the 
 Indians were merry Avith the conviction that they had 
 eft'ectually concealed their trail. 
 
 Their progress the second day was neither rapid nor in 
 the most direct course for the Ohio River ; and it became 
 evident that the Indians looked for the arrival of friends 
 who would he interposed between their captives and the 
 stations of the white men. Being out of meat, several of 
 the warriors diverged from the path in quest of deer, and 
 their rifles were soon heard in various directions. This 
 convinced Mary Boone that they no longer feared pursuit; 
 but it did not quite extinguish her hope. 
 
 The first deer brought in, as usual, set Peter's ass to 
 braying. Mary could not avoid laughing, and the Indians 
 patted her on the head and said, "Brave Captain Boone's 
 daughter — laugh at Popcorn's jack — good squaw!" And 
 it was a singular characteristic of the Indian to praise, and 
 spare, and love Boone, whom they dreaded more than any 
 other foe. 
 
 In the evening they encamped at an early hour, having 
 recrossed the Licking. The place where they rested was 
 at the mouth of a creek emptying into the river, known 
 since by the name of Indian Creek, about a mile from 
 Cynthiana. It was a narrow bottom, overgrown with beech- 
 trees, and a position well adapted for defence. And here 
 the girls found a better shelter than that of the preceding 
 night. It seemed to have been an ancient camping-ground, 
 for old forks were found standing. 
 
 Leaving Peter with the girls, the Indians dispersed in 
 various directions, to be satisfied, as usual, that no enemy 
 lurked in the vicinity. 
 
 Peter amused himself firing at the ducks that pitched 
 into the mouth of the creek, that being a famous place for 
 them to collect of evenings ; and, finding a canoe in the 
 vicinity, he obtained his victims without diflficulty. And 
 Mary and Sue undertook to dress and roast them. This 
 ^as done much to the satisfaction of the Indians, who pur- 
 took heartily of the fowls, and praised the girls for their 
 skill in cooking. 
 
 At night the repose of the captives was disturbed by the 
 
SECOND SERIES. 233 
 
 howling of wolves. Those animals seemed to have collected 
 in great numbers in the vicinity; and occasionally their 
 glaring eyeballs, as they stood on the opposite side of the 
 creek and gazed at the fire, were plainly discernible. 
 
 •' I guess I can blot out one of their eyes," said Peter, 
 raising his gun to his shoulder. 
 
 " Totem ! — Seneca Totem !" cried the leader of the In- 
 dians, striking up the muzzle of the rifle ; and the ball 
 whistled over the tree-tops. 
 
 "I beg pardon," said Peter; "I forgot the wolves were 
 your brothers, and that I was connected with the same 
 respectable family." 
 
 The Indians comprehended his speech in part, but did 
 not attach any importance to the jest. But they attached a 
 superstitious signification to the presence of the wolves, or 
 to their mode of howling on that particular night. They 
 were even kind enough to throw the fragments of their 
 feast to them, but this did not silence their cries. 
 
 " Mr. Shaver," said Julia, as she leaned upon Sue's 
 friendly shoulder, watching the glowing embers, and unable 
 to sleep, " how did you like the family into which you were 
 adopted ?" 
 
 " I guess you mean how I disliked it. There was no 
 liking in the matter." 
 
 " I suppose Mr. Van Wiggens disliked it quite as much 
 as any one, since he embraced the earliest opportunity to 
 get away." 
 
 " I guess he did. He was my adopted mother's hus- 
 band, you know. They had a row the first night. She 
 was drunk, and wanted to make him drunk too. And I 
 reckon he had no particular objection to being drunk, for I 
 have seen him in that way ; but it was the most abominable, 
 outrageous liquor you ever tasted." 
 
 "I never tasted any, Peter." 
 
 " I beg pardon. Even Paddy, my new brother, couldn't 
 swallow it, and he had a will to get drunk and forget his 
 troubles." 
 
 " So none of you tasted it ?'" 
 
 "I guess we did, though ! The scent of the stuff filled 
 the wigwam. It druv out Paddy and his daddy. I fell 
 asleep, or I'd'a gone too." 
 
 "What did Diving Duck say in the morning?" 
 20* 
 
234 WILD WESTERN SCENES." 
 
 " It'd've kept two or three interpreters busy to translate 
 
 her words. She jabbled like a whole flock of parroquets. 
 She was always a famous scold, and the Indians dislike 
 scolding wives as much as white men do." 
 
 "Do they? 
 
 " Darned if they don't ! And some of the squaws have 
 tarnation bitter tongues ! But Didapper, seeing she had 
 no husband to listen, soon stopped her Niagara Falls of 
 words, and took up the frying-pan. The frying-pan is 
 what she used to beat her old man with. She gave me a 
 rap over the head, and it rings yet ! And she told me if I 
 didn't bring back my father she'd marry me ! I guess she 
 may, if she ever catches me." 
 
 " Hush !" said Mary, in a low voice. 
 
 "What do you hear?" asked Julia. 
 
 "Lie down, Peter !" whispered Mary; then, turning to 
 Julia, said her eye had caught a signal from her father. 
 
 " I saw nothing," said Julia. 
 
 "There it is again!" said Mary, pointing at an acorn 
 that fell near the fire and rolled to their feet. 
 
 " That is an acorn," said Julia. 
 
 "I know it," responded the other. "But we are not 
 under an oak-tree." 
 
 "If it be your father, why cannot I see him?" asked 
 Julia, rising softly and gazing round. "No," she con- 
 tinued, " there are no bushes here to hide any one. I fear 
 you are mistaken." 
 
 " I am not ! The signal is for us to lie down, so as not 
 to be in the way of their bullets." 
 
 Julia involuntarily clung closer to her companions, and 
 Peter himself seemed inclined to maintain a more intimate 
 proximity to the girls than, under other circumstances, 
 would have been permitted. 
 
 " How quietly the Indians sleep !" whispered Julia. 
 
 "They always do," said Mary; "and we must not move 
 or speak above a whisper, whatever we may hear or see, 
 until bidden by my father. The Indians will not have time 
 to kill us, and we must not be afraid.' 
 
 Soon after, their deliverers were seen to glide from be- 
 hind the trees and stand with their guns pointing at the 
 Indians. But the lieads of the girls, as they peered over 
 the crotch of the fallen tree, were between the rifles and 
 
SECOND SERIES. 235 
 
 tte sleeping savages. Boone, by an emphatic gesture, com- 
 manded them to lie down and be still, which they obeyed 
 instinctively. The next moment a deadly volley was fired 
 into the midst of the unconscious savages, and such as 
 escaped the fatal lead sprang up, yelling horribly, and dis- 
 appeared in the forest. 
 
 The girls rushed into the arms of their deliverers ; and 
 Sue Calloway was embraced, and lifted up, and kissed, by 
 Kenton. 
 
 " Sue !" said he, " Td wade through fire forty foot deep 
 to save you !" Sue said nothing, nor opened her eyes, her 
 face reclining on her deliverer's shoulder. 
 
 And Julia clung to Charles, while Mary wept with joy 
 on the breast of her father. 
 
 "Be me sowl, I'm hungry!" said Paddy; " and here the 
 savage blackguards have been having afayst to thimselvesi 
 And what do ye call that same noise ?" he continued, ar- 
 resting his hand as it was conveying the half of a roasted 
 d ick to his mouth. 
 
 It was the familiar sound of Peter Shaver's jackass, 
 some forty paces distant, braying terrifically. 
 
 "Hello! Where's Popcorn?" said Paddy, upon recog- 
 nising the voice of the beast. 
 
 " Here I am, Paddy Pence !" said Peter, rising up. 
 
 "Divil take me if I belave ye!" cried Paddy, aiming 
 his empty gun at Peter's breast. " You're one of the sa- 
 vage Indians who saized the young ladies. Surrinder, or 
 you're a dead man !" 
 
 " I rather guess I can soon convince you I am Peter 
 Shaver, if you'll throw down the shooting-iron and stand 
 up to a fair fist-fight," said Peter, deeply affronted. 
 
 "None of your nonsense !" said Boone to Paddy ; " and 
 do you go and stop that ass's mouth," he continued, ad- 
 dressing Peter, who obeyed reluctantly. 
 
 "And what's that same?" cried Paddy, dropping his 
 duck into the fire It was the warhoo]) of the rallied 
 Senecas, and a moment after then- balls rattled like hu»l 
 •^bout the fire; but none of the party wcro killed, and only 
 two were slightly wounded. Boone and Charles deposited 
 the girls in the place of security, and ordered the men to 
 p:5t themselves behind the trees out of the light of the 
 fire. This was done immediately, and a desultory conflict 
 
286 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 was kept np until early dawn, when the Indians retired 
 into the wilderness beyond the creek. 
 
 When the gray morning appeared, Charles left his tree 
 and approached the shelter which concealed the girls ; and 
 the first object that attracted his gaze was the form of 
 Paddy. He was snoring lustily beside the silent though 
 watchful girls. Charles roused him with a smart blow, and 
 the Irishman sprang up and stared in amazement. 
 
 •'I was dhraming, Misther Charles," said he. 
 
 "And what business had you here?" 
 
 " Och, I was proticting the ladies ! But I was so hungry 
 and tired, I fell aslape. I beg the swate craters' pardons !" 
 
 Boone discovered a slaughtered deer which the Indians 
 had hung upon a tree beyond the reach of the wolves ; and 
 this sufficed for breakfast. 
 
 Without loss of time, the party set out on their return 
 to the station. Kenton had found the ponies, which the 
 Indians left behind. But neither Peter Shaver nor his ass 
 could be seen ; and it was supposed he had been recaptured 
 by the Indians upon going out to silence the braying. 
 
 " Be the powers," said Paddy, " may-be it wasn't Pater 
 afther all! And I was cheek by jowl with a savage 
 inemy !" 
 
 Ahhough the loss of Peter was naturally regretted, yet 
 the party had been too successful to mourn a great deal 
 over his fate, whatever it might be ; and the joy of the 
 enfranchised girls was a sufficient recompense for their 
 fatigues and perils. 
 
 And Sue, although Kenton could not obtain the pledge 
 he desired, acknowledged her deep indebtedness to her 
 bravo and generous deliverer. 
 
 Julia, in the exuberance of her recovered spirits, amused 
 Charles and the rest with a recital of the information she 
 had received from Peter regarding the inconsolable Didap- 
 per so cruelly deserted by her lord ; and poor Van Wiggen3 
 was heartily congratulated upon his escape from the frying- 
 pan. 
 
 " Tam dem I te vimmen !" said he. " And I shall pe in 
 te fire, ven I gets back mit te oder Mrs. Wan Viggeus !" 
 
 The hairs hung by Sue on the boughs pendant over the 
 water, as she was assured by Kenton, had enaljled them to 
 follow the trail of the Indians. But Sue did not thank her 
 
SECOND SERIES. 237 
 
 beau for the compliment, for her hair was very led, — a 
 colour nev^er admired by its possessor. 
 
 Toward evening, and after a pretty good day's travel, 
 the paity were surprised to perceive signs of a large party 
 of Indians, which had passed southward within the last 
 twenty-four hours. This discovery was perhaps a fortunate 
 one. They might but for it have encamped upon such 
 ground as would have made their fire visible to the enemy; 
 but now, instead of this, they resolved to push forward and 
 cross the river without halting. This they effected before 
 midnight ; and their arrival at the station was the occasion 
 of general rejoicing and of thanksgiving by the Rev. Mr. 
 Jones. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SIEGE OF BOONE'S STATION, AND BATTLES — BROWN THRUSH. 
 
 Runners arrived the next day from Hoy's, Bryant's, 
 Logan's, and Harrod's stations, with the startling intelli- 
 gence that Indians had been seen in their respective vicini- 
 ties. From the simultaneous appearance of the enemy in 
 different places, it was inferred that all the forts were to be 
 attacked at once, and, if possible, demolished at a blow. 
 
 Preparations were made to repel any assault, and to 
 withstand a siege. The grain was gathered and all the 
 stock confined within the hollow square of cabins. 
 
 Nor had these measures been taken a moment too soon ; 
 for, the day afterward, the enemy appeared in considerable 
 force on the south side of the river, and surrounded the sta- 
 tion. They consisted principally of Indians, — Wyandots, 
 Shawnees, and Western Delawarcs ; a small party of Brit- 
 ish from Canada, commanded by Duquesne ; and some half 
 a dozen renegade Americans, among whom were the Girtys. 
 
 Duquesne desired a parley, and professed to have been 
 charged by Governor Hamilton to offer such terms as could 
 be honourably accepted by the settlers. But their treacher- 
 ous purpose was soon discovered. 
 
238 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 From that moment the deadly strife began. On all 
 sides the fort was assailed, for it Avas surrounded completely. 
 But the fatal aim of Kenton, McSwine, and others, stretched 
 so many of the savages on the plain that they were com- 
 pelled, in despite of Duquesne's orders, to fall back and 
 seek shelter behind the trees and under the protecting 
 bank of the river. 
 
 At night the assault was renewed, and the besieged had 
 to fire at the flash of the enemy's guns. The night was 
 dark, the sky overcast with clouds ; and the blazing arrows 
 whizzing through the air, the continued fire of rifles with- 
 out, in a crescent form, extending half-way round the fort, 
 and, Avithin, radiating outward to the enemy, formed a 
 grand and terrific spectacle. 
 
 The females moulded bullets for their defenders and 
 carried them food, so that they might not be under the 
 necessity of abandoning their posts; and a certain num- 
 ber of the men, who were not expert with the rifle, or un- 
 practised in shooting "at the flash," as it was called, were 
 detailed for the purpose of watching the blazing arrows 
 and extinguishing the roofs and sides of the cabins when 
 ignited. Among these Paddy had been placed, much 
 against his will, for he greatly preferred peering through a 
 small loophole to exposing his person on the huts. 
 
 "And now, Mr. Bone," said he, leaping down, "I 
 naadn't stay up there ony more, for all the water's spilt." 
 
 Boone long remained silent. His great error — indeed 
 the only error he had committed in the location of his fort — 
 was now painfully apparent. The spring was some dis- 
 tance above, and in possession of the enemy ! The stock 
 of water, as Paddy said, was exhausted ! 
 
 "Pill your buckets with the damp earth!" the pioneer 
 exclaimed; "and if that gives out you must roll upon the 
 fire and smother it with your hands. If one cabin burns, 
 all must go, and every one of us will be scalped !" 
 
 Paddy rushed back to his post, pale and desperate. lie 
 thought it better to be shot than burned ; but he kept as 
 much as possible in the lee of the apex of the roofs. 
 
 So far, only two of the gai'rison had fallen ; but the 
 enemy suff"ered severely, and the death-halloo was heard 
 continually, as Boone, or Kenton, or McSwine, fired " at 
 the flash," — an achievement hitherto unattained by the In- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 239 
 
 dians. At first they believed their warriors were accident- 
 ally stricken ; but it could not long escape their observa- 
 tion that they always received the fatal wound in the head, 
 and most generally in the eye, and when in the act of 
 firing themselves. This discovery induced them to observe 
 greater caution, and not to fire more than once or twice 
 from the same position. 
 
 Toward morning a smart shower fell, much to the relief 
 of the garrison, and apparently in answer to the petition 
 of the Rev. Mr. Jones, who watched and prayed alternately. 
 And about this time the besiegers ceased firing, and it was 
 believed by some they had abandoned the attempt to reduce 
 the fort. This illusion, however, was soon dispelled. For, 
 early in the morning, Kenton, stuffing his buckskin coat 
 with straw and surmounting it with his cap, pushed the 
 effigy through an orifice in the roof. It represented one 
 looking out boldly on a field supposed to be deserted by 
 the enemy. In an instant several sharp reports were 
 heard, and, Kenton making the man of straw fall back in 
 imitation of one fatally wounded, a yell of savage exulta- 
 tion was uttered 
 
 "Look at that. Sue!" said Kenton, pointing to the per- 
 forations in his garment. 
 
 " I'll mend it for you, Simon," said she. 
 
 " Yes, you'll mend my coat, but you don't care for the 
 wound under my vest." 
 
 "That Avas not done by a savage," said Mary, smiling 
 composedly, being familiar with such scenes. 
 
 "A savage could not be more unfeeling," said Kenton. 
 Then, listening to the reiterated shouts without, he con- 
 tinued, " The yellow d Is know my coat, and are re- 
 joicing over my death. You see, Sue, what a great man 
 I am in their opinion. They count me six, and I am six 
 in any common crowd ! But won't I astonish 'em when 
 they see me the next time ?" 
 
 They were interrupted by the entrance of Boone and 
 Charles, with excited countenances. 
 
 "Oh, what is the matter now?" asked Julia. 
 
 "Be not alarmed, Julia," said Charles, taking her cold 
 hand. " We shall defeat them yet. Boone has conceived 
 a plan which will frustrate the purpose of Duquesne and 
 Girty. ' 
 
240 WILD WESTERN SCENER: 
 
 " What purpose do you allude to ?" 
 
 " Have you not seen how turbid the river has become ?'' 
 
 " Yes. It has been observed by all. Was it not caused 
 by the rain ?" 
 
 " Look at the stream above the spring." 
 
 Julia did so, and perceived it was clear, and then ex- 
 claimed, " They are mining ! They will burst up the ground 
 and appear in our midst !" 
 
 "No! be the powers, no!" cried Paddy, springing up. 
 " And is it undermining us they're afther ? liCt Paddy 
 alone for countermining 'em. H.e'll be in his ilement with 
 the spade. Misther Bone, if ye'll give me a spade, I'll do 
 the sarvice of three men. I'll give the yaller blackguards 
 a lesson in the art o' digging !" 
 
 Boone smiled, and said if Paddy and a few others would 
 work with expedition the danger would soon disappear. 
 And Paddy performed wonders with the spade, — his natural 
 implement. But again great distress was felt for the Avant 
 of water, which, however, was never suspected by Duqucsne, 
 who doubted not a well had been dug in the fort. 
 
 Another shower fell during the day and revived the spi- 
 rits of the besieged ; and toward evening, from the accu- 
 mulation of earth thrown up by Paddy and his co-labourers, 
 the Scots, the enemy, perceiving their design had been 
 counteracted, abandoned the attempt to effect a subterra- 
 nean passage. They recommenced firing from several 
 points, and manoeuvering in such manner as seemed likely 
 to produce a sally from the garrison. Once, for the pur- 
 pose of inducing the whites to come forth, they affected to 
 be panic-stricken and in full retreat on one side, while on 
 the other all was silent and still, as if no foe lurked in the 
 vicinity. 
 
 It was in vain. Boone and Charles understood their 
 purpose, and succeeded for a long time in restraining the 
 more impetuous and less experienced of their friends from 
 pursuing the enemy. 
 
 There was one man, however, more intractable than the 
 rest, named McGary, who swore that half the men were 
 cowards ; and, late in the day, when the foe made a final 
 effort to draw them out on the east, McGary, in disregard 
 of the urgent remonstrances of Boone, issued forth, fol- 
 lowed by a few others, and charged the savages. Instantly, 
 
SECOND SERIES. 241 
 
 lis had been apprehended, the main body cf Indians spranj^ 
 up from the place of" their concealment on the "svest, and 
 made desperate cfibrts both to storm the garrison and to 
 intercept the sallying party. Tliey reached the gate ot" the 
 enclosure, which they hacked "with their tomahawks. In 
 several places they succeeded in setting fire to the cabins, 
 while a detachment, led by Girty, got between McGary 
 and the station. 
 
 Boiling rain-water and molten lead were contributed by 
 the women to aid in repelling the attack ; and the fire was 
 extinguished and the assailants hurled back with loss. But 
 the situation of McGary and his men became desperate. 
 
 Driven from the gate and the cabins, the main body of 
 the enemy were soon concentrated near the spring, and 
 kept up an incessant firing on the men who had inconsi- 
 derately left the defences and were noAV endeavouring to 
 fight their way back to the friendly shelter. 
 
 McGary's men at length concealed themselves in a "sink- 
 hole," — a funnel-shaped depression in the earth often met 
 with in Kentucky, — about ninety paces distant from the fort, 
 but not more than forty from the spring. From this posi- 
 tion they returned the fire of the enemy at the embank- 
 ment of the river, but were liable at any moment to be 
 assailed from an opposite direction by the decoying savages 
 they had gone in pursuit of. 
 
 " There !" exclaimed Boone, listening intently, " they 
 are doomed unless we save them ! Girty is coming on the 
 other side !" 
 
 "Let's plunge into 'em heels over head!" said Kenton. 
 
 "I don't believe any are now on the west of us," said 
 Charles. 
 
 Boone darted a look of admiration at the young man. 
 
 "That's the idea!" said he. "They must not kill 
 McGary. Take the Scots with you into the brake and 
 make a circuit beyond the sink-hole. Give the attacking 
 halloo as a signal. We will meet you at the spring." 
 
 Words were few and brief, and the order was executed 
 without delay. The enemy retreated up the river, leaving 
 a number of their dead on the ground, and McGary was 
 rescued, but not without the loss of several of his men. 
 
 Charles and Kenton followed the foe until they made a 
 stand iu the thick woods, when Boone sent them word — 
 
 21 
 
242 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 himself remaining at the spring, supplying the garrison with 
 water — to desist from the pursuit. 
 
 The order was well timed ; for the enemy, recovered from 
 the surprise, were preparing to charge in turn. And when 
 the whites were re-entering the garrison the bullets of the 
 Indians were pattering around them. 
 
 The exasperated Indians exposed themselves more reck- 
 lessly than ever, and challenged the white men to coino 
 forth again and have a fair fight in an open field. The 
 garrison, being outnumbered three to one, of course declined 
 the invitation. 
 
 In the course of the day the besiegers were reinforced 
 by several straggling parties ; and on each occasion the 
 accession was announced by a particular halloo, w^ell under- 
 stood by Charles. 
 
 " That was the fierce howl of the Senecas," said Charles 
 to Julia, whom he had briefly joined. 
 
 " The Senecas !" iterated Julia, in terror. " I hoped 
 they Avere gone ! Their presence here is proof that you or 
 I, or both, have especial reason for painful forebodings." 
 
 " I think not," said Charles. " No doubt it is the party 
 which captured you, and some of the servile instruments 
 of the vengeful Esther. They fear to appear in her pre- 
 sence without being able to conduct one or both of us thi- 
 ther as prisoners." 
 
 "And what do you suppose would be our fate?" asked 
 Julia. 
 
 " If the council of sachems did not interfere it would be 
 a terrible one. The longer Esther hates, the more impla- 
 cable she becomes ; and we have thus far th^varted her 
 designs." 
 
 "Yes, it is that party; I know it now," said Julia, 
 listening to a familiar sound. 
 
 This was the braying of Peter Shaver's ass ; and it was 
 followed by the shouts and mirthful laughter of the Indians 
 and British. No chief among them seemed to attract more 
 attention than the renowned Popcorn. 
 
 Just then Paddy ran in. 
 
 " Och, Misther Charles," said he, with wide-staring eyes, 
 " Misther Bone wants me to go out and help Misther 
 Kenton, ^ho's as crazy as a loon, to catch his horse. It 
 got out of the gate and is playing round the fort, and tho 
 
SECOND SERIES. 243 
 
 bloody savages are watching to kill the first man vrno lays 
 hands on him." 
 
 "If it is Kenton's favourite steed," said Charles, it 
 must be recovered, or its master will be lost." 
 
 " And INIisther Bone says I ought to go out and expose 
 me body as a target, because tlie horse knows me. I shall 
 be careful in forming intimate acquantances with other 
 paple's horses hereafther ! I'll shoot, or I'll dig, but I 
 won't go out horse-hunting wid the blackguard savages!" 
 
 When Charles accompanied Paddy to the gate, which 
 was held partly open to admit of ready ingress if Simon 
 should return with his steed, he beheld a spectacle which 
 riveted him to the spot. The horse, having become im- 
 patient of his confinement, was now making amends by 
 taking sufficient exercise. He ran round playfully, but 
 would not permit Kenton to approach near enough to place 
 his hand on his mane. He reared, kicked up behind, and 
 then rapidly circled round his master. 
 
 The Indians, hoping to capture the spirited animal, came 
 from behind the trees and embankments which had shel- 
 tered them, and gazed with interest at the scene. They 
 hoped the horse would entice his master within their reach ; 
 and they forbore to fire, fearing, if the horse were killed, 
 Kenton would elude their grasp. 
 
 Alternately, when the steed avoided a skilful attempt of 
 his master to sieze him, or when Kenton by some ma- 
 noeuvre balked the horse in his purpose of passing him, 
 shouts of applause and laughter came alike from the be- 
 sieged and besiegers. At last, Avhen all eyes were fixed 
 upon the spectacle, and the deadly strife seemed suspended 
 by mutual consent, they were startled by the renewed bray- 
 ing of Peter's ass, and the next instant that distinguished 
 animal, perhaps recognising the horse as an old acquaint- 
 ance, rushed forth from the tangled brake, with the 
 frightened Peter on his back. Peter strove in vain to turn 
 him aside, out of the range of the rifles of friend and foe, 
 to which he was equally exposed. 
 
 Fearing the loss or desertion of " Popcorn," several of 
 the Indians fired at the ass; but so greatly convulsed were 
 they with laughter that their aim was wide of the mark, 
 and Peter was resistlessly borne along toward the fort. 
 The no\)le horse pricked forward his ears and stared at the 
 
244 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 approaching beast. Evidently he did not recognise his old 
 acquaintance, whether from contempt of his meaner nature 
 or because of the change in his aspect — for the Indians 
 had painted the poor creature most fantastically — was not 
 obvious; but, snorting loudly, the noble steed turned and 
 ran toward the gate, followed by Kenton, and both were 
 quickly admitted within the enclosure, amid the yells and 
 huzzas of the spectators. 
 
 " Don't shoot me ! Don't shoot me !" cried Peter, his 
 braying ass still trotting directly toward the gate. " Don't 
 shoot I" he continued, with his arms spread out, and his 
 face turned now toward the fort and now in the direction 
 of the besiegers. "I ain't an Indian ! I ain't an Indian !" 
 cried he ; " and I guess I'm on your side !" 
 
 " Who are you ?" demanded the man at the gate, who 
 had never before seen Peter or his ass. 
 
 " I'm Peter Shaver ! I'm Peter Shaver ! Don't shoot ! 
 Let me in !" 
 
 Boone himself threw open the gate and admitted Peter. 
 And when the jack met his numerous acquaintances, male 
 and female, within the area, he ran about and brayed very 
 rapturously. 
 
 There was much joy over the recovery of the long-lost 
 Peter, and he was congratulated upon successfully running 
 the gauntlet of two fires. 
 
 " Talking of fires," said Peter, " I reckon I can tell you 
 some news that'll keep you from freezing this winter. 
 The Indians have concluded to burn every mother's son of 
 you ! I saw 'em roast a poor fellow the other day ! I 
 guess I'll never have a pleasant dream again." 
 
 " Was it a drame ?" asked Paddy. 
 
 " A dream ! You'll see soon. They know you. They 
 say they'll make splinters of the Irishman to kindle the 
 others with." 
 
 " Och, murther ! and will they split me up before they 
 kill me, and burn me before I'm dead ? Och, Paddy, 
 Paddy! why did ye lave the cabbages of yer own native- 
 born counthry !" 
 
 "That's a sensible remark," said Peter; "and if I ever 
 set my toes in Harford streets once more, old Trumbull 
 ma}' hang me for a Tory before I go fighting the savages 
 ttirain." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 24.'l 
 
 "Everyone to his post!" cried Charles. " Thoy are 
 coming from all directions!" 
 
 " Reserve your fire !" shouted Boone; "and when they're 
 within twenty paces let each man aim at the one opposite 
 him. After firing, out with your tomahawks and down 
 with your rifles !" 
 
 The assailants were divided in four parties, approach- 
 ing rapidly from the diiferent points of the compass. They 
 w^ere in number fourfold the strength of the garrison. 
 But there would have been a very material diminution of 
 their force if Boone's directions had been followed. 
 
 Unfortunately, Paddy's agitation was so great that his 
 gun went off a moment too soon. Many others, supposing 
 this a signal, followed his example, but not before the as- 
 sailants, as was doubtless concerted, had prostrated them- 
 selves, and thus escaped the fatal effects of the discharge. 
 ' Be jabers, we've kilt ivery blackguard of 'em!" cried 
 Paddy, in exultation. "Be me sowl, I was mistaken !" he 
 added, the next moment, upon seeing them rise again ; 
 " they were only stunned." 
 
 The few who reserved their fire now selected their vic- 
 tims, and their fatal aim produced an astonishing effect on 
 the savages, who vainly supposed all the rifles were dis- 
 charged over their prostrate forms. 
 
 "We've stopped them ! Now load and fire as fast as you 
 can!" cried Boone, seeing the enemy reeling and hesitating, 
 instead of attempting to surmount the picketing. This 
 order was obeyed with alacrity and complete success on the 
 sides where Boone and Charles and Kenton commanded. But 
 on the other, where Girty led, the assaulting party succeeded 
 in pulling down several of the palisades between the cabins. 
 
 They rushed in, tomahawk in hand, and were met by 
 McSwine and his Scots in the centre of the area. A des- 
 perate conflict ensued, amid yells and shouts, the pran- 
 cing of horses and the braying of the jackass. But the 
 struggle was terminated by the fall of Girty himself, at 
 whose side the Rev. Mr. Jones had taken a deliberate aim 
 with his pistol. The Indians and the few British under the 
 renegade's immediate command bore him out and retreated 
 under cover of the river-bank. Several of the party, how- 
 ever, had been left within the enclosure, and these were 
 immediately tomahawked and scalped. 
 
246 WILD WESTERN SCENES 
 
 It was just at this distracting moment, when the battle 
 was won and the enemy were flying in all directions, that 
 the ears of Charles were assailed by a familiar voice, and, 
 looking in the direction whence it proceeded, he beheld, 
 issuing from the cane on the west of the fort, the form of 
 his forest sister. 
 
 She came, with arms uplifted, crying, " Kill me ! kill 
 me ! kill me !" 
 
 "Don't fire, for your lives!" shouted Charles, seeing 
 several of the men aiming at the advancing girl. 
 
 He threw open the gate and rushed forth to meet her, at 
 the same time speaking in a loud voice, and in the Indian 
 language, to the enemy, beseeching them to spare the sister 
 of Thayendanegea. 
 
 Brown Thrush never lowered her uplifted hands, nor 
 ceased to cry "Kill me !" until she fell upon the breast of 
 Charles, who, turning, bore her through the gate into the 
 fort, where they were instantly surrounded by eager spec- 
 tators. 
 
 " Oh !" cried Julia, pale and tearful, " see the blood ! 
 Who could have done the cruel deed?" 
 
 The poor Indian girl was weltering in her gore, inani- 
 mate, but with her arms still clasped round the neck of 
 Charles. 
 
 " Merciful heaven !" gasped Charles, on beholding the 
 wound in the breast of the poor gird, " who could have done 
 this? Some miscreant has killed her in my arms !" 
 
 Every one in the fort denied having perpetrated the act, 
 and, as her history was known to most of the garrison, pity 
 and indignation were felt and expressed by all. 
 
 " It was one of Queen Esther's instruments ! It must 
 have been !" said Charles, weeping over his forest sister. 
 
 "Bring her into the cabin," said the Eev. Mr. Jones, 
 "and she may recover. She is not dead. I feel her heait 
 beating." 
 
 "See! she revives!" said Julia. "Poor sister!" she 
 continued; "I will be her nurse." 
 
 Charles followed the preacher with his burden, the arms 
 of the wounded girl still clinging to his neck; and, when 
 gently deposited on a couch, her consciousness returned, 
 and, upon recognising the features of the one she loved, a 
 sweet smile spread over her face. 
 
DSATU OF TILE BROWN XUBUSU.— P. M7. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 247 
 
 "My poor sister," said Charles, in broken accents, "why 
 did you expose your tender breast to the aim of the Seneca 
 dogs?" 
 
 "The Brown Thrush had sung her last song," said she, 
 in her own musical language, which none but Charles and 
 Mr. Jones could fully understand. " She longed to go to 
 the happy land where the bright streams are dancing — 
 where those who love can never be separated — and where 
 the warm sunshine is never intercepted by clouds. Your 
 wild-wood sister was afraid to take her own life, since the 
 Great Spirit had forbidden it ; but she thought he Avould 
 not be angi'y if she had another to kill her. I was so un- 
 happy ! Oh, my brother, when will you come ? And must 
 I travel to the far land alone ? How long shall I wait for 
 tboe?" 
 
 Charles was incapable of utterance, but wept like a child 
 over his dying sister. Mr. Jones, perceiving the Avound 
 was mortal, and that the poor girl's life was rapidly ebbing 
 away, strove to cheer her with such assurances as his mis- 
 sion authorized him to pronounce. 
 
 "Do not weep for me!" said she, seeing the tears of 
 Ch^i-les and Julia. " We shall meet again where tears 
 car not come. Then the White Eagle shall love the Brown 
 Thrush as dearly as the Antelope. I am happy now. My 
 si^ht is growing dim, like the mist of the morning ; but thou 
 art near. My sister, give me your warm hand ; let me 
 pi ice it on my cold breast. My brother, be happy; but 
 don't forget her who charmed thee in the Avild woods with 
 her song. When we meet again in the spirit-land, open 
 ^vyour arms as you did to-day, and clasp your sister to your 
 heart. When you did so I was happy, though the wound 
 came at the same moment. I will be more happy there, 
 where no wounds can reach me. Dig a deep grave by the 
 spring, and breathe a prayer over thy faded sister ! Fare- 
 well !" 
 
 Her form sank back, and her spirit fled to its eternal 
 abode. A profound silence ensued, and every head was 
 bowed in sorrow. The preacher sank upon his knees, and, 
 although his lips moved in prayer, no one heard his words 
 but the Invisible Being who alone possessed the ability to 
 grant his requests. 
 
 A flag was sent in the next day by Duquesne with a pio- 
 
248 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 position for a suspension of hostilities until the dead could 
 be buried ; and, as his party had suffered the most severely, 
 and he would derive the greatest benefit from a strict fulfil- 
 ment of the terms, the request was granted. But the bearer 
 of the flag was, to the astonishment of the garrison, the 
 famous Simon Girty himself, whom they believed to be dead, 
 and most of them had rejoiced in his supposed destruction. 
 It appeared that a piece of leather in his pocket had saved 
 his life. The ball of the pistol, however, had stunned him 
 and brought him to the ground. 
 
 The body of the Indian girl, after being shown to the 
 chiefs of the enemy at their special request, that they 
 might know she had not been scalped, was enclosed in a 
 bark cofiin and deposited in a deep grave under the weep- 
 ing-willow near the spring, as she had requested. 
 
 After lingering a few days in the hope of obtaining 
 horses, but which was blasted by the vigilance of Kenton, 
 the Indians departed for their homes on the Scioto and 
 the Little Miami. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 WINTER AT BOONE'S STATION IN KENTUCKY — CHARLES 
 AND JULIA RETURN TO NEW JERSEY. 
 
 When the savages withdrew from the vicinity of Boones- 
 borough, it was observed by Paddy and Van Wiggens in^^ 
 their rambles that one of their rude bark shelters had not 
 only been left standing, but several pieces of buffalo-meat 
 remained on the roof, and smoke seemed to be still ascend- 
 ing from its centre. They drew near to gratify a very 
 natural curiosity. Watch, the little mongrel cur, with his 
 stump of a tail rigidly erect, preceded them ; for dogs are 
 quite as curious as men and women. 
 
 "Vat's dat?" cried Van Wiggens, seeing the dog re- 
 treating whining, and his tail down. 
 
 " Be my sowl, that's more than I can tell ye,' said 
 Paddy, " unless ye step fonud and see what it is." 
 
 " Go see, den," said Van Wiggens. 
 
f?ECOND SERIES. 249 
 
 ""Who ? I ? And arc ye afraid to do it ycrsolf ?" 
 
 " Afraid r' 
 
 " Yes. Are ye not frightened now, because yer dog la 
 barking at a ground-hog, or polecat, or some other varmint, 
 under there ? I'm laughing in my slave at ye ! Afraid of 
 a skunk, when we kill 'em ivery Aveek under the cabins !" 
 
 " Vat's dat you mean ? Dunder ! Me afraid ? Der 
 teiffel ! Noting but Mrs. Wan Viggens can scare me !" 
 and he strode forward toward the dark shelter, followed 
 with reluctance by Watch, while Paddy remained at a re- 
 spectful distance. 
 
 No sooner did the Dutchman enter the low habitation 
 than his ears were assailed by a tempest of words which he 
 was incapable of interpreting ; and, before he could retreat, 
 his leg was seized by some one half-buried in the leaves. 
 
 " Dunder ! lev go my leg !" he shouted. 
 
 The dog barked furiously. 
 
 Paddy ran away, and never paused until he plunged into 
 the area of the quadrangle, shouting " Indians ! Indians !" 
 
 A crowd, of course, soon assembled, nnd Paddy was con- 
 strained, with some difficulty, to pilot the men back to the 
 scene of the discovery. 
 
 Before they arrived in the vicinity, the bark of Watch 
 was heard, as if baying some huge monster which he durst 
 not approach. The next sound was the rattling voice of 
 an old woman, whom Boone pronounced a scold, and a 
 drunken one at that. Drawing near, they behtld poor Van 
 Wiggens retreating slowly from the bark hut, dragging 
 through the leaves by main force the body of Diving Duck, 
 who still clung to his leg and called him her husband. In 
 vain he strove to make Watch seize his tormentor. The 
 dog had once been rudely handled by her, and couM not 
 be induced to venture within her reach. 
 
 " I was only jesting !" said Paddy. " I made ye belave 
 I was frightened for the sake of the joke. Scared at a 
 squaw !" Such were the replies he made to the sneers of 
 the men who had come forth eager for "a fight." 
 
 "Tarn it! von't nopody help me?" cried Van Wig- 
 gens, who, from his corpulence, soon became exhausted, and 
 puifed and blowed prodigiously. 
 
 The old squaw, with dishevelled hair and bloated cheeks, 
 tui-ned her keen eyes upon the men and laughed. Even a 
 
250 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 dog can tell a man's humour by looking him m the eye ; and 
 Diving Duck perceived at once that she afforded amusement 
 for the spectators, and was in no danger of being killed. 
 
 After the merriment had been sufficiently prolonged, 
 Boone commanded the old squaw to release her lord ; and 
 the moment she did so Van Wiggens and his dog took 
 to their heels and fled to the fort. The old woman ran 
 about shaking hands with the men, fearless of injury, until 
 she fixed her eyes on Paddy, whom she called her " pap- 
 poose." She tore a switch from a pendent bough, and 
 seemed determined to administer chastisement for some 
 previous offence, or to vindicate her authority, when Paddy, 
 following the example of Van Wiggens, fled after him to- 
 ward the fort. The old hag pursued ; and when she ap- 
 proached the gate Van Wiggens would have fired upon 
 her had he not been prevented by Charles. He then hid 
 himself in one of the cabins, and the old squaw was per- 
 mitted to rove about the huts without molestation. 
 
 Several weeks after the evacuation of Kentucky by the 
 Indians, Boone, at the head of a party of twenty men, set 
 out for the Licks to make salt, — that indispensable article 
 having become exhausted in the settlements. In this expe- 
 dition he was accompanied by his brother, and by all the 
 men from the Jenny Jump settlement excepting Charles 
 and Paddy. Van Wiggens led the van, gladly leaving 
 Didapper behind. 
 
 During the absence of this detachment the fort was too 
 much weakened to be abandoned by Charles ; and his eager- 
 ness to return to the Delaware river had to be repressed. 
 And Julia, pleading her promise to her dying father that 
 she would not, during her minority, marry without the con- 
 Bent of her guardian, resisted the importunity of her lover 
 to have their nuptials celebrated in the fort. She admired 
 Mr. Jones very much, and could not entertain a doubt of 
 his piety, or even question what seemed to be his divine 
 mission ; but, inasmuch as she had been baptized in the 
 Church of England, by Dr. Odell, of Burlington, she had 
 an irresistible desire to take the marriage-vow with the 
 wedding-ring at St. Mary's holy altar ; and in vain did Mr. 
 Jones attempt to combat her prejudices, as he termed them. 
 In vain did he propose to read the ceremony from her own 
 prayer-book, and to manufacture, himself, aided by Van 
 
SECOND SERins. 251 
 
 VViggens, (who was a blacksmitli,) a ring from one of 
 Charles's watch-seals. She begged him to desist, and an 
 nounced that her decision was irreversible. 
 
 About this time, during one of the dark nights of winter, 
 when the inmates of the garrison were assembled round 
 the cheerful blaze on the broad hearth of the princi))al 
 cabin, — the old women spinning flax and the young ones 
 knittincr or sewing;, listening to narratives of adventures in 
 the wild woods, — Charles was startled by hearing a peb- 
 ble fall upon the roof and roll down to the ground. Used 
 to such signals, he sprang to his feet and was approaching 
 the door, when the gentle hand of Julia arrested him. Pale, 
 and trembling very much, she begged him to desist. 
 
 "It is only the hail," said Mrs. Calloway, silencing the 
 buzz of her wheel. 
 
 " The wind has been howling ever since dark," said Sue, 
 " and it may be the large hail that sometimes falls at the 
 beginning of a storm. 
 
 " I don't think any Indians could have passed my father 
 at the Blue Licks," said Mary. 
 
 " Not unless they captured him first," said Julia, " which 
 may have been the case !" 
 
 " And that's not onlikely," said Paddy, with staring 
 eyes and fallen chin. 
 
 " Could you not get into the potato-hole, under the floor, 
 and creep near the door ?" asked Mrs. Calloway. 
 
 "Me?" said Paddy, in astonishment. "And sure I'd 
 be smothered in a minute ! I niver could draw me breath I 
 — I mane, I niver could saa ony thing in the dark." 
 
 "It is not an Indian," said Mr. Jones. 
 
 " No," said Charles ; " if they had captured Boone and 
 his party they would have gone back to celebrate the event" 
 (which was really the case) " before venturing farther into 
 the country." 
 
 "But give me light, Mrs. Calloway," said Paddy, "and 
 I don't fear the divil !" and he had made two strides to- 
 ward the door when another pebble rattled down from the 
 roof. He paused abruptly. " Och, it's only the hail!" 
 said he, and resumed his seat. The next instant, however, 
 hearing some one whistle, he sprang up again, very palo 
 and trembling ; but his trepidation was not observed. Both 
 Charles and Julia recognised the signal, and, uttering to* 
 
252 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 gcther a joyous exclamation, the door was thrown open, 
 and the imperturbable Skippie stood in their midst. 
 
 The faithful messenger was overwhelmed with hearty 
 greetings, which he bore in silence, but with a proud ex- 
 pression of countenance. He brought, besides the packet 
 of letters, (unsoiled, notwithstanding the inclemency of the 
 season, and the long journey,) another accession to Julia's 
 wardrobe. To the profusion of thanks showered upon him 
 he made no reply, and, merely uttering the word " Virginia," 
 the meaning of which was not comprehended, and pointing 
 to the letters, as if to indicate that they would speak moie 
 explicitly, he withdrew to the kitchen, or rather the cabin 
 where the savory viands were usually cooked. 
 
 Charles's letter was from his father, announcing his con- 
 tinued good health and the determination of France to 
 make common cause with the Colonies. But this resolution 
 had not yet transpired, and was still one of the secrets of 
 the court of Versailles. The aspect of affairs, nevertheless, 
 at that moment, was sufficiently gloomy. Washington, 
 with a mere handful of men, was hard pressed, and retreat- 
 ing before CornAvallis ; and a large portion of the people 
 embraced the terms offered in the royal proclamations, re- 
 turning to their allegiance. The Indians, too, led by 
 Brandt and instigated by Johnston and the Butlers, were 
 desolating the country on the northern frontier. Murphy, 
 Charles's faithful sergeant, did all in his power to maintain 
 the organization of the little band of patriots ; but many 
 difficulties were thrown in his way. In short, Charles was 
 advised to return the first opportunity. Such was the 
 purport of the letter he received from his father. 
 
 Julia, while reading her epistle from Kate, could not re- 
 press her joy upon learning that her old playmate was then 
 residing with the Moravians, in the immediate vicinity of 
 her guardian's house, whither she had flown as to a secure 
 place of refuge during the perils of the invasion of the 
 western portion of the State, then in possession of the 
 enemy. 
 
 " He's well ! He's well again !" cried Julia, holding 
 the letter triumphantly aloft. 
 
 "He!" said Charles, gravely. "What he do you 
 mean ?" 
 
 " Sob ! Kate says : — 'When your monster of a friend. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 253 
 
 from Newfoundland, first beheld me, I could Avith difficulty 
 elude his rather familiar attempts to place a hand (paAv) on 
 each of my shoulders. Tears — whether of joy or grief, how 
 could I tell? — trickled down, and I could not prevent him 
 from placing his velvet tongue against my hand. How is 
 this, Julia ? Has the sagacious animal heard you speak 
 of me, remembered your words, and recognised your friend ? 
 Rely upon it. Solo has my love, and will have my watchful 
 care V There, Mr. Eagle ! Kate is in love with your 
 rival !" 
 
 " Read on ! God bless Kate ! I shall love her for 
 loving your dog." 
 
 " 1 believe you were once inclined to love her for herselt, 
 before she ever saw the dog. But I'll pardon that. Oh ! 
 here is something very sad and horrible ! Read it for me, 
 Charles." 
 
 It was an account of the death of Mrs. Caldwell, the 
 wife of the Presbyterian minister. She had been shot by 
 a brutal British soldier, through the window of her cham- 
 ber, Avhen in the act of prayer in the midst of her little 
 children. 
 
 "This act," said Kate, "when known by the British 
 officers, was denounced, but they had no time to seek the 
 perpetrator. From the burning town they came to our 
 house. Father was absent. My mother, my sisters, and 
 myself, when we saw the British in the yard, retreated into 
 the back chamber. The front door was soon burst open. 
 Oh, it was a horrible night ! A violent storm raging in 
 the sky as well as upon the earth. Tlie lightning flashed 
 and the thunder rolled terrifically. But this was the voice 
 of God, and the providential means of our salvation. It 
 occurred to me that we might be less liable to outrage by 
 meeting oui foes boldly face to face. They were already 
 striking their muskets rudely against the door. I stepped 
 forward, in my loose white wrapper, for we had retired at 
 an early hour, and threw open the door. At that instant the 
 hall was illuminated by a vivid flash of lightning, and no 
 doubt my face was as pale as the corpse they had seen. 
 The soldiers, horror-stricken, fled away, declaring they 
 had been confronted by the ghost of Mrs. Caldwell, murdered 
 by them in the morning. In a moment the house was de- 
 serted by them. Julia, you know they used to say there 
 
254 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 was a resemblance between Mrs. Caldwell and myself. 
 Who could have supposed it would produce such an 
 effect ?" 
 
 This portion of Kate's letter caused a profound sensation, 
 and Mr. Jones no doubt would have gladly seized the op- 
 portunity to "improve the occasion," had his eye not fallen 
 on his own name, in a familiar hand, on one of the letters 
 brought by Skippie. It was from his friend Anthony 
 Wayne, demanding his presence in Jersey, or, as he ex- 
 pressed it, " wherever the enemy may drive us, for we 
 shall never get out of our difficulties without your aid, and 
 I hope the cause is not past praying for." 
 
 There was likewise a letter from Mrs. Van Wiggens to 
 her absent husband, but none present felt authorized to 
 open it. But Kate, in her diary, mentioned her several 
 times, and said she was succeeding very well with her 
 tavern. 
 
 There were also letters from Thomas and Richard 
 Schooley. The former intimated a purpose to have the 
 lands jointly held by himself and Julia's father surveyed 
 and divided, as he had no idea of any portion of his estate 
 being involved in the confiscation. Charles Cameron had 
 been excepted in the recent royal proclamation offering 
 mercy and protection. 
 
 Richard announced his intention to seek the hand of 
 Judith Carlisle, the daughter of Abraham, a staunch 
 royalist. And he concluded with a proposition which 
 startled Julia. "Thee must learn," said he, "that this 
 farm, and all the improvements thereon, appeareth, upon 
 an accurate survey, and the specifications in the deeds, to 
 ■fall to thy lot. But, as the expenditures thereon were 
 made by us, we do not doubt that thou wilt deal justly. 
 The royal cause must triumph in the end, and it is greatly 
 feared all thy estates will be forfeited. Now, as I have 
 still a friendly regard for thee, I would gladly provide for 
 thy maintenance. I learn that, with the consent of tliy 
 guardian, thou mayest execute a legal conveyance of thy 
 lands ; and, indeed, if thy father's Bible, found in one of the 
 boxes, would be taken as evidence, it appeareth by certain 
 writings therein thou art older than we supposed, and of 
 an age to act without the concurrence of thy guardian. 
 Therefore, if ihee will name a moderate sum in ready 
 
SECOND SERIES. 255 
 
 money, as an apparent consideration for the lands, and 
 execute a deed conveying them to me, I ^vill pledge myself, 
 after the bloody storm hath s^vept past, either to reconvcy 
 them to thee, or else to pay thee such additional sum or 
 sums as three honest men may adjudge. And if thee will 
 not agree to do this thee will be a pauper upon the 
 county." 
 
 Julia's eyes flashed indignantly. Throwing the letter in 
 the fire, she said, " Henceforth I am a rebel !" 
 
 "Amen !" cried Mr. Jones. " I'll tell Wayne, and he'll 
 tell Washington ! If I'm not mistaken, these Schooleys have 
 more reason to apprehend a loss than yourself. But I must 
 retire. At dawn I shall set out alone for head-quarters. 
 Be not surprised, and do not attempt to interpose any 
 objections. I shall find my way thither in safety. You 
 cannot go till spring, and Skippie will remain till then. 
 Let us unite in an earnest petition to the great Captain- 
 General of the universe. If God be on our side, we shall 
 prevail. Let us appeal to him and be of good cheer. He 
 hurls the bolts of destruction, and the rolling thunders are 
 the reverberations of his voice. Remember who said, when 
 the tempest raged and the billows were lifted up, ' Fear 
 not ; it is L' Yes, my brethren, if he be for us who shall 
 prevail against us ? And was not his will clearly manifested 
 in the lightning's flash which struck terror to the murderers 
 of Mrs. Caldwell?" 
 
 He then knelt down in their midst and prayed fervently 
 and patriotically for about an hour. 
 
 The next morning, having provided himself with ammu- 
 nition for his pistols, and taking with him a supply of dried 
 buffalo-meat and a canteen of rum, the eccentric preacher 
 set out alone on his journey, never for a moment doubting 
 his ultimate arrival at the head-quarters of the American 
 army. 
 
 Diving Duck became a source of great annoyance to 
 Paddy, who regretted that he had not gone with the rest to 
 the Licks. She could not comprehend why her adopted son 
 should not yield obedience to her commands in the fort as 
 w^ell as in the wigwam on the Scioto ; and all her orders 
 aimed at the procurement of rum. She threatened, she 
 stormed, she begged, in vain. Charles had forbidden it. 
 
 After lingering about the fort a few weeks, she announced 
 
2.S6 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 her purpose of returning to her own country, and demanded 
 of Charles an order for Paddy to accompany her. 
 
 " Do you wish to go Avith your mother ?" asked Charles, 
 turning to Paddy. 
 
 " Me mother, is it ? Howly mother forbid ! And would 
 ye be afther sariously calling sich a varmint as that me 
 mother, Misther Charles ? Plase don't do ony sich thing ! 
 Go wid 'er, did ye say ? I'd rather go back and live wid 
 tlie owld sow I kilt in the wild woods !" 
 
 " Shall I interpret your speech to her?" asked Charles. 
 
 "No! plase don't, or she'll be afther me wid the frying- 
 pan. But I'll tell ye what I'll do, and if ye plase ye may 
 turn it into the Indian brogue. I'll pack her up some 
 jerked buffalo-bafe and start her oif on Pater Shaver's 
 jackass, provided she'll swear on the Howly Evangely 
 niver to call Patrick Pence her son agin !" 
 
 "Oh, do!" said Julia. "The sound of that animal's 
 voice is a terror to me !" 
 
 "And no wonder, Misthress Julia, as it reminds ye of 
 blood. And besides, Misther Charles, only consider that 
 Pater is anoder o' her sons, and she has a lagal right to the 
 baste ; and if Pater objicts to it afther the baste is gone, 
 I'll give him me note for the vally of the crather." 
 
 "It shall be done," said Charles, quite anxious to get 
 rid of the animal. And the old squaw was delighted with 
 the arrangement. The only stipulation she added was a 
 moderate dram, and when it was greedily swallowed she 
 set forth on the ass. 
 
 As the winter passed away, the joy of the wanderers at 
 the prospect of a speedy return to the Delaware was en- 
 gloomed by the reception of melancholy tidings. A son 
 of Mr. Calloway, about fifteen years of age, who had ac- 
 companied his father to the Licks, came in one day, pale, 
 haggard, and half famished. He told his sister, who wept 
 upon his neck, that their father and the entire party at the 
 Licks had been surrounded and captured by an army of 
 more than a hundred warriors. They had, however, pledged 
 themselves to Boone that the lives of the prisoners should 
 be spared, and that they should not be subjected to the 
 humiliations and pains of the gauntlet. 
 
 The Indians, instead of assaulting the forts, which might 
 have been carried when weakened by the loss of their best 
 
SECOND SERIES. 257 
 
 men, hurried away as usual to celebrate their success. And 
 it may be here remarked that the stipulations agreed to by 
 them were faithfully fulfilled. 
 
 The capture of the men at the Licks occurred late in 
 January, and February had been appointed by Charles as 
 the time of setting out. It was now feared some delay 
 would ensue, as he could not in honour abandon the post 
 assigned him when the opinion prevailed that the Indians 
 would return after depositing their prisoners in a place of 
 security; and the distribution of the emigrants recently 
 arrived among some half dozen forts might not suffice for 
 their defence if a single man were subtracted. 
 
 This apprehension was removed, however, by the unex- 
 pected arrival of another body of emigrants. It appeared 
 that the glowing accounts of the salubrity of the climate 
 and fertility of the soil, which had reached the East, had 
 stimulated the people of whole neighbourhoods to emigrate ; 
 and every man brought a gun with him. 
 
 His design being thus facilitated, and having the re- 
 peated assurances of Julia that she would be able to per- 
 form the journey, (for she had learned many lessons in 
 woodscraft during her sojourn in the wilderness,) Charles 
 made preparations for an immediate departure. Their 
 horses were selected and caparisoned. Buffalo-robes for 
 their warmth and shelter were provided. Food was packed, 
 and every needful arrangement for their comfort and 
 safety completed. Then, taking leave of their Western 
 friends, with many regrets for the loss of the comrades left 
 behind them, Charles, Julia, Skippie, and Paddy, com- 
 menced the long and weary journey eastward. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CHARLES AND JULIA IN BURLINGTON — THEY MEET THOMAS 
 
 SCHOOLEY — DR. ODELL THE HAUNTED KNDCKKR 
 
 GOVERNOR FRANKLIN. 
 
 The incidents of minor interest during the journey east- 
 Ward, the scenery in the mountains, which were still covcretl 
 with snow, the hunting adventures of Paddy, and tho 
 
 22* 
 
258 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 hearty though rude entertainment afforded hy the few scat- 
 tering cabins on the way, I cannot dwell upon in this place, 
 although the diary of Julia is lying before me in unfaded 
 calligraphy. Events of greater magnitude must occupy the 
 remaining pages of my narrative. 
 
 Once more Julia and Charles and Paddy were in the 
 ancient village of Burlington. And at that time it seemed 
 to have greater pretensions to rivalry in the race of cities 
 than at the present day. The idea that it would surpass 
 Philadelphia in population had not, perhaps, been entirely 
 relinquished ; but the hope has faded since. 
 
 Julia, as soon as she was landed from the schooner at 
 the foot of Main Street, proceeded without delay, followed 
 by Paddy in the capacity of footman, to the residence of 
 her guardian, which she supposed would be still found re- 
 maining in the occupancy of the old housekeeper. To her 
 surprise, if not satisfaction, the first person she met, when 
 passing the threshold, was Thomas Schooley himself. 
 
 '' Why, Julia," exclaimed he, "do I behold thee again ?" 
 
 "Plase yer honour," said Paddy, "I'll swear to her 
 idintity, as they made me do wanst before the coroner, 
 when Mary McShane made 'way wid herself." 
 
 "Swear not at all, Patrick," said Thomas. 
 
 " Not I, sir ; but, plase yer honour, you have confissed to 
 me, and called me be me own name." 
 
 "And am I so much changed, Thomas?" asked Julia, 
 smiling. She had procured new apparel in Philadelphia, 
 and there was no perceptible alteration in her appearance 
 since their separation. 
 
 " No — Julia — no ! Thee does not seem to have changed 
 in aspect or inclination to follow the fashions in the style 
 and colour of thy outward adornments. But I did not 
 expect to meet thee here. Sit thee at the fire, and a 
 breakfast shall be prepared for thee. How didst thou 
 come, and from whence?" 
 
 "We have just landed from the schooner we embarked 
 in at Wilmington. But, before leaving the for^ in the 
 western wilderness, Skippie had delivered thy letters." 
 
 "The letters!" said Thomas, with unwonted energy. 
 " Hast thou preserved them ?" 
 
 "No, Thomas," said the girl, with an angry look. "1 
 consio-ned both thine and Richard's letters " 
 
SECOND SERIES. 253 
 
 "To whom? Speak, Julia!" ho said, hurriedlj, and if. 
 uncontrollable agitation. 
 
 "To the flames," she continued. 
 
 "Flames! I thank thee !" he added, breathing freely. 
 " But it was not respectful ; yet we will say nothing more 
 abDut it." 
 
 " But we must have more to say in regard to those let- 
 ters," said Julia. " Why didst thou write me in that 
 manner ? And why wert thou so greatly excited just now, 
 Thomas?" 
 
 " Thee shall know all, Julia ; only be patient. The 
 times are perilous, and the world is ever changing. The 
 offer was made by Richard in good faith. But since then 
 George Washington has performed miracles. He has sur- 
 prised and beaten the King's forces in several places, and 
 recovered the greater portion of this Colony. But the next 
 change will be in favour of the royal cause, and we who 
 are opposed to strife will have rest and peace." 
 
 Julia listened attentively, without interrupting her cir- 
 cumspect guardian; and, when he had finished discussing 
 the affairs of the Colony, she hastened to inform herself in 
 relation to matters in the Jenny Jump settlement ; but 
 affairs there had experienced no material alteration since 
 her last advices from Kate. She was gratified, however, to 
 be informed that her guardian was only on a brief visit 
 in Burlington, and, having despatched his business, would 
 return immediately. 
 
 Charles and Skippie sat in the bar-room of the principal 
 hotel at the junction of jNIaiu and Broad Streets. During 
 the last year the establishment had experienced several 
 changes of proprietors. When the British were over- 
 running the State, and Count Donop was encamped with 
 four hundred Hessians on the Wetherill lot in view of the 
 court-house, and the jail in the immediate vicinity was filled 
 with rebel prisoners, the premises were quietly leased to a 
 new landlord, who had, the next day, the sign of the British 
 'ion swinging before the door. But after the battles of 
 Trenton and Princeton, the discharges of artillfry on both 
 occasions being distinctly audible at Burlington, the frown- 
 ing lion lost his eyes, (the work of some boys in the night,) 
 and was made to succumb to the impromptu representation 
 of an eagle, and another transfer of the prrmises ensued. 
 
260 WILD WESTERN SCENES! • 
 
 The last landlord, -whom we shall designate by the name 
 of John Brown, to avoid identification, was familiarly 
 known by the cognomen of Mr. Allriglit, John being pecu- 
 liarly adapted to all parties and exigencies. Mr. Allright 
 John Brown was a bustling, portly, talkative, accommodat- 
 ing host. 
 
 When Charles and Skippie entered the bar-room a party 
 of Tories had just been drinking at the bar, and as they 
 withdrew from the house they paused at the corner and 
 cast curious glances back at the strangers. 
 
 "Don't notice 'em!" said the host. "They are idle 
 characters," he added, in a low tone, "who do nothing but 
 drink and pry into matters which don't concern them. I 
 wonder they didn't question you as to which side you 
 are on." 
 
 "And, pray, to which side do they belong?" asked 
 Charles. 
 
 " Oh, they are for the King," said the host. 
 
 •'And I am for the Congress !" said Charles, 
 
 "I thought so!" exclaimed Brown, smiling, and enthu- 
 siastically shaking the hand of his young guest. "/ am 
 all right," said he, with a significant wink. "But, my 
 young friend, be cautious how you express yourself before 
 strangers. One-half of 'em are rank Tories, and they 
 swear every rebel here shall swing on Gallows Hill. By 
 walking out into the middle of the street you can see the 
 hill, and the scaffolding erected last Christmas eve. But 
 that night Washington crossed the Delaware and played 
 the d — 1 with their calculations. Walk into the next room. 
 I smell the ham and eggs. And take ray advice and hold 
 your tongue when curious ears are about." 
 
 Charles and Skippie passed through the door to which 
 the landlord pointed, and sat down to the savoury repast. 
 And while they were appeasing their appetites, the door 
 communicating with the bar-room being left ajar, they 
 heard the following conversation between the host and a 
 new visitor : — 
 
 "Thee must still see after my house, John," said the 
 visitor, "and supply the servant with food." 
 
 "Certainly, friend Thomas," said the host; "you may 
 depend on me. You have become my surety for the pay- 
 ment of the rent. As I was saying last night when Gene- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 2fil 
 
 ral Cadwallader arrived and interrupted tis, the ' Sons of 
 Liberty' were once going to tear down your mansion, but I 
 prevented it by saying you were as good a Whig as old 
 Flint-face himself." 
 
 " Thee should not have said that, John. We are not 
 permitted to lie. If they had torn down my house there 
 would have been a reimbursement out of the forfeiture of 
 their own estates." 
 
 " But suppose the rebellion should never be put down, 
 friend Thomas: what then?" 
 
 "•No matter; I tell thee I would not lie to save my 
 house." 
 
 " I know thee wouldn't, friend Thomas ; and thee didn't. 
 Your conscience had nothing to do with it ; I lied for you. 
 /don't mind it." 
 
 " Thee must not do such things, John ! I tell thee it 
 will not answer. If thee don't mind lying, how am I to 
 judge when thou speakest the truth ? Thee says thy busi- 
 ness is profitable. How am I to know it ? Thee declares 
 1 run no risk in being thy surety for the rent ; perhaps I 
 shall have it to pay for thee ! Besides," contined he, will- 
 ing to change the subject, "I hear that thee professed great 
 attachment to those officers of the rebel army who put up 
 with thee when passing." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! Of course I did ! Would you not have 
 me be agreeable to my guests ? And you'll hear the same 
 thing of Lord Cornwallis and General Howe, when they 
 come. I'm all right ! You needn't fear." 
 
 Just as he uttered these words, Charles, who had finished 
 ejiting, returned to the bar-room. 
 
 " Hem ! I — just step into that room !" said the host to 
 his young guest, pointing to another door. " There is a 
 good hickory fire in it. Step in !" 
 
 "I have seen Julia," said Mr. Schooley, advancing and 
 oifering his hand, which Charles did not refuse, " and learned 
 thou hadst returned. Thee looks well ; and I am glad to 
 see thee dressed after the habit of civilized men, albeit I 
 do not approve the colour and fashion of thy garments." 
 
 "Hem I That's strange !" said Brown, aside. "Glad, 
 and don't approve ! And they know each other. I'm tliink- 
 ing friend Thomas knows more about lying than he pre- 
 tends to." 
 
262 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " My garments suit myself," said Charles, " as thine do 
 thee, friend Thomas. I do not object to thine." 
 
 "We will not quarrel about our clothes," said Mr. 
 Schooley, smiling faintly. " I am a man of peace, as I 
 would have all men to be ; and I learn it is thy intention 
 to return to the upper settlement. I am glad of it. I do 
 not think thee will permit thy sergeant to annoy us any 
 more by exacting money from Richard." 
 
 " Murphy must collect the fines prescribed by law," said 
 Charles. 
 
 " Law ! Well, thee may live to know what law is ! But 
 no more. We must not quarrel. To-morrow we will 
 journey together. Farewell, till we meet again." Thomas 
 withdrew, and hastened to collect the interest on various 
 Bums loaned to the thrifty members of the Quaker society 
 composing a large proportion of the population of Bur- 
 lington. 
 
 " Gad !" exclaimed Brown, approaching Charles, " you 
 know him ? I'm all right ! Schooley's an old rascal, — a 
 rank Tory ! And he's going to cheat one of the prettiest 
 girls in America out of her fortun'. He's as rich as Crashes 
 now, but he wants more. It's a pity some handsome young 
 fellow like yourself don't marry the poor girl, and save her 
 fortun'. They say he had her taken off by the Indians, but 
 they wouldn't kill her." 
 
 "That was a lie," said Charles. "I know her, and I 
 know the tale is without foundation." 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it. There are always a great many 
 lies in circulation. I hate a liar as I do a Tory. I'm all 
 right ! And I'm glad friend Schooley isn't so bad as re- 
 presented. But he's as rich as Crashes, and you know such 
 men always have enemies." 
 
 "Of course they do," said Charles. "But can you tell 
 me what has become of Governor Franklin ?" 
 
 "The governor? Certainly! He's in New York. The 
 British exchanged a general for him. He's at the bottom, 
 or rather at the head, of all the Tories in Jersey. He knows 
 who's who in these times, and he knows i'm all right! 
 Sometimes he is at Staten Island, and sometimes at Amboy ; 
 and they do whisper he has even been here, in disguise," 
 continued Brown, in a low voice, knowing that Franklin 
 was, at that moment, in his house ! 
 
SECOND SERIES. 263 
 
 ""Who occupies his mansion on the bank?" 
 
 ''None but one of the old women of the family. The 
 celebrated doctor Avho, you know, is the governor's father, 
 Bent the woman up to see after his furniture and books, and 
 the people haven't disturbed the place at all, on the doctor's 
 account. But it's haunted !" 
 
 "Haunted?" 
 
 " Bless you, yos ! I thought everybody knew that. 
 Why, the old sycamore, belonging to the witches, is just 
 before the door. They dance and sing and knock every 
 night. It is said they have bought young Ben Sheppard 
 from his father." 
 
 "And do the people believe such things?" 
 
 " Of course ! And it's a good thing for the property." 
 
 "I suppose they are afraid to enter the mansion." 
 
 " They are, by gum !" 
 
 "Friend Charles," said Thomas Schooley, re-entering, 
 his countenance betraying a mental struggle, " I have re- 
 turned to have a sober talk with thee. Come into the next 
 room. Now, my friend," resumed he, when they were 
 seated in the snug chamber, since converted into a parlour, 
 " why should we not explain ourselves and have a clear 
 understanding of each other's purposes ?" 
 
 "I do not know by what authority you may demand " 
 
 " Tut ! Pr'ythee, Charles, listen patiently to me. It may 
 be well for thee and for us both. An accommodation 
 may be effected, a compromise " 
 
 " No, sir ! I love Julia, and you are her guardian. 
 You can withhold your consent to our nuptials until she 
 arrives at a certain age, which, if the old Bible is to be 
 believed " 
 
 " Thee hast seen Richard's letter ! "Well, the figures 
 are uncertain. Whether the date is 1755, or 1758, it 
 would be hard to decide." 
 
 "No matter. I have no right to investigate the subject. 
 You can withhold your sanction, and we can wait, till your 
 authority ceases. That is all. I will not compromise my 
 own or Julia's character by any sort of agreement or bar- 
 gain " 
 
 " Thee misunderstands me, and will not listen. W ill 
 thee answer one thing?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
264 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " I will ask the question, and thee can answer or not as 
 thee pleases. Dost thou intend to wed my ward clandes- 
 tinely, or openly against my wishes ?" 
 
 " I will answer that, because it is not impertinent. You 
 are her legal guardian " 
 
 "I am glad thee acknowledges so much." 
 
 "And I am her ardent adorer." 
 
 " Thee speaks as if she were a divinity !" 
 
 " No matter. You do not comprehend such things. I 
 intend, friend Thomas, to see Dr. Odell, and if he will 
 marry us — Julia consenting — we will return man and wife 
 to the Jenny Jump-." 
 
 " Indeed ! It is boldly spoken !" 
 
 "Yes, and " 
 
 " Thee is disposed to swear. I will leave thee." 
 
 "It is an inclination I will repress: — a habit in civilized 
 Bociety, and particularly among the loyalists. I did not 
 contract it among the Indians. They never swear. But, 
 Thomas, I am quite sure— at least very fearful — that 
 Julia will not comply with my request without your con- 
 currence." 
 
 " I thank thee for thy frankness. Adieu, till we meet 
 again at " 
 
 " But, Thomas, why be in such haste ? A word from 
 thee will be suflScient to remove the obstacle, and then 
 Julia will consent. I have been candid." 
 
 " Thee has, and I will be so too. Thee shall not wed 
 my ward with my consent !" 
 
 "Very well! I shall not beg you to relent, nor attempt 
 to ctitrap you into a compliance. But you niay rely upon 
 it that Julia will never marry your industrious son. So, 
 if it be your expectation to obtain her fortune in that way, 
 you will be disappointed." 
 
 "Thee may have learned, since our letters to our ward 
 seem to have been subjected to thy perusal — albeit she said 
 
 they were burned " 
 
 " She said truly. She threw them contemptuously, as 
 they deserved, into the fire." 
 
 " I am glad of the action, and care nothing for the con- 
 tempt. Thee has no doubt heard of the purpose of Richard 
 to marry Judith Carlisle. Thee has not heard of the mis- 
 understanding since then — but no matter ! Charles, thee 
 
SECOND SERIES. 265 
 
 thinks me a worshipper of mammon, an idolater of gold, 
 without honour or religion. Thee does not know me. For- 
 tune is desirable, and it is not sinful to seek it honestly. 
 It is not wrong to marry a wife witli riches. But I have 
 a duty to perform. I made my friend, Julia's father, a 
 pledge which I must fulfil. Iler fortune shall not be im- 
 perilled while she continues under my control. That is the 
 promise I made. If I were to consent to her marriage with 
 thee, every thing would be lost when order is restored and 
 the king's authority re-established." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! — when the devil reigns, justice and virtue — 
 but no matter ! It will be seen who are the losers. You 
 think the advices by the secret messengers from New York 
 are cheering. So be it. I have advices too. Let the game 
 be played. I win if you lose." 
 
 " Thee talks like a gamester. Farewell !" And Thomas 
 withdrew. 
 
 Charles strolled out into the street, and, passing the 
 Friends' burying-ground, where so many had been laid 
 without monument or inscription, approached the Episcopal 
 church, (St. Mary's.) 
 
 The door was partly open, and he thought he heard the 
 last notes of sacred music dying on the air. He paused 
 and looked in. The Rev. Dr. Odell stood before the altar, 
 with cup and plate before him, while about a dozen females 
 knelt around the chancel. On that unusual day, and at 
 that singular hour, he was administering the sacrament to 
 a small remnant of his flock. There was not a man among 
 them. We trust the same disparity of sex may not exist 
 in heaven ! 
 
 Chai'les, yielding to the solemn impulse of the moment, 
 strode forward and knelt among them. He, too, althougtj 
 80 lonor a wanderer, belonged to the same flock. Tears 
 
 O ... 
 
 were on the cheeks of the pious minister, and several of the 
 women were sobbing. 
 
 When they arose, the eyes of Charles and Julia met. 
 They had been kneeling together; and, when the rest with- 
 drew, the lovers were beckoned aside by the priest. 
 
 "My dear children," said he, when they were seated, 
 " God hath conducted thee to St. Mary's holy shrine on ihe 
 day of separation." 
 
 "Separation !" said both Charles and Julia. 
 
 23 
 
266 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 '' Separation; and perhaps a final one," said the minis- 
 ter. "The earthly shepherd is driven away "from hia 
 flock ; hut the heavenly Shepherd remains. Be of comfort. 
 The spirits of the pious dead Avho lie around us are at 
 peace. We must join them in time. They will inscribe 
 our names on the marble over our dust, and we, too, will 
 have our rest. It matters not where they may place us. or 
 who chisels the monumental marble, or what inscription 
 there may be upon it, so our names are written in the Book 
 of Life. The faithful will meet again in heaven. Farewell, 
 my dear children ! I must go !" 
 
 "Go! Whither?" 
 
 "Whithersoever they may drive me. I must practise 
 what I have preached. We are commanded to render unto 
 Csesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the 
 things which be God's : — to honour the king and obey hia 
 statutes. And for doing this my enemies have decreed that 
 I must leave the Colonies. I will not attempt to pronounce 
 judgment in this unhappy controversy. Neither will I vio- 
 late my own conscience or shrink from my duty. It is the 
 last time I shall see the faithful remnant of my beloved 
 flock. Hence my tears. Farewell !" 
 
 "Doctor," said Charles, "Julia and myself are affianced 
 lovers. Will you not unite us in lawful wedlock before 
 you go ?" 
 
 Julia's veil dropped down over her blushing face ; but 
 she trembled and withdrew her hand, which Chaides had 
 seized. 
 
 "It may not be, my son," said the minister. " I know 
 all. Julia has told me all, and obtained my advice, which 
 is disinterested. I could not sanction a violation of her 
 solemn pledge to her father, nor could I approve of her 
 linking her earthly destiny with one who might bring sor- 
 row upon her gentle spirit. I know you would be incapable 
 of inflicting pain upon the beloved of thy heart. Others 
 would inflict it. When, as it is not improbable, like other 
 mistaken enthusiasts, you shall be brought to the block for 
 rebellion against the kinn; " 
 
 "Doctor!" exclaimed Julia, "it is not rebellion! it ia 
 revolution ! And 1 am as staunch a patriot as Chailes. 
 Were I a man, I would rush into the battle-field and fight 
 for liberty!" 
 
SECOND SERIES. 267 
 
 *' Poor thing !" said the doctor. " Well, my dear chil- 
 dren, you must excuse- me. I cannot and will not violate 
 my sense of duty " 
 
 " Forgive me, sir !" said Julia, quickly; " I do not desire 
 you to perform the ceremony which Charles is so anxious 
 to have consummated. But I do not condemn his patriot- 
 ism, and I do not fear the cause he espouses will entail 
 ruin on him. I will abide by my promise to my dying 
 parent " 
 
 " God bless you both !" ejaculated the minister, holding 
 a hand of each. " Farewell ! Postpone the solemnization 
 of your nuptials until this hurly-burly be done. If God so 
 wills it, the Colonies may be free — if separation be free- 
 dom; and if not — but time will prove all things, and you 
 are both young enough to wait for the end. Adieu ! 
 And may heaven's choicest blessings be showered upon 
 you!" 
 
 After lingering a few moments, Charles and Julia with- 
 drew, and, as they strolled together toward the mansion of 
 Thomas Schooley, they were met by that gentleman him- 
 self, very pale and anxious. 
 
 "I hope thee will tell me truly and without delay," 
 said he. 
 
 "Tell thee what?" demanded Charles. 
 
 "Whether John hath spoken truly." 
 
 " What John ? There are many of them." 
 
 "John Brown, the hotel-keeper. He says you have been 
 married at the church." 
 
 "Friend Thomas," said Charles, "you know John ha.9 
 acquired the accomplishment of lying. And I am very 
 sure you will be happy to learn he has been lying to thee 
 this time." 
 
 " Tliat may be very witty ; but thou hast to learn that 
 principles are immutable things. I shall be glad to learn 
 thee has not been wedded, and regret that John lied 
 about it." 
 
 " I am justly rebuked, Thomas, and ask thy pardon," 
 said Charles. 
 
 " Thee has it. But thee has been to church ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. Dr. Odell believes, as you do, that we are 
 rebels " 
 
 "I know that." 
 
268 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " No doubt ; but, unlike yourself, he intends to leave us.'' 
 
 "He leaves no estate behind." 
 
 " His treasure is above. He has been administering the 
 Holy Communion to a remnant of his flock, who have taken 
 a final leave of him at the altar." 
 
 "Mummery! Theatrical pageantry!" said Thomas. 
 
 "Mr. Schooley," said Charles, "if you discard the Holy 
 (Scriptures, your religion is that of the heathen ; but if you 
 be a Christian, how can you deride the commands of the 
 Saviour?" 
 
 "Rebuked in turn!" said Julia, as she sprang into the 
 hall of her guardian's house, which they had just reached. 
 
 " Charles," said Thomas, as the young man paused and 
 was about to return to his hotel, " if thee will come and 
 sup with us I will explain the principles of our religion." 
 
 "I will call during the evening," said Charles, "and 
 listen to thee, provided, if we should be converted, thou 
 wilt sanction our " 
 
 " Pooh ! nonsense !" said Thomas, entering the hall and 
 closing the door behind him. 
 
 After tea, Charles strode out alone to see by the moon- 
 light the changes which had taken place in the principal 
 streets of the old village. Burlington had then been 
 founded more than a hundred years. 
 
 As he slowly walked along the margin of the river, be- 
 tween Ben Shephard's tavern and the governor's house, he 
 was overtaken by Paddy. 
 
 " Be jabers ! and it's meself is glad to mate wid ye, Mis- 
 ther Charles," said he. 
 
 " The compliments of the evening to you, Paddy. I sup- 
 pose, Paddy, you are a happy man, now ; and nothing could 
 induce you to quit the town again. There is no danger 
 here." 
 
 "And there ye're out of it ! The bloody Bratish, if they 
 could catch me here, wud skin me alive, like an ail ; and, 
 as for sperrits, and witches, and hobgoblins, this ould village 
 bates any of the round towers in Ireland. Misther Charles, 
 do you belave the Quakers are rale flesh-and-blood paplc ?" 
 
 " Certainly !" 
 
 " Thin I don't ! Look at their faces, — all tallow and no 
 blood ! If one dies, it don't disturb a tay-party in the 
 Bame house They don't put stones over their graves, and 
 
SECOND SERIES. 269 
 
 a husband dont go in mournini]; for his wife. I don't be- 
 lave they're rale ilesh and bk)od. Wlien one dies the rest 
 know he's not gone far off; and I behive they can't be kept 
 under ground. I've sane 'em set in the mating-house wid- 
 out opening their mouths only jist to hoot and stare like 
 owls. Sure they are convarsing witli sperits wdien they're 
 silent. Look at their hats and coats, and tell me if mortal 
 men and women wud dress in that style ?" 
 
 "They must be mortal, Paddy, for they love money." 
 
 " And don't witches and sperits love the falthy lucre ? 
 Why do the ghosts of murthered paple guard the pun- 
 cheons of goold at the ould tannery in Wood Strate, hid 
 under ground by the pirate Kadd ? Why do the witches 
 daunce and sing ivery night under the sycamore by the 
 governor's house, if it ain't to watch the hidden treasure ? 
 I belave the Quakers are witches and sperits, and that the 
 Yankees did right to burn 'em and drown 'em." 
 
 "Nevertheless, you are in the service of one, Paddy; 
 but where are you going ?" 
 
 " To the governor's house itself. Here's a paper 
 sayled up which Mr. Schooley bade me deliver to an ould 
 famale woman at the door." 
 
 " Very well, I won't detain you ; but I'm afraid we won't 
 have the pleasure of your society in the country." 
 
 " But ye will ! Be the powers ! I wuddn't stay here 
 for — pause one moment, if ye plase, Misther Charles ! 
 Surely ye wuddn't be after going in that direction, right 
 up Wood Strate, past the Pirates' Tra, when the stars and 
 the moon are blanking, and wanking, and shammering, 
 like the ghostly sunlight in one's drames !" 
 
 " Yes, I am. If dead men, or women either, walk the 
 earth again, I'm not afraid of them." 
 
 " Thrue for you, Misther Charles; and Alexander, and 
 Saizer, and Charles the Twelfth, didn't fear man or baste , 
 but that didn't kape 'em out of danger. Let me go wid 
 ye. The sperits wont appear before two o' us." 
 
 " I'm obliged for your offer of protection, Paddy ; but 
 you have the packet to deliver farther down the bank." 
 
 " And sure it's but a trifle of a little step, and you can 
 jist come wid me, and thin I'll go home wid ye." 
 
 " Thank you, Paddy ; but I'll take my chances and 
 brave the anger of the dead pirates. Good-nigliL!" 
 
 23* 
 
270 WILD WESTERN SCENES! 
 
 " Och, Misther Charles ! now couldn't ye oblige me ? — 
 he's gone ! And I'm in a cowld swate ! And I'll have to 
 tak' howld of that haunted knocker ! And they say if the 
 divil's the last one that entered, the brass'll scorch one's 
 fangers ! Oeh, murther ! and there's no use in running 
 from 'em ! Onyhow, I'll pape round about first." 
 
 Such were Paddy's words as he drew near the stately 
 mansion ; while Charles paused at the tanyard in Wood 
 Street, and gazed at the tree under whose roots, it was said, 
 the pirates had buried their treasure, 
 
 "Who are you?" exclaimed our hero, his blood chilled, 
 and his heart palpitating in spite of himself, upon seeing 
 a figure rise up from one of the half-filled vats and ap- 
 proach him. 
 
 " Skippie," replied the other. 
 
 "And what are you doing here? acting the ghost? I 
 have heard there was such humour in you." 
 
 "Knocker," said Skippie. 
 
 " Knocker ! the haunted Knocker, I suppose ?" 
 
 Skippie nodded affirmatively. 
 
 " Then I am to understand you are the one who knocks ?" 
 
 Skippie again nodded. 
 
 " You need not have taken the precaution to inform me, 
 Skippie." 
 
 " Horse-hair." 
 
 " Horse-hair ? Now, you will have to make a speech of 
 more than two syllables if you would be understood." 
 
 But he did no such thing, for the next instant he had 
 vanished ; and Charles, after gazing round a moment, re- 
 sumed his brisk pace, and did not pause again until he was 
 admitted into the presence of Julia and her guardian. 
 
 Paddy, after a somewhat prolonged reconnoissance, and 
 during which he failed to discern the gliding form of Skip- 
 pie, softly approached the door of the governor's mansion, 
 and, raising the handle of the knocker, gave several timid 
 raps. 
 
 But no sooner had he relinquished the handle, and was 
 standing quite still, listening for a footstep within, than the 
 handle seemed to lift up itself before his face and make 
 three loud raps. 
 
 " Howly Vargin !" cried Paddy, sinking dowp on his 
 knees. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 271 
 
 Tlio door opened, and a tall, gaunt, white-haired woman 
 stjod before him. 
 
 " What do you want ?" she asked. 
 
 " Howlj St. Pater presarve us !" 
 
 " What do you want ? Did you not knock ?" 
 
 " Plase yer hon — yer riv — I mane yer worshipful patti- 
 coats 
 
 " Did you knock ?" again demanded the woman. 
 
 "I did; and, as sure as the sperits walk the earth, the 
 divil rapped after me. I saw it wid me own eyes ! And 
 it's a blessing I arrived first, or me hand wud be scorched 
 to the bone !" 
 
 " What do you want ?" 
 
 " I'm sure I'm obliged to ye for thim words, or I shud 
 niver've bane reminded of it ! Here's a sayled paper Mr. 
 Schooley has directed to somebody here, such as can rade 
 the inscription ; but, for me own part, I can't saa a scratch 
 of writing on the back o' it." 
 
 The woman took the paper from his hand, and re-entered, 
 closing the door behind her. Paddy, who had risen, stared 
 after her, and then at the mysterious knocker ; and, while 
 he gazed, the handle was lifted up again, and three distinct 
 raps sounded in his ears. 
 
 " That's another divil !" said he. "There's a whist club 
 of 'em mateing here to-night. And they'll drink melted 
 lead over their cards. Howly Vargin and St. Pater ! kape 
 Paddy Pence out of their stakes !" 
 
 The knocker was sounded again. 
 
 '' Another divil ! There's at layst a dizen in the club ! 
 Och, Patrick Pence ! if there's ony sprangs in yer legs, 
 let 'em do good sarvice now, or they'll niver be of any vally 
 to ye aftherwards !" And, saying this, he sprang away, 
 and ran with great speed up the river toward the Ferry- 
 House. When he reached the corner of Main Street, he 
 was met by young Ben Shephard, who accosted him. 
 
 "Are the witches after you, Paddy ?" asked the youth. 
 
 "A whole club of divils! They're mating at the gover- 
 nor's house." 
 
 " If that's it, they can't be chasing you. Come in and 
 take a glass of cideroil, and that will raise your spirits." 
 
 " Sperits, Misther Ben! Don't mintion 'em. But if you 
 ^jan let me have a glass of brandy or rum, I'll pay ye to- 
 
272 \V1LD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 morrow afthernoon," Paddj drank the liquor, and then 
 hastened back to his master's house, panting, but not so 
 pale as he had been. 
 
 When he presented himself in the apartment where Julia, 
 Charles, and Mr. Schooley were sitting, words rolled rapid- 
 ly from his tongue. He said he had not only heard the 
 devils, but he had seen them. The tips of their fingers 
 were like the points of red-hot pokers, and their breath 
 against the door made a black mark like burnt gunpowder. 
 
 " Thee has been drinking, I fear, Paddy," said Mr. 
 Schooley. 
 
 " Bless yer honour's sowl, I've not tasted a dhrop the 
 howl day, and I'll take me Bible-oath on it !" 
 
 ' " No oaths in my presence, Patrick, or thee must leave 
 my service Avithout a character. Answer me truly. Thee 
 says thee has drunk nothing daring the day. Has thee 
 not been drinking to-night?" 
 
 " Only a dhrop I tasted to-night at owld Ben Shephard's 
 — and that was afther I saw the divils and the witches. 
 Your honour may belave me — it's thrue, ivery word!" 
 
 Just then a rapping was heard at the door. 
 
 "Go, now, Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, "and see who 
 comes hither at this hour." 
 
 "Plase yer honour," said Paddy, his knees knocking to- 
 gether, " it's one of the divils ! I know his knock. And 
 he's afther me for promising to pay Ben Shephard for the 
 dhrink to-morrow afthernoon, whin I will be on the road to 
 Jenny Jump ! Misther Charles ! Miss Julia ! Wud ye not, 
 one o' ye, oblage me wid the loan of a thrippence to pay it?" 
 
 "Yes, Paddy," said Charles, holding forth the coin. 
 
 " And wud ye not bind me to yerself foriver by paying 
 it to him for me ?" 
 
 " Who ?" 
 
 " The divil." 
 
 "Nonsense, Patrick!" said Mr. Schooley. "Go to the 
 door! Does thee not hear the rapping?" 
 
 " Hear it ? It sounds like the last thrump which is to 
 waken the dead ! Howly Vargin presarve us !" 
 
 " Go to the door, I tell thee !" 
 
 Paddy spasmodically rushed into the hall, and, throwing 
 open the street-door, concealed himself behind it. He stood 
 there S'>me moments, but no one entered. Presently Mr. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 273 
 
 Schoolcy came into the liall with a light, and, seeing no 
 one, endeavoured to close the door, Avhich, however, was 
 held back by Paddy. 
 
 " What is thee doing behind there ?" asked the old gentle- 
 man. "And Avho knocked?" 
 
 " Who knocked ? Siu'e it was the divil !" 
 
 *' Pooh ! Close the door. But some one did knock ; and 
 1 suppose he got tired waiting for thee." 
 
 "And, plase yer honour, I hope he'll niver return," re- 
 plied Pad<ly, shutting the door and bolting it. But this 
 had hardly been completed before three distinct raps were 
 heard again. 
 
 "Now open it," said Mr. Schooley. 
 
 " It's the divil, yer honour ; and he don't git tired wait- 
 ing ; but he niver forgits to remember who he's afther !" 
 
 "Do thou hold the light, and I will open the door," said 
 Mr. Schooley. It was done ; but, no one appearing in 
 view, up or down the pavement, or across the street, Mr. 
 Schooley seemed very much surprised. 
 
 " Plase yer honour, he's vanished into thin air, and ye 
 naadn't look for him." Mr. Schooley made no reply, and 
 was proceeding to close the door, when three more knocks, 
 the vibrations of which could be distinctly felt, were 
 sounded while he still held the knob in his hand. 
 
 " The divil agin !" said Paddy. " The club's adjourned 
 to our house !" 
 
 Mr. Schooley, adjusting his spectacles, peered once more 
 into the street ; and, stepping out to the curb, stood some 
 moments in silence. And when he turned to re-enter, the 
 handle of the knocker was lifted, by some invisible means, 
 before his face, and rapped quite as startlingly as ever ! 
 
 " Murthcr ! I felt his breath on me chake !" cried Paddy, 
 letting the candle fall, and rushing back into the room 
 where Charles and Julia were sitting. 
 
 He was followed by Thomas, whose face was paler than 
 usual, and whose eyes stared wildly through the glasses of 
 his spectacles. 
 
 "No one is there," said he. "I don't understand it. 
 Thee may go to bed, Patrick." 
 
 "Plase yer honour, I'm afraid," said Paddy. 
 
 Charles and Julia were quite composed, for they kne^ 
 Skip pie was the author of the contrivance. 
 
274 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "Thee may satisfy thyself," said Mr. Schooley to 
 Charles, hearing the rapping again. 
 
 Charles went to the door, and, hearing a rustling among 
 the branches of the large tree that stood at the 3urb, 
 looked up and recognised Skippie. 
 
 "Ask him now!" whispered Skippie. 
 
 "Ask for what?" demanded Charles. 
 
 "Julia. Consent!" 
 
 "Come down, and go to your room at the hotel," said 
 Charles. "No more of this nonsense. I want none of 
 your aid," Then, after a brief examination of the knocker, 
 he discovered a line of white hairs, from a horse's tail, 
 reaching from the handle of the knocker to the tree. This 
 he snapped asunder, and re-entered. 
 
 "It was an idle boy's trick," said he, in answer to the 
 inquiring eyes of Mr. Schooley. "Adieu, Julia," he con- 
 tinued; " we will start early in the morning, and should be 
 at rest now." 
 
 " Howld ! Misther Charles, if ye plase !" said Paddy, 
 following the young man through the hall, and endeavour- 
 ing to detain him. 
 
 "Go to bed, Paddy," said Charles, "and be up early 
 in the morning. There will be no more knocking to- 
 night." 
 
 " And did ye saa him, and have ye his word for it ?" 
 
 " No matter ; you will not be troubled again. Go to 
 bed, and think no more about it." 
 
 " But me drames, Misther Charles ! — they'll come back 
 in me drames, and " Charles was gone. 
 
 About the same hour that Charles retired to rest, a muf- 
 fled individual emerged from the tavern, and, turning west- 
 ward, proceeded along what is now Broad Street; but at 
 that time there were no houses west of Main Street except- 
 ing the chu; ch and parsonage. The solitary nocturnal pe- 
 destrian, p;!s.sing the Quaker graveyard, entered Wood 
 Street and directed his steps toward the river. When he 
 reached the gate in the rear of the governor's mansion, he 
 paused and reconnoitred the avenues in the vicinity. 
 
 Taking a key from his vest-pocket, Mr. Franklin — for it 
 was the late royal governor, a fair, fat man of forty — en- 
 tered the garden. Breathing freely, for he deemed himself 
 now in a place of security, he lingered a moment gazing at 
 
SECOND SERIES. 275' 
 
 the loveliness of the scene, -whicli it was quite impossible for 
 him tc abandon without regret. 
 
 By means of another key he entered the rear-door of the 
 mansion, and was embraced by the tall gray-haired woman 
 in charge of the premises. 
 
 "My mother!" 
 
 "My son!" 
 
 These were the words uttered. 
 
 "You must go with me to New York, mother," said he. 
 
 "No, I shall remain. Such is the will of your father." 
 
 " But if his will be done, mother, what will become of 
 me ? HoAvever, it won't be done ! The cause he is em- 
 barked in is a hopeless one, and, as your affection for him 
 can never be eradicated, it might be in your power to serve 
 him if you resided near the head-quarters of the royal 
 army. Depend upon it, he will require our interposition to 
 save him from destruction." 
 
 "No more of that, William," said she, with a sigh. 
 "Your father knows best, and it is my duty to be governed 
 by his direction." 
 
 " Then be it so, good mother ! But the papers ! the 
 letters!" he continued, following his parent into the 
 library. 
 
 " Here they are," said she, taking a large packet from a 
 table on which a small lamp was dimly burning. 
 
 " Are all of them here ? I have not time to examine 
 them." 
 
 "All. But why not destroy your father's letters?" 
 
 " I shall have use for them, perhaps, in my efforts to 
 save him. If not, mother, they shall never be used to his 
 injury." 
 
 " I hope not, my son ! And, if they be properly inter- 
 preted, they could not be. Whatever Lord Bute may 
 allege to the contrary, I have the best reason to know he 
 was always true to the cause of liberty." 
 
 "Liberty! Mother, do I not enjoy as much liberty as 
 my father V 
 
 " I think not. He never skulked about in the night to 
 avoid identification." 
 
 " But if he were to venture within our lines he would do 
 the same thing." 
 
 " He will never go to the British 
 
276 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " Enough, mother. Time is precious, and I must be on 
 the road before morning. Has Mr. Schooley come ?" ^^ 
 "No ; I hear the signal now. That is the low rap." 
 She glided, feeling her way, through the dark hall, and 
 a moment after returned, leading in Friend Thomas, who 
 was greeted in a very friendly manner by the ex-governor. 
 ' " I am glad to see thee looking so well, "William, and in 
 Buch high spirits. I trust thee is cheered by the prospects 
 ahead." 
 
 " Certainly. During the year both Philadelphia and 
 New York will be in possession of his Majesty's troops, and 
 it will go hard if I am not restored to my office, New Jer- 
 sey lying between those cities." 
 
 " It would seem so, indeed, friend William. But thee 
 must rely upon the royal troops ; thee cannot count upon 
 efficient aid from the citizens." 
 
 " Then the citizens, as you call them, will have no special 
 claims on me when I am restored." 
 
 " Dost thou mean, ^YiIliam, that thy restoration will be a 
 cancellation of thy debts?" 
 
 " No. Ha ! ha ! ha ! I owe thee a thousand pounds, 
 Thomas, borrowed money, which I will repay." 
 
 " I never could doubt thy honesty, William ; and I hope 
 thee intends to pay me to-night." 
 
 " Not a stiver ! I have no money, and will not have any 
 until the war is over." 
 
 "What? Does thee say thee has no money? Why didst 
 thou, then, write me to meet thee here ?" Thomas was much 
 surprised, and deeply disappointed. 
 
 "I desired information and assistance." 
 " Thee gets no more assistance from me !" 
 " I mean assistance for the king. I hope you will not 
 deny his authority." 
 
 " Thee knows I am loyal ; but I will not fight. I can do 
 nothing for or against either party. All I desire is to be 
 permitted to rest in peace." 
 
 " You can tell me how the influential men are affected, 
 and what is the sentiment of the other classes." 
 
 " Thee knows as much as I do. The people are divided, 
 and are required at home to keep each other in order." 
 
 " Good news that, Thomas ! The rebels have no money, 
 and cannot long maintain an army if the people are equall}' 
 
SECOND SERIES. 2i 
 
 divided. But we must be fed. We want another hundred 
 head of cattle. Can you fill the contract ?" 
 
 " I shall haA'e some beef-steers and fatted dry-cows for 
 sale. They will be driven to the Hudson in the ni^dit to 
 avoid the robbers roving by day. I shall ask so much per 
 head in gold, and I will not inquire whether the purchaser be 
 Whig or Tory." 
 
 "And you can add fifty per cent, to their value and con- 
 eider one-half of my indebtedness liquidated." 
 
 " I must do no such thing, William. If my price is too 
 ihuch, no one is bound to make the purchase. But thee has 
 something else to say." 
 
 " Yes. When we are again in possession of the Jerseys, 
 you must come back and reside in the civilized portion of 
 the State. All the settlements near the head-waters of the 
 Delaware will be destroyed by the Indians. Brandt and 
 the Butlers have been charged with that service. The 
 Sachem is furious. He has learned that his sister was 
 murdered by the men under the command of the young 
 rebel who levies contributions from thee and other true 
 loyalists near the Gap, and who, it is said, is to wed thy 
 rich ward." 
 
 "William, it is all untrue — untrue from beginning to 
 end, as I verily believe. My ward says it was a Seneca 
 Indian, obeying the command of the old woman called 
 Queen Esther, who fired the fatal shot. And Julia never 
 Ues." 
 
 " But we must not discredit the other story. We must 
 say nothing on the subject. We are at war, you know." 
 
 " I am at peace with all men." 
 
 " Nonsense ! If you be at peace with his Majesty's ene- 
 mies, you make yourself his enemy. You will need his 
 clemency and protection to retain your estates, after this 
 ward of thine has married the young rebel officer: — and he, 
 too, the son of Lochiel ! Why has not Bonnel Moody 
 seized him ? Why have you, as a magistrate, not had him 
 arrested ? Thomas, these things will be against thee when 
 peace is restored." 
 
 " I have resigned my commission, William." 
 
 "And that was right !" said the old lady. 
 
 " It was not accepted !" said her son. 
 
 " But that man has more friends than the King in our 
 
 24 
 
27Sf WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 neighbourhood. I don't know where they come from," con- 
 tinued Thomas, " but I tell thee the truth. He cannot be 
 taken. Whenever he is assaulted, the Scots come from 
 every quarter to defend him." 
 
 " Well, get thee out of the neighbourhood before the 
 Bavages arrive ! They will overwhelm every thing, like the 
 lava from a volcano !" 
 
 *' Thee knows our people have nothing to fear from the 
 Indians," said Thomas, "and I shall remain in the country 
 till peace be restored." 
 
 "That is right!" said the old lady. "And I don't 
 think King George will ever reign over this people again." 
 
 " You don't know any thing about it, mother !" said her 
 son, evincing the impatience and displeasure he felt. 
 
 " But thy father does. He was never mistaken in hia 
 predictions." 
 
 "1 am sorry to hear thee say so," said Thomas, musing, 
 for he attached great importance to the opinions of the 
 elder Franklin, with whom he was well acquainted, and 
 with whom he had held several discussions on the subject 
 of negro emancipation, Thomas being the owner of valuable 
 slaves. 
 
 " He says France will assist the Colonies, and advises all 
 persons who have estates not to imperil them by joining a 
 doomed party." 
 
 "Mother," cried her son, "no more of this! I am the 
 President of the Associated Loyalists, and have better 
 means of judging than my father in France. One-half the 
 people in Jersey are loyal." 
 
 " They were, William, until you set Fenton and other 
 freebooters to robbing and burnino- !" 
 
 " They merely retaliate on the rebels who have ravaged 
 my farm on the Rancocas." 
 
 " That was after you had Richard Stockton seized and 
 thrown into prison." 
 
 "All the enemies of the King should be seized. We'll 
 have Stevens and Livingston next ! But I must away ! 
 Friend Thomas, if you would partake of the fruits of our 
 victory, you must contribute something to produce it. 
 Confer with your people " 
 
 "We can do nothing, William." 
 
 " Enough ! The awurd will di'cide every thing. Theu 
 
SECOND SERIES. 279 
 
 there will be a day of reckoning ! But learn that within 
 a month the royal armies in the Colonies will number at 
 least forty thousand men. AVashington has not ten thou- 
 sand ! Choose ye between them !" 
 
 " No ! Thee cannot make me choose either. I prefer 
 the reaping-hook to the sword. But, William, canst thou 
 not pay me in part " 
 
 "Not a stiver, now ! I have not money enough to pay 
 for a dinner, as your man at the hotel can bear witness." 
 
 "But has thee not some plate " 
 
 " Yes, on Staten Island ! If you will call there, you 
 may take it." 
 
 " Ah, William ! I fear " 
 
 "Yes, fear and tremble, and thus work out your sal- 
 vation." 
 
 " Farewell, William ! When we next meet, I hope thee 
 will be in a better humour." 
 
 "And in a better condition to pay the debt. Farewell; 
 but do not desert the royal cause !" 
 
 " Thee need not fear that, even if I lose the thousand 
 pounds." 
 
 " The hope of regaining the thousand pounds wnll, I 
 think, contribute to keep you faithful to his Majesty." 
 
 " Thee may think what thee pleases ! But I will not 
 rebuke thee. Farewell." 
 
 And Thomas departed, while Franklin hummed the 
 verses from Shakspeare's Macbeth, beginning, " When 
 shall Ave three meet again ?" 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 JENNY JUMP — RETURN OF THE PRISONERS — BATTLE AT 
 THE INN. 
 
 Leaving to the imagination of the reader the meeting 
 of Kate and Julia and Solo — of Charles with his father, 
 and Paddy with everybody — and the effect the narration 
 of their adventures had upon the minds of the neighbours, — 
 it will be necessary, without delay, to proceed to scenes of 
 
280 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 a different nature, and to use the utmost privilege of con- 
 densation to confine them within the limits prescribed. 
 
 One day, Avhen Julia and Kate and Charles were sit- 
 ting under the broad boughs of the old council-tree, in the 
 quiet little valley where the lovers' vows had been ex- 
 changed the preceding year, they were startled by the 
 sudden barking of Solo, who had been panting at their 
 feet. But, upon observing the faithful sentinel wag hia 
 tail, they were satisfied no enemy lurked in the vicinity ; 
 and, a moment after, they beheld Calvin, the young 
 Delaware chief, slowly and gloomily approaching. His 
 form was wasted, and his eyes deep sunken in his head. 
 
 "My brother!" said Charles, stepping forth and tender- 
 ing his hand to the young man. He grasped it in silence, 
 and then saluted the ladies in the same melancholy manner. 
 After this strange proceeding the young chief occupied the 
 seat which had been offered him, and, sighing deeply, re- 
 mained with his eyes fixed upon the ground. His affection 
 for the lost Thrush being known and respected, no one de- 
 sired to make allusion to the mournful catastrophe. 
 
 "You do not come as an enemy, I ain sure," said Kate, 
 " or else the faithful Solo would have resisted your ap- 
 proach." 
 
 "No," said the Delaware; " the Wilted Grass lies on 
 the silent grave. It is no longer among the dewy buds. 
 The spring and summer of its existence have passed away. 
 The blossoms have fallen, and the sweetest flower of the 
 forest hath faded ! It can never again lift up its head. 
 Speak to one another, laugh, and be happy. As for me, 
 regard me as one perished from the earth !" 
 
 "No!" said Julia, "you must learn to forget the woes 
 of the past ; be strong of heart and cheerful of spirit." 
 
 "Among the men of our race," said Kate, "with whom 
 you have lived and been educated, it is not usual to die of 
 grief when a loved object vanishes." 
 
 "No," said Calvin, his head still drooping; "they are 
 like the fowls of the barn- yard. But I am as the lonely 
 dove of the forest, perched upon a blasted tree, waiting in 
 vain for the mate whose breast has been pierced by some 
 cruel sportsman." 
 
 "But you will meet in heaven," said Julia. 
 
 "Ay — and I would go thither without delay." 
 
SECOND SERIES. 281 
 
 "We must submit without complaining to the will of 
 God," said Charles. "But tell me, Calvin, is it true the 
 Mohawks believe that I or one of my party winged the 
 fatal messenger?" 
 
 " The Senecas say so, and Queen Esther asserts it. The 
 Oneidas alone deny it. Gentle Moonlight, your foster- 
 mother, is a raving maniac, ever calling upon you to save 
 the Thrush from the arrows of Queen Esther !" 
 
 "I feared so!" said Charles, sadly. "But the Senecas, 
 who perpetrated the deed, and their demoniac queen, who 
 demanded the sacrifice, shall pay the penalty! Will you 
 not go with me and my company into Tryon county?" 
 
 " No. I am going home to die. Or, if the Great Spirit 
 will not permit me to perish in my youth, I will bury my- 
 self in the Cedar Swamp, where neither wars nor the ru- 
 mours of wars can reach me." 
 
 " But the rest? — can you tell me what has become of my 
 faithful Scots and Van Wiggens and Peter Shaver?" 
 
 "There !" said Calvin, pointing in the direction of the 
 Delaware River. And, to the great joy of Charles, Wilted 
 Grass informed him that the whole party had escaped from 
 the Indian villages, with some twenty Oneidas, and were 
 then approaching the settlement. He had left theni in the 
 morning at the river, and parted with them merely to an- 
 nounce their coming. 
 
 And, having performed his mission, the stricken youth 
 rose up and vanished in the forest. He did not pause when 
 they besought him to remain, nor answered a word to their 
 entreaties. 
 
 The girls and Charles hastened away to announce the 
 tidings. The news was received with stoical indifference at 
 the house of Mr. Schooley, where Kate was now sojourning 
 with Julia. Richard was the overseer, and neither Van 
 Wiggens nor Peter Shaver ever managed the farm to a 
 better purpose than he. 
 
 But the tidings of the return of Hugh McSwine and his 
 little band of Caledonians afforded very great satisfaction 
 to the "Gentle Lochiel," the recluse father of Charles. 
 Nevertheless, his bleached locks seemed to assume a more 
 silvery aspect and his face a more deathly pallor as he 
 gazed upon his son's preparations to march away again in 
 obedience to an order from Colonel Dayton to join him 
 
 24^ 
 
282 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 with his company at Fort Schuyler, in Tryon county, New 
 York. 
 
 "Charles," said he, "beware of the warning! It was 
 the same that appeared to me in Scotland. Never agree to 
 any capitulation with a faithless foe. Such were the 
 words." 
 
 "You do not seriously believe in such things, my fa- 
 ther," said Charles ; " and I am sure it was but a feverish 
 dream." 
 
 " Wizards are spoken of in the Bible and in the writings 
 of Sliakspeare. I spurned the warning before the day of 
 blood on the field of Culloden. If I did not die, I fell. 
 We may doubt, but not deny. May God shield you ! For 
 myself, my time is nearly spent." 
 
 Charles did all he could to cheer his desponding parent, 
 and, prevailing on him to recount some of the romantic ad- 
 ventures of Charles Edward when a fugitive, he beheld 
 once more the flashing eyes of the Highland chieftain. 
 
 In the afternoon the news of the approach of the return- 
 ing prisoners, accompanied by twenty Oneida Indians, 
 having spread for miles round, the inhabitants of the entire 
 neighbourhood assembled in front of Mrs. Van AViggens's 
 tavern, now a famous stopping-place, to witness their 
 arrival. 
 
 Mrs. Van Wiggens was very nervous, sometimes appa- 
 rently gay and lively, and at others musing and abstracted. 
 She was doing well enough alone. She had mourned her 
 husband's loss without weeping, and had quite recovered 
 from the effects of the deprivation. But now the wound 
 was opened afresh, and Van Wiggens himself, having sur- 
 vived amid incredible dangers, was approaching, alive and 
 in good health. 
 
 Julia and Kate sat in the carriage before the door of the 
 inn, where they had been joined by Charles. Paddy held 
 the reins. The drum and fife and bagpipe were heard 
 down in the hollow, where Murphy had marched the com- 
 pany of patriots to welcome the Avanderers and conduct 
 them to the place under a spreading oak, where an ox had 
 been slaughtered for their benefit. This was the contribu- 
 tion of the Whigs of the vicinity. 
 
 The first individual of the returning party who made hia 
 appearance at the inn was the little stump-tailed dog, 
 
SECOND SERIES. 283 
 
 Watch, ■who was recognised and received with a burst of 
 laughter. He ran into the blacksmith-shop and smelt at 
 the knee of his master's negro. 
 
 " Is dat you, Watch ?" exclaimed Sambo, his eyes 
 twinkling and his uplifted arm suspended over the anvil. 
 
 AVatch bounded away, and was met on the steps of the 
 rude porch in front of the inn by Mrs. Van Wiggens's large 
 black tomcat, whose swollen tail and arched back indicated 
 the nature of the reception the dog was to have within. 
 But Watch had crushed the bones of too many coons and 
 other animals in the woods, to be easily repulsed by a do- 
 mesticated '* vannint," and that, too, on the threshold of 
 his own premises. So he accepted the proffered battle, 
 and, springing upon his foe, which was nearly as large as 
 himself, but not so experienced in desperate warfare, filled 
 the air with canine and carnivorous sounds, while the fur 
 flew in every direction. 
 
 " It's my cat 1 my poor Tom !" exclaimed Mrs. Van Wig- 
 gens, rushing forth, broomstick in hand, and striving in vain 
 to part the combatants. As often as she lifted the stick to 
 decide the conflict, Watch shifted his position ; so that, when 
 the instrument was about to descend, the black cat was 
 either uppermost or occupying the place the dog had held 
 the moment before. 
 
 " Mercy on us !" once cried the frightened hostess, when 
 she had made a determined rush upon the struirslino; ani- 
 mals, and Watch, avoiding the broomstick, rolled over with 
 the cat and continued the combat under the protecting 
 shelter of the strong linsey-woolsey gown of his mistress. 
 Mrs. Van Wiggens sprang aside, and, with a glowing face, 
 aimed a random blow, which fell upon poor Tom's head and 
 terminated the battle. He was stunned, but not killed ; 
 and Watch would have given him another shake, had he 
 not been prevented by his master, who stepped forward 
 and lifted him up in his arms. 
 
 " The nasty dog !" cried Mrs. Van Wiggens. " Do kill 
 him for me, Mr. Indian." 
 
 '^ Tam'd if I do ! Poor Vatch !" 
 
 "Why, whose voice is that?" cried Mrs. Van Wiggens, 
 rushing forward, and gazing in the face of her husband- 
 " Is this you, Mr. Van Wiggens, coming home painted and 
 dressed like a savage ? And to bring back the impudent 
 
284 WILD WESTFRN SCENES: 
 
 dog which couldn't be killed, like yourself! Yes, it is jou ! 
 But the paint hides your blush of shame. And what did 
 you go oiF for ? Why did you abandon your family " 
 
 '"• Tam it, stop ! Stop a minute ! You said vamily — va- 
 mily ! — vat vamily's you got ? My vamily never vas !" 
 
 " Oh, you needn't fire up so ! And you must bring back 
 the nasty dog ! You know how I hate him ! He'll steal 
 the meat off the gridiron ! You know I hate a dog and a 
 bear!" 
 
 Mrs. Van Wiggens had once been almost suffocated by a 
 huge pet-bear, and ever afterward that animal was the 
 most terrible of all others. 
 
 "Veil," said Van Wiggens, "I've brung you von nice 
 bear. Lead him here, Peter." 
 
 Peter Shaver, likewise habited as an Indian, came for- 
 ward, leading a half-grown bear, whose eyes seemed to 
 glisten with delight on seeing the horror-stricken hostess. 
 He stood up on his hind-feet, his arms asunder, as if de- 
 sirous of embracing his mistress. 
 
 Mrs. Van Wiggens screamed, and trembled violently. 
 She besought her lord, to whom she promised entire sub- 
 mission, to send the horrid beast away. 
 
 "Veil," said Van Wiggens, "I'll have him painted first 
 on de sign — and de sign shall pe te bear and te anvil. 
 And you mustn't take it down agin." 
 
 And subsequently this sign became famous among travel- 
 lers in that region. 
 
 During this brief scene it may be supposed that the 
 young ladies in the carriage were highly entertained, and 
 readily espoused the side of the husband. 
 
 But the general joy was cut short by the arrival of run- 
 ners from New York and Pennsylvania, with the informa- 
 tion that the Butlers and Brandt, led by St. Leger, were 
 approaching from Canada, and, if the forts on the frontier 
 were not quickly manned and bravely defended, the whole 
 region between the Susquehanna and the Delaware, and 
 on both sides of those rivers, would be overrun and ravaged 
 by the Indians and Tories. 
 
 No time was to be lost. Disgusted at his own recep- 
 tion, and the manner in which his dog had been welcomed 
 back, Van Wiggens was the first of the returned party who 
 offered to march with Charles. But, subsequently, nearly 
 
SECOND SET^TFf?. 285 
 
 all wlio had beer in the wild woods with our hero, as well aa 
 the small party of Oneidas, enrolled themselves in his com- 
 pany. And, as each announced his purpose, Tim Murphy 
 had the occasion signalized by a grand roll of the drum. 
 
 " I am almost tempted to volunteer myself," said Kate; 
 " and I believe, if I were not here to keep her company, 
 Julia could not be prevented from going." 
 
 " She has been accustomed to see her defenders in the 
 act of fighting," said Charles ; *' and no doubt her presence 
 has given additional vigour to many a sinewy arm. We 
 shall miss her. But she will — both if you will — think of 
 us and utter prayers for our success. We shall be defend- 
 ing you still ; and it is better to meet the enemy at the first 
 outposts than to resist them here. The forts once fallen, 
 this would cease to be a place of security. But we shall 
 probably return very soon. There will be no long sieges." 
 
 We must now pass over many historical events in which 
 some of our characters were conspicuous actors, but which 
 are not embraced within the limited scope of this narrative. 
 The fall of Herkimer, the timidity of Woolsey, the venial 
 tardiness of Van Rensselaer, and the alternate successes 
 and disasters in the North, the reader must be already suffi- 
 ciently familiar with. Charles Cameron, Hugh McSwine, 
 and Tim Murphy, performed their duty in all the conflicts in 
 which they were engaged with the enemy in fort or field, 
 and received the commendations of their superior officers. 
 Nevertheless, the tide of invasion was not driven back. 
 Although Sullivan destroyed the Indian villages and crops 
 on the lakes, and although Burgoyne was under the neces- 
 sity of surrendering to Gates, yet Philadelphia had fallen, 
 and the enemy possessed the two principal cities in the 
 Colonies and commanded all the harbours. 
 
 It was at such a time, Avhen the more densely-populated 
 districts were paralyzed by the presence of overwhelming 
 numbers of the British and Hessians, that the dark stream 
 of sanguinary savages poured down the Susquehanna and 
 Delaware valleys, and ravaged all the Western borders. 
 
 And during the absence of the Jersey volunteers from 
 the counties of Hunterdon, Warren, and Sussex, Bonnel 
 Moody, with his band of robber Tories, committed many 
 depredations on the unresisting inhabitants, consi*iting 
 mostly of old men, women, and children. 
 
286 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 But the young ladies continued for some time to enjoy 
 an exemption from molestation at Thomas Schoohiy's 
 huuse. 
 
 And Paddy, with spade in hand, was content to fight 
 his battles in the garden ; while Richard, tired of the de- 
 lays dictated by Judith Carlisle, w'ho loved him not, and 
 whose father, it seemed, had other projects in view as his 
 fortunes rose, again sought to win the hand of Julia, to the 
 infinite diversion of Kate. The hum of Mary's wheel was 
 incessant in the parlour, and the bang of the loom, propelled 
 by a negro woman, vibrated from the adjoining shed 
 without. 
 
 Nevertheless, the repose of Mr. Schooley's household was 
 doomed to a sad interruption, as will be seen in the next 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE SETTLEMENT INVADED BY THE INDIANS — ASTONISHING 
 FEATS OF PADDY AND MRS. VAN WIQGENS. 
 
 The Indians, if they did not make night-assaults, prowled 
 about in the day, killing their enemies and destrojnng such 
 property as they could not bear away. The Tories, de- 
 sirous of escaping detection when the next turn of Fortune's 
 wheel might dim the lustre of the cause they espoused, con- 
 trived to keep out of view as much as possible. But their 
 depredations and cruelties after sunset were awful. 
 
 Skippie, who saw every thing if he spoke nothing, had 
 been well advised of the approaching tempest, and gave 
 his chief early information of Moody's contemplated attack. 
 And the Gentle Lochiel had invited Julia and Kate to 
 take shelter within his strong walls, until the company of 
 patriots, commanded by his son, whose absence had been 
 protracted, should return to the neighbourhood. The girls, 
 under injunctions of secresy, had been previously admitted 
 within the hidden chambers ; and therefore, when the sum- 
 mons came, accompanied by the intelligence that the In- 
 dians (a detachment that passed the forts and descended 
 
SECOND FERIES. 287 
 
 the rivers) had murflererl Colonel Allen in his bed, and a 
 whole family by the name of Wells, even tomahawking and 
 scalping the infant children, they obeyed with alacrity. 
 It -was in vain that Mr. Schooley objected ; and Mr. Green 
 and others, who were ignorant of the nature of the asylum 
 tendered them, besought them not to take refuge under the 
 roof of a proscribed exile. The Moravians — those that 
 remained, being few in number — offeied such sanctuary 
 as their structures afforded, and vainly supposed their pre- 
 cincts would be respected by the Tory as well as by the 
 Indian. 
 
 Kate and Julia were hastening away with Skippie, when 
 Mary Schooley's wheel ceased its humming sound, and the 
 old lady m.ade a last adjuration as follows : — 
 
 •' Thee will be scandalized forever ! Thee must pause 
 and reflect. Thee should be aware that to be shut up in a 
 lonely place Avith a man " 
 
 "I will go, Mary!" said Julia, with decision and firm- 
 ness. "Dr. Odell, if he were here, would sanction our 
 temporary abode with that pure gray-haired old man. 
 And it seems to me that the pure of heart could never 
 imagine any ill proceeding from such a source. We may 
 confide in our fathers, I think, with quite as much security 
 as in the usual gossiping guardians of the public morality. 
 Come, Kate !" 
 
 "But thee must not return " began Mary, when she 
 
 was checked by Thomas. 
 
 "Not return!" cried Julia, thoroughly aroused; "and 
 ■why not ? Is not this house, this estate, mine ? Come, 
 Solo !" 
 
 " If the King will suffer thee to have it," was the only 
 reply that reached the ear of the offended girl, who uttered 
 not another word, but hastened away, followed by Richard, 
 who had become more desperately in love than ever. But 
 she did not heed him. Kate, however, pretended to admire 
 the slighted young man, and derived much amusement from 
 his perplexities. 
 
 The girls had not been gone more than a few hours, 
 before Paddy ran in from the garden. 
 
 " They're coming, yer honour, they're coming !" cried he; 
 *' and I know they're tomahawking and sculping the paple 
 on the way, for they are the blo:>dy Senecas I" 
 
288 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 "How does thee know that?" demanded Mr. Schooley 
 "Has thee seen them?" 
 
 " No, yer honour, but I heard the jackass !" 
 
 " The jackass !" 
 
 "Yes, Pater Shaver's jackass ; Popcorn's jackass." 
 
 " Thee knows Peter is with the wicked men of blood in 
 tlie Northern forts." 
 
 " But the Senecas, with Pater's ass, are here — here, I tell 
 ye ! — and yonder they come through the orchard ! Och, 
 tnurther ! I'll hide ! They may spare you, but I know 
 they'd kill me !" 
 
 And Paddy ran out through the back door, and into the 
 loom-house, and concealed himself in the loft, where a few 
 planks were laid loosely over the joists. 
 
 When the foremost of the Indians leaped over the fence 
 into the yard, the fat old Rose, who was to have attended 
 her mistress, but contrived delays, as usual, was met by 
 them as she emerged from the kitchen with her packs and 
 bundles. 
 
 The leader of the Indians ordered her to put down her 
 burden, and, being neither comprehended nor obeyed, 
 he attempted to snatch the articles out of her herculean 
 arms. 
 
 " No you don't, you nasty mulatto ! Clar out, and mind 
 your business, or Massa Charles'll be arter you!" 
 
 " Charles ! He come back ?" said the Indian, still grasp- 
 ing a bundle. 
 
 "None o' your business ! Let go !" she continued, and, 
 making a violent effort, hurled the savage some ten feet 
 distant, his shoulder coming first in contact with the earth, 
 to the infinite amusement of his party. 
 
 " Dern !" cried the infuriated Indian, using one of the 
 expletives of the white man ; and, springing up, aimed his 
 tomahawk at Eose's head. It sank into one of the bun- 
 dles of clothing without doing her any injury. But it 
 damaged her mistress's wardrobe, and roused the fury of 
 the faithful old servant. So, seizing the glittering instru- 
 ment, she hurled it back at the leader of the savages. It 
 flew wide of the mark, but penetrated the forehead of one 
 of the dusky laughing spectators. He fell, pierced to the 
 brain, amid the vengeful yells of his companions. In an 
 instant poor Rose was perforated with half a dozen rifle- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 289 
 
 balls, and cxpiretl witliout a groan, — her large white eyes 
 still open, and her brow contracted. 
 
 Thomas and Mary, having witnessed these bloody feats 
 from the window, were painfully shocked, but still appre- 
 hended no danger themselves. 
 
 " How do?" said the chief, entering the house, and fol- 
 lowed by most of his companions. 
 
 "I hope thee is well," said Thomas; "but thee should 
 not have killed the old woman. Thee should have sought 
 justice before the civil tribunals. Thee " 
 
 " Stop them, Thomas ! Dost thou not see them splitting 
 the oak chest?" cried Mary, Avhose wheel hummed spas- 
 modically, and the thread was broken. 
 
 " I arn a friend of the King, as thee has no doubt heard," 
 continued Thomas. 
 
 "Me no hear!" was the angry reply of the Indian. 
 
 " I tell thee I am loyal ; and we have been preparing 
 food for thee. Sit down and eat. Call back thy band ; 
 they are killing my woman in the loom-house ! Thee must 
 not permit such acts !" 
 
 "Me no come to eat. Me come for scalps!" said the 
 Indian. 
 
 " But thee must not hurt thy friends." 
 
 " Friends' scalp too. You no scalp our enemies. You 
 no friend. Me take your scalp." 
 
 " No, no ; thee will do no such thing. Let us save the 
 woman in the loom-house. Thee must not permit them to 
 kill her !" 
 
 And Thomas, despite the threatening attitude of the In- 
 dian, led the way into the loom -house, where he was fol- 
 lowed, and quickly surrounded by the savages. 
 
 The negro woman, who had been weaving, lay bleeding 
 before him, tomahawked and scalped ; and there Thomas 
 himself, and Mary, pale and speechless with terror, were 
 rudely seized. 
 
 "Thee will suifer for this deed !" said Thomas. "Do 
 not tremble, Mary. They will not harm thee. They merely 
 want our money." 
 
 "Money! Avhere is it?" demanded the chief, whose arm 
 had only been withheld until he could obtain such intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 25 
 
290 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " It is not thine, and thee shall not have it !" said 
 Thomas. 
 
 " Oh, let them have it !" said Mary, recovering her speech. 
 "They will then spare us !" 
 
 "No !" was the savage reply ; and the Indian wound his 
 hand in her long gray hair. 
 
 " Thee will all suffer for this outrage !" said Thomas. 
 
 This threat only precipitated matters. Several toma- 
 hawks were uplifted to dispatch the victims ; and Thomas, 
 seeing no relenting symptoms in the countenances of his 
 captors, cried, " Come down I come, Paddy, to the rescue !" 
 
 The savages looked up. Paddy, in petrified horror, had 
 been gazing down. He was now incapable of stepping 
 back out of view ; but rather, in the terrible fascination of 
 the moment, like the bird when falling into the jaws of the 
 rattlesnake, tottered forward on the loose planks, which 
 gave way, the ends opposite flying up, and he was pre- 
 cipitated, with a terrible crash, to the earth. The Indians 
 yelled and ran out. They supposed a large party of the 
 enemy were concealed in the loft, and believed Thomas had 
 led them into an ambuscade ; and Paddy's voice sufficed for 
 the tongues of a dozen men. Seeing them run, he called 
 on an incredible number of saints to save him. The In- 
 dians believed they were the names of persons really ex- 
 isting, and then present with rifles in their hands ; and so 
 they fled away and sought shelter in the woods. 
 
 " Thee has saved us !" said Mary, seizing the hand of 
 Paddy, which still trembled. 
 
 " Howly Pater and Paul !" cried he, " I thank ye both ! 
 It was the blissed saints, yer honour," he continued, address- 
 ing Thomas, who stood staring at his Aveltering slave. " The 
 howly church has saved us ; and I hope yer honour will go 
 to mass for it !" 
 
 " Thee knows not what thee says," was the response of 
 Thomas. " It was not thy saints nor thy valour, but my 
 presence of mind, which saved us." 
 
 " Och, murther ! Be me sowl, I'll niver do a great 
 action agin ! Sich ingratitude and vanity ! And did not 
 Paddy himself put 'em to flight like King David did Goliah 
 and his hosts ?" 
 
 " Nonsense, Patrick ! Don't stond there repeating those 
 old fictions. Thee must be active. (Jo for Mr. Green " 
 
SECOND SERIES. 291 
 
 "Misther Grane? He's gone himself, sir !" 
 
 « Where?" 
 
 " Phase yer honour, you forgit what he said yisterday." 
 
 " Thee speaks the truth now ; I did forget. He said he 
 would go to some block-house, and I should have gone with 
 him." 
 
 " As I was saying, yer honour, the howly saints took pity 
 on us, and tilted up the planks " 
 
 " Thee must not talk such nonsense, Patrick. Thee must 
 help me to bury this woman. Dig a grave in the orchard." 
 
 *• But I hope yer honour will niver deny that I saved you 
 and Misthress Schooley from an awful death " 
 
 " Patrick, thee is trembling yet !" 
 
 " Trembling, is it ? No, yer honour, it's hate !" 
 
 " Hate ? thee must not hate any one." 
 
 " Hate onybody ? that isn't it. I mane hate o' the 
 blood — choler — passion. Me blood is byling with hate ! 
 And did I not rush down in the middle and surround 'em ? 
 Plase answer me that, Mr. Schooley ! And it'll be a tale 
 to be towld in the chimbley-corners o' winter nights after 
 Paddy's flesh is grass ! And I'm only sorra I didn't kill 
 more uv 'em !" 
 
 " Thee has been much with the Indians," said Mary, 
 "and thee ought to know what that noise means." 
 
 " That," said Paddy, listening to the yells down the val- 
 ley in the direction of Mrs. Van Wiggens's inn, " is the 
 murthering-halloo ; and they'll be back agin for our 
 sculps ! so, Mrs. Schooley, if ye'll take an ould Indian- 
 fighter's advice, you'll get Mr. Schooley's money and be 
 off to the bushes widout losing a minute. I'll pilot ye 
 through the woods to the Moravian church " 
 
 "'No, thee shall do no such thing," said Thomas. "If 
 the episcopal mummery of those people can save them, the 
 higher spirits within our own bosoms must suffice for us, as 
 they have already rescued us once." 
 
 " Divil the fear they have of ony sperits ! It waa 
 Paddy's arm that made 'em run." 
 
 "Patrick, thee forgets thyself!" said Mr. Schooley, 
 .levertheless hastening to save his money ; and, when it was 
 obtained, they set out toward the block-house. 
 
 The Indian accidentally killed by Rose was buried with 
 great care by his comrades, so that his body might not be 
 
292 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 found and the scalp torn from his head. The greensward, 
 after being cut smoothly round, -was lifted aside, and re- 
 placed when the body was deposited in the earth, so that 
 no one could have discovered the grave. Nevertheless, the 
 slain savage did not appear to be a man of much import- 
 ance among his fellows, for their mirth and laughter, when 
 they recounted the events at Mr. Schooley's house, seemed 
 very hearty. However, they made no unnecessary delay 
 in their progress, and the next place they visited was Mrs. 
 Van Wiggens's establishment. They appeared first before 
 the blacksmith's shop. There was a Mr. Van Etten (and 
 Mrs. Van Wiggens seemed to have a partiality for Dutch- 
 men) employed to shoe horses and mend ploughs during 
 Van Wiggens's absence ; and this man saw the Indians 
 when approaching, guided by the sound of the negro's 
 hammer on the anvil. 
 
 "Indians! Stop dat hlaw-mock," (belloAvs,) said he, 
 hurriedly, addressing the negro. " Dey von't hurt you, 
 Sambo ; tarn it, you stay here, viles I climb up de 
 chimbley." 
 
 The negro, terror-stricken, seemed incapable of disobe- 
 dience. The Indians came in and gazed round. They 
 looked under the bench and behind the bellows, but did not 
 see the one they were in quest of. Van Etten had been a 
 famous Indian-fighter in the former Avar, and was well 
 known to them. 
 
 " Where Van Etten ?" demanded the leader, seizing the 
 negro by the shoulder. 
 
 "Gone!" said Sambo, recollecting his orders; "dar's no 
 sich man here; he's gone, I tell you, and dat's 'ficient." 
 
 The Indians, amused at the negro's manner, entertained 
 themselves with an examination of the tools in the shop, 
 retaining such as they might have use for. One of them, 
 in imitation of the smith, thrust a bar of iron into the fire, 
 and, seizing the handle of the bellows, blew vigorously. 
 The negro, hearing Van Etten sneeze, slapped the Indian 
 on the arm, and said, as his master had done a few minutes 
 before, " Stop dat hlaiv-mock !" 
 
 The Indians, diverted at his seeming unconsciousness of 
 danger, desisted from further annoyance, and, leavhjg him 
 in the shop, directed their steps toward the house. The 
 leader, aware there were no men within, entered first, and 
 
SECOND SERIES. 293 
 
 Beeing in tlie small bar bottles of apple-brandy and Ja- 
 maica rum, could not resist his inclination to take a dram. 
 It Avas Avlicn the bottle was at his mouth that INlrs, Van 
 Wiggens entered from the dining-room. Supposing the 
 brawny savage to be her lawfully-wedded husband, re- 
 turned from the war, she said nothing ; but, seizing the 
 broom, and approaching on tiptoe, aimed a blow at his head 
 with the straw end of it. The Indian, astonished, and 
 slightly stunned, let the bottle fall, and then, gazing regret- 
 fully a moment at the wasted fluid inundating the floor, fell 
 into a violent passion. 
 
 " Dern !" exclaimed he. *'Me — you be dern ! White 
 squaw ! Dern me you !" 
 
 " How dare you swear at me, Van Wiggens?" cried Mrs. 
 Van Wiggens. 
 
 "Van Wiggens be dern!" cried the Indian. " Me have 
 white squaw's scalp !" he continued, drawing forth his 
 tomahawk. 
 
 But Mrs. Van Wiggens, perceiving her mistake, turned 
 the other end of the broom handle, which was of hickory, 
 and dealt him a blow on the head that brought him to his 
 knees, and the tomahawk ftilling from his grasp, she picked 
 it up. But he arose and rushed forth before she could use 
 it. She followed him to the door, however, and hurled the 
 instrument harmlessly after him. 
 
 The Indians laughed heartily to see their leader flying 
 from a squaw ; and that little incident induced them to spare 
 the lives of the negro and his mistress, or at least to post- 
 pone the operation of taking their scalps, and to pursue 
 the trail of the young girls without further delay. 
 
 26» 
 
294 WILD WESTERN SCENES; 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 JULIA AND KATE TAKE REFUGE WITH THE EXILE — THK 
 
 CAPTIVES — Moody's last incursion — the Quaker's 
 
 MONEY — paddy's CONVERSION. 
 
 " See the poor fawn !" said Julia, pointing to a bleeding 
 young deer that lay in their path. 
 
 " Poor creature !" said Kate ; "some cruel man has done 
 this merely to test his skill !" 
 
 " It's fat," said Richard, feeling the ribs of the dying 
 animal. 
 
 "And would you be so cruel as to eat the pretty thing?" 
 asked Kate. 
 
 " It is better than a pig, and I'm very fond of them. 
 Thee would like it, I'm sure." 
 
 "Never ! I would not taste the flesh of that poor " 
 
 " Richard," said Julia, gazing at the arrow which pierced 
 the fawn, " leave it ! Do you not see it is wounded by an 
 arrow ? It may not have run a mile since the shaft was 
 winged at its side, and its bloody trail may be followed by 
 the Indian that wounded it !" 
 
 Neither Kate nor Richard had thought of that ; and, 
 abandoning the fawn, the party lost no time in reaching 
 Tower Rock — the name bestowed on the abode of the aged 
 exile. 
 
 Richard, declining the invitation to tarry, bade the girls, 
 and particularly Julia, a doleful farewell. And Kate, when 
 she extended her hand in parting, archly imitated the de- 
 sponding gestures of the sighing lover. Richard departed 
 bewildered and bewitched; for the girls, when mischievously 
 inclined, certainly do possess the power of enchanting inex- 
 perienced swains. 
 
 Poor Richard, ruminating as he retraced the solitary 
 path, sad and deserted, since the tiny feet of the dear 
 charmers had abandoned it, forgot the dying fawn and all 
 other shafts but Cupid's. 
 
 Thus enraptured, he paused in the densest part of the 
 
SECOND SERIES. 20/5 
 
 forest before a large beech-tree, on the rind of which ho 
 distinguished something among the many marks that re- 
 sembled a J. Supposing it might be the initial of his lady- 
 love, he stepped forward and kissed it. It had been meant, 
 however, for a horseshoe, to indicate that some one, pro- 
 bably an Indian, had gone in a certain direction on horse- 
 back. And feeling, for the first time in his life, quite 
 poetical, he drew forth his knife and carved some verses 
 on the tree. 
 
 After finishing the inscription, and when turning mourn 
 fully away, he was confronted by the leader of the Senecas. 
 
 "How do?" said the Indian, advancing, and laying his 
 hand on the shoulder of the astonished youth. 
 
 " Thee knows my father " began Richard. 
 
 "No. Don't know him ! What's that ?" he demanded, 
 pointing at the inscription. It was a famous writing or 
 picture tree, which had been used by the savages for many 
 generations. They could interpret the marks made by 
 themselves, but those cut by Richard were wholly unintel- 
 ligible. 
 
 " Thee cannot understand it," said Richard. 
 
 " Read — say !" continued the Indian. 
 
 Richard obeyed. 
 
 "Julia! Antelope!" said the Indian. "He love!" 
 Then, uttering something aloud in his own language, the 
 rest of the savages rose up from the tangled bushes, or 
 emerged from behind the trees, and came forward laugh- 
 ing heartily at the interpretation of the inscription given 
 by their leader. 
 
 "Thee knows my secret noAv," said Richard; "and thee 
 will not take her away again." 
 
 " x^ntelope must go ! Queen Esther calls her." 
 
 " I tell thee no. She shall not go." 
 
 " She nice squaw. Make me wife." 
 
 "Thee a wife!" said the indignant Richard. "If thee 
 harms her, or takes her away again. Sir William Howe 
 shall be informed of it, and he will have thee scourged." 
 
 The Indian sneered at the threat; still, he could not for- 
 get that Sir William was the King's great General. But 
 he was far away, and dead men could tell no tales. And 
 yet he felt some hesitation in putting to death those who 
 professed loyalty to the King, luul moreover the pro- 
 
296 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 verbially peaceful Quakers. Nevertheless, as he paused in 
 doubt, his anxiety to procure scalps — for which the Indians 
 received a certain price from the British — almost induced 
 him to sink his tomahawk into the unoffending head of his 
 sighing captive. But, recollecting the enterprise was to he 
 mainly under the direction of Bonnel Moody, who, with 
 his band of Tories, had appointed the beech-tree as the 
 place of meeting, he reluctantly desisted. Richard's hands 
 were bound behind him, and he had no assurance of escap- 
 ing death at the stake. 
 
 A rustling was heard in the vicinity, and soon after 
 voices were distinguished. The Indians concealed them 
 selves, commanding Richard to be silent. 
 
 The stragglers drew near, following the narrow path. 
 
 "Thee must be lost, Patrick !" said Mr. Schooley, weary, 
 and with torn garments, supporting his wife. 
 
 "Be mesowl, I shouldn't wondher !" said Paddy, lead- 
 ing the way, and now in full view of the hidden In- 
 dians. 
 
 " Thee don't know it, though," said Mary. " Thee has 
 been to the fort twice, and thee should have learned the 
 way better. I pray thee, Thomas, let me rest a few 
 minutes on this fallen tree." 
 
 " Thee shall be gratified, Mary. Patrick," he continued, 
 when Mrs. Schooley paused, " thee said thee was quite sure 
 the path we started in was the right one." 
 
 " Yis, yer honour, I'll be sworn we started right." 
 
 "Swear not at all," said Mary. "Thee knows it is 
 wrong." 
 
 " Yis, ma'am. But I could take me oath I thought it 
 the right one." 
 
 " I hope thee was not mistaken, and that we may be still 
 in the proper path," said Thomas. 
 
 "And we may soon be there," said Mary. "Lead on; 
 I can walk a little farther." 
 
 " It's no use !" said Paddy. " I know we're lost, yer 
 honour. I know it by the queer fayling I have in me 
 head. And, be that same token, we shall be saised by the 
 blackguard sivages." 
 
 "Thee had best be silent, Patrick," said Mr. Schooley, 
 
 " I will, yer honour. But, as I was remarking a while 
 ago, if the "^Indians should saise us, I hope it will be no 
 
SECOND SEKIES. 297 
 
 harm for me to pass for a Quaker, if it be the manes of 
 saving me life.' 
 
 "Use no deception, Patrick," said Mrs. Schooley, "even 
 for the sake oi saving thy life." 
 
 "But, thin, yer honour," continued Paddy, appealing to 
 Mr. Schooley, " I'm about to be in arnest. If it will save 
 me life, divil take me if Paddy himself don't be as thrue 
 and sinsare a Quaker as iver drew the breath of life." 
 
 " Thee can neither deceive us nor God," said Mrs. 
 Schooley. 
 
 " Desaving, is it ? I wud scorn to desave onybody hut 
 a blackguard savage, and I hope there'd be no harm in 
 that. But I'll go to yer matings, wear yer coats, and 
 spake in thaas and thous, and be as vartuous as ony saint, 
 if it'll kape the sculp on the top o' me crown." 
 
 " Thee has yet to learn that our religion is not meant to 
 save our lives, but our souls," said Mr. Schooley. 
 
 " And is that same the thruth ? Och ! I thought you 
 wuddn't fight for fear o' gitting kilt ! But — murther ! 
 I saa an Indian! Remimber, I'm a Quaker, onyhow !" 
 
 The Seneca chief, rising up, advanced toward them, fol- 
 lowed by the rest, who surrounded the weary fugitives. 
 They made no resistance. 
 
 " Thee is the same person we saw this morning," said 
 Thomas, gazing at the chief. 
 
 "Oh, father!" said Richard, stumbling forward, "is it 
 thee and my mother I behold ?" 
 
 "Yea, verily, Ptichard !" said Mrs. Schooley. "And 
 why didst thou wander so far away from thy home and 
 leave thy parents to shift for themselves ?" 
 
 " So far, mother ? It is not far. This is the path lead- 
 mcr from our house to the Tower Rock. Thee is now 
 almost in sight of thy home. 
 
 " Verily it is true !" said Thomas. " I know that tree. 
 It is on my land. Thee has been leading us a strange 
 wild-goose chase, Patrick " 
 
 " Plase yer honour," said Paddy, " don't use me name in 
 this company. Thee knows I have been lading meself as 
 well as thee in the wrong way. Yea, verily ! Heigh-ho ! 
 And you, Misther Indian, tell me thy first name, and 1 
 will call thee afther the manner of our paceable paple, who 
 fear God and honour the King, and " 
 
298 WILD WESTERN SCENES : 
 
 " Cease ! cease thy silly jargon, Patrick!" 
 
 " Plase yer honour, don't call me Patrick," whispered 
 Paddy, " because the natives hate the Irish worse than the 
 divil !" 
 
 "But, Richard," said his mother, "why have they bound 
 thee?" 
 
 " Thee sees I am their prisoner, and will bear witness 
 against them." 
 
 The chief uttered some commands to his followers, when 
 Mr. and Mrs. Schooley, and the quaking Paddy, were all 
 seized and bound. 
 
 " Divil a bit more will I be a Quaker," said Paddy, 
 " for they saize thim as well as other folks ! And 
 now " 
 
 " Peace, Patrick," said Thomas, "and learn resignation 
 from us. They have bound and plundered us, and yet we 
 do not complain. "We are sustained by a supporting prin- 
 ciple within, and thee " 
 
 " Och, now, Misther Schooley, none of yer praiching to 
 me. It's too late. They know me ; for one of 'em was in 
 the battle on the Scioto, and at the fort, and he can't forgit 
 Paddy. It won't do to stay here. I must escape. They 
 won't hurt you, when all yer money's gone. But whiles 
 they're dividing yer goold I'll git oflF." 
 
 They were truly at that moment in a dispute about the 
 treasure. The sum found on Thomas and Mary was un- 
 e.xpectedly large, and it had been the weight of the money 
 which produced the exhaustion of the latter. 
 
 Paddy, therefore, bursting asunder the cords, slipped 
 away unobserved. 
 
 " Be jabers, I'm fraa agin !" said he, pausing and lis- 
 tening, after creeping some distance and finding himself 
 not pursued. " And I mane to stay fraa. Divil take the 
 Quakers ! I thought the blackguards wuddn't handle the 
 nasty craters ! But they've bound 'em like pigs for a fair. 
 The blissed Catholic religion is the best afther all, both for 
 this world and the nixt! When I confess agin, I'll pro- 
 mise niver, niver to desart the pope !" And Paddy fell 
 down on his knees and repeated a prayer. " Och, mur- 
 ther !" cried he, springing up again. "And I've been 
 knaling beside a big rattlesnake ! Jist hear what a fuss 
 he makes ! And there he is, kyled up, wid his brad and 
 
SECOND SERIES. 299 
 
 tail in the midille o' him. I'll kill the divil ! No!" he 
 continued, pausing, with a stone suspended in the air ; 
 "it may be the divil himself", come agin in the form of a 
 Barpent. And kin Paddy kill the divil ? Divil the bit ! 
 Tiie praist'll say he was afther me for larning Quaker. 
 Och, howly Saint Pater, forgive me ! Good-by, Misthcr 
 Divil, I'll lave ye, and I hope your nasty riverence won't 
 follow afther me. I don't desire yer company, and I'm 
 Bure ye'll have yer hands full o' the Quakers." 
 
 So Paddy left the huge rattlesnake, which, as is some- 
 times the case, neither advanced nor retreated from the 
 ground it occupied. But the fugitive had become confused, 
 and knew not whether to direct his steps, and trembled lest 
 he should again fall into the hands of the Indians. He 
 recollected with regret and dismay the many tales he had 
 told of the terrible slaughter he had made in the numerous 
 battles he had fought, and was frightened at the conviction 
 that his fame had spread throughout the wilderness, like 
 that of Boone and Kenton and McSwine. 
 
 Meantime the contention over the treasure rose to such 
 a pitch that knives were unsheathed, tomahawks brandished, 
 and no doubt the disputants would have proceeded to blows, 
 (such being the evil consequence of a lust for wealth,) had 
 not Moody and his band of Tories arrived upon the ground 
 in time to prevent the catastrophe. 
 
 The Tories being more numerous than the Indians, and 
 the latter having been directed by Queen Esther to obey 
 the commands of the royalist. Moody cut short the dispu- 
 tation by seizing the money himself, promising, however, 
 to make an equitable division at his cave. 
 
 "And now, friend Schooley," continued Moody, "why 
 are your hands tied in that manner ? Did Murphy's men 
 do it?" 
 
 " Thee knows, Bonnel, that Timothy is away with his 
 company, or else thee would not be here. It was tliy 
 men — these Indians, Bonnel ! And thee need not pretend 
 to be ignorant of it. Thee knows it is my money in thy 
 leathern bag. Ah, Bonnel, Bonnel ! This is the pro- 
 tection of (jieorge's friends by his officers! Thee knows 
 very Avell we are loyal to the King." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Mr. Schooley," said Moody, in 
 tones of pretended eain.stncss. "But you shall see that 
 
S'JO wild western scenes : 
 
 I am not to blame. It is necessary for me to act thus. 1 
 intended to be here before the Indians, and then these 
 things would not have occurred. But now, if I were to 
 give you back the money, the savages would leave me, and 
 perhaps murder you." 
 
 " Thee knows how to plead for money, Bonnel," said 
 Mrs. Schooley. 
 
 " But you shall lose nothing, madam," replied Moody. 
 " Every penny shall be paid back. We will go at once to 
 your house — if they did not burn it — and I hope they 
 didn't " 
 
 "No, they did not," said Mr. Schooley; "but thee 
 knows the burning would not be so great a loss to me as 
 the taking of m}'^ money." 
 
 "I'll convince you of my friendship," said Moody, cut- 
 ting the cords that bound the captives. " These are our 
 friends," he continued, winking to the Indian chief, who 
 had only executed the Tory-robber's orders. " We will 
 conduct them back to their home, and dine with them, as 
 a token of our penitence for the mistake." 
 
 " If thee would convince us of that," said Thomas, 
 "thee had better give me th« money." 
 
 " That is filthy lucre, Thomas, and its restitution might 
 cause a quarrel, and perhaps bloodshed, among the King's 
 friends. No ! You Avould not have such sins committed 
 for the sake of the dross ! But you shall lose nothing. I 
 will give you a receipt for the whole sum, which will be the 
 same thing as an order on the King's treasury, when peace 
 is restored." 
 
 " Thee has the power, and thee can act as thee pleases," 
 said Thomas ; " and thee can include the value of my negro 
 woman, which was two hundred pounds." 
 
 "I will! And it shall be taken out of the pay of the 
 Indians. They should have known better ! And I'll add 
 twenty pounds, friend Thomas, for our dinner, and we'll 
 call it forage." 
 
 " Bonnel, thee knows my loyalty, and I do not doubt that 
 George's armies will resubjugate this rebellious people. 
 Nevertheless, thee would please me better by giving me 
 back my money and withholding thy order." 
 
 "It is impracticable, sir," said Moody, "and I am sorry 
 for it. Cuuiu on; yc-u are now free, and the Indians will 
 
SECOND SEKIES. 301 
 
 do you no further injury unless you insist too much on 
 hjivinij back the gohl." 
 
 "And, be the powers," said Paddy, stepping forward, 
 having wandered back in his endeavours to get away, " I 
 am included in the same party ! I'm one of 'em, Misthei 
 Mody, and I'm thruly glad we have fallen into the hands 
 of sich a liberal and gincrous gintleman." 
 
 Paddy's return produced no particular commotion, since 
 his absence had not been observed. One of the Indians, 
 however, seeing his hands were loose, seized him by the 
 hair, and called upon his comrades to bind him again, say- 
 ing, in his own language, that Paddy was a furious warrior 
 and had killed a great number of their people. But this, 
 when interpreted by Moody, was flatly denied by Paddy. 
 He said his boasting was all gammon, and that he had 
 never hurt the hair of an Indian's head ; and Thomas 
 demanded his release as one of his household. 
 
 "And that's thrue, Misther Mody," said Paddy; "I'm 
 one of his family, if ye plase." 
 
 "You no son of Quaker," said the Seneca chief. "You 
 Irish — and Murphy Irish. We burn Murphy — we burn 
 Paddy." 
 
 " I beg yer pardon, sir !" said Paddy. " Tim Murphy's 
 a great fighter and has killed a dozen blag — Indians. 
 Tim's a brave warrior, and Paddy's a coward!" 
 
 Paddy had no sooner made this admission than the In- 
 dian struck him a blow on the head with the handle of his 
 tomahawk, which, although it produced no wound, felled 
 him to the ground. 
 
 "You are a fool, Paddy," said Moody, interfering and 
 preventing further punishment, " for confessing yourself a 
 coward. That is the greatest crime of which you could be 
 guilty."_ 
 
 "Divil take 'em!" said Paddy, rising. "There's no 
 plasing 'em ! But I'll do as you say. And I'd be ex- 
 tramely oblaged if ye'd let me go and wait upon the young 
 ladies, Avho are wishing for me at the Tower Rock." 
 
 " Tower Rock ! Yes, you shall go there with us, Paddy. 
 We will visit them to-night. They will know your voice, 
 and perhaps you can aid us in getting possession of the old 
 refugee. You shall share the reward and have a portion 
 of his treasuie . I suppose, Paddy, since you aro cue of 
 
 26 
 
302 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 Mr. Schooley's family, we can rely upon your loyalty. If 
 you are a Whig, say so, and we'll have your scalp on the 
 same string with the negro woman's, and save the hind- 
 quarter of a pig at dinner." 
 
 " Say so ? And wud ye have me tell a lie, Misther 
 Mody? I was born under the reign of King George, of 
 glorious mimory ! Misther Mody, if iver I live to git back 
 to ould Ireland, the king shall hear from Paddy's lips what 
 a thrue and valuable subjict he had in the wild wuds of the 
 Jenny Jump Mountain ! You are fit to be a gineral, Mis- 
 ther Mody, and his Majesty couldn't do a betther dade 
 than to make ye a knight, and bestow on ye a noble ances- 
 try. Try me, Misther Mody, and saa if Paddy don't drive 
 the ould gray rat into yor hands. And as for the reward, 
 Paddy has not the maneness of sowl to desire a pinny of 
 it ! No, Misther Mody, it shall be all yer own." And, as 
 he cast up his eyes to impress Moody with an idea of his 
 sincerity, he beheld Skippie in the tree over his head, 
 winking and making mouths at him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE EXILE S STRONGHOLD — PADDY S DIPLOMATIC SKILL 
 
 THE ALARM — THE ENTRANCE — CONDUCT OF THE DOG. 
 
 When the girls entered the hut the aged exile cordially 
 greeted them, and, having the dark barrier removed in 
 readiness for their ingress, they passed at once into the 
 rock-bound chambers of the cliff. 
 
 '*My dear children," said the exile, "you are safe here. 
 They dinna ken the holes o' the old fox, but believe he ia 
 in league wi' the de'il. But they will come again in the 
 gloom of midnight, or when the shimmering stars are 
 still gemming the early morning. They suppose there is 
 treasure hidden here, and for that thej' would delve into the 
 infernal regions. I have treasure for my bonny laddie and 
 his love, but not for the instruments of the usurper." 
 
 He then exhibited to the admiring girls several rich pre- 
 Bents from Charles Edward and other Scuttish monarciis to 
 
SECOND SERIES. 303 
 
 himself and his ancestors, and entertained them with re« 
 citals of the deeds which had been commemorated by the 
 gifts. 
 
 But the glittering stones were but as pretty toys in com- 
 parison with the indestructible products of mind ; and 
 cnief among these, and ever to be unrivalled, was the im- 
 mortal Shakspeare. " The artist and the lapidary might 
 fashion a gem produced by nature," said he, "but the great 
 poet was a creator of worlds in which one might live and 
 breathe unconscious of the ills that flesh is heir to." 
 
 Thus for several hours were Kate and Julia entertained, 
 when they were interrupted by the creaking of the massy 
 door communicating with the hut. It was Skippie, who 
 had come to inform his chief of the arrival of several of 
 the clansmen from the mountain, (being all that remained,) 
 and who, in accordance with the chief's directions, were 
 then concealed among the brambles on the summit of the 
 cliff, armed only with bows and arrows and spears, being 
 too weak in number to make any open resistance to the 
 assaults of Moody's party. He likewise informed his chief 
 of the scene he had witnessed under the tree, and repeated 
 to the girls (for he could speak when commanded by 
 Lochiel) the verses inscribed on the beech's rind. 
 
 Skippie was commanded to admit Paddy when he arrived, 
 and afterward to go in quest of Charles. 
 
 When the moon had dipped beneath the western horizon, 
 and the silent scene was wrapped in the solemn gloom of 
 darkness, the approach of Moody and his gang was an- 
 nounced by the loud and shrill whistle of Skippie, who lay 
 concealed on the margin of the stream that meandered by 
 the base of the precipitous cliff. As he anticipated, the signal 
 was heard by the hostile party, which immediately halted. 
 
 "They have been informed of our approach," said 
 Moody "That is their signal. I have heard it before, 
 and every time we were foiled. It must not be so now. 
 They cannot have a large force, unless the old wizard has 
 the power of calling infernal spirits to his aid. Go, Paddy, 
 and deliver this paper to the old man. If he is not a fool 
 be will grant the demand, and save at least the lives of his 
 defenders and the two maidens with him, as well as his 
 own. You may say I have the positive assurance of an 
 officer of high rank that if he surrenders himself into my 
 
804 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 hands, although they cannot withhold the reward from me, 
 there is not the slightest probability of his execution. Go, 
 Paddy, and bring me his reply to the summons. And be- 
 ware that you do not deceive us ! We are at least ten to 
 one, and there could be no escape for you. And you may 
 say that Brandt himself, with five hundred warriors, is by 
 this time sweeping down the W3"oming Valley. The garri- 
 sons are all surrendering. The tomahawk and the firebrand 
 are doing the work of extermination; and it is not probable 
 the old fox's son, or any of his company, will survive to 
 raise the siege, if we must be delayed awaiting the prize. 
 Tell him we believe — no^ say we have learned— that he has 
 a cave under the hut, into which he usually retires in times 
 of danger, but that it will not serve him now. If he 
 refuses to yield himself, we will dig him out ; and the more 
 labour and trouble he causes us, the greater will be the 
 exasperation of the Indians. Go ! And if you neglect 
 your duty, or fail to return within ten minutes, we will 
 commence the assault, and you will be burnt at the stake !" 
 
 "Murther! And if they won't let me come to ye, am I 
 still to be roasted alive wid the wooden spit stuck in me?" 
 
 " Yes, you, and every one with him." 
 
 " But they may kill me as I go till 'em, taking me for 
 an inemy !" 
 
 " Then you won't feel the fire. But you shall be roasted 
 for the wolves." 
 
 " Och, Mr. Mody, don't say that, if ye plase ! It makes 
 the cowld chills run up me back !" 
 
 " The flames will take them out again. No more words 
 — but go !" 
 
 Paddy started forward desperately, making a great noise 
 in the bushes. And when he was in sight of the hut he 
 began to call aloud, so that his voice might be recognised. 
 " Don't shoot!" cried he. " I'm Paddy, the Irishman, and 
 not an inemy. I'm only a flag of truce, that all the nations 
 howld sacred as the howly wafer ! I haven't the speck of 
 a gun; and sure ye wuddn't fire at an unarmed and defence- 
 less man who has been wid ye waah !" he screamed, as 
 
 he was seized by tlie lurking Skippie. 
 
 "Silence!" said Skippie, pulling him toward tlie hut. 
 
 "Ye may well say that, afther ye have taken m© 
 breath !" said Paddy. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 305 
 
 "Whisper!" said Skippie. 
 
 " I can't. Me mammy didn't tache me that. But I 
 kin run!" and he sprang forward with such activity that 
 he was soon sheltered within the hut, where he was sur- 
 prised to find no one to whom his message could be de- 
 livered. 
 
 "Where's the owld man?" he asked. "If he's gone, 
 I shall be kilt and roasted alive ! Skippie, dear, I forgive 
 all the pranks you've played me, and only beg you'd git me 
 out of the scrape I'm fallen into ! What shall I do?" 
 
 "Go in there !" said Skippie, pointing toward the fire. 
 
 "No ! — ye don't mane it ! Sure ye wuddn't see me burn 
 meself to save me life ! And the minutes are flying like 
 the sparks up the chimbley ! I had only a repraive of tin, 
 and half of 'em's gone a'ready !" 
 
 " Go in !" said Skippie, seizing the iron bar. " I'm in a 
 hurry," 
 
 " In the fire, is it ? Divil a bit ! If I'm to be burnt, I 
 shall wait till the time's up. And what're ye doing now ? 
 Tak care ! The back o' the wall's moving, and the house'll 
 tumble down. But that wuddn't save us, as they don't 
 mane to lave wan stone on anither ! Be me sowl, it's a 
 door! And there's a howl in the wall !" he continued, in 
 joyful amazement. " And if it lades to the divil himself, 
 I'll in !" And, leaping over the crackling billets, he entered 
 the opening, and the massy rock was pushed back by Skip- 
 pie, who uttered once more his shrill whistle as he plunged 
 into the woods. 
 
 The chamber Paddy was ushered into was illuminated 
 by a small lamp. He stood in the centre and gazed round 
 in utter astonishment. The aged exile and the girls were 
 silently observing him, themselves unseen. 
 
 " Be jabers, but this is a quare place ! And if Skippie 
 is the divil afther all, it's Paddy himself who is caged ! 
 I'm in it now ! But I'll sarve him fciithfuUy if there's 
 no worse punishment than to stay in sieh comfortable 
 quarthers. Be me sowl, I don't know whether I'm draming 
 or waking. Rouse up, Paddy, and open yer eyes ! Where 
 are ye, me boy? Be the howly St. Patrick, it's not a 
 drame, or I couldn't fale me ear when I pinch it ! And 
 is it his infarnal majesty who kapes sich nice apartments' 
 I wondher if he allows his paple to ate, too ? I sracli 
 
306 WILD WESTERN SCENES; 
 
 mate. And so they ate — and dhrink too, I hope — in the 
 nather ragions. But, Paddy, don't forgit the ten minutes ! 
 Time's up, by this time. And kin the blackguards come 
 here too ? It's meself who hopes not ! Wa-ah ! Oo-oh !" 
 cried he, starting back, as he perceived Julia and Kate 
 emerging from the dark passage. "And is it yer blissed 
 selves the divil's got ? And ye're smiling, too ! Or is it 
 fairies me eyes behowld ? Och, and wuddn't ye be kind 
 enough, gintle sperits, to tell me whether Paddy's raally 
 slaping or waking ?" 
 
 " Your eyes are open, Paddy," said Kate ; " but still 
 you may be dreaming." 
 
 " That's yer voice, I know. And so Paddy's alive, and 
 not roasting at the stake? And this is the rale house of 
 owld Misther Cameron ! It's a palace for a king ! And 
 there's his honour himself. Och, and I'll deliver me mes- 
 sage, onyhow !" 
 
 And he did so. The aged exile read the note and listened 
 to Paddy without stirring a muscle. 
 
 " Go," said he, "into the balcony, facing the stream, 
 where our foes are awaiting my answer, and say, with your 
 loudest voice, that the usurper's enemy, whom they seek, 
 will hold no converse with them, and defies them !" 
 
 "And it must be thrue that we are safe, or sure you 
 wuddn't bid me say sich a thing ? The saints be thanked ! 
 And Paddy's the boy that'll answer 'em. Plase, now, swate 
 darlints, show me the way to that same balcony, and go wid 
 me, or I might stumble and fall through." 
 
 "It is a solid floor, Paddy," said Julia, smiling. 
 
 "And it's yerself who considers us safe in this house?" 
 
 "Quite safe, Paddy; even if they were to discover the 
 entrance from the hut, one man with a brace of pistols 
 could defend the passage." 
 
 "And Paddy's as snug as a bug in a rug !" said he, half 
 singing and half dancing for joy. "And you don't think," 
 said he, " that if the blackguards were to burn the house, 
 1 mane the wudden hut, the hate would reach us here?" 
 
 " Oh, no doubt their hate would reach us anywhere ; but 
 we can defy their malice." 
 
 " I don't mane that, but the hot hate of the burning 
 tambers." 
 
 "No; they burnt the hut once, and no one suffered." 
 
PECONT) PERTES. 307 
 
 " Good ! Paddy's a fraa man a<]^in ! and as lively as an 
 aal. Now, plaso, lade me to tlie balcony, and jist listen aL 
 the brave missage I'll spake till 'em !" 
 
 julia and Kate led Paddy to a sort of masked balcony 
 ingeniously carved in the rock, where there had been a 
 fissure, overgrown with ivy and small cedars. 
 
 " Now, Misther Mody, where are ye ?" he cried, in a loud 
 voice. 
 
 *' Here ! What does he say, Paddy ?" responded Moody, 
 
 "He ses he won't disgrace himself by howlding any 
 conversation wid sich a set of blackguards as ye are." 
 
 "What? What's that?" 
 
 " He says ye may all pack off to the divil, and " 
 
 " Why, Paddy," said Julia, "he said no such thing !" 
 
 " I know it, Miss Julia. It is an imbillishment of me 
 own. 
 
 "And you use the devil for an embellishment," said 
 Kate." 
 
 " Och, if the ladies turn agin me, poor Paddy must sur- 
 rinder !" 
 
 " If that's his answer, Paddy, you may come back," said 
 Moody. 
 
 " Many thanks to ye, Misther Mody. And could ye tell 
 me what time o' the day it is?" 
 
 " Day, Paddy?' observed Kate. 
 
 " Double day, miss, since tAvo suns are baming on me." 
 
 " There !" said Julia. " Whoever heard a more gallant 
 speech ?" 
 
 " What do you mean, Paddy ?" asked Moody, who, guided 
 by the voice of his messenger, seemed to have drawn nearef 
 to the cliff. 
 
 " What do I mane ?" 
 
 "Yes. I don't understand you. Come back, if my de- 
 mands be not complied with." 
 
 "But, Misther Mody, me time's up long ago, and I'm 
 not going back to be roasted alive. I'm comfortable here, 
 taking care o' the ladies, and I shan't lave 'em as long aa 
 they nade a protictor." 
 
 "That's very kind in you, Paddy," said Kate. "But, 
 bless me, they're firing at us !" 
 
 This was true. More than a score of guns were dis- 
 eharged at the hut and the clilF; and some of the balls, as 
 
^08 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 if attracted by Paddy's voice, bespattered the face of the 
 rock, sending dust and scales into his face, which stung him 
 smartly. 
 
 " Who're ye shooting at, ye nasty blackguards?" cried 
 Paidy. " Have ye no betther manners than to be pointing 
 yer falthy irons toward the young ladies?" 
 
 " Come in, Paddy!" said Julia. " Don't you hear their 
 feet approaching?" 
 
 " If you command it, I must obey," said Paddy, duck- 
 ing his head at the flash of another volley, and rejoining 
 the party in the large apartment, where the aged exile sat 
 in undisturbed composure. 
 
 "They'll niver find us here," said Paddy; "and if it 
 wasn't for the Tories the Indians wud soon lave us. They're 
 great cowards." 
 
 "Cowards, Paddy?" said Kate. 
 
 " Yis, indade — cowards. I'll tell ye how I put a whole 
 party to flight meself ; but I mustn't tell ye " 
 
 " What ? Do, Paddy, give us a narrative of your ad- 
 ventures to-day," said Julia. 
 
 " I must lave out the bloody part. "Yer sinsitive narves 
 couldn't stand it." 
 
 "Very well — go on. But, first, tell me whore Rose is." 
 
 " Rose ! Rose, is it ? Did ye say Rose, or Solo ?" 
 
 " Solo is asleep on his couch of leaves. He is safe. But 
 what has become of Rose?" 
 
 " I'll tell ye when I'm done. Forty of 'em came to the 
 house, and were afther sculping all they could lay hands 
 on, Misther and Misthress Schooley and " 
 
 " Mercy ! You don't mean " 
 
 "No, I don't mane to say ony sich thing. But they 
 intinled to kill 'em if I hadn't riscued 'em." 
 
 "And how did you accomplish that?" 
 
 "Ye saa, I was up in the loft of the waiving-room, 
 whin " 
 
 " Pray tell us how you happened to be there," said Kate. 
 
 " How ? How, is it ? But that's nayther here nor 
 there. It was the luckiest thing in the world. For they 
 brought in Misther and Misthress Schooley, after they had 
 tomahawked Dinah before me eyes as she was waiving " 
 
 " Oh, Paddy ! why did you permit them ?" 
 
 " Wait a moment, and ye slinll hear. It wasn't good 
 
PKCOXT) SETITKS. 809 
 
 policy to intevfare. If I had stopped 'err, tbey'd've kilt 
 the ould white folks. I waited in silence, looking down in 
 revinge. But when the tomahawks were lifted against the 
 vinerable heads of Misther and Misthress Schooley, 1 
 plunged down upon 'em, calling upon the saints to help 
 me ! I called so many, the yaller divils thought I had a 
 whole ragiment at me back. They ran oflF, and I say they 
 are a pack of cowards !" 
 
 " Now, Paddy, tell me about Rose." 
 
 " Could ye bear it ? And are ye prepared to hear the 
 worst ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! She would linger, to hunt some article of 
 clothing ! Poor Rose !" 
 
 " She killed an Indian as dead as a hammer !" 
 
 "Rose!" 
 
 " Her arm was as thick as a traa, and as strong as an 
 elephant's trunk. They threw a tomahawk at her, which 
 struck the bundle of clothes. They were spylt, but they 
 saved her. So she tuk up the hatchet and chapped one of 
 their heads in two." 
 
 " Paddy, is that so ?" 
 
 " I'll take me oath on it !" 
 
 " And so Rose was saved !' 
 
 " I hope so. But I don't saa how it could be, aither, 
 for she had no praist." 
 
 "Priest? Didn't you say she was saved?" 
 
 " From the tomahawk. But her clothes couldn't turn 
 the rifle-bullets. They shot her, and she's defunct." 
 
 " Oh, poor Rose !" 
 
 " She died widout a sthruggle, as Misthress Schooley in- 
 formed me ; and, as she didn't scrame, we may belave she 
 suffered no pain. Don't wape, Miss Julia. Consider what 
 you'd've done if it had been yerself, and be thankful it 
 was no worse." 
 
 " Oh, they are burning the house !" cried Kate, hearing 
 the roaring of flames and the yells of the assailants. 
 
 The aged recluse, awakened from his reverie, turned his 
 calm countenance toward the young ladies, and besought 
 them not to be alarmed. 
 
 "You can now comprehend," said he, smiling, * A'hy the 
 exile did not build a better house in the valley. It was 
 
810 WILD WESTERN SCENES! 
 
 quite good enough to burn, and it was foreseen tliat such 
 would be its fate." 
 
 "There!" cried Julia; "one of the Indians has been 
 killed by somebody, I heard the death-halloo !" 
 
 " Probably a shaft from one of my brave Scots posted 
 overhead. They cannot bear to see my poor house, worth- 
 less as it is, destroyed by my enemies." 
 
 " Mercy on us !" cried Kate ; " and what is that ?" 
 
 " Another familiar sound !" said Julia. " It is the awful 
 Bignal of blood !" 
 
 "It seems to me like the braying of an ass," said the 
 old man. 
 
 "And yer ears don't desave ye," said Paddy. "Wan 
 of Quane Asther's guards, who follers us from wan end of 
 creation to anither, rides on a jackass that brays like the 
 divil ivery time he smells blood. I hope the blackguard 
 the Scots have kilt is that same murthering Seneca wolf." 
 
 " And can they not mount to the summit of the cliff and 
 slay the poor Scots?" asked Kate. 
 
 "They might gain the summit," said Mr. Cameron, 
 " but it would then be deserted. My men have holes, like 
 foxes, to hide in." 
 
 "Be me faith!" cried Paddy, "but they'll find 'em ! 
 The Indians know how to hunt the foxes. They'll mount 
 up to the top of the house and come down on us. Thirty 
 to one ! And it was Paddy who forgot there was any top 
 to the Tower Rock !" 
 
 " Your alarm is needless," said the old man. " It is a 
 solid rock. Long before they can cut through my roof, 
 nearly two hundred feet in depth, my son will be here." 
 
 " Thrue, yer honour," said Paddy, reassured. "And 
 I'm sure I trust the walls are strong enough to support 
 such a roof as that." 
 
 Another fatal shaft from the summit was announced by 
 the furious yells and maledictions of the besiegers, and it 
 was succeeded by a general discharge of their pieces at the 
 precipitous face of the rock. The altitude from which 
 Paddy had spoken to Moody betrayed the locality of the 
 besieged, and the m^'stery of the means of escape from the 
 Bmouldering tenement was, in part, explained. It was 
 announced by Moody to his followers that the refugee had 
 retired into a cave whose entrance had hitherto escaped 
 
SECOND SERIES. 811 
 
 discovery ; but he doubted not they would soon find it, 
 when the rich treasure, so often dwelt upon in his speeclies, 
 and which had excited the cupidity of his company, wouhl 
 be divided among them. 
 
 Fortunately the mass of glowing embers deposited by 
 the consumed hut prevented an immediate approach to the 
 only place of ingress. Nor was it likely that the besiegers 
 would suspect an orifice had been cut in the solid base of 
 the cliff. They would rather look for an excavation under 
 the hut, supposing the diminutive habitation had been 
 erected over the mouth of the cave. And, impelled by 
 this idea, the greater portion of the Tories and Indians 
 were soon engaged in removing the smouldering rubbish 
 from the earth, but still failed to perceive the entrance at 
 the fireplace. The rest were dispersed in various direc- 
 tions, seeking the foe who winged the fatal shafts. 
 
 Another terrific yell announced some new event. Kare 
 and Julia clung tremblingly to the aged chief, while Paddy 
 turned pale and glanced toward the darkest recesses of 
 the room. 
 
 "Fear not, my children," said Lochiel ; "there is no 
 danger. There is but one avenue of approach, and that a 
 child might successfully defend. There are caves also en- 
 tering into these chambers, which I have recently opened. 
 But they are dark, and seemingly interminable. I have 
 explored them, and do not think they lead to the surface 
 anywhere." 
 
 "I saw the dark howls," said Paddy. "And we can 
 hide in 'em if they find us here." 
 
 "We must defend the passage," said the exile, "if they 
 discover the door. Listen ! 1 understand it now. Some 
 one has discovered whence the shafts of my faithful' Scots 
 are launched. Hark ! They are rushing up the valley to 
 attain the summit. But my eagles will have flown when 
 they reach their eyrie. There are innumerable crags, 
 moss-covered fissures, brainbles and cedars ; and my trusty 
 clansmen are familiar with the hiding-places. Be not 
 alarmed, dear lassies ; the old chief will answer for yc ir 
 safety. Go to your couch and rest in peace." 
 
 Julia and Kate, yielding to the desire of the aged chief, 
 retiied for the night. The old man, left alone, with pro- 
 found indifference to the maehinations of his foes, ojiened 
 
812 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 the volume before him, and d-\velt in rapture on the pages 
 of the inspired poet. 
 
 Paddy was endeavouring to sleep on a bed of rushes in 
 a corner near the aperture of one of the recently-opened 
 passages in the rock. Into this cave it was his deter- 
 mination to plunge if they should be surprised before 
 morning. 
 
 His recent fatigues and excitements soon caused him to 
 Buccumb to the approaches of slumber. But he made many 
 fitful starts and exclamations in his dreams. And once he 
 was roused upon feeling his cheek strangely fanned. He 
 lifted his head and gazed round ; and his heart palpitated 
 audibly when he beheld, a short distance from him, twc 
 luminous globes, the staring eyes of some frightful visitant. 
 He turned over and groped in a circle round the object of 
 his terror. But the eyes turned too, still fixed steadily on 
 him. 
 
 The aged chief continued to bend over the volume, 
 while the lamp flickered dimly, and Paddy crept noiselessly 
 to his side. 
 
 "Plase yer honour !" said Paddy. 
 
 " Weel !" said the chief, slowly lifting his head. 
 
 " Plase yer honour, look yonder ! It's the divil !" 
 
 " Ye kenna what it is, mon ! Why should the de'il come 
 hither ? Why should we fear him ? Gae to bed. That is 
 ane of my owls, hunting the mice. And if you see a lizard, 
 do not be alarmed, nor seek to injure it. Such creatures 
 are better companions than ungrateful men." 
 
 Paddy, reassured both by the words and looks of the 
 chief, returned to his couch. 
 
 W^ithout, a solitary Indian stood by the crystal stream 
 near the base of the cliff. He peered through the darkness 
 at the place whence Paddy's voice had proceeded, in height 
 some twenty feet, and, through entangled bush and creeper, 
 distinguished the rays of the lamp within as they shot 
 feebly upward in empty space. Lochiel was too thoughtful 
 to permit them to reach rock or tree so as to betray his 
 locality; but the Indian had perceived them in the atmo- 
 sphere. He stood with folded arms, gazing with direful 
 mtent. Near him, on the margin of the water and oppo- 
 site the cliff, was a tall hickory-sapling. The dusky sou 
 of the forest, when he removed his t-yes from the leafy 
 
SECOND SERIES. 313 
 
 aperture In the cliff, gazed steadfastly at the young tree. 
 After measuring its heijj;ht as well as possible in the obscu- 
 rity, he divested himself of his rattlin;^; beads, -vvampum, 
 and silver plates, and placed them beside his gun on the 
 ground. A strong buffalo thong, taken from his leathern 
 pouch, was wrapped loosely round his neck. He then 
 climbed the tree, as a sailor would a mast. There were no 
 branches near the ground, and his ascent was unimpeded 
 until he reached a height equal to that of the aperture in 
 the cliff. 
 
 After pausing a few moments and gazing fixedly at the 
 dimly-illuminated fissure, during which neither sound nor 
 motion could be distinguished within, he proceeded upward, 
 even when the stem of the sapling was no greater in 
 diameter than his arm, and swayed to and fro with his 
 weight. Keeping his back on the side next the cliff, he 
 continued to ascend, until, arching over the running stream, 
 the topmost bough of the tree rested against the face of the 
 cliff. The Indian made it fast to a point of rock which 
 projected over the vine-masked balcony, and then, softly 
 detaching himself, obtained a lodgment in the rift where 
 Paddy had been standing. Perfectly motionless, he 
 listened for many moments ; but, neither sound of voice nor 
 motion of feet being detected, he entered the chamber. 
 
 Guided by the light of the lamp, he approached the 
 table where the white-haired exile still lingered over the 
 entrancing pages of the poet. He gazed cautiously round, 
 and, perceiving no one else in the apartment, glided noise- 
 lessly toward the table, his glittering tomahawk brandished 
 in his hand. The old man, unconscious of his approach, 
 was smiling sweetly. This the savage perceived, and 
 paused. Why should he smile ? Was it an ambuscade he 
 had plunged into ? Certainly not ; for the Kacha Manito 
 and not man had made the hickory-tree. But might not 
 the exile be a magician or great prophet? Again he 
 paused. No ! If so, why seek security within the rock ? 
 
 Raising his tomahawk once more, the Indian stepped for- 
 ward and aimed the fatal blow ; but his arm was arrested 
 midway by the teeth of Solo, who had been lying in the 
 dark shadow of the protector of his mistress. The weapon 
 fell clanging upon the stone floor, lleleasing the arm, and 
 twice barking sharply, the faithful dog grappled the throat 
 
 27 
 
814 M'ILD WESTKRX PCnXK? : 
 
 of the Indian and bore him to the e;irtli, Tlie girla^ 
 awakened by the sound, sprang up, screaming hysterically, 
 for they believed the place to be in the possession of the 
 enemy. But, seeing no one near, they ran toward the lamp, 
 still flickering on the table in the adjoining apartment. 
 There they beheld the aged exile rising slowly from his 
 great chair, with a finger on the page, that the place might 
 not be lost. At his feet stood Solo over the prostrate In- 
 dian, who breathed with difl&culty under the pressure of ths 
 faithful animal's jaAVS. 
 
 "What is it? who is it?" exclaimed Julia. 
 
 *' Bless my life!" said the old man, "it is an Indian! 
 How did he find access?" 
 
 " It is, indeed !" said Julia, thrusting away the toma- 
 hawk with her foot, and ordering Solo to relax his hold. 
 " It is one of the terrible Queen Esther's guards — one of 
 my captors — and the chief who wounded Solo ! It is a 
 just retribution." 
 
 " The noble animal has saved my life, lassie," said the 
 old man, reluctantly withdrawing his finger from the page. 
 " It was not so much revenge for the injury he had sus- 
 tained, as the generous impulse to rescue me from death. 
 Noble dog ! Cherish him, Julia, my bonnie daughter !" 
 
 " Oh, I shall certainly do so !" said Julia, bending over 
 the Indian, whose breathing became easier under the re- 
 laxed pressure. " See hoAV bloody !" she continued. " I 
 would not have him die. He might recover. He is a 
 Mingo or Minisink chief." 
 
 "Do you surrender?" asked the aged chief. The In- 
 dian, still speechless, nevertheless comprehended the mean- 
 ing of his words, and lifted up his hands beseechingly. 
 
 "Where's the Irishman?" asked the old man. "Let 
 him bind his hands." 
 
 "Paddy! Where are you, Paddy?" cried Julia and 
 Kate, but no Paddy answered. They sought his couch, 
 and found his bed of rushes, but Paddy himself had van- 
 ished ; and so they returned to the old man and his ca])tive, 
 the latter being narrowly watched by Solo. 
 
 " Stand up," said Mr. Cameron, placing his foot against 
 the savage, "and tell me how you get into my house." 
 
 Th*» Indian was soon sufficiently recovered to give the 
 i\iformation demanded. He could speak enough English 
 
ilR. CAMERON AND TUE MINGO CUlEi.— P. 314. 
 
SECOND SERIES. 815 
 
 to make himself imperfectly understood, and his gestures 
 did the rest. The tree was remembered, but no one had 
 ever thought it could be made the means of gaining access 
 to the apartments ; and the old man smiled at the ingenuity 
 of the savage, and felt satisfied that his little fortress was 
 well enough guarded at all other points, and was not likely 
 to have many assailants from the quarter whence the In- 
 dian had found an entrance. 
 
 " Pronounce his doom, my bonnie lassies," said the aged 
 chief, drawing forth a pistol from beneath his chair. 
 
 "Oh, do not kill him!" exclaimed the girls. "He may 
 become a friend, if his life be spared." 
 
 " He has penetrated my secret. His eyes are even now 
 glancing at my little wealth scattered about the room " 
 
 " Still, it will be out of their power to reach us. They 
 will retire to their own country, and you will not be molested 
 again!" said Julia, pleading for the life of the captive. 
 
 " I have no pleasure in slaying my foes, my dear chil- 
 dren," said the old man, replacing the pistol. "Lead him 
 to the balcony, and tell him he is free." 
 
 Tlie savage understood him, and offered his hand in 
 token of gratitude. It was not refused by the exile, who, 
 a moment after, resumed his seat, and was once more bend- 
 ing over the volume. 
 
 Julia motioned the savage to retire toward the balcony, 
 while Kate and herself, preceded by Solo, followed his steps. 
 He cast a wistful glance at his tomahawk lying near the 
 feet of the exile, but did not stoop to pick it up, for the 
 teeth of his vanquisher were still visible. 
 
 The enfranchised Indian, by his looks and gestures, ex- 
 pressed to the young ladies the thanks his tongue could not 
 utter. And when he reached the aperture, through which 
 the early gleams of day were now struggling, he extended 
 his hand to each of them, and bade them a grateful adieu. 
 The next moment he had vanished, having descended the 
 tree without detaching its top from the rock. 
 
 Then it was, and just as Julia and Kate turned back to 
 geek their couch in the dim obscurity, that the face of 
 Paddy became visible. 
 
 "Who's that?" cried Kate. 
 
 "It is Paddy!" said Julia. "Where have you been? 
 ^hy are you so pale?" 
 
316 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 " Pale, is it ? It's rage — it's hate — I'm furious, because 
 you lit him go. I wud'ye sculped the blackguard !" 
 
 "Why were you not presen";, Paddy, when we were de- 
 ciding his fate ?" 
 
 " Och, and if I wasn't there, I couldn't help it. It was 
 no fault of mine, Miss Julia. I sprung up when the dog 
 barked, thinking the whole gang was on us. I was half 
 aslape, and couldn't saa objects distinctly; and so I got 
 into the dark hole, where I couldn't behowld me hand be- 
 fore me eyes. There I stood with me knife and gun, think- 
 ing tlie savages had got in that way, and detarmined to 
 defind the passage to the last dhrop of me blood. And 
 this explanation, I hope, ye will repate for me to the owld 
 chafe." 
 
 And, saying this, Paddy likewise returned to his couch. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 DESPERATE ATTEMPT THE PANTHER AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 The rising of the sun, its crimson rays streaming over 
 the misty summits of the mountains, was the signal for a 
 renewal of the fierce shouts of the implacable enemy. 
 
 A portion of the besiegers had ascended to the summit 
 of the cliff. But the small band of defenders posted there 
 the preceding day had vanished. Yet Moody congratu- 
 lated himself upon the occupancy of positions which were 
 calculated to effect his diabolical purpose. The besieged 
 could not escape without falling into his hands, nor could 
 succour reach them without first entering his ambuscade. 
 
 The aged chief, unmindful of the machinations of his foes, 
 again entertained the maidens with anecdotes of Charlea 
 Edward after the disaster at Culloden, and described par- 
 ticularly the conduct of Flora Macdonald, exhibiting her 
 miniature executed in Paris; and the admiration of the 
 girls was not diminished by the assurance that Flora, like 
 Lcchiel himself, was at that moment sojourning in America. 
 
 But Paddy's views could not be confined within tho 
 narrow limits of his rock-bound habitation. And so he 
 
SECOND SERIES. 817 
 
 wandered to the balcony, and peeped out from behind the 
 ivy-vines and cedar-bushes. 
 
 A single glance sufficed to appal him. A dozen Tories 
 and Indians were grouped around the slender sapling, the 
 topmost bough of ^vhich still remained attached to the 
 point of jutting rock, bound by the strong cord of buffalo- 
 hide. 
 
 They stood in silent wonder or whispered consultation, 
 heedless of the dangerous proximity of the besieged. But 
 no shot had been fired at them in the night, and it was in- 
 ferred the old man had no arms, or was, like the Moravians 
 and Quakers, averse to shedding blood. It did not occur 
 to them that one of their own number (the Indian who had 
 ascended the tree being absent) had used the sapling to 
 gain access to the masked opening in the cliff, which, from 
 the location of Paddy in the night when declaring the de- 
 cision of the aged chief, they were now convinced commu- 
 nicated with the cave that contained the victims they had 
 doomed to destruction. 
 
 " Some one of their friends got in during the night," 
 said Moody. " And if a white man can enter, why can't 
 an Indian V 
 
 This was succeeded by "ughs!" of approbation, and 
 several of the Seneca s volunteered to make the attempt. 
 At that moment the Indian who had climbed the tree joined 
 them ; and, as he was a famous adventurer, and one of the 
 bravest men of the party. Moody was surprised to see him 
 sit down and muse in silence. 
 
 " Will you not go first?" he asked. 
 
 "No! Me no go!" was the abrupt response. And 
 Moody turned away, and bestowed his praises on the in- 
 trepid chief already ascending. 
 
 " Misther Cameron ! Misther Cameron !" cried Paddy, 
 rushing into the presence of the old man. 
 
 "Weel? Speak, mon." 
 
 " Plase yer honour, I want a gun or a pisthol. They're 
 standing down there by the strame, and in full view o' me, 
 and I want to give 'em a broadside from the balcony." 
 
 " Pooh ! And why ? Why would you shed their blude ? 
 Ane or twa moi-e or less will make na difference. Be mer- 
 ciful, mon, and save thy valour for the moment when fight- 
 ing is necessary. You shall not disturb them." 
 
 27* 
 
318 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 And, turning to the girls, the old man resumed his nar- 
 rative with perfect unconcern. But he had not proceeded 
 far before Paddy returned, pale and trembling. 
 
 " Misther Cameron ! They're coming ! They'll be here 
 in a minute ! They're climbing in at the winder ! We'll 
 be murthered !" 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, my children," said the old man, 
 rising. " The thong must be cut, and then they will 
 desist." 
 
 "Let Paddy do it!" said Julia. "Do not go yourself, 
 Bir !" 
 
 " Plase yer honour," said Paddy, quickly, " me knife's 
 too dull !" 
 
 " Take my dirk," said Mr. Cameron, offering the polished 
 blade. 
 
 " And plase let me have the loan of yer pisthol, for fear 
 wan of 'em may be in." 
 
 "And Solo shall accompany you," said Julia. 
 
 Paddy returned cautiously and reluctantly to the balcony, 
 accompanied by the girls and followed by Solo. The In- 
 dian had not reached the face of the cliff, but was within 
 a few feet of it, and making rapid progress in the perilous 
 ascent. By a spasmodic effort, Paddy, after giving the 
 pistol to Julia, succeeded in severing the cord. The elastic 
 sapling sprang back to its original position, and hurled the 
 adventurous climber some fifty feet into the brushwood, 
 through which he plunged with great force, crashing 
 among the boughs, and finally fell to the earth, amid 
 the shouts and laughter of the spectators. 
 
 The Indian, unhurt, but greatly exasperated, emerged 
 from the bushes, and threw his tomahawk in the direction 
 of the half-concealed aperture. 
 
 "Dodge!" cried Paddy, falling down on his knees, 
 while the girls, supposing a volley was about being fired at 
 them, involuntarily followed his example ; and the next in- 
 stant the tomahawk, glancing from the side of the orifice, 
 fell harmless at their feet. 
 
 Moody soon after announced to his followers that he had 
 conceived a plan by wdiich they could obtain an entrance. 
 And when he explained his scheme the whoops of the 
 bavages were almost deafening. They were seen running 
 (n different directions and gathering materials for the fabri- 
 
fRcnxp Pi-;?>TES. 319 
 
 cation of a rope of suflicicnt Icnjitli and strength to convey 
 che nifn from the summit of the clin" doAvn to the opcninfT 
 that had been discovered in its side. This was speedily 
 accomplished, for the Indians have nimble fingers; and 
 their exultant halloo, the meaning of which Julia perfectly 
 comprehended, burst upon the air and was reverberated in 
 the valleys. 
 
 The great cable, composed of hempen strings, hair, and 
 hiles, was tied to a rock on the apex of the cliff and within 
 a few feet of the edge of the precipice. Here the scene 
 was Avild in the extreme. A few cedars and thorns, dwarfed 
 in their growth for the want of soil, from exposure to the 
 chilling blasts of winter and the excessive heats of summer, 
 comprised the sparse vegetation of the spot, which seemed 
 a locality never designed for the presence of man, savage 
 or civilized. But now, like demons of mischief, the fell In- 
 dians and Tories, their faces bathed in the red rays of the 
 morning sun, flitted hither and thither on the dreary apex 
 of the summit, making the solitary place more hideous by 
 their whoops and grimaces. 
 
 The summit of the cliff jutted over its base, so that those 
 above, who were to lower their companions, could not see 
 the aperture. Therefore the party was divided, one half 
 remaining below, and the air was filled with their loudly- 
 shouted communications. 
 
 It was decided that the cable should reach down to the 
 stream below, to be ascended or descended, as might be the 
 most practicable and advantageous. 
 
 The first Indian who ventured over the precipice was 
 furiously assailed by an enormous eagle, having its nest 
 on one of the ledges or shelves inaccessible to all animals 
 not possessing wings or incapable of suspending themselves 
 in mid-air. The brave bird, seeing the dusky savage ap- 
 proaching its young, uttered a shrill scream and darted at 
 him, and the Indian's head-dress of feathers and tinsel was 
 scattered in fragments on the wind. Descending again 
 like a bolt from a thundercloud, the eagle ripped open with 
 his beak and talons the skin on the shaven crown of the 
 invader of his domestic precincts. A cry of pain startled 
 the spectators, and the next moment the suspended savage 
 relaxed his grasp and fell headlong into the shallow stream 
 beneath, upon whose bed of rocks his body was crushed 
 
220 WILD ^JTESTERN SCENES! 
 
 like the flattened ball of a rifle against a flint-stone ! A 
 cry of horror escaped the lips of Julia and Kate, who '.vit- 
 nessed the occurrence from the masked balcony, themselves 
 unseen. The friends of the unlucky Indian rushed foi-- 
 ward and dragged his mangled corpse from the water. 
 A broken shaft of an arrow floating down the current 
 attracted no attention, or was supposed to have belonged 
 to the unfortunate adventurer. His body was covered 
 with wounds, and no minute examination was instituted, as 
 the fall alone had been sufiicient to produce death. 
 
 A second Indian descended the cable, and, — although un- 
 touched by the eagle, which, however, did not cease to dart 
 at his head, in defiance of the shots fired at him, — like the 
 first, and precisely at the same place, uttered the death- 
 shriek, and fell upon the same rock at the bottom of the 
 shallow stream. 
 
 This time the shaft remained in the body, and a yell of 
 rage succeeded the discovery. But from whence had it 
 been fired ? They did not suppose it possible for the Scots 
 to go over the edge of the precipice and find a lodgment in 
 its face. Nor was it possible. But there were hidden paths 
 at the extremity of the clifl", leading along the shelves on 
 its front. With these the Scots were familiar ; and these 
 narrow paths were soon discovered by the Indians, burning 
 more furiously than ever for revenge. But it was a fearful 
 place, — a dizzy height, — netted over in some places by 
 creepers and stunted brambles, with ever and anon dwarf 
 cedars growing out of the fissures whose only soil was the 
 decomposed leaves blown thither. 
 
 A general search for the hidden foe ensued. All other 
 enterprises were suspended. Like trained bloodhounds, the 
 Indians sought and found the trail of the three or four 
 clansmen, sole defenders of the chief who had, in his native 
 land, commanded a thousand. 
 
 Shouts of demoniac joy announced the discovery. Two 
 or three of the boldest Indians precipitately followed it, 
 unheeding the advice of the more aged and experienced 
 warrioj's, who would have had a consultation upon the best 
 mode of dislodging the enemy. 
 
 On they rushed, leaping over rifts and holding by the 
 tenacious cedars, when their progress was suddenly arrested 
 by the ferocious growl of a panther, whose head protruded 
 
SECOTSTD SERIES. 321 
 
 from a small cave in the rock beside the path and but a 
 few paces before them !" 
 
 "Ughl ug^ •" each of the Indians uttered in turn, on 
 beholding the glaring eyes of the beast. The growl had 
 likewise been heard bj those below, watching the progress 
 of the young warriors. And when they beheld the head 
 of the animal thrust from the rock, they fired and wounded 
 him. He sprang forward with a cry of rage, and, seizing 
 the foremost of the Indians in the narrow path, they fell 
 together on the rocks beneath, both mangled and dead. 
 
 At this juncture a warwhoop was heard in a westerly 
 direction. Moody and the Senecas listened with suspended 
 breath for its repetition, not having immediately compre- 
 hended its import amid the confusion of sounds. They 
 knew not whether to look for friends or enemies. They 
 were aware that the remnant of the company of patriots 
 from that vicinity which might survive the slaughter in the 
 valleys of Pennsylvania would soon arrive to the succour 
 of the besieged. They had been assured, hoAvever, by 
 Queen Esther and Brandt and Walter Butler, that but few 
 of that little band would escape; and, whatever might be 
 the number of survivors, they would be quickly followed, 
 and perhaps preceded, by Brandt himself and the implaca- 
 ble Queen of the Senecas. 
 
 But the warwhoop was not repeated. Moody and his 
 men immediately posted themselves in the passes of the 
 intersecting valleys to defend the approaches to the cliff. 
 
 This was hardly accomplished, when the aged chieftain, 
 hastily closing the book from which he had been reading 
 aloud to his fair auditors, while Paddy slumbered in obli- 
 vious security, announced the approach of Charles. 
 
 " Thank heaven !" exclaimed Julia ; "but how have you 
 learned it?" 
 
 " My bonnie lassie kens not the meaning of the air 
 played on the horn by my brave clansman hidden in the 
 cliff. The young chief advances ! My boy survives, and 
 I shall once more clasp him in my arms !" 
 
 " Thank heaven !" repeated Julia. " But, sir, are we 
 not here surrounded by the enemy? And may he not fall 
 before our eyes ?" 
 
 " He will sw^eep them away like the mist of the morning! 
 Our cage will be opened, and my pretty birds will bask 
 
322 WILD "WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 again in their native air and flutter in the sunshine. 
 Listen !" continued the old man, leading the way to the 
 balcony. *' That is the Oolah of the Senecas ! Thej are 
 already flying before my victorious Charlie !" 
 
 It was true ; but they were retreating toward the cliff, 
 resolved to prevent any communication with it by a despe- 
 rate stand at the stream that swept round its base. 
 With their backs toward the besieged, and sheltered in 
 front by the embankment of the stream, the bushes and 
 trees, Moody and his party awaited the approach of the 
 rescuers. 
 
 "Be me sowl !" cried Paddy, gazing down at the backs 
 of the Tories and Indians, " it sames to me it would be a 
 bloody shame not to help our frinds who are going to fight 
 for us! Plase, sir," he continued, "let us open a masked 
 battery on 'em behint, and show 'em we have the courage 
 to fight." 
 
 "Oh, sir," said Julia, "let me unite with Paddy in be- 
 seeching you to render whatever assistance may be in your 
 power !" 
 
 " It shall be done, my lassie !" said the roused chief. 
 
 He then directed Paddy to bring forth some half a dozen 
 brace of pistols. These he charged with powder only, say- 
 ing it was not necessary to spill blood in repelling such a 
 foe. No shot having been fired from the cliff, the enemy 
 naturally supposed they were unprovided with weapons ; 
 and when the pistols should be discharged in quick succeS' 
 sion, the panic would be complete, for the inference that 
 succours had entered the garrison would be unavoidable. 
 But this must be done at the proper time, and he give the 
 signal. Soon, the close proxim.ity of the rescuers was 
 announced by a simultaneous discharge of rifles, both from 
 the embankment and from the trees and bushes on the level 
 space beyond. The floating clouds of smoke prevented the 
 spectators in the fissure from having more than fitful 
 glances of the conflict ; but the fire, once begun, was con- 
 tinued without intermission, accompanied by shouts and 
 yells and the death-shrieks of the fallen. The fiercest in- 
 tensity of the struggle fluctuated from right to left, as the 
 combatants strove to outflank each other. The awful 
 braying of the ass, still retained by the Senecas, announced 
 that b'luod was flowing ; and the continued barking of the 
 
SECOND SERIES. 323 
 
 little brown dog, ever and anon flitting in view, was proof 
 of Van Wiggcns being among the survivors. 
 
 "Now let us surprise them !" said the old man. "There 
 are four of us, and if we fire in quick succession they will 
 suppose there are eight guns in their rear. Besides, I see 
 my faithful men on the cliff are plying their arrows." 
 
 He was obeyed. And the demonstration was crowned 
 with complete success. Moody, appalled, was the first to 
 give way, and his Tories followed him. The Indians could 
 not maintain the conflict alone, and soon fled after them. 
 Crossing the shallow stream, and passing over the ruins of 
 the burnt hut, they. sought shelter in the ravine at the head 
 of the range of cliff's. Here they made another stand, 
 their rifles still partially commanding the position they had 
 relinquished, but not including within their range the 
 ground occupied by Charles. 
 
 Charles, convinced that his parent and Julia must be 
 looking down from the aperture, with the location of which 
 he was familiar, advanced into an open space, and waving 
 bis hat, was joyfully recognised by those Avhose prayers 
 were unceasingly uttered for his preservation. 
 
 He was joined soon after by Murphy, Van Wiggens, and 
 Peter Shaver, the latter leading the ass, which he had met 
 within the woods, and which it seemed was destined to be 
 ever crossing his path. 
 
 " Where's Hugh ?" asked the old chief, from the rift in 
 the rock. 
 
 " Fallen !" was the sad response. 
 
 The old man, pale and sorrowful, bowed his head upon 
 his breast. 
 
 " Tam dem !" cried Van Wiggens, as a fresh volley was 
 fired by the Indians, the only effect of which was a slight 
 wound in the ear of Watch, who uttered a sharp cry and 
 shook off the blood. 
 
 " Hide yourself, my son !" cried the old man, " or come 
 hither immediately ; else they will slay you before my eyes. 
 It is my little treasure and your life they seek !" 
 
 " I cannot abandon my brave men, father," said Charles. 
 "And the battle is not over yet. We have been followed 
 by Brandt and a few of his bravest warriors, urged on by 
 the bloodthirsty Esther ! She murdered my men who be 
 came their prisoners with her own wrinkled hands ! And 
 
324 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 Brandt, whom I loved and called my brother, seeks to slay 
 me, believing I killed his sister. Twice have I spared his 
 life, hoping to make him hear my denial, but I was disap- 
 pointed. When he listens to me, and believes me, as he 
 must, he will retire. I hear him now ! That is his terrible 
 warwhoop ! Spare him, my brave men ! Spare him, for 
 my sake, and for the sake of his poor murdered sister. 
 Let me speak with him, and we shall be reconciled." 
 
 When he ceased speaking, the junction of Brandt with 
 Moody and his Senecas was announced by the most deafen- 
 ing yells. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 MEETING OF THE FOREST BROTHERS. 
 
 The battle was renewed. The enemy poured down the 
 narrow ravine into the broader valley, led by Brandt, who 
 called aloud upon White Eagle to come forward and decide 
 the contest by single combat. 
 
 And when the Senecas, Mohawks, and Tories returned 
 to the cliff in such overwhelming numbers that Charles was 
 forced to retire over the stream under cover of the inter- 
 twining thicket, the old hag. Queen Esther, stood upon 
 the desolate apex of the knoll at the summit, waving to 
 and fro a staff she termed her sceptre, and mumbling one of 
 her incantations which had great influence over the super- 
 stitious minds of the savages. She had a book, in which 
 were kept the names of her victims. The number was 
 then two hundred and ninety-eight, and she declared the 
 White Eagle and his father would make an even three 
 hundred. 
 
 It was when Charles was retiring before the impetuous 
 charge of Brandt, that Julia, seized with inexpressible ter- 
 ror, swooned in the arms of Kate. She was borne to the 
 couch where she had slept during the night ; but restora- 
 tives administered by the old man soon revived her. 
 
 "I am not ill," said she, smiling faintly, though still as 
 pallid as iver. "It was a picture of the imagination, per- 
 
SECOND SERIES. 325 
 
 haps, which flitted athwart my vision. I thought I beheld 
 the bMeding form of Charles borne in the arms of Brandt, 
 who seemed to mourn rather than exult over his fall ! Oh, 
 it was terrible ! And why should such a scene rise before 
 me in the light of day and in my waking hours ? It may 
 be a premonition of the reality ! Oh, go, and assist him ! 
 He is borne down by superior numbers ! Go, Paddy, and 
 fight bravely, for my sake!" 
 
 "I will!" said Paddy, bustling about. "Bemesowl, 
 I'll kill ivery divil of 'em that comes within me range. 
 Give me all the pisthols ! Paddy'U show 'em fates of 
 valour this blissed day!" And, saying this, he withdrew, 
 but did not join the combatants. 
 
 Brandt led the way over the stream, being some twenty 
 paces in advance of his party ; and, although several of 
 them fell, victims of the deadly aim of the concealed rem- 
 nant of patriots, the great chief himself sustained no in- 
 jury. And Charles, although exposed more than any of 
 his party, likewise remained untouched. Brandt had or- 
 dered his men to spare him, not that his life might be 
 saved, but that he might be reserved for his own hand. 
 
 And soon they met face to face in a small opening in the 
 forest. Brandt was pursuing his intended victim, who, 
 perceiving it, had purposely separated himself from his 
 party. 
 
 " Three times have I spared my brother's life," said 
 Charles, lowering his rifle, and stepping boldly out from 
 behind a holly-tree. 
 
 " And you did so because you had already shed enough 
 of the blood of Thayendanegea !" was Brandt's reply, as 
 he paused abruptly, frowning fiercely, his tomahawk brand- 
 ished in his right hand. 
 
 " No, my brother, it was not so. It was because I de- 
 Bired to convince you that never a drop of my poor sister's 
 blood was shed by me." 
 
 "And can you do so ? Does the White Eagle say he did 
 not shed the blood of the Brown Thrush?" 
 
 " Listen, Thayendanegea. We were boys together. We 
 bathed in the same streams by sunlight and by moon- 
 light, or when naught but the feeble rays of the distant 
 stars twinkled upon us through the broad leaves of the 
 Bycamore. Then we clung to each other in confidence, and 
 
326 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 the Kaclia Manito smiled upon our affection. I hav3 not 
 changed." 
 
 " Not changed ! "We bathed in the limpid Wyalusing, 
 beside the wigwam of my people. The smoke J>f the coun- 
 cil-fire ascended the blue sky. The tassels of the corn bent 
 under the weight of the bees, whose hum filled all the air 
 with music. All was peace and happiness. Not changed ! 
 Who has made the home of my people desolate ? The 
 corn is trodden under foot, the wigwam is in ashes, and the 
 Wyalusing encrimsoned with blood ! And who wrought 
 this destruction ? Why, the army of Sullivan, sent thither 
 by the great village-burner, Washington, whom you serve ! 
 Not changed !" 
 
 " My brother cannot have forgotten who were the first 
 aggressors. But I speak not of war. I say my heart has 
 not changed !" 
 
 " But you have not said you did not slay my sister, — she 
 who loved you and sang by your couch when you slept." 
 
 " I do say it." 
 
 " White Eagle once was incapable of lying. If he had 
 not changed, I could not avoid believing him. But the 
 white man has the ingenuity to prove the guilty innocent 
 and the innocent guilty, — to make solemn oaths to dire 
 falsehoods, the word meaning one thing, the act another 
 False ! false ! Not changed !" 
 
 " No ; not changed. I make no solemn oath. I merely 
 tell thee that I am innocent of thy sister's blood. If I lie, 
 strike me dead, and send me with the falsehood on my 
 tongue before the Great Spirit who judges all things. 
 Strike ! There is my rifle on the ground. Thy brother 
 will make no resistance, nor shrink from the blew !" 
 
 " Oh, my brotlier !" exclaimed Thayendanegea, dashing 
 his tomahawk to the earth, " I see the truth in thy tears. 
 Let us clasp hands. Though separated, we shall be bro- 
 thers still. They made me believe thee guilty. And who 
 lied to me ? Esther ! she, more cruel than the Senecas, 
 and a pale-face ! Oh, my brother, she hath written thy 
 name in her roll of victims ! I may not save you. But this 
 hand shall be guiltless of my biother's blood, and I will do 
 4II in my power to shield you." 
 
 "And, Thayendanegea," said Charles, "I here declare 
 th^t, if I survive, my voice shall be heard in behalf of mji 
 
SECOND SERIES. 827 
 
 forest brothers and sisters. Go back to your people, my 
 broilier, — to the nations ^vhich ackiiowledge you as their 
 king, — and tell them they have been deceived. America 
 will be free. To Washington they must look for protection. 
 Tlie British armies will be beaten, and who then will bo 
 their friends?" 
 
 "Friends? And who are the friends of the Indians? — 
 thoso who pay them for the scalps of the enemy, or those 
 who take the land which the Great Spirit bestowed upon 
 them ?" 
 
 "You will be paid for the land." 
 
 " Paid ? And w'hen we must sell our inheritance against 
 our will, who is it that shall name the price ? Alas ! it must 
 be so. I see it. The Indian is doomed. But, in the land 
 of spirits, in the great hunting-grounds beyond the grave, 
 he will be at peace. Then those who despoiled him of his 
 fair country will rend each other. The lords of the forest 
 must give way to the corrupt hordes of civilized criminals. 
 They vanish like shadows into the land of spirits, to be 
 at peace forever. But behold their successors, religious, 
 virtuous, with written laws. See their destiny prefigured 
 in the more than savage cruelty of Esther, the white wo- 
 man. Yes, they will slay one another, — their religion a 
 source of incessant hatred and contention, their virtues 
 mocked at by scaffolds and prisons, and the law but the 
 sword of the majority wrought for the destruction of the 
 rest. Farewell, my brother. I will return to the last 
 abiding-place of the deer and the wolf." 
 
 "Hark! what sound was that?" exclaimed Charles, 
 turning his face toward the cliif, whose summit alone he 
 could see from his position, and where he beheld the frantic 
 gesticulations of the old fury — who likewise heard the 
 sound — summoning the Senecas around her. 
 
 "It is the drum and fife of the white man," said Brandt. 
 " They are coming to drive back the poor Indian from the 
 last of his beautiful valleys. They will hurl us hence as 
 the storm-wind rolls the foaming serf on the burning sands; 
 but they cannot restore the dead to life. And it was ne- 
 cessary to appease the Malcha ]Manito by offering a certain 
 number of victims. But enough has been done. I see a 
 white flag approaching, and I will assemble my followers 
 around me." 
 
328 " WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 He tten uttered the rallying-halloo, and commanded «i 
 cessation of hostilities ; and, that his hrother might not he 
 mistaken for a doomed prisoner, he laid his arm on his 
 shoulder, and they advanced together to the sparkling 
 stream, -where friend and foe were soon mingling in con- 
 scious security, and Chai'les was hailed with joy by the in- 
 mates of the excavated rock. 
 
 A company of Wayne's men had arrived from the glo- 
 rious field of Monmouth. The British had retired beaten 
 from the bloody plains of New Jersey, and detachments 
 were sent from the American army to repel the aggressions 
 of the Tories and Indians on the borders. 
 
 The first one recognised by Charles was the Rev. David 
 Jones, at whose solicitation the company from Wayne's 
 brigade had been marched in that direction. He was wel- 
 comed, likewise, by Julia, whose voice he heard and knew, 
 although he could scarcely see her through the clustering 
 foliage ; and the aged exile would not permit the girls to 
 join their friends below until the last of his treacherous 
 foes led by Moody should depart. 
 
 " What have you to propose ?" demanded Brandt, still 
 encircling the neck of Charles with his arm, as if he feared 
 the doomed victim of Esther might fall in his presence. 
 "What do you demand of us?" he continued, addressing 
 the captain of the company of Continentals. " You are 
 about fifty in number. We can count ninety." 
 
 " Including the Tories," observed the officer. 
 
 "No matter who is included, so they are well armed 
 and ready for action. I am Brandt, of whom you may 
 have heard much, and probably much that is untrue. But 
 he is your enemy. Yet he did not come hither to wage 
 war, but to slay the supposed murderer of his sister. He 
 was innocent. He is still my brother. For the last time 
 my arm is round the neck of my brother, and we shall 
 soon part to meet no more. I will return to that remnant 
 of the broad country which was once all our own. Shall 
 I go in peace, or must I fight my way thither?" 
 
 " Go in peace. We shall not be the first to break it," 
 said the officer. 
 
 Brandt then spoke in a loud voice to Esther and Moody, 
 who were on the summit of the cliff, surrounded by their 
 followers. He told them that his brother was innocent of 
 
SECOND SERIES. 329 
 
 his sister's blood, and that the one ■who injured h.m would 
 be the foe of Thaycndanegea. And he said he had a^rrecd 
 to a suspension of hostilities on the eastern side of the 
 Delaware. Then, by the authority vested in him as Grand 
 Sachem of the Six Nations, he commanded the Indians to 
 return to the Delaware. 
 
 "And now, my brother," said he, embracing Charles, 
 " we are reconciled, but we part. liCt us never be foes 
 again. Believe not the extravagant stories told of the 
 Mohawk chief, and no one shall slander the White Eagle. 
 Farewell !" 
 
 And then, averting his face, Brandt strode away toward 
 the dense forest. But he had only proceeded a few steps 
 when the report of a rifle rang in his ear. His first glance 
 was toward the crest of the cliff, where the small cloud of 
 smoke still lingered. His next was at Charles, who stag- 
 gered forward, and would have fallen, if the great chief 
 had not caught him in his arms. 
 
 A prolonged, thrilling shriek was heard at the cliff. 
 Then the heavy door was swung back upon the blackened 
 fireplace of the consumed hut, and Julia sprang forth and 
 glided frantically toward her beloved. Neither rocks nor 
 streams nor armed men impeded her course. Her white 
 robe streaming in the air, her hair hanging down dishevelled, 
 she rushed forward and threw her arms around her wounded 
 lover's neck. Brandt relinquished his burden, and, hastily 
 uttering a few words to the astounded ofiicer, leaped across 
 the stream like an enraged tiger after his prey. Before a 
 gun was raised by the astonished soldiers, the great chief 
 was seen again upon the dizzy height, with his hand grasp- 
 ing the throat of the murderer. 
 
 "He confesses the deed!" cried Brandt. "And he it 
 was who killed my sister. Behold the vengeance of Thay- 
 cndanegea !" 
 
 He plunged his knife into the breast of the guilty savage, 
 who sank down at his feet without a stru^xgle. And before 
 the eyes of the spectators could be turned again in the 
 direction of the fallen youth, the gigantic chief dragged the 
 murderer forward and hurled him over the precipice ! 
 
 " Cold ! cold !" said Julia, sitting on the ground, with 
 the head of the speechless and dying Charles resting 
 against her bosom. " Cold ! cold !" she continued, kissinjf 
 
 28* 
 
330 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 his lips, "and very, very pale!" But the youth was no 
 paler than herself as she gazed with unmoistened eyes upon 
 his face. "No ! no!" said she, when the white-headed fa- 
 ther of Charles came forward, weeping bitterly, and would 
 have snatched him from her arms. "He's mine !" said she. 
 " You shall not tear him away ! But the damp earth must 
 receive him ! I will bury him, and I will remain bending 
 over his grave, like the willow. But I do not weep. I 
 cannot weep. Why is it so, Kate?" she continued, seeing 
 the tears of her companion. " You know I loved him, 
 Kate. Then why do not the tears gush forth ? Mr. Jones, 
 cannot you tell me ? Oh, you need not feel his pulse, my 
 friend. He smiled sweetly — it was for me alone, and I 
 understood it — and then like the sighing zephyr his spirit 
 passed away. And, Kate, he died in my arms. And I 
 do not weep. If I cannot shed tears, I will sing — sing the 
 rest of my days. Singing is better than weeping. And 
 yet every one around is shedding tears ! Am I not a 
 very strange girl, Kate ? Do not despise me ; I cannot 
 help it." 
 
 " Skippie," cried the poor old man to his faithful ser- 
 vant, sobbing at his side, " we will go to France. Make 
 all the arrangements. And when I, too, am dead, take 
 my body to Scotland. Then come hither, and convey 
 thence to the same grave the bones of my son." 
 
 "No! They are mine !" cried Julia.' "Although I do 
 not weep like the rest, we were plighted lovers. I Avas his 
 and he was mine — mine forever. We were one. Before 
 God and man our hearts were joined together. No throb 
 in his but vibrated in mine. He weeps not now, and I do 
 not weep. He is dead, and I, too, am dead to the world. 
 But 1 will love you still, Kate. And you will help me to 
 plant flowers over his grave. I cannot dew them with my 
 tears ; but my Maker will send refreshing showers, will he 
 not, Mr. Jones ?" 
 
 " Come, my poor child !" said the sighing Baptist, 
 gently removing her from the body. " This is no placQ 
 for you. Come with me to the house of your guardian." 
 
 "Will they bear him thither?" asked Julia, in a low 
 whisper, clinging to the preacher's arm. 
 
 "Yes, if you desire it." 
 
 "Desire it?" said she, her brilliant orbs fixed upon tho 
 
SECOND SERIES 831 
 
 Boldiers and others surrounding the body. " I command 
 it !" she cried, in a loud voice. " There is a willow," she 
 added, "with a million drooping boughs, near the council- 
 tree beside the brook, where our vows were plighted. There 
 they shall bury him. Come, Kate; they will follow us. 
 You must not leave me to-day. I know your father has 
 sent for you, and for me too, but we will linger a while, 
 won't we 'i What would he think of me if I appeared be- 
 fore him with no tear in my eye? But, Kate," she con- 
 tinued, in a sweet, sad voice, as her arm encircled the waist 
 of her sobbing companion, "my heart is broken. There 
 is a cold spot upon it. It can never be warm again. Pity 
 me, Kate. I am very miserable. And see his poor father — 
 an exile in a strange land, bending over his murdered son ! 
 It was the work of the cruel Esther. God ! ven- 
 geance belongs to thee ! I would not crush the smallest 
 worm in my path. Enough of that ! I alone am talking, 
 while the rest do nothing but weep ; and I feel as one 
 standing on some dreary rock between the living and the 
 dead; and death has no terrors, for he smiled in death. 
 Come ! But Solo remains. See !" she continued, glancing 
 back, "my poor Solo lies beside the body. Stay there, 
 Solo, and see that they bring him to thy mistress." 
 
 Pale and tearless, the poor maiden was led away. The 
 body was soon after borne along the same path, and the 
 next day it was placed under the willow. But Julia never 
 wept. She only chanted the incoherent ballad which her 
 disordered mind seemed to be ever composing. 
 
 Lochiel, bowed with grief and the weight of years, de- 
 parted soon after in one of the Erench ships, and died in 
 Paris. 
 
 After lingering a few days over the grave of the mur- 
 dered youth, Julia and Kate were conducted, by the Kev. 
 Mr. Jones, to the residence of Governor Livingston, near 
 which were again established the head-quarters of Wasb- 
 ington. 
 
332 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Mr. Schooley and his son Richard were plunged into 
 the depths of misery. The cause of King George was now 
 truly desperate, and no one really supposed the United 
 States could ever be conquered. Already the civil 
 authorities were confiscating the estates of those who had 
 given aid to the enemy. And, as friend Thomas was aware 
 that the fact of the sale of his droves of cattle to the 
 British could not remain unknown, he was endeavouring to 
 summon the fortitude to bear with Christian humility the 
 loss of all he held most dear in the world. His only hope 
 was in his ward. Her intellects were wandering, and, if 
 she remained non compos mentis^ his legal guardianship 
 might be prolonged. Her estate could not be forfeited. 
 But then she was a guest at "Liberty Hall," the residence 
 of the governor, and Thomas could have no controversy 
 with him. 
 
 Paddy remained on the farm, at the special request of 
 Julia, who charged him to watch the grave of her loved 
 one during her absence. And Peter Shaver was the over- 
 seer when Mr. Schooley returned to Burlington. Peter 
 retained his ass till his death, which occurred some fifteen 
 years subsequently. The poor animal, which had been so 
 often shocked at the spilling of blood, was ever an object 
 of curiosity to the neighbours. 
 
 Mr. Van Wiggens, although he could never reconcile 
 "Vatch" to the black tomcat of his spouse, had the saga- 
 city to keep Mrs. Van Wiggens herself in a proper state of 
 conjugal subjection, by means of his pet bear, which he 
 chained to one of the posts of the porch of the inn. 
 
 Solo was the constant companion of his mistress, whose 
 restoration was despaired of by the best surgeons in the 
 army. 
 
 The commander-in-chief, dining one day wit>h Governor 
 Livingston, and, having heard some of the particulars of 
 
SECOND SERIES. 333 
 
 Julia's history, expressed a desire to see the poor demented 
 maiden. Kate led the benign general into the apartment 
 where Julia was wreathing flowers and forming crowns of 
 laurel. She looked up, and smiled sweetly, but sadly. Her 
 paleness remained, and the wild expression of her eyes 
 seemed not diminished. 
 
 Her thoughts were with the dead. Whatever reply she 
 made to the interrogatories of visitors, she invariably re- 
 verted to the wild woods and to her departed lover. And 
 her responses were frequently snatches of improvised verses, 
 which, when one beheld her and listened to her mournful 
 but musical voice, seemed the appropriate language of 
 heartbroken maidens. 
 
 "I know what you would hear," said she, as the pitying 
 Washington gently pressed her hand. " You would have 
 me repeat my ballad. Listen : — 
 
 " On the gentle Wyalusing, 
 In the sultry month of June ; 
 When the stars begemm'd the heavens, 
 And earth was silver'd by the moon 
 
 They say, sir, or I've dreamt it, that wandering among 
 the wild roses by moonlight with him (you shall hear) in- 
 jured my intellect. But, pray, don't believe them. 
 
 Beside the leaping laughing water, 
 When the dusky bats were tlying, 
 When the ■whippoorwill was sighing. 
 And the katydid was crying, 
 W^hen the leaves were trembling o'er us, 
 And purest blossoms bloom'd before us, 
 Nestling 'gainst his noble 
 
 But, sir, that may be a solemn secret, not to be divulged. 
 Mr. Sohooley, my good guardian, says I ought not to sing 
 such things. He is a good man, but I don't think his heart 
 was ever broken. He must have fallen in love in the town, 
 and not in the wild woods. Please, sir, don't let them 
 injure my good guardian. He was very kind to me, and 
 permitted Charles to come whenever he wished. 
 
 Together on the Wyalusing, 
 
 Or the pebbly Pa-pa-kating, 
 
 Or the spreading Susquehanna, 
 
 Or tlie rushing Lackawanna, 
 
 Or the whispering Kittauiug, 
 
 Or the green banks of Neshaming— 
 
334 WILD WESTERN SCENES: 
 
 Hand-in-hand we roamed together ! 
 
 He was true, and I adored him ; 
 
 But the cruel Queen destroy'd him 
 
 I must stop there to breathe, and I'm sure you'll wait. 
 Whenever I come to that part I am seized with a suffo- 
 cating sensation, and that is the reason why I am panting. 
 They say, if I could weep — but why should I? I knew 
 he's in heaven. And will I not go thither ? You are a 
 good man, I know, by your face. Say, do you not think 
 I may meet him in heaven ? Oh, pray, do not weep for 
 me! I cannot weep for him. 
 
 '' It was 'neath the quiv'ring tree, 
 At our feet the brawling brook, 
 He declared his love for me 
 And 
 
 Mr. Schooley might chide me, if I recited the rest 
 
 "But the earth is his cold pillow; 
 He lies beneath the weeping willow. 
 
 And, oh ! Julia cannot weep for him ! Dear sir, I would 
 weep if I could! Won't you believe me?" 
 
 "Yes, my dear child," said Washington, bending down 
 and kissing her ivory forehead. 
 
 " I thought so ! Yes, you may kiss me if you will. 
 They call you the father of your country. I am an orphan. 
 We are good. The good meet in heaven. But do not 
 weep for me. I am not so unhappy as they think. I have 
 my dreams and my fancies, and I know his spirit attends 
 me. Farewell !" 
 
 Poor Julia, although undoubtedly impatient for death to 
 relieve her, survived all her youthful acquaintances except 
 Wilted Grass, the Delaware chief. She wandered from the 
 grave of Charles to that of his forest sister on the Ken- 
 tucky River, ever accompanied by Gentle Moonlight, the 
 Thrush's foster-mother. The faithful Solo was their only 
 protector, until age and infirmities rendered him incapable 
 of following them. Then Julia remained at her farm, sit- 
 ting daily beneath the weeping willow. And when her 
 gentle companion died, her body was placed beside the lost 
 boy she had nurtured. But Julia remained, probably un- 
 conscious of the lapse of time, for many weary years, 
 a lonely dweller among successive generations ; and, final- 
 ly, when she had attained her eightieth year, departed 
 
SECOND SERIES. 335 
 
 witliour a groan or a disease, and joined her friends in 
 heaven. 
 
 The family of Schooley, tradition avers, removed to 
 Enghmd. It is said the politic landlord at Burlington, 
 whom Thomas had established in business, persuaded his 
 patron, after the confiscation of his lands, to seek indem- 
 nity for Moody's spoliation, and to pursue William Franklin 
 for the XIOOO he owed him. As for the amount due from 
 himself to the Quaker, he (Brown) was "all right," and 
 would reimburse him some day or other. 
 
 Bonnel Moody was arrested within the American lines 
 near Morristown, and hung as a spy. 
 
 The Rev. David Jones survived to a good old age. And 
 when the second war was waged with Great Britain he 
 again left the pulpit for the field. Many particulars of 
 his life may he found in the " Field-Book of the Revo- 
 lution." 
 
 Kate Livingston, likewise, lived to an extreme old age, 
 and was blessed with a happy family. The only sad 
 moments of her life, after the fearful scenes she had wit- 
 nessed in the conflict for liberty, were when she visited 
 Julia at her abode near the Rock. 
 
 Wilted Grass died only a few years ago near the ocean, 
 in New Jersey, and was buried in the grave of his fathers. 
 The Legislature of the State, shortly before his decease, 
 bestowed a sum of money on the aged chief and the small 
 remnant of Delawares who dwelt with him, as compensa- 
 tion for the destruction of their game. The original grants 
 from the Indians reserved the right of hunting. 
 
 Simon Kenton's subsequent career, and Girty's doom, 
 have been portrayed by a skilful limner of Kentucky, in 
 two volumes, one entitled "Simon Kenton," and the other 
 " The Winter Lodge." 
 
 Of Boone, the hero of so many legends and romances, 
 it is only necessary for us to say that he died in Missouri, 
 following the buffalo and Indians as they fled before the 
 tide of civilization. Some of the adventures of his old 
 age are described in the first series of "Wild Western 
 Scenes," which may have fallen into the hands of the 
 reader of these pages. 
 
 THE END. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 RENEWALS ONLY—TEl. NO. 642-3405 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall 
 
 _LD 21A-40m-2,'69 
 (J6057sl0)476— A-32 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of Californi 
 
 Berkeley 
 
I 
 
 <•- 
 
 ivi533393 
 
 qss- 
 
 I 
 
ii