THE

 . BAOKWOODSMEN;

ve

s‘oml .‘ 03'
L.5?\
?“ _
 ON THE TRAIL.
,,2
_”g;' ,‘ BY ASA BEALL.
 L:
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. 
E2
 NEW YORK:

_  "B-EADLE AND AbAM‘s, PUBL‘ISHERB,
"  v No. 98 WIme STREET. ‘

 

Inland nccord‘ng to Act. of Congress. in the year 1871, by
BEADLE AND ADAMS,

h flm omce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washinxm

 

 

THE WO ODMEN.

CHAPTER I.‘

gov, tradition unfolds her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of timel

Once more on the fork-ribbed mountains of the Alie-
fhanies; once more in the boundless wilderness, and the
mshing torrents and frightful preeipices; once more amid
the grandeur of undisturbed nature, in the luxuriant flui-
‘etude ot' the sunshine, and the sublime rush of the tem-
pest; once more amid God's stupendous works. where
the exquisite melody of bird and insect is sweetly blended
with the mysterious hum of itmnimnte nature.

Here tradition points, with its unerring finger, and here
we, 'as truthful chroniclers of the past, must: follow. With
the written history we will not intermeddie. Lol‘tier spir-
‘,its have sung its bewitching strnins. We breathe nu hum-
ble atmosphere. We dent in legends; the mere Fragments-
of history—nuwritten us yet, existing here and there, seen

j only through the dim twilight of other days, nrunnd which
1 'time has thrown its rich mnnlie—invusting them with a
fascinating romance, and n lofty chivalry, tlznt renders
them deeply interesting. It is true, they are but Slll‘tii
portions of the magnificent whole—lite more threads of
thnt splendid “‘OUC/ out. of which the history of our own
beloved land has been fashioned; but they are threads of
'gol‘dentexture. The resemblance they bear to the writ;-
‘ten history is eminently striking. The same linenmentl‘

 

 

 

l

10 THE WOODMEN. '

pervade both. One is a magnificent obelisk, towering up
majestically to the azure firtnamenl, and emblazoned with
a thousand glorious insc riptions. typifying the heroic deeds
of our fathers, whilst the other is but a simple column,

‘ beautifully symmetrical in its proportions, it is true, but

I bearing t:i"e names of humble individuals aioue, without
heraldic device or other inscription to commemorate their
exalted virtues. The first exiSIs in the enduring records
of our country; the latter in the treacherous memory of,
man, and must. soon, amid the general mutability of things
01' this earth, pass away, unless speedily embodied upon
canvas, or preserved in some other durable form.

The incidents of the following tradition occurred in the
tutumn of the year of our Lord, 1775. Immediately sub-
sequent to the battle of Monongahela, the Indians dwell~
ing beyond the outskirts of civilizuion, feeling ’that all re-
straint was removed by their sauguinary triumph, precipi-
tated themselves, like a destructive inundation, upon the
unprotected inhabitants along the eastern base of‘the Alie-
ghany Mountains. An instinctive sense of wrong, coupled
with the seductive language and insinuating arguments of
Erench emissm-ies, stimulated them to the perpetration of
the most diabolical outrages that ever stained the records
of human history. This fair heritage of our fathers,
Itretching away for many miles along the northern branch
of the Potomac, and sleeping quietly amid magnificent old
mountains, whose lofty summits reach far upward to4
ward the deep, blue sky, became the theatre of their san-
guinary incursions. ,

Many a long year has since been buried in the grave of
the past, and many a one who witnessed the deVelopmenu
of the scenes in that bloody drama has been summoned
away, yet the visible effect of the invisible workings of
the dank and terrible passions that convulsed the souls of
these untutored sons of the wilderness are exhibited in all
their naked deformity, in the numerous ruins of houses '
and log-cabins that still remain along our valleys and mounl \
min heights. .

The most tragical event ever recorded in history,or e

l

 
 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 
   

 

 

 

 

 

      

 

 

 

//

THE WOODMEN. ' ‘ 11

~ bodled in the writings of fiction, scarcely furnished a par-
allel to the cold-blooded and wanton cruelty displayed at '
the excision of 1775,‘ in the valley of the Potomac. Old
men, whose venerable heads were whitened by the frost!)
of many winters, helpless women and inofl’ensivo children,

/ were immolated indiscriminately upon the altar of unre-
strained passion. The sweet valley of the Potomac was
deluged in blood. Houses were plundered. and burnt to
the ground; the inmates compelled to fly for safety into
the fastnesses of the surrounding mountains, or sub nit to
the tomahawk, the fagot and stake. The night was lit up
by the glare of burning houses, and made hideous by the
dcmoniac war-whoop of the savage, and the day disclosed
‘one continuous scene of death and desolation. But the
eye of an avenging God was upon the instigntors of these
horrid deeds, and terrible was their retribution.

 

CHAPTER II.

“ Arm l am, my lordsi Rome never had more causal
The Goths have gathered head; and with a power
Of high resolved men, bent to the spoil,

‘ They hither march nmain, under conduct
0t Lucius. Titus Androm’m.

It was in the month of October, on the day previous to
the occurrence of the scenes we are about to describe.
Morning had dawned, bright and beautiful. upon the
world. The sun rose up in nnclonded .magnificence over
the eastern hills, and bathed the sweet rural Valley of the
Potomac in a flood of soft. golden light. The pearly dew
drop still lingered upon the autumn flowers, and garnished

‘. ‘the russet, crimson and gold livery of the trees .with a
'.bright, sparkling brillianoy.

It was, indeed, a lowly
morning; and in looking over the peaceful Valley. with
the radiant sunshine flooding its beautiful undulating fields
“with the lowing herds browsing upon their still luxuf

 

 

'12 THE \VOODMEN.

riant pastures. and the broal, tranquil bosom of the Poto-
mac gleaming like a gigantic mirror set in mountains for
u frame—we r *alizc all the most extravagant description
of the glories of Arcadia.

But humanity involuntarily shudders when we recollect.

how briefa space of time must intervene before the inhabi-
tants shall be startled by the war—whoop of savage men;
when the red combat, with all its accumulated horrors,
shall come to crimson their threshold; when the light of
the eonflagration, whose unearthly :lvams are always pro-
phetic of approaching t‘langvr, shall illume the surrounding
darkness; and when the dark spirit of desolation, like the
awful curse of the Deity, shall prevail over this fair
scene.
‘ Vain, for a. time, will be the warrior’s 7 might to check
the frightful carnage. Battle—signals will continue to
gleam over the hills, in the deep forests and qniet (tales,
with savage grandeur. The mountains will re-eeho the
war-ch ot‘ ruthless savages, and the prayer for mercy,
the groans of expiring mothers, and the watts of helpless
infancy, shall be all unheeded, and men shall seem devils
incarnate. The obduracy of their hearts will be shown in‘
manya bleeding Scalp an] murdered victim.

But we are (ligressing. It was on this morning of
beauty that a horseman came galloping over the valley, to-
ward a modest-looking cottage, situated on the banks of
the Potomac, near where now stands the city of Cumber-
land. The sides of the noble animal were satu 'ated with
foaming flakes, but he.dashed forward With ,vigorous
hounds, fairly disdainng the earth he trod upon, so grace-
ful were his mations.

His master was appare‘led somewhat after the Indian
custom. IIis dress was composed of a hunting shirt, and
pants oflinsey-woolsey, with moccasins of deer-skin. and
a beaver cap; but neither marred the symmetry of his per-

son or gallant bearing. In his hand he carried a ponder- 1

cos rifle, the inseparable companion of the frontiersman,
and above the belt encircling hiswaist gleamed the heft of
a glittering knife. He appeared much excited; his dark

 

"9.4”; r. y-i
, : /

 

   

 
  
  

 

    

THE WOODMEN. 13

eyes sparkled with unusual fire. Dismounting, he tlu ew
I ’ his rein to an old African servant in attendance, and has-
, tily entered the cottage.

This old descendant of Ham had passed the meridian of
his day, but his tail frame was still stout and muscular,
and a more ungainly human being could scarce be seen.

f His small, twinkling black eyes were deeply rested in his
forehead; his nose was flat, the point of which reached
downward almost to a level with his mouth, that extended
nearly from ear'to ear. His huge lips were thick and
luhherly, giving them an appearance bordering on absolute
deformity. In addition to these decided characteristics,
he boasted a pair of legs as long as Roaring Ralph Stack-
pole's, but ’quite different in their peculiar formation.

» Ralph’s were straight as reeds, but his Were as crooked as

- scythe-sneaths. His skin was black as midnight, an (i, as
might easily be supposed from his color, he glwried in the
appropriate cognomen of Ebony, which was generally ab—
breviated to Eh., for shortness.

But, if Ebony was uncouth in aspect, he possessed ,a
kind and generous heart, ever alive with sympathy for the
sufferings of others.

After greeting the young gentleman with a polite how,
he took the horse away, with a broad grin upon his coun-
jtenanee,’ muttering to himself as he went along:

“1’s glad dat yotmggemnnm hab come. Golly! won't
young Miss’s eyes sparkle with delight! She tub dat man
to kill; and de Lord help dis ole nigger for tinkin so, but
if dey don't come togedder soon, dis child is given right
away to hang heselt‘ up by the from, like a. dead ’possum.
Ynh l yah! ynh l”

The old fellow laughed long and heartily at his quaint
conceit, and then hummed the notes of a. rude song, tbs
burden of which seemed to be exactly as follows:—

“De conrtin‘s now ober,

And do gallant hab coma
To marry young missus,

And take her ’long homu'f

 

 

 

 

I

14 . THE WOODMEN.

“ Miles Howard, as I live!" exclaimed an old man,
whose silver locks and bowed aspect denoted extreme old
age, shaking the new-comer cordially by the band. “ We]-
come. my dear boy—Welcome back!"

“ Thank you, my good friend," answered Miles How-
ard. ‘

“ Well, really, I am very happy to see you; but what's
the news, my boy, what's the news?”

“I fear, my dear sir, I come as the bearer of unwelcome ‘

tidings."

“ How so 'I" .

V “The French, it is said, have instigated the Indians to
make an incursion upon this sett lement, and they are as-
sembling in great numbers for that purpose. I came to
apprize you of the imminent- danger suspended over" your
head, that you may make suitable preparations to avert the
approaching calamity.”

“I am much obliged to you for your kind solicitude,
but I apprehend but little danger. It has only been a few
Weeks since a deputation arrived here, bearing protesta;
tions of their feelings of good fellowship, and earnest (18-,

sires to cultivate sentiments of unity. Besides, we are cul- .

liVatOX's of the soil, and mingle not in the contests of the
battlefield. Our hands have never been imbruedin the
blood ot‘onr t‘ellow—creattu'es; and the din and slash of
arms, the glitter of spear and battle-axe, the hoarse word
of command, and the rush and conflict of contending foes,
fiercely struggling for the mastery, we regard with senti-
ments of religious horror. They are cognizant of these
facts, and what motive they can have for disturbing the
holy tranquility of this peaceful valley, and in driving the

plough-share of rain deep into its sacred bosom, is .a mys-

tery I cannot divine."

“The same incentive," Miles Howard replied, “ that
all reckless and abandoned renegades of society and ruth~
,less savages have for the perpetration of their base deeds.
They are actuated by an insatiable thirst for human blood,

and an unnatural propensity to extend the dark bosom "0!?

destruction over the land. They are a treacherous set;‘

/

 

 
 

 

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I alone, [aside from the fact that the French, and their In-
, \ dian allies, are sworn enemies to all the subjects of his
, «majesty, the King of England, would render you a dis-

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
   
   
 
 

THE WOODMEN. l5

rad thelr messages of peace were designed to lull you into

a fancied security, and tlllls make their contemplated at- .
tack more easy of aeeomplishment. Confide not in them

-—they are phantoms calculated to deceive.”

“But surely.” inquired Guy Lovell “I shall be exempt
from injury? I have done nothing to render myself ob-
noxious to them."

“No. sir; you will not come out of the ordeal un-
scathed by the fire. You exerted your influence in org-m.
izing a company of men to accompain the unfortunate

‘Braddock on his expedition against the French, and that

ti-nguished object on which to expend their malignant,
hatred." v

Guy Love] was now in his dotage, and possessed a large
proportion of that obstinate incredulity so characteristic of
old people. He was not disposed to give credence to an
opinion antagonistic to his own, unless advanced by his
lovely grand-daughter, whose gentle dictation, his mind,
after the imbecilities of old age had come upon him, impli-
citly followed.

 

CHAPTER III.

 

 

“Yet again, methinks,
Some unknown sorrow, ripe in futures womb,
Is coming toward me.” Shakespeare

Never, perhaps, had the celebrated valley of the Poto-
mac, beheld a creation more transcendanlly lovely than
Blanche Love]. To say that she was the very embodi-
ment of grace and beauty would be inadequate to express
all that she was. Her form was something above the me-
dium stature, and graceful as the willow; her eyes were
large, dark and lustrous as those of a gtlZl‘llt‘; her hair,
which hung in rich profusion about a neck that would

/

    
        

 

16 THE WOODMEN. '

have shamed the proud boost of the Grecian sculptor, was
black and glossy as the sable plumes of the raven; her
brow lofty and beautifully white, and her checks of that
delicate and transparent purity which the master hand of
Phidias essnyed in vuin to imitate. ‘-

But. if the beauty of her person was perfect, the powers
of her mind were transcendnnt. The impress of God‘s
most glorious gift unto his children—the impress of the

immortal mind—mind, that grapples with things infinite, ’

triumphs over matter, and reduces (Elmos into forms of' ex-
quisite loveliness—was visibly stamped upon her pure
white forehead; it gletuned forth in her dark eyes, irrndi-
ated every lincament of her countenznim, and spoke in
ench word that trempled upon her lips. It was her bril-
liant mind that threw a charming hnlo around her person,
and imparted dignity to its graceful contour. ,
Blanche Love] was an orphan from childhood ; he had

never known the caresses of loving parents. Miles How- »

ard had been the sole companion of her ehihllzood’s sports;
hewas the unreluctnnt recipient of her joys, and the wil-
ling participnnt in all her sorrows. In their extreme
youth they had strolled together upon the wild and luxu-

riant bank of the Potomac, weaving bright fancies for each

other's future, and roamed amid the fragrant buds and
blossoms of the fields, culling guy flowers to bind each
other’s brows; and as the age of maturity’ advanced upon
them, the young buds ot‘love soon cxpnuded into the full-
blown flower.

But, alas! the cup of their happiness, once filled to the
brim, was destined to'be dashed with drags. When she
entered the cottage a-smile ofjoy illumined her‘sweet fea-
tures, and she threw herseli'upon the manly bosom of Milel.
exelniming:

“Welcome back, dear ltlilesl—welcome hack to your
friends, whose light and huppiness you are!” I

“Tlumk you, dearest Blanche,” Miles replied, pressing ‘
“If nnything,r could enhance ..

her mpturously to his heart.
the delight I experience at beholdng you :11} again it
. would be your kind snlutntion." ’ T

 

   

  

 

 

  
 
    

 
    
 
 

 

 

 

 

  

THE WOODMEN.

“You are all goodness, dear Milesfand none other
than one possessed of your noble heart would have
voluntarily incurred the danger of visiting us at this time.
Accept"—

“Nay, mine own beloved Blanche. no thanks. Duty
required the visit, and when duty calls, Miles Howard is
not one to shrink back ail'righted. Danger is suspended
over this peaceful settlement, and all \vho dwell within its
borders. The tomahawk and sealping knife of the savage

are prepared for their bloody offices; his fierce war-whoop

is even now echoing along the neighboring mountains.
You must fly from this place like a frightened deer, or you
will inevitably fall into the hands of designing men, such
as will have the management of the expedition contem-

plated against the inhabitants of the settlement. Lieuth

nant Harbison and Simon Girty are the ostensible. lenders,
and God in Heaven only can prescribe limits to the exer-
cise of their cruel passions.”

At mention of Harbison‘s name, Blane-he’s fair form
trembled with apprehension, and a fin‘clmding of evil,
omounting almost to an absolute conviction, flashed across
her mind.

Lieutenant John Harbison, a well-known French parti-
zan, was a native of the Old Dominions. In 1749, he mi-
grated, with a near reintiVe, to Fort Du Quesne, and when
the seven years’ war between the English and the French, ‘
for the empire of the great valley of the Ohio, extended its
desolating reign over that vast region of country, like a
traitorous wretch, he linked himself to the uncertain for-
tunes of his natural enemy. They honored him with 3
lieutenant's commission, and then the natu'al licentioun-
ness of his disposition, and his inhuman thirst for blood,
were exercised with unrestrained indulgence.

"Never, perhaps, was a combination of more ferocioul
and fiend-like qualities concentrated within the same indi-
vidual: There was nothing in the whole catalogue of hue
than depravity to which he would not stoop, to secure the
accomplishment of his nefarious designs. .

He had beheld Blanche Level, when the young buds of

 

  

 

 

     

18 THE WOODMEN.

her beauty had first begun to deVelop themselves, Ind
each petal that expmaled into light was anew incentive to
'the fierce passions of his soul. Fora time he enthmvored
to restrain them, but, like the impetuous torrent that
dashes down the mountain's rugged breast, they turned
aside every impediment in their resistless career} Then it
was that he submitted to their wild government, and,
bowed, in enthusiastic admiration, at the shrine of their
divinity. lie prostrated himself at her feet, and earnestly
and piteously invoked a requital of his love, that one my
[Of brightness might be shed over the gloom of his exist-
ence.- But she rejected his overtures, kindly but firmly;
told him that her afi'ections Were irrevocably another‘s,
and that under no circumstances whatever. could she con-
sent to break her plighted troth, and form an alliance with
one whom she did not and could not love.

Unaccustomed to be thwarted in any of his desires, he
could not silently brook this mortifyiug,r repulse. All the
extreme malignity of his nature seemed quickeued into ex-
istence at once, and. in atone of ill-suppressed rage, he
ventured every epithet of abuse upon the innocent object,
of his anger. He solemnly asseverated that she, proud
and haughty as she had appeared to him, should be his;
if not by the gentle means of persuasion, then by the ,

rerce ones of compulsion. -

His agency in the contemplated incursion was mainly

.tributnble to sinister motives. He knew that it ,would
afford him a fair opportunity to redeem his oath, and reit-
lize his brightest earthly hopes, by lending the beautiful ‘
object of his unhallowed adoration into captivity, and
compelling her to become his bride, or force her to submit
to a fate a thousand times more horrible and excruciating
than even death itself. In forming his plans, he experi-
enced not the slightest compuuction of, conscience. In-
stead of the will being guided by conscience, conscience,
as is frequently the case, was fureed to submit to the guid-
ance of the will. l /.

Llanche’s agitation lasted. but a moment. Disengnging
herself from the embrace of Miles, she informed him, whilst

(

 

I.

 

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, 
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, THE WOODMEN. 15

o serene smile lit up her intelligent features, of the cause .
of her apprehension. 7‘

“Fear not," replied Miles; “that oath shall perjure his
soul. You shall he effectually protected. Innocence is
on invincible safeguard, and whilst panoplicd in its bright
armor. you will be secure from molestation. Over such,

' dear Blanche, God‘s protecting; arm is always suspended.
‘VAurd, mine own, my beloved Blanche, I, and the balance
of your friends, will not desert you; or, if they do, may
God desert them."

As he ceased speaking he folded the sweet girl, In]!
,blushiug, to his heart, and was about impressing the first
warm and generous kiss of love upon her lips, when the
xungainly form of Ebony, with a good-natured smile play-
Ilng about the lineaments of his countenance, darkened the
doorway. I V

Ebony was a privileged character, as old and faithful

\ servants usually are, going and coming when and where
he listed, without molestation. IIis intrusion, therefore,
at. this inauspicious moment, was accounted amongst his
rightful prerogatives, and passed off with a. quiet remark
from Miles, who had taken the old negro into special
favor. '

“Ah! Eb., you old sinner, have you just come to bid
me welcome 9”

\ “Gorry Mighty, massa, dis ole darkey hab so much to

I do, (less times, he. can hardly find time to say how-de-do.

\ But I‘s proper glad to see my young massa hub sich good
color, and look so well. Missn Blanche, too, her lubly
check am red as the rose—yah, yah, yah!"

“Hush, you old scampl” exclaimed Blanche. good.
hunioredly, endeavoring to conceal the blushes sufi‘usilg
her cheeks with crimson, “or I‘ll show you the outsitfl
of the door."

"Bless de Lord, missa, no defence, no defence; dis ole
nigger didn’t mean no defence l" , '

As Eb. delivered this learned apology, his huge mouth
was distendctlfrom car to ear, displaying two rows of
shark-like teeth, white an ivory; and he could scarcely

l

 

 

THE WOODMEN’.

suppress another uproarimis yahl yah! yahl that strug-
gled hard to free itself from his capacious jl'uvs.

. “ Well, Ebony," inquired Miles, “how does the world
use you? Can you dance Jub'a with as many extra flour-
ishes as usual 2" ‘

“De world am gwien llill‘d \vid Ebony. I's gitten’ old,
and I sometimes hahs a romantic ’jectiou in dis shoulder,

I ‘ and my back aches terrible before a storm; but, bless do
Lord, Iliabs to grin and bear it. ’Cnsionally I rubs it
wid ’possum fat, and it linl) great effect to obflusticate do
ontensity ob de pain. But I'se still hard to heat on do
\‘lonble-shufl‘Ie-cn‘t-de-pigeon-wing-juber, wid dc thrlun
lions." . ‘ ‘

And, uniting the action to the word, the old scnmp be-
gun to swing his incongruous body to and fro, prepma-ttortr
to showing off with a grand flourish. Then, bounding up
with considerable agility, he Commenced a. double-shuffle
in the reel ancient style, beating his breast, hips and
thighs, in the mean titne, with his hands, to keep the re?
quisite time. Miles understood the old fellow's besetting
sin, and. handing him a small piece of coin, he quickly

" . disappeared, bowing, and scraping, and grinning with the
nflccted politeness of a French dancing-master; Incl.
attiking up'n tune, he sung:

“0h! walk jaw-bone, and tarker, too,
For I’se (le child What can go through,
Scratch do gravel, cut the pigeon's wing; .
Oh ! I‘se de boy to dance and sing.”

3 As the day advanced, the fears of 'Miles and Blanclm
mbsided, and the threatening danger was forgotten in the
fascination of each othcr’s society, and in recalling the es-
Boeiations that cluster, like bright halos, around the past,‘
when youth, with its fond hopes, its sweet dreams, and

its glorious anticipations, had dawned so brightly upon,
them—when life was one uninterrupted scene of golden. ‘
sunshine and gay bowers, silver lakes, and bright and
Ipnrkllng cascades. Alas! that it should ever be transa

 

TH E WOODMEN. ' 21

{ox-med, as it too frequently is, into the dreary mirage of

. the desert! But man is continually prone to error. He
is the creature of his habits. They rule him with a rod
ofircn; they bind him with fetters of brass; he cannot
extricate himself from their influence, how baucful socver
they may be. He has not the power, if he possessed the
will; and, as a consequence, the ideal, with its bea utiel,
ll detmsed, and stern reality usurps the throne.

CHAPTER IV.

—“ I will have vengeance!
I’ll crush thy swelling pridel I‘ll sting thy vauntingi
I’ll do a deed of blood 1” Joanna Built“.

“ But ah! those dreadful yells, what soul can hear,
That owns a carcass, and not quake with tear.”
Cowper.

About three leagues west of Guy Lovel's cottage, up
the Potomac, there is a deep ravine, opening as you ad-
va’nce towards the main vallt- , and running far back into
the heart of Dilll's'IiIountnin. At the period of which I
,write, it was overhung with the drooping branches of the
'hemiock, interwoven with masses of thick, 'clustering
. vines, rendering it almost impervious to the eye. A short
distance up the dismal gorge, Lieutenant Hurbison, and
the notorious renegude, Simon Girly, with about fifty sav-
age warriors were encumpetl. But not a sound broke in
.upon the death-like tranquility that prevailed over it.
,They scarcely seemed to breathe, so perfect was the si-
lence.

All, save one, seemed locked in profound slumber. This
personage wore the uniform of the French army. Hts
:person was tall and We]l-proportioued; his features Were
regularly chiselled, and might have been considered etnio
nently handsome, but for the nmligunnt soowl that now

\

 

 

 

    

22 THE WO‘ODMEN.
and then swept over the fair face of nature, excluding the
glorious sunlight of heaven. He was seated on a. log, be— , -
fofore a handful of live coals, apparently engaged in the J
solution of some profound, metaphysical subtlety. At
last he rose up, drew a glittering scalpiug-lmlfe from its
sheath, and fell: its keen edge. Then thrusting it back
mto its scabbard, he wildly exclaimed, while an expression ~
of deadliest hatred settled upon his features: ' ‘
“You thoughtI would submit to this disgraceful re— '
I pulse without a murmur. But never, Blanche Lov‘el— . , 
never will I do it. My injured honor calls loudly for re-
venge. It is sweet, my blood thirsts for it, and, by the
eternal Heavens, I’ll have it. My oath—ah, curse the
oath! Yet, it must be so; my oath demands. And on
to-morrow—but then I may not survive to-niorrow’s work
——yet on to—morrow I will return that look of bitter scorn t
with ten-fold interest. Then my hour of triumph will ' l
have arrived. But, a. maledictiou on this horrible presenti-
ment. And yet, it cannot bel But why do I think of-
death? I am still in all the vigor of manhood; my body
is capable of endurance. It is true, it has been subjected
to all. manner of hardships; but that, instead of enervating
the muscles, has inured them to privations and fatigue.
And yet, something—something here, here in my feverish
brain—admonishes me that I will, that I must soon be-
come a prey to the King of Terrors. The ghastly mon-
ster, with its hideously-distorted features—41m long and
disheveled locks, matted and clotted with human gore ;’~’
his eye-balls gleaming like coals of fire, and his fleshless
bones whitened and blanched by time—rises up in naked
deformity before me. It mocks me with its horrid lnugh,
and gnashcs its teeth in mortal hatred. Avaunt, thou
cruel monster! Hence! Away! Leave me! Alli it ’ ,
was but a wayward t'uucyl—an ignis-fatuus of the mind! '
-n. mental hallucination of the moment! But why these \
painful thoughts, rushing with maddening fury through ’
my brain? What do they foreshadow? Can they be the ' ‘
forerunners of that fatal messenger? No, no; I cannot die ‘
yet! Days, long clay: of unbounded happiness are still

 

~

THE WOODMEN. 23

before me. Blanche will—must, that's the word—must be
mine! If not willingly, then forcibly; yes, I repeat 'it,

forcibly! That will he revenge;indeed—revenge as sweet
as the fabled manna of heaven to the dwellers in the wilder.
ncss. And as for Miles Howard—my hated rival—who
has supplanted me in the affections of that girl. may all
the accumulated muledictions of hell he thundered against
me and mine ifI do not blot him from existence!"

His soliloquy completed, he buckled on his sword,
thrust a brace of pistols beneath his belt, and, rousing the
savages from their slumbers, he and Girty, wilh their coun<
tenanees hesmeared with war-paint, like the Indians, he's-
tily left the camp. '

The night was one of eonsunnnate heauty. The soft,
liquid radiance of the moon shone brightly on leaf and
shrub, and rendered the outlines of the distant mountains
clear and distinct. Their grmiite-crowned summits gleam-
cd in the light, like stupendous glaciers of snow; and far
“away toward the east, where nohly rears its lofty cone 3
thousand feet above the surroumlinr: plain, the Potomac
appeared like an immense belt of silver. stretching away

“as far as the eye could follow its meanderings. Up tn<
ward the zenith nothing was Seen hut the resplendent
azure of the sky, with here and there a hrightfstar glitter-
ing, like acelestial sentinel, on the blue battlements of
heaven; whilst, toward the west. just above the horizon,
a few gauze-like clouds floated across the disks of the stars
in that direction, like a transparent veil arross the face of
a bright, joyous and truthful woman. A refreshing breeze
Occasionally stirred the crisped foliage of the trees, and
every now and then the night-hawk’s melancholy scream.
or the distant hooting of the owl, swelled upon the car;
than all would relapse again into deep quietude.

'Iiarbison, after leaving the. camp, shaped his course
down the gorge, toward its mouth. He threaded the for-

‘ est with a confident. step, apparently unconscious of dan-
ger, but wholly intent upon the accomplishment of his
well-laid plans. Uuserupulous in his designs, on all pre-
‘iious‘occusions, he was wary and circumspect in the ex‘

-

 

2 t TIIIE WOODMEN.

treme, in carrying them out; but now, his usual precau~ ‘

tion was abandoned. A spell seemed to be upon him.
An irresistible destiny summoned him forward, and he’wil-
lineg obeyed its fatal behests. How many are thus delu-
(led in this world, whilst following the bent of their ineli-
nntionsl They do not behold the awful precipice upon
which they. stand, until it is too late to recede. Oh! when
will men divest themselves of their wilful blindness, and
stand out in the original light in which the Deity intended
they should wulk. '
After arriving at the mouth of the gorge, IIm'bison and
his coadjutor turned toward the east, where A few streaks
of reddish-grey light began to show themsea res along the
eastern horizon.
whole heavens were clothed with imperial purple, then
changed into crimson, then entirely disappeared, and a rich
rush of golden sunlight tinged the tops of the hills, and
gradually descended along their slopes, down into the in-
tervening valleys. At this moment a hundred brilliant-
plumaged choristers sent forth their morning hymns in is
lay of exquisite melody; but, as if dreading the approach
of some horrid calamity, they ceased their singing as suds
(lenly as they had commenced, and flew away, on _rapld
wings, into the impenetrable mnzes of the forest. But to-
tnlly oblivious, at first, of surrounding indications, Harbi-
eon glided along with rapid strides. Sun-up discovered
him in the vicinity of Guy Lovel's cottage. A holy quiet
reigned over the vnlley; not a sound disturbed the un-
broken solitude. 'l‘o Ilnrbison this, at length, seemed
mysterious. A few weeks previous, all there was life and
Animation; the joyous birds caroled sweetly amid the
wild luxuriance of the trees, and the song of the happy
husbundmnn ascended like an anthem of praise unto God
for his glorious bles<ings. Now the reverse of this picture
was true. This was profoundly mysterious. The more
he thought, the more he became perplexed. Could it he
that his designs Were suspected? And yet that seemed
improlmble. Ile had never revealed them to mortal mitn.
nor was mortal mun etitlowed with power to penetrate the

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THE WOODMEN. 23

'depths of his unscrupulous soul, and read its dark secrets.

He progressed step by step in the solution of the-prohlem
thus unexpectedly sprung upon him, until the incongruous
thoughts of the previous night came rushing back over his
guilty soul, accompanied by the same horrible presenti-
ment of death. To the wicked and depraved, how dread-
ful must be the consciousness of approaching dissolution,

‘when the material frame shall be resolved into its primi-

tive elements, and the immortal son], like the trembling
dove of the patriarch, shall fly away and nestle in the,
bosom of Him who gave it! Even to the pious and the
good the grave is full of terror; but to him who has per-
petrated dark deeds, and, in the plenitude of his malignant
spirit, wantonly sacrificed human life, to descend into its
cold embrace, with God’s bitterest maledictions upon
his head, it must be awful in the extreme. Punishment
that must be as everlasting in its duration as the heavens
themselves, must be his portion. And 'there can be no
hope of escape. He must endure its excruciating torments
forcvermore.

Hat-bison could not divest himselflof the painful consci-
ousness that death was about to lay its fatal hand upon
him. Every etfort to thrust it from his mind caused it. to
cling to it with greater tenacity. At last a feeling of utter
despair began to creep over him. His powerful frame be-
came fear-fully agitated; his cheeks lost their florid hue; ,
his lips Wore a livid complexion ; his eyes glittered like
those ot‘a venomous reptile, and the blue veins were distend-
ed like whip-cerd on his contracted brow. The muscles

. of his countenance worked spasmodically, and the white

foam gathered about his purple lips like flakes of driven
snow. The convulsion was but momentary, howevur; by
I powerful efl‘ort he recovered, and, with a howl of despe-
ration that sounded, ainid the sublime stillness of the
morning, like a voice issuing from the empirexot‘ the dead,
he pronounced the emphatic word—“Forward l" Utter-
ing a yell that forced the blood back in freezing currents
tn‘the heart, the Savages, headed by their ferocious and
vindictive chief, Wy-ing-wa-vha, or Hard-Heart, rushed in

  

 

26 THE WOODMEN.

a body to the front entrance of the cottage. But the in- '

mates, amongst whom were several backwoodsmen, hnvo
ing observed their approach. barred the door, and their
efforts to ,«rain ingress at the first onset proved abortive.
Nothing: (launted, however, qu'hison, being as wily as he
was ferocious and blood~thirsty, bethought him ‘of an ex.
pediont.

“ Ho! there, within 1 ” he shouted, with ill-suppressed
v rage, “will you bar your door against friends, come to
apprize you of approaching danger ?"

The rrn‘y reply was the sharp report of a rifle; and one
’of the savages, uttering a wild cry, and bounding up in the
air like a wounded stag, fell dead at his feet. A fierce
howl of "evcnge followed, and then another shrill crack
vibrated through the still air, succeeded by the fall of
another ravage, and a yell of intense satisfaction from the
thick lip", of old Ebony. He had stationed himself in ‘ an

adjacent cabin, and, catching up an old hlttnderbuss, he ,

hurled its contents amongst the assailants with mathema-
tical precision. Seeing the effects of his skill, in the ex-
cess of his delight, he Iifl'ftil’ltled a regular set-to upon the
puncheon-lloor. After finishing his laughable amusement,
he shouted, in tones of defiance. blended with exuberant
’ delight:

“ Wake, snakes, and come at me. I’se a regular-built
nigger—half-lmss, half—alligator, tipped wid (le wild-cat,
and touched wld tie painter; and anybody dat strikes dil
chile, had better strike (10 reek ob ages. Gorra Mighty,
but ifdem dare-debils of old Belzehnb don’t go off in a
jiffy from dese here premises in double quick time, dey’li
raise the (lander of dis chicken. Den let ’tun look to ‘um—
selves; 'case I ain’t gwine to he ‘sponsihle for dar hides
AB 1’s a sinner, dare's (int Iujin what I jist knock/down,
crawlin’ away in (le bushes. Now I'se gwine to hub hie
top-knot sure‘s a gun."

He threw open the door; but, instead of free egress. he

bolted into the midst of half-n-dO/zeu infuriated savages. ‘

Quick as thought,they hurled the old fellow to the earth,
sunglqu like a giant to free himself from their berculeun

 
 

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_ lontly brook such determined resistance“

   

THE WOODMEN. 27

grasp, where they efi'ectually hound him upon his back
But, if they deprived him of the power of locomotion,
they could not check the torrent of disparaging epithets

Itha't flowed from his tongue.

“ Debils oh hell, let dis chile loose once, and if I doesn't
gub you do oudasionist whoilopin’ (lot you ever saw, my
name's not Ebony! Yes. you can flourish de knife and
de tomahawk now, 'case you know I‘se helpless, Witi dose
nasty things 'bout my legs and arms, but jist undo 'um.
you gndd-for-nothin‘ cowards, and dis here is de nigger
what‘ll skin you alive, you imps ob de debil! If I does

' git' loose, I’ll pray my Heavenly Fndder (lat all ob (le

ghosts 01) de 'arth may fall on you, and tear you to
pieces wid dar sharp claws, you infernal hounds ob Old
Nick!"

_ But old Eb.’s strain of bragadocla proved utterly abor-
tive. i If it was comprehended by his ruthless captor‘s, it
was passed unheeded. They had secured him b'wond the
possibility of escape; and after regardng him a moment
with feelings in which triumph and hatred were strangely

,mingled, they moved atvay with steps as majestic as those

of an eastern emperor, to participate in another scene,
where their ferocious love of battle could be glutted to
satiety. They would have terminated the existence of the
old negro at once, but they desired a. victim, first, for the
gauntlet, and then for the fire and the stake. Their sav-
age spirits gloried,in exhibitions of this nature, and they
couhl behold the writhings of the body of the doomed
wrelch under the merciless torments, and listen ti. tin
lupientations of his spirit, with fiendish delight.
Anticipating an easy conquest, Htll'biSOll could not si-
All the fit-rec,
ungovernable passions of his nature were roused into fury.
They-gleamed forth in every lineament of his countenance.
in the frightful contortions of his frame, and in the multi-

' tude of hoarse words that rushed, like a torrent, .through

his livid lips. ,
f‘Au a’xel an axe!" he shouted, “to hatter in the
door! By the God who made me, every/sou] shall per-
‘ \

/

  

     

     
    
 
 
    
   
  
    
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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'28 THE WOODBIEN.

ish, and their scalps shall dangle as bloody trophies" at the
girdles of my red brethrenl Such insolence shall not: pass

with impunity.

The door, under the vigorous hlmvs of the axemau,

soon began to give way, and directly swungr back, with u ,

creak, upon its iron hinges, and Harbison. furious with
passion, shouted to his co-partners in deeds of Noel to
follow. All rushed in pell—mell. This gave to the he-
sieged a. great advantage; and being well-tutored in
border 'arfat'e, they plied their deadly rifles wi9h fearful
effect. But the Savages maintained their stand with ob-
stinate perseverance. Encouraged by the example of their
blood-thirsty leaders, they fought with the desperation of
demons. Their wild war-whoop, blended with the inces-
sant discharge of fire-arms, and the loud groans of the

wounded and dying. was replete with the wildest homm,
But the little hand of heroes prolonged the contest. with ,

unabated zeal. To them there was a glorious triumph even
in death. The horrid stake and the t‘agot followed close
on the heels of captivity, in those days, and rather than
yield to their ohduratr-heartt-d foemen, they Would prolong
the combat whilst life animated their bodies, and thcndie,
like genuine heroes. with arms in their hands.

Blanche Lovel. at the commencement of the battle, shut
herself up in one of the rear rooms of the cottage, where
she remained (luring its early stages, a prey to the most
poignant agony, because totally ignorant of the fate of
those whom she cherished t'ar more than life. Once she'
was tempted to break from her self-imposed imprisonment,
and ascertain, it‘ possible, their probable destiny; hut’the
continuous roar of lire-arms, and the demoniac yells ot‘ the
savages, deterred her. She wrung her hands until the
crimson hlood started from the ends of her fingers, anl
low sohs of anguish burst. continually from her lips. At
length her situation became one of extreme peril. . In the
beginningof the onset’the savages had applied the torch of
the incendiary to the house, and the large volumes o’f
flame and smoke rushing into the room threatened instant

 

 

suffocation. There was but one alternative remaining -t “

 

  

 
 

 

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THE WOODMEN. 29

Quath was behind, and hope, at least, in front. Its swwt
Voice nerved her for the step. She span}; to the door,
threw it open, and bounded into the midst of the combat-
mnts. Harbison made an effort to reach her; but Miles
Howard, who was the very life and soul of his Company,
comprehended his object, and bounded forward with great}
agilityto defeat the movmnent. In this, unfortunately,
he was not successful. Wy-ing-wa—ha, or Hard Heart,
uttering his wild war-cry in formidable tones, rushed to
the aid of Hal-bison, and, dealing Miles a tremendous blow '
with his pouderous War-club, laid him senseless and bleed-
ing on the floor. Then the work of death commenced

"with accumulated ferocity. At a gesture from their ex.

lilting leaders, the savages now rushed forward with their
horrid yells, their begrimmed and blackened countenanees

v gleaming with concent 'ated fury, their eyes ,grlitteringr with

the subtle light of (lemons, and their tomahawks and scalp-
ing knives waving above their heads like destructive me-
teors. The whites made a gallant stand, and, after a
manly struggle, beingr oVerpoWei-ed by numbers, they per-
ished. Not one of their number seemingly remained alive
to recount their mourut‘ul fate, save Blanche Level. ’l‘iiey
deserved a. nobler destiny. The scalps were instantly
ripped from the heads of the unfortunate victims, and sus-
pended at the girdles of the ruthless savages.

Human nature shudders at the recital of deeds so
barbarous and fiend-like, but, alasl they were but the
mouruful prelude to the terrible scenes that were unfold-
ing themselves in other parts of the Valley. The dark
passions of men Were quiekeued into life, and nothing
could appease them but rivers of human blood.

Harhisou now gazed upon the ruins he had made; but
instead of being seonrgcd by compunctious of conscience,
he gloried in the desolation he had wrought. IIis das-
tardly spirit could not conceive a. more exalted triumph.
His wishes and ambition were [alike gratified. He had

. obtained possession of the beautiful object of his desires,

and exterminated the last feeble remnant of her family;
and though the bleeding image of the grey—haired sire rose

 

    

30 THE WOODMEN.

up, in the majesty of his age, to the mind of the unrelent-
ing murderer, to implore compassion for the child of his
son, it awoke no chord of mercy in his indnrated soul.
His features were expressive of no other emotion than that
of the present exultation which they wore, until he dis-
appeared with his lovely captive, guarded like a criminal,
into the intervening forest. .

\Vhen.Ebony’s limbs were released from bondage, he
rose from his recumbent position, and drawing his incon-
gruous frame up, he gazed around him with a troubled
and mournful look, and his honest features gradually as-
sumed an expression of profound grief. A tear started
from the old man’s eye, perhaps the first he had shed for
years, and ran slowly down his fut-rowed cheeks.

He loved his old master with a warm affection, and he
knew that love had been reciprocated with the kindest
feelings. They had been boys together, and had shared
each other’s joys and sorrows; but the deep silence that
brooded over the dwelling, interrupted at intervals only
by the hissing and :rackling of the flames, told his heart
that his kind master was numbered among the victims that
day immoiated on the altar of savage animosity. He gazed
a moment upon the smoking ruin, and then throwxng his
arms aloft, his lips, for an instant, were seen to move,

when he exclaimed, whilst a gleam of inextinguishablev

hatred passed over the dark lineaments of his counte-
mince:

“ I solemnly pray dc Lord God ob Hosts (lat the wen-
geance ob Heahen may come down on de heads ob desl
mareiless wretches I“

Then, bowing his head upon his breast, at a motion
h'om his captors, he disappeared from sight.

 

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THE WOODMEN. ~ 81

CHAPTER V.~

———Awhile she stood,
Transformed by grief to marble, and appeared
,Her own pale monument; but when she breathed

The secret anguish of her wounded soul,

So mourning were the plaints, they would have soc thed
I‘he stooping falcon to suspend his flight.
And spare his morning prey.

 

Fanton’s Mariam

It is deeply interesting, once in a while to turn aside
from the contemplation of the bloody scenes of the pre~
sent, with its political rivalries, its social jealousies, its
pompous parade, its conflicts and its passions, and gaze
through the long vista of time into the dim, sepnlohral
light of elder years. As Incmory's talismanic power rolls
back the dark curtain of forgelfulness, the dim, shadowy
images of things that Were rise up lifelike before us. We
behold the scenes in which our fathers moved and acted,
those iron men of an iron age, before the might of whose
advancing footsteps all else was made to recede, passing
in grand review before us. We forget the present; we
see no promise in the majestic coming of events; the great,
restless, living human herd, pressing onward heedlessly
over the ashes of the glorious dead, are to us as it‘ they
had never existed; we are lost amid the mighty ruins of
the past. A primeval wilderness, untouched by the wood.
man's axe, peopled by roving bands of barbarians and

,Iavage beasts of prey; its depths but partially explored;

its great mineral wealth, yet undeveloped, slumbering in
the bowels of the earth, is spread out before the enchant-
ed gaze. Here and there, an humble log-cabin rearsitselt‘
in the sublimeywaste, its hlue smoke ascending in spiral
wreaths aboye the tall timber, imparting an appearance of

   

  

82 THE WOODMEN.

life to the dull monotony of the wilderness. In front of
the door sits its owner, a hardy pioneer, with his faithful
dog, the sole companion ol‘ his solitude, by his side, and
the murderous rifle lying across his lap. Anon, the scene
changes. The solitude of the wilderness is broken by the
long, fierce, wild war-whoop of the savage, and the crack
of the merciless rifle echoes and re-echoes through its
mighty deep. On such occasions, we grasp the pen, and,
with feeble hand, attempt to trace the picture as it rises.
It affords us pleasure, if we receive no other or more sub-
stantial recompense; besides, time flies swiftly, and the
interesting traditions our Fathers bequeathed to us must
soon disappear amid the shadows of the past, unless an
effort is made to preserve them. Those more competent
have hitherto neglected the task; and, as it behooves
Some one to make an effort to embody, in some tangible
shape, the fleeting images as they pass, we have bowed
ourselves to the undertaking, how trembling soevet‘ our
fingers may appear.

lIumbly praying forgiveness for this digression, we will
now return to our narrative.

In the last chapter we beheld IIarbison and his savage,
though less vindictive allies, disappear into the intricacies
of the forest with their captives, and we will now follow,

. or rather accompany them on their trail. Leaving tire
blazing cottage, they shaped their 'course directly north-
west, over Wills Mountain and the intervening valleys, so ‘
as to strike what is now known as Braddock’s Run. After
arriving at the banks of this secluded stream/they paused
for consultation. Blanche, completely horror-stricken at

- what she had beheld, and firmly convinced that her dear
old grandfather and Miles Howard were numbered among
the slain, raved incessantly, like a maniac. She besought
Hal-bison, in piteous tones, to kill her at once, and thus
terminate her intense wretchedncss; but. his indurated
soul was absolutely impervious to an attribute so divine as’
that. of mercy, and he only uttered a scornt‘nl laugh in re- ‘
ply. He stood listening to the earnest prayers of the un-
fortunate, captive, with the same immobility of counte-

 

 

  

   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

 

 

 

nus. damn a“ h; ,

“Pug-L flat—M, ‘unu
Mugs-3154.

  

   
   
    
   
   
 

 

  

THE WOODMEN. 33

hence that a serpent would assume whilst coiling itself in
the path to dart its poisonous fangs into the flesh of the
unwary travelwr. The infusion of the subtle fluid of a rep-

“ tile into the veins causes almost instant death, when the

suffering terminates; but the vengeance which he contem-
plated, although attended with equal agony to the sensi~
tive soul, produces a. result not less fatal, but more linger
tug and protracted. His solemn asseveration that she
should be his, if not by her own free election, then by com-
pulsiou, was recorded in burning characters upon his soul,
and he felt himself religiously bound to effectuate its
human import, now that he had obtained possession of her
person. , »
“No, no, sweet Blanche." he at length remarked, with
a mock seriousness, “it would not do to murder a crea‘
tut-é so divinely fair, I shall take you under my special
guardianship, as my own peculiar and individual property.
You are mine by an indisputable, legal right, the right of-
oonqnest; for you will recollect," and his countenance

lowed with a diabolical exn‘essiou “ 'ou will recollect
, l i

that the spoils belong to him who achieves the victory,
and a delightful home I have prepared for you, too.
Away on the beautiful banks of the Ohio, whose gentle

‘ ripplings sound like sweetest music to the ear, is your fu-

ture dwellingplace. You will appreciate it dearly for its
exquisite and romantic charms. And then I-—yes, I,
Blanche Love], I, your humble admirer, whom you dis~
carded with scorn and contempt, I will be there always
to point out its glorious beauties. That will be too much
happiness for one poor mortal, and be assured that I fully
appreciate the sacrifice you are making in acoomptnyiny,r
me. But it will promote my pleasure, and a happy time
We’ll have together, unless your dear, betrothed husband.
on whom you have thrown away the rich treasures of af-
fet-tion, should come to mar our pleasure. But, doax
Blanche, do not apprehend any danger of that kind. Hit,
ha, ha!”

“Fiend of darkness!" exclaimed Blanche. elevating
her qncenly form to its full height. and regarding him for

 

  

 

84 THE WOODMEN.

a moment with a look of supreme contempt, whilst

blush of indignation overspread her lovely features; “ ex~
ult while you may over your ignominious and‘ bloody tri-
umph; exalt that you hold line, a defenceless girl, in
bondage, whose kindred your malicious passions doomed

to destruction; but recollect, John Harbismi, recollect in,

time, that there is above us an omnipotent and an aveng-

Ing God, who will hold you to strict accountability for the

deeds this day committed.”

“That, Blanche LoVel, is all mere gammon."

“No, sir, it is true. The venerable hairs of my poor
old grandfather, the last renminiug,r remnant of my once
numerous ancestry," continued Blanche, whilst a flood of
scalding tears followed each other down her cheeks,
“cried aloud for vengeance when you struck him down at
your feet. Your ruthless and unSparing hand is crim-
soned with his life-blood, and over your head hangs- an
awful responsibility."

“Very true,” replied Hal-bison, “I did knock the old
dotard‘s brains out ; but I assumed, at the same time, all
the attendant responsibilities, every one of them.”

“Impious wretchl Have you heard of that immutable
law of God which says: ‘Whoso sheddeth blood, his blood
by man shall be shed?’ ”

“Oh, frequently, my fairest nymph, and it answers‘ ad-
mirably as a rule of~conduct for those who subscribe to its
divine origin; but I am not one of that credulous num-
ber.” .

“Dare you, sir, deny the authenticity of that holy book,
and, in the presence of God himself, affirm that his reveo
lntions are base t‘orgeries?”

"Permit me,” answered Harbison, evasively, " to say,
that I see nothing around me but lofty mountains, a path-
less wilderness and the blue sky above. The presence of
the being youspeak of is not here, unless my eye-sight
fails me.”

“God, sir, in omnipresent, and his transcendent power
and glory is written in characters of living beauty upon
the dark mantle of night; is displayed in the grandeur and
I

     

 

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35

. Inblimity of the storm-cloud, and in the luxuriant-calm of '

THE woofmnN.

the sunshine. He dwells on the mountain’s lofty crest,
and sits in the Valley beside the rushing stream. His
vengeance on those who wa ntouly lransgress His laws,

’ is us terrible as His love is unmeasured, unbounded and

free"—

“Why, I declare, the girl is becoming inspired."

‘ “It is the inspiration of truth. In that solemn hour,
when God’s flaming sword shall be suspended ouer your
head, and death, with all its many7 terrors, shall approach
to lay its fatal hand upon you, you will feel its irresistible
force, and lament, when it is too late, your scotllngs and
your obstinate incredulity. ‘You will then invr‘te His di-
vine aid to rescue you from that eternal perdition to which
you are now hastening with rapid strides."

Harbison listened to these words of Solemn import with
troubled aspect. They seemed to be uttered with a spirit
of prophecy, and as their full meaning was impressed upon ‘
his! mind, all the dark deeds of his former life seemed to -
rise up with damning distinctuess, before hisexcited facul-
ties. In the excitement of the morning, he had entirely
forgotten his unwelcome forebodings; but, at the mention
of the word death, they rushed back upon his guilty soul
’with increased violence. An unmeaniug stare settled
upon his distorted features, and he trembled with appre-
hension in every fibre of his body. His brow became

‘ fem-fully contracted; his eyes glcnmed with a wild light;

an unnatural pallor over-spread his countenance, and the
blue lips were forcibly drawn back, exposing his teeth,
through which the white foam oozed out, and gathered in
large flakes about the distorted mouth. He writhed under
the sting of conscience, like a wounded reptile, and fairly
hissed between his teeth the words—“Deathl death! .
away, thou monster of hell! Avaunti I owe no fellow-
ship to such an accursed image as thine."

He struggled hard, however, With his emotions, and‘
won suppressed them. Then, casting a glance of mingled
hatred end respect toward the high~souled girl, he walked

I

 

 

36 ’ .THE WOODMEN.

away, as if nothing unusual had occurred, and held’a. brief
consultation with the savages, I .

Blanche gazed after the retreating figure. and creasing
her hands devoutly upon her breast. and rnisiutt her dnrk,
lustrous eyes to Heaven, she murmured innutliljly: “ ‘ VLn-
genuee is mine.’ Snith the Lord.”

The same train of thought seemed to be running in the
mind of old Ebony, and when Hnrbison was out of hear-
ing, he exclaimed aloud : _

“Bless de Lord, do prayers of my heart, have been
answered. De wengeuce ot‘ IIenben is fallin‘ upon dut
crtiel mzm's hend. Him had mun, and his heart um blank
as de night. But, young Missn, our good Mnssn above
will not let the William hurt It hair 01) your lubly head.
I‘ll keep 11 sharp eye on him, and it‘I find he’s gwicn to
hurt. you, I’ll rumflusticnte him, till he c:1n't see."

“N0, Ebony," snid Blnnehe, "you must not molest
him; it would aggravate his cruelty. I plum my trust in
a higher poWer llmn man’s, with implicit Confi lence; yet I
have strong hopes that friends will follow and rescue us
from this grilling captivity. Your interference would do
no good; but, on the contrary, might have a tendency to
put his revenget‘ul passions into play, and we alone would
be the sufferers ”

"' Dnt‘s dc trnii‘, Missa; but when I fine he's gwien to
hurt you, dis ole nigger ain‘t gwieu to stand by and do
nuf‘len. I innst lay dis hnnd upon him, if I dies for it,
or ole Mussels murdered ghost would rise up to curse
me.”

This allusion to her old grandfather forced the tours
from Blunclie’s eyes. She loved him with the fond affec-
tion ot‘n daughter, and now that he was no more, that ur-
fection clung,r to his memory as the ivy clings to the girdled
Oak. protecting ita decaying truck from the storms of
henVen. '

When Hall‘biSOL drew near the group of savages. In
said:

‘-‘Wy-ing-wn-h:t is the wisest chief of tho Hurons.
There are no lies in his heart, and his tongue never travels

 

 

 

 

‘ hind the western hills.

THE WOODMEN.

on»: a crooked path. Can he tell when
the Huron will be on his trail ?”

"My White brother does not speak with a forked
tongue. Wy—ing-wa-ha is wise, and falsehood does not
live in his heart. Before the song of the nightingale is
heard, the wolf will follow the scent of the ou-pa-rt-tan-
go.‘ We must start on the home-path, and keep the eye
close to the beams of the lieu-SllCS-Wn,f where he sinks be-
The trail must he secret: as the

37

the enemies of

‘ flight of the bird through the air, or the waw-a-taw-wa—

 

ha; will find it."

“Wy-ing-wa-ha is a great warrior. Ilis counsel in
good, and his white hrother is thankful. But can the
cunning of Hard-Heart throw the long-knives on the wrong
scent?"

“ Wy-ing-wa—ha is a serpent in cunning. He will throw
dirt in the eyes of the pale-face."

To effect their ()lject, the Huron chief determined that
the bnnd should be divided into twc parties, and each
should separate and pursue a different route, to mislead
pursuers. There were still about forty savages in the
party, one of whom, with Simon Girty us their leader, now
plunged into the traekless forest, leaving a broad trail be-
hind, to attract attention. The remaining savages, with
their captivos, then stopped carefully into the stream, and,
following its ntcunderings, ware soon, lost to view in
the depths of the forest.

‘ The Elk.

f The Sun. : Scenting Fox.-

 

THE WOODMEN.

CHAPTER VI.

Harkl wh. is their—or who, at such a moment?
' Marina film

My soul is up I arms, my injured honor,
Impatient of the wrong, call for revenge—Rowe.

We are admonished of the necessity of returning to Guy
Lovel’s cottage, not for the purpose of reading a homily
upon the sanguinary scene there enacted, in order that.
man may behold, with more horrible distincmess, the
working of his depraved spirit, but to introduce addi-
tional dramatzie personae upon the bloody Crama we have
been endeavoring to portray. To depict a seine, and then
point out. the moral to the intelligent reader, is superflu-l
ous. He should adduce his own moral from the premises,
and make an application best suited to his own peculiar
tempe'ament. We desire it to he emphatically under-
stood, that we do not write alone to inculcate great 'philoT
sophical truths or wholesome morals. We have another
aim. We merely desire to illust'ate the occurrences of‘
other days, and speak of those who have long'since played
their parts upon the great theater of human life, and are
now gone where neither the censure or praise of the
living can atfeet them. Their history and mode of me,
their trials, their perils and their escapes, will alt-act
more of our attention, in our humble way, than anything
else.

After I-Iarhison and his congenial spirits had disappear-
ed into the intricacies of the woods, three individuals
glided from a thick undergrowth of bushes on the oppo-‘
Site side of the forest, and hastened toward the cottage.
wo of them appeared somewhat. beyond the prime of lite,

I

 

 
   

   
 

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THE WOODMEN. 89

£
Their unshorn beards. and the few locks of long, wiry hair
that escaped from their well-worn, coon-skin caps, were
sprinkled with flakes of snow, indicating adilanced life.
But. their muscular forms, and free, round limbs, still de-
noted the presence of great physical strength and activity,
combined with endurance. They were backwoodsmen of
the genuine stamp, as the eccentricity of their dresses fully
demonstrated. Each wore a hunting-shirt of dressed deer
skin, ornamented with a superahnndance of gaudy-colored
fringes, and leggins and moccasins of the same material.
Each carried along rifle across his slioulder,‘und in the
belt of a Wampum, encircling their waists, were suspended
a. tomahawk and sealping-knit'e. Exposureto the rude
blasts of winter, and the scorchingr rays of the sun in sum-
mer, had embrowned their features, the prevailing expres».
' sion of which, when in repose, indicated great kindness of
heart. The elder and less muscular of the two is our
~ noble-hearted old friend, David Thompson, and the latter,
the leader will recognize as the indefatigable forester,
Daniel Browning. On a former occasion, they accompa-
nied us through scenes of war and bloodshed; through
_ their instrumentality those in peril were rescued, and they
\ have again volunteered, with generous enthusiasm, in ano-
ther enterprise, equally difficult of accomplishment, and
t far more perilous.

The third was one of the noblest specimens of an Indian
warrior that ever figured in the annals of savage warfare.
His person was tall, commanding; and symmetrical in its
proportions as a reed. I-Ie vas in the early vigor of man-
hood, and moved with supreme grace and dignity.
Though uncouth in itself, his dress set off his handsome
person to great advantage. This Indian was the celebrated
Mingo Chief, Logan, called by the tribe to which he he-
longed, Sah-gah-jute, or Short Dress. His heart was the
dwelling-place of the noblest impulses of our nature, ' He

‘ never hesitated as to the proper course for him to pursue,
when a friend needed assistance. He was always ready
, to counsel, and, if necessity required it, to strike a Vigor-
_ one blow in defense of humanity. « The side of the weaker

40 THE ‘ WOODMEN.

party was Logan’s side. Many interesting legends are ex-
tent of his brilliant feats in arms. Ilis eye never failed,
whilst gleaming along the barrel of the rifle; and 11.5 lnmd
never swerved from the right line in hurling the no less
fntnl tomahnwk. On the present occnsion, his senlpvlock
was wrenthed with the feathers of the eagle. On both
sides of his countenance, alternate stripes of red and black
point were drawn, imparting to it: a look of ferocity, which
he never were, unless he was on the war-path, and across
his broad chest was a belt of Wampum, curiously embroid-
ered with beads and tufts of the gorgeous plumage of the
pnroquet, representing a couchant panther, the emblem of
the Mingol tribe. To this belt was suspended the powder—

horn and the pouch in which he carried his :unmunition‘

and jerked meat. His loggins were composed ol‘ doe-skin,
the seams of which were tléeomted with porcupine quills,
of many diti'erent colors. and smnll bits of deer hztir, dyed
with a rich crimson. His implements of war Were similar

to those of his white companions, except that, in addition ‘

to theirs, he carried a. bow and a quiver of arrows. When
he beheld the work of the IIurons, his eagle-eyes emitted
flashes of intense hatred. They bad, From time immemo-
rinl, been the inveterate and uncompromising foes'of‘ the
Mingoes, and the nohle chief emh 'thetl every opportunity
to wreak his vengeance on their heads.

As the trio approached the house, old David Thompson
remarked to his white companions:

“By the life 0' me, friend David, I believe them that
greasy cusses hev murdered all on ’em, but old Eh. and
the young gull Leastwise, none on ’em seems to be stir—
rin.’ "

_“ Well,” answered Dnniel Browning, " that‘s aceordin"
to the nntur’ 0‘ them thnr imps 0' blackness. They lmin't
nutnneis like a ginnine white gentleman, they hnin‘t. I
tell you, Dnvld Thompson, them as lives in these here
woods should alwnys hcv thnr eyes skinned for the wild
vurrnints, ’cnse why, they hatin’t no mercy. Now, that'-
jist the \\':ty.\\'itlt them that ’tarnnl blood-thirsty Huro'ns.
They butcher white folks in Cold blood, without one tar-

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THE WOODMEN.

nation bit 0’ consarn, and chuckle over it as an all-fired
great performance, they do. But if them chaps as did
this (lirty work don't hear the how] 0‘ old Blazer," he con-
tinued, patting his long rifle, whilst his deep grey eyes
sparkled with resentment—“ but if them chaps as did this‘
dirty work don’t hear the howl 0' old Blazer, atwixt this
and to-morrow mornin'; then I'm a. nigger, that’s sartain,
and my name's not Dan e1 Browning.”
“Your hand on that,” exclaimed David, extending his
horny list to his indignant companion, "‘t‘or i run with
' you thar, with a. heart that never flinches in time 0' dan-
ger. ‘ Blanche Lovel‘s a nice little gal, and we'll rescue
her from them thar Injins, or lose our scalps in the at-
tempt. The redskins must be sarcnmwented in thar div-
iltry, or the etarnal rapsenllions will take all afore ’em
More a. great while. They must be sarenmwented. But
what says our red brother? Will he push for the trail 0'
his enemies, the Hurons ?" ,
“Will the panther run from the scent of blood ?"' inter-
' rogated the Chief, whilst every lineament of his swnrtliy
countenance glowed with intense excitement. “ Will the
hank fly from the sparrow, when he hears his song in the
bush? Logan is for the war—path. The Herons are dogs,
and their sealps must hang in the Wigwam. They trem-
ble when they hear the war-whoop of Mingo. When he
is‘ on the war-path, Mowhinin“ follows to gnaw the flesh
from the bones of his enemies."
‘5 Logan's a great Chief,” replied David Thompson;
“‘his fame has followed the flight 0' the pigeon from the
'frozen hills 0’ the North, to the green glades away at the
mnutlLof the Mississippi, and from the East to the prairies
lof’ths West. When he speaks, the curs of Chiefs are
Open." _ . \
The Mingo made no audible reply, but with a solemn
gesture pointed toward the blazing ruins. The quick ear
- of the Chief had detected an almost inaudible groan, and
the three sprang forward together, rushed into the burn-

‘ The Wolf.

 

"

l

42 THE WOODMEN.

lug building, the light and combustible material of which
was becoming ignited throughout its whole extent, and in
a moment re—appeared, hearing Miles Howard in their
arms. The flames had not reached him in the short space
of time he had remained upon the floor; and as soon as
he was ainveyed into the open air, he recovered. The
war-club of Hard-Heart had only stunned him;' fortu-
nately, and by some means or other, he had escaped the
scalping—knife of the savages, but whether designedly tra-
dition saith not.

When Miles recovered, he shook his preset-vet's cor-
dially by the hand; but knowing how much they disdain-
ed expressions of gratitude, he refrained from avowiug the
thanks with which his heart was filled.

We will not endeavor to present an adequate portraiture
of the deep feelings of anguish he manifested at. the~ intel-
ligence of Blanche’s abduction. He knew lIarhison to be

an unrelenting and vindictive wretch, whose unscrupulous '

soul wduld willingly resort to the basest means to accom-
plish his designs, and his apprehensions for her safety
were intense. If he succeeded in carrying her ofl‘, and

it"stil'l persisting in her refusal to become his bride, she ,

should accidentally give offence, Miles felt convinced that
all the accumulated maliguity of his nature would be
hurled upon her devoted head. In a moment of passion,
he might give her over to the fagot and stake—the most
horrid and exquisite cruelty that savage ingenuity could
devise. The thought was madness, yet he here it with
manly fortitude. A multiplicity of difficulties calls forth
the latent energies of man‘s character. This remark is not
leSs true in itself than in its application to Miles. Hr
seemed undetermined, until his mind comprehended tin
dangers and diificultics of his position. Then his indea

sion was cast aside, like a useless garment, and in a mo

Inent he found himSelf equal to the emergency. 'He do
cided upon instantaneous pursuit; by that means alour
could the evil consequences of Harhison’s malicious pas;
lions be averted. When he announced ’his determination,
a: shout of concurrence greeted his words.

. l

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;.

 

~ «

 

THE WOODMEN. 43

The shout had scarécly (lied away amongst the adja-
cent hills, until they were startled by the prolonged, and,
to them, joyous war-cry of those celebrated mountain ran-
gers, called the Red Caps, organized from the ranks of
the frontier-men by Colonel Thomas Cresap. for the pro-

~tection of the inhabitants along the northern branch )f' the
Potomac. Colonel Uresap is well known in the history of
Maryland, for the Conspicuous part he played in the C mn-
jacular war—his adherence to the cause of Lord Balti-
more has almost grown into a proverb—and also, for be-
ing the first man who possessed the hardihood to settle in
the wilds of the Alleghany mountains. He was a man of
indomitable energy. In his eightioth year, he conceile
a project for exploring the country lying west of the Mis-
sissippi to the Pacific oeean, about the practicability of
,which he had no doubt, when death put an end to his
plans. In his day he stood prominent for his consum-
mate skill in Indian warfare. So notorious and distinc-
tive was his courage, that the savages called him Eris.
Waha-nee, or Bi},r Axe, to denote the character of his onsets.

The war-cry of the Red Caps was answered by Miles
and his companions with a. shout of intense delight. There
were about fifteen in the company on the present. occasion,
and such a large and unexpected acquisition of strength
was an infallible presage of success. Their dress was com-
posed of a linsey-woolsey hunting shirt, dressed deer-skin
luggins, and moccasins of a coon-skin cap, with the tail
hangingr down his brlck, and the grinning jaws looking out
in front over the forehead. Eucircling this singular and
unique cap, was a narrow belt of scarlet cloth, from which
they durived the name of Red Caps. Most. of them were
young men of athletic proportions, who had been reared
in the wilderness, far beyond the boundaries of civiliZed
lociety, had experienced all the hardships of b'H'det‘ life,

- , and were inured to all the perils of border warfare. As
soon as the customary salutations were exchanged, they
struck the trail of the savages, and followed on with light
and buoyant spirits, each vowing summary vengeance

' Igainst Harbison and his bloodthirsty coadjutors.

 

THE WOODMEN

CHAPTER VII.‘

Bo passed they on o'er J udah's hills—Heme“.

Aimed welt/the chief‘tain’s lance has flown,
‘ Struggling in blood the savage lies;
His roar is sunk in hollow groan-
Sound, merry huntsmenl sound the pryse!
Cudyon Castle.

We have seen that, after Girty and his band had
plunged into the forest, IIarbison and the renmining sav-
ages, with their captives, stepped carefully into Braddock
Run. They followed its meanderings i‘or sovornl miles,
the hindmost setting his foot with nice precision into the
track of his predecessor. After traveling as far as they
thought it expedient in the stream, they came to a flat
rock, projecting out into the water. upon which each one
stepped, then on the bank, thus leaving no trace whatever
behind to indicate the course pursued. ‘

Blanche obswved this precaution with the keenest np-’
prehension. She now felt convinced that'she was doomed ‘
to a long and protracted captivity. Her Feelings were uua
enviable. To be_compelled to endure the society of her
uni‘eeling persecutor; to be which at all times, to the an-
noyances of his presence, and forced to listen to his dis-
gusting compliments; or, what was worse, perhaps, hi3
heartlem upbraidings, and still worse, his curses and bruw
tel treatment, filled her mind with terror. Her friends
could not rescue her, unless by a mirrtcle‘ wrought in he:
fuvm', because all clue as to the direction taken Lg her
captor, or as to their destination, was efi'eclunlly oblite-
rated. 'She felt greatly embarrassed. She knew not how

to act, or whet course of conduct it would be proper ‘for V ‘

her to pursue. But her mind rose \with the occasion. An!

 

THE WOODMEN. 45 ‘

expedient for the emergency was soon devised. Her cap-
tor had made a halt on the bank, and she rcturnel to the

stream, as if for the purpose of quenching her thirst, and,

unobserved by the Savages, drew a rude arrow on the
rock with a, soft stone, its head pointing toward the W est,
thus furnishing a key to the direction pursued by the sav-
ages. Then tearing a shred from her kerchief, and sus-

pending it to a twig, growing out of the bank, she glided
back with lighter spirits. Hope. sweet prophetess, held
forth promises of a brighter hour. Alas! how often do
we poor creatures of this heartless and uncharitable world

mourn their utter blight! Our most glorious anticipa-
tions are the soonest ground to dust by disappointment,

that ponderous machine, that leaves nothing in its deso-
late wake but the melancholy memorials of what we

longed, and strived, and battled for. But, perhaps, it is
better that it should be sn. If all 'our day-dreams Were

realized, and our desires gratified, we would never know

when to eireuniseribe them. One of man's constitutional
inibccilities‘is always to want, and unless these wants after
some imaginary good are checked, they will go on increas-

ing ad ia/im‘mm. ,

\Vlu-u Blunt-he approached the savages, Wy-iug-wa-ha,
or llard-llvart, whose dark eyes glistened with undis-
guised admiration, asked, as he drew forth a. piece of
jerked venison from his pouch:

“is the beautiful pale-face maiden hungry? Eat, it is
good.” '

“The pale-face maiden will not receive food from the
hand that is red with the blood of her people.”

“Ugh!” exdaimed the Chief‘, replacing the venison in
his pouch, evidently offended at her refusal. “The pale-
faces were the red man's enemies. They are numerous as
the leaves of the forest. ’l‘hey force the red man back to-
ward the regions of the settingr sun, far away from the
hunttngvgrounds of his fathers. The clearings of the pale-
faees are on the consecrated graves of his people. He he-
holds this, and a dark cloud comes before his eyes. He
,eannotbehold the face of the Great Spirit, for he is angry

 

46 THE WOODMEN.’ , ’
with his red children.
the buriedtomahawk. Then His face brightens with a
pleasant smile, and the Huron braves go on the war-path.
The)r take many scalps. The song of rejoicing is hushed
in the lodges of the pale-faces.” ‘.

Saying this, Hard-Heart shook his bloody trophies he« '

fore her eyes, whilst his swarthy features glowed with ex-
ultation. Blanche shuddered at the sight of the reeking
scalps. Amongst them she beheld the venerable locks of

To appease his wrath,,they dig up,

 
   

her kind-hearted old grandfather, whom she had loved‘

with a deep and abiding affection. In childhood he had
(landled her upon his knee, and sung the sweet, soothing

lullaby which she had never heard from a mother's lips. »

IIer earliest recollections were associated with his benevo-
lent countenance, and now that he was numbered amongst
the silent dead, and his fatherly voice hushed in that
solemn quietude that lives about the last sad resting-place
of man, her grief grew almost insnpportable. And Miles
Howard, too, the dear idol of her heart’s worship, whom
she had loved with the concentrated feelings of a high-
souied and noble woman, and around whom clustered all
her bright anticipations of happiness upon this earth, he,
too, was hurled senseless and bleeding to the floor before
her eyes, and, in all human probability, before this his elea
gent form, charred and blacked by the fire, was smoulder-
ing amid theruins of her house. These thoughts arose
with horrible distinctness before her mind, and she be’
moaned his fate with feelings akin to madness. But she,
poor stricken one, smothered the intensity of her grief
from the eyes of her ruthless captors. Like one who
places an implicit reliance upon the goodness and mercy of
Him who has said that He would be a fttther to the father-
less, she bore all with noble fortitude.
chief, she said: ,

“The pale-faces would be the red man's friends, but
he disdains their friendship. He applies the burning
torch to their dwellings, and burdens his heart to the
prayer for mercy. He is a snake, that coils himself in the

Turning to thc’

 

 

 
  
 
 
 
  

   
 
 
 
   

    

   

 

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  

 

47

path of the pale-face. But my people shall trample upon
the necks of the red men.”

' The Heron’s eyes emitted flashes of savage resentment,
’and, as he replied, he laid his hand significantly upon the
handle of his scalping-kuife.

“ The pale-face maiden knows how to boast. She is a
singing-bird, and speaks with a forked tongue. The war-
path of the Huron warriors is strewn with the curses of
the pale-faces. They are sparrows, that fear the swrmp
of the hawk The Huron braves are migth on the war-
pnth. The hurricane is not more destructive in its wrath
than the arm of the red man: A few more moons. and
the long-knives will disappear like the yellow leavus of
the forest in autumn. The whites must all die. None
will remain amongst them, hut friends of the red men."

“That,” exclaimed old Ebony, “is not true. red-skin.
White folks,” said he, with indignation, “am gemmen;
you red-skins am hounds, thieves, murderers, villains. I’s
not white, but I takes dar part, and if you isn’t satisfied
wid dat,jist come at me single—handed, and I‘ll guh you
de (lebil in doulile~quick time, you infernal image of old
Belzehub.”

Eb. might as well have spoken to the whistling winds.
An angry glance, and a motion of the hand, indicating that
if he did not preserve silence, his scalp would pay the for-
feit. was the only notice his speech provoked. Hard.
Heart, after bestowing a glance full of contempt and lnlred

THE WOODMEN.

. upon Blanche, showing that her words had made an un-

favorable impression upon him. and were now raukliog in
his Savage heart, ready to burst forth at the first auspi-
cious moment, strode away with that. supreme grace and
dignity so eminently characteristic of the North Ameri-
can Indians.

Ina few moments they resumed their journey toward
the West. Their march was toilsome in the extreme.
Around them was a magnificent forest, clothed with the
“acre and yellow leaf” of autumn; here, presmting the
richest crimson tints ,imaginahle; there, burnished wilh
yellow and gold; and further on, the blool red cone of

     

  

48 THE woonnnN. ,‘ v
the suinaeh lifted itselt‘in pride above the less brilliant
dyes of the witch-hazel and sassafras. Before them, as far
the eye could reach, a succession of blue hills, whose tall
peaks, crowned with decaying venture, and reaching one
above another to an immense altitude. rose upon the vision.
At a distance, their aspect was truly grand and imposing.
Their bold and jagged crests, here crowned with an im-
mense growth of lightning-seamed and blasted pines, there

with a flourishing group of gigantic oaks, whilst »far boo,

yond, stupendous columns of gigantic rock, their bald
heads bleached by the storms of a thousand years. rearing
thentselVes like huge ramparts high up towards the clouds,
are replete with grandeur and sublimity.

These hills compose links in the chain of that lofty se-
ries of mountains, stretching diagonally across the United
States, known as-the Alleghanies. They are the line se-
parating the waters that flow into the Atlantic from those
flowing into the Gulf of Mexico.

Toward night they reached the apex of the savage
mountain, 9. ,wild and desnlate region of country, inhabited
alone, to this (lay, by venomous reptiles and fermions and

untamable animals, and, giving way to the' feelings of her

overcharged heart, Elanche burst into tears. Hitherto,

'

hope had sustained her, but even that now had. departed. ,

She looked back over the rugged hills she had ascended,
far away toward the east, where her once happy home
existed. She thoughtof the loved andthe lost, and a feel-
inp,r of utter desolation crept over her. She gazed long and
wisli‘ully toward her home, and then bade adieu to civi-
lized life, for she was now far beyond its western boun-
dary; and as the golden radiance of the sun descended
behind the western hills, she disappeared in the boundless
wilderness. ‘ / I

As the shadows of night began to thicken around them,
they approached Savage River, a wild mountain stream,
rising in a low, wet region of country, called the Gran-
berry Swamp, which, running directly South. over innu-
merable rocks and frightful precipices, forms a boiling and
bounding torrent, that thunders through the dark chasm?

 

    
 
 

 

 

 

 
   

 

 

 

 

   

  

\

THE WOODMEN.

and rents in the mountains, like the roar of a thousand

pieces or ordnance. Its course is traced through a mag«

nificent range of woodland, famous for its gigantic growth

of white pine and hemlock, whose evergreen foliage, in \

r the winter time, presents a bountiful contrast to the leat‘r

less branches of the chestnut, sugar-maple and other forest
timber. This stream is also noted for the great number
,of speckled trout its waters afford to the lovers of the pis-
catnry art. and for the ,almost impenetrable tlnc'stets of
rhododendron that grow spontaneously along its precipi-
tous banks.

Het‘e the savages made preparations for passing the
night. They selected a spot close under the base of the
mountain, where a huge pious alba extended its wide-
spreading arms, so as to protect. them from the cold dew.
They quickly kindled a fire, and. after despatching their
meal ofjerked meat, and taking a few whith of tobacco-
smokc, which they first puffed up to the sky, and then to
the earth, to propitiate the Good and Evil Spirit, each
savage drew his blanket around him, and seated himself
upon the ground. They seemed to he in fine spirits, and
congratulated each other upon their respective exploits
with undisuuisetl manifestations of delight. One of the
prominent characteristics of an Indian warrior is, that he
never, in the presence of a stranger, exhibits any external
signs of the internal workings of the mind. But there are
times when the stern expression of the countenance re-
laxes, a pleasant smile plays about the compressed lip, and
each passing emotion of the heart is impressed upon the
features. He then becomes a social being, and couverser
freely with his companions. This is usually the case af-
ter the return of a party from a successful foray into the
enemy’s country. The daring exploits of each are com.
mented upon, and the tneed of praise measured out with o
liberal share of words. .

After the topics of conversation had been exhausted,
each one stretched himself full length upon the earth, and
to a brief space of time sunk away into a profound slum-
ber, But. how soon was that deep repose, “ tired Nature's

    

  

/5O ' THE WOODMEN.

sweet: restorer, balmy sleep," to be exchanged for the

noise and tumult of the conflict, and then for that oppres—

sive and heart-sickening stillness that prevails over the

,last' sacred resting-place of the material body of man!

Truly, the ways of Providence are inscrutable! To-day,

man litres in the pride and strength of consummate man-

hood; to-morrow the Angel of Death approaches, and,

like a withered and blasted oak, he is shorn 01’ his
strength, the vital principle departs, all that is material
resolves itself into its primitive elements, and the immor-
tal soul, which the Great: Sovereign of the universe
breathed into his nostrils, like the trembling dove of the
patriarch, flies away to that hallmvetl mansion where He

presides as High Priest of the Sanctuary, and consecrates'
to immortal love the offered vows of his votaries.

The horrors of that day had created too deep an imc ‘
pression on the mind of Blanche Lovel to be forgotten in
sleep. She sat with her head leaning against a tree, to
which her unfeeling captors had hound her, to prevent her
escape; and the woshegone and troubled appearance ,of
her beautiful countenance indicated nothing but intense
bitterness of heart. The sweet dream of her life was for-
ever ever, and darkness—the deep, excruciating darkness
of despair-—had enveloped her in its sable mantle. Earth
had lost its brightest charm; the fond anticipations of her
young and guileless heart were to meet no triumphant
realization; the glorious sunshine, which had hitherto de-
scended in brilliant showers around her pathway through
life was displaced by dark and threatening clouds, and she
dared not lift the veil of the future and 'look on the dis-
tant shores of time, at the dim, shadowy images 01' things
to be. All there appeared dark, unrelenting and ter-
rible. x

Old Ebony was also bound to a tree, close to the side
of Blanche, and so tight were the ligatures around his
limbs, that he could scarcelv move; but his tongue was
fl‘Ce,18nd whilst he could’ “inverse with his young mis-
rdress, Eb. was satisfied. ’

“Missa Blanche, set JuW rte-3: 'iar debils sleeps. Dem

 

 

THE WOODSIEN. \ 51

flat know nuffen would tink dey was innocent as eabes,
and dat (le blood 0b de children lob my Heahenly Fodder
was not on dar hands. But I secs de eleven foot ob_Satlu
in eberyting (ley dose."

“Yes, Ebony,” said Blanche, “they are cruel men,
and God alone can see the result of our captivity. I so.
lemnly invoke His divine interposition in our behalf. He
' is the foundation of all goodness, as he is the source ofall
wisdom. If it be His will that his children should suffer, ‘
they should submit with becoming resignation." ‘

“But is all werry good, Missa, but when de heart am
set on do home, among de friends, (le Massa Guy and do
Massa Miles, and all ob dem, de spirit am an alien, as do
preachers say, from de Commonwealt ob Israel, and
wants to be dar, too. Dem unmarciful children ob do
ebil sarpent murdered ’um; but ole Eb. wants to be dar,
if Missa Blanche ‘could git away from dem Injins and go
aid him." .

“ Alas! Ebony, I have no home, no kindred, no
friends! I am, indeed, a wanderer, a homeless wanderer
upon the face of the earthl I have not where to lay my
aching head! But I humbly confide in Him who has said
that He would temper the blast to the sham lamb."

“Bless de Lord, Missa Blanche, Ehony’s your friend.
He ain’t gwien to leave you, till he dead."

\ Blanche made no reply, and the head of the good old
negro, in a. short period, ‘fell upon his breast, and in a
brief space of time he was fast asleep. Happy he that can
repose calmly and sweetly when surrounded with a multi-
tude of dangers and difficulties. Blanche meditated long,
and prayed solemnly for strength to triumph over her sor-
rows. She cast her tearless eyes up toward the deep blue
sky, where a. thousand glittering diadems sparkled on the
dark brow of Night. and as she gazed upon their calm rs-
.diance, she grew more resigned to her fate. Their serene
efl'nlgence seemed to infuse a new ray of hope into her
despunding heart. She had long indulged in this medita-
, tive mood, when a drowsiness began to creep‘ over her
faculties. The roaring water, plunging madly OVci‘ preeio

 

5‘2 ‘ ' Tun- WOODMEN.

pices, and rushing, like is perturbed spirit, among the
rocks, produced 3 tmnqnilizing effect upon her nerves.
The trees danced away before her eyes, grew indistinct,
and then faded in the distance. Then the sweet chirp of
a cricket, and the hum of innumerable insects, blending
harmoniously together, acted like a soothing melody, and
she sunk away into :1 troubled sleep.

Then Wy-ing-wa—ha, or Hard-Heart, rose noiselessly at I
a panther from his recumbent position, gazed cautiously
around him, and clutching his seaming-knife convulsively*
in his right hand, be advanced toward her. His bmu‘ny
chest henved with contending emotions; his dark eyes
emitted sparks of consummate hatred, and his dusky brow
gathered into an ominous frown. The incuutious words
that fell from her lips in the morning had stung him to the
soul, and were now runkling deep in his savage breast.
From the moment he had ittld his hand so significantly
upon his knife, the fell design of taking her life had en-
tered his heart. Nothing but her blood could soothe his“
resentment. The moment was propitious t‘orthe accom-
plishment of his hellish designs. The whole band were
locked in slumber; none were there to oppose or frus-
trate his object. 110 could commit the bloodydeed, glide
back to his position amongst the inmrnnte fiends around
him, and thus avert suspicion from himself. But. an eye
was upon him—m smnil, sparkling black eye, that never
for a moment ceased to observe his slightest movement.
It peered out from a cluster of bushes, where its owner
lay concealed, quiet as the silver rays of the moon on the
tops of the trees above his head.

, Hard—Henri. gazed a moment upon his innocent and um
conscious victim, and a gleam of malicious triumph passed
ovul‘ his uncouth features. Then he raised the glittering
steel above his head, and one long, bony hand, still crim-
soned with human blood, was extended toward the unfor-
tu‘nute girl. But at that moment: ‘she moved, her lips
ported, and she breathed in tenderest accents the name of
Miles. “Miles, dear Miles," she murmured, “save me,
'ohl save me from this cruel destiny." And then her arms

I

 

V

THE WOODMEN. 53

were extended, as if in supplication ; and then, asif a new
light had burst upon her, she exclaimed, in a voice of tho' 1
deepest agony. “Alas, alas! he‘ is no more!" The sav-
age looked a moment into her sweet, innocent face, and
again a gleam of ferocity lit up every lineament"of his
swarthy and hegrimmed features. ‘

“The pale-face maiden," he mused, “is as beautiful as
the stars of the night. Her countenance is as lovely as
the smile of the morning, when the dew-drop gems the

‘ flower. Her voice is melodious as the music of the silver
wave. Her motions are gracent as the swaying reeds.-
Her step is as elastic as that of the wild fawn of the moun-
tain. But the paleeface maiden must die. My white
brother must hunt another squaw. Her words are full of
melody, but the sting of the wasp is concealed beneath. ‘
The pale-face maiden has darted its poison into the red
man's heart. It burns like a living Coal of fire. Wy-ing-
wa-ha thirsts for her blood, to wash the indignity from his
son]. She must die." A
, Then again the murderous weapon was raised aloft,
and again the hand, red with human gore, was stretched
forth to clutch the victim in its relentless grasp, when the
report of a rifle rang out in startling distinctness upon
the still air, and Wy-ing-wa-ha, hurling his knife full at
the breast of Blanche Lovel, and bounding up several feet
from the earth, fell back by her side, uttering with his last
breath the terrific war-whoop of the Hurons. A moment
more, and the surrounding darkness was lit up with the
' continuous flash of fire-arms, whilst the wild yell of con-

tending foes, fiercely struggling for the supremacy, rever-
beratcd along the clefts and hollows in the mountains, like
the voices of a thousand exulting demons. , \

Ebony's brain, for a moment, was a chaos of confusion;
but, quickly collecting his scattered senses, he compro-
hendcd in an instant what was transpirng around him,
and shouted at the top of his voice:

“Gum den) imps ob de region ob perdition, who waits
on do Drag-gun widwhis hundred tales, gum ’um de debit.
‘Uah no mercy on 'um. Dey‘s black’hcarted rascals, dey

 

  

/

 

    

54 . THE! WOODMEN.‘

is, and hub dealms wid the ehil sarpent. Dey tied dis ole
nigger to de tree, "case dey ‘fraid he gwien to’scape. Dat's
right, gum it to ’um. Yah, yah, yah! Wake snakes!
Yah, yuh, yahi ‘

“Great ghosts and hobgoblins
Hub come down from de skies,
To frighten de wicked,
And to scratch out dar eyes.

“Gorramighty! how it pleases dis ole sinner to see
'um run and howl! ’Forc dc Lord, I b‘leeve dey tink do
ghosts and hobgoblins um ’bout, sure enough. Wake,
snakes! de world's a floatin’. Yah, yah, yah!"

Leaving old Eb. to indulge in his irresistible flow 6r
spirits, we will turn to another scene.

CHAPTER VIII.

As Chief who hears his warder call,

“To arms! the foeman storms the wall!"
The antlered monarch of the waste

Sprung from heathery couch in haste—Scott.

Without a moment's hesitation, the pursuing party
plunged into the pathless woods. A desire to recover
Blanche Love], and inflict a punishment on her captors,
commensurate with the heinousness of their offence, stimu-
lated them to extraordinary exertions. The ditficul ies of
Wills Mountain were soon surmounted, and as the au-
tumn sun reached its meridian height they stood 'upon it!
towering eminence, gazing towards the West, where the
outlines of the distant mountains, rearing their lefty heads
majestically one above another in regular gradation, and.
clothed in purple and gold livery, Were distinctly traced
against the deep-blue sky. They stood for several mo-‘
menu, contemplating the beauty and magnificence of the

, ‘

TIIE WOODMEN. 55

scene before them, when they were roused by the fierce
and threatening howl of a pack of wolves in pursuit of
their prey. They could distinctly hear the brush crack,
as though some annual was madly rushing through them,
and as the chase approached, the feet of the flying beast.
were heard heating, the earth with great rapidity. Directly
a noble buck, with antlers lying back, sides saturated with
' ‘ lflakes of foam, tongue Inlling out, and big tear-drops of
agony streaming from his distended and blood-shot eyes.
oburst at a single bound into view. The next moment,
with the velocity of the wind, the gallant “monarch of the
waste," had cleared the intervening space where they
stood, and disappeared in the neighboring thicket. 0n

' came his relentless pursuers :

“Cruel as (bath, and hungry as the grave,
Burning for blood, bony, gaunt and grim,”

dashing through the forest like a pack of fiends, at each
bound uttering e ferocious howl, and fairly ripping up the
earth with their impetuous and headloqu speed. The ad-
jacent mountains caught up the angry yelps, and it seemed
as though a thousand infuriated demons were calling to
each other from their cloud-cleaving summits. The
young hunters, commisserating the fate of the noble ani-
mal. and wishing to rosette him from his and destiny, \
whilst they, at the same time. gratified a secret desire to
exhibit. their consummate skill with the rifle, took their
stand immediately in his wake. On came the yelping
crew with the speed of the whirlwind. Closer and closer
v they approach:

s

t “‘Vitli their long gallop, which can tire
The deer-lmund's hate, and the hunter’s fire,"

until the foremost of the pack, a trememlons grey wolf,
sprang with the velocity of an arrow into the open'space.
, instantly the clicking of a dozen rifles was heard, hut at
that moment the voice of Logan arrested their purpose. ,

 

 

 

"l‘llE WOODMEN.

“ Do not my white hrothcrs know that the report of I
ritie is heard for many miles! . The ears of the Huron are
open. They will tlylike the. deer when he hears the twang
of the bow-string. Let my white brothers take down

56

their rifles, or the report will make the Huron run with .

the speed of the antelope." .
/ “Logan is right,” interposed Colonel Cresap. “The
report ‘ot'a gun in the wilderness, at this time, might make
a longr war-path for us.” -

“Yes,” mhhd Daniel Browning, “you‘re right there,
Colonel; and if the sliulkiu' reptiles diskiver we are on
their trail, and that thnr‘s no chance to git away with the
gal, they'll be mighty apt to tnmalmwk her for her scalp,
they will. Experience, in my skirmishes with the artful
serpents, has learned me that much, it. has, or the sun
doesn't set over yonder mountain."

This convorsulion continued but a moment, and bei'ore
the entire pack had penetrated the open space referred to,
Logan had drawn his good locust. how from his back, an
arrow from the quiver, and directly the sharp twang of
the string was heard, and the fatal arrow dispatched on
its mission of death. It struck the foremost beast in the
"3211' 0f the shoulder, and, penetrating to the heart, fasten-
ed ilS cruel burl) into its Vitals. He gave a few headlong
bounds. snapping the while with great ferocity at the art
TOW Still buried in his side, and then tumbled over, and
fltflcl' a few convulsions—the lust efforts of expiring nature
10 Preserve her vital t‘unctions—gavo up the ghost. An
ominous howl succeeded, and the‘u'hole pack, numbering
Some twenty, scampered off as fast as their bufllel rage
“'“lild permit them in a contrary direction.

When they resumed their march. Colonel Cresap re—
quested David Thompson and Dmiel Browning to keep a
little in advance of.them, on the trail, as they were ac-
customed to the, truckless wilderness, and understood the
nature of the expedients, and could easily unravel the
strainer-ms which an experienced Indian warrior would de<
Vise to mislead pursuit. '

“It‘ so he," replied David, “you‘re all willie" We'll

. \ .

  

  

THE WOODMEN. 57

try what virtue thar ar’ in our old peepers on an Indian
‘trail. ‘Ve'Ve follered many a greasy Huron, the cusses,
and if we haven‘t larnvd how to saroumwent the cunnin’
wax-mints in their deviltry"—

“Why, then,” chimed in Daniel Browning, “we ar’
triggers. and don't know nothin’ about the natnr' o‘ a red-
skin, that's all! But here's Bradrloek’s Run, and Ikinder

{presume the thievin' imps hev tried all their cnnnin' con-
traptions to throw us on the wrong scent. Now, I wish
I may be doubled up and squeezod to death in the hug o’
"a three year oltl b’ar, if they hevn’t left a trail behind ’em
a city gent mout t‘oller.”

“Not so fast, friend Daniel," David replied; “perhaps
the eternal rogues hev been cuttin’ up some 0' thar good-
for—nothin' tricks hereahonts. That trail isn‘t nat‘ral to
the eye. It‘s too broad by a mighty sight. Injnn cun-
nin‘ can‘t deceive the lnrnin' o’ a white gentleman that‘s
been brought up to that artful ways, in that kind 0'
style. I‘ll try the creek ; for I‘m mightily mistaken in my
idee o‘ the matter, it‘ they hevn't taken water. Leastwise
I'll see."

‘ “Perhaps the imps hev," replied Daniel, not a little
nettled that his sngacity in such matters should be ques-
tinned; “ perhaps they hev, for the ugly creatures in" net’-
rnlly amphihions." 1:

David Thompson hastened to the banks of the stream,
and in a moment shouted hack to his companions:

“'l‘he warmints couldn’t fool an old hunter; he seen
the snows 0' too many winters, and sarcumwented thar
deviltry in too many skrimmnges for that. See thar, Co-
lonel," he Continued, pointing to the margin of the stream,
“see thar, what“ one .0‘ the sneakin' warlets slipped off
this rock in the mud. That's the full print 0’ his mot:-
ciisin. Ah l. I see, the Mingo don’t think much of his skill
m hidin' a trail.”

“The Huron is a dog." was the sontentions reply of
Logan, and the ‘parly hastened forwan om the trail with
rapid strides. . An hour's wnlk brought them to the spot

‘Irhere the savnges hsz abandoned the stream, and the

/

 

, /

58 THE WOODMEN; ' ' .

eagle-eyes of the Mingo Chief immediately detected the
arrow drawn upon the rock, and David, stepping forward,

exhibited, with a smile of exultation, the shred of the

kerchiet' which Blanche had suspended from the twig land
handed it to Miles.
chr again, and, littering a silent prayer for her safety, he
secreted it in his bosom. "

They struck the trail immediately, which, feeling per.
fectly secure from pursuit,‘ the savages took no pains to
Conceal. They bounded forward with renewed energy,
and in a few hours had sealed the natural ramparts of the
Savage Mountain. a huge mass of earth and rock, towering
up in the wilderness like some colossal giant in olden
tith amid his less majestic and imposing associates. The
shades of night began to gather around them, and it re-
quired a great deal of patient persevorancc to follow the
trail; but the tact of the old forester-s, aided by the expe-
rience ot‘ Logan, surmounted all difficulties.

Forming in single file, they cautiously descended the
rugged face of the mountain, parting the thick underhrnsh
with their hands, and easing them back to their natural
positions, so as to create as little noise as possible. They
were convinced that the savages had encamped at the
base of the mountain, and their progress was extremely
slow and wary. Great circumspection was necessary, for
the least noise, the springith hack of a bush, or the snap-
ping ofa twig, might have proved disastrous to the object
ofthcir mission. After progressing in this manner for
some time, the Mingo Chief, who was a little— in advance
of the rest, stooping down, and peering through the thick
undergrowth for a moment, uttered a scarcely audible
“Hist!”

They gathered silently around him, each one clutching
his deadly rifle with nervous impatience. They felt that
the contest—a contest that, in all human probability,
might prove fatal to some of them—was close at hand,
and, like high-mettled steeds, checked by the vigorous
arms oftheir riders, they fairly chat‘ed and foamed to es-

Ile pressed his lips upon it over and

lay their powers. A glance in the direction indicated by /

   

 

 

..

 

 

    

 

' called forth, and all the deep, unfathomable love which

  

THE WOODMEN.

the extended hand of the Mingo, revealed the ohjeets of
their pursuit, grouped around a huge fire, their savage
visages gleaming in the broad glare with an expression
of most profound complacency.

CHAPTER XI.

Be patient till midnight. Get your masters,
And bid our friends prepare their companions;
Set all in readiness to strike the blow—Byron.

They fought, like brave men, long and well,
They piled the ground with Moslem slain;
They conquered—hut Bozzaris fell,
Bleeding at every vein.—IIallcck.
I

They stood for several moments silently gazing upon
'.he unsuspecting savages, but not a word fell from their
compressed lips—not a limb moved, so intenSo. was their
(luck. Nothing was heard for some time but their sup
pressed breathing; nothing indicated life about them, but
their erect position, the occasional twitching of the mus-
cles about the mouth, and the flashing and tremnlons mo-
tion of the eye. It was the profound calm that always
precedes the bursting of the storm—the smothered spark
that engenders the crashing and roaring of the confla—
gration. .

Blanche was sitting a little apart from her captors, with
her head leaning against a tree, and the sorrowful and
,wretclted appearance of her countenance struck a sympa-
thetic chord in CVI‘I‘y heart. The hackwoodsmen. those i
men' of stem visage, could with difficulty suppress their

emotion, as they gazed upon her. Their stern natures

were softened and subdued, and every now and then a
tear stole down their sunburnt cheeks. Miles was greatly
agitated» All the fervent sympathies of his heart Wore

  

  

 

THE WOODMEN.

had grown with his growth, and strengthened with his
strength, that he cherished for his clear, idolized Blanche,
seemed to increase an hundred fold in intensity, as he con-
templated the difficulties and dangers that surrounded her,“
which, at the very moment of her deliverance, might bring
destruction upon her devoted head. He became impatient,
but, being discreet, was willing to await the action of his
friends.

“The Huron," whispered Logan, at length, “is a
squaw. He is a snail, that creeps on the home path. A.
Mingo warrior would have traveled with the feet of the

elk. His trail would have been as viewless as .he course I

of the sun through the heavens. The Huron leaves a
track behind, so plain that a Miugo boy could follow it.
He is a cowardly dog, that stops to gnaw the brine by the
way-side. His ears are shut, to exclude the sound of dan-
ger. Ilis eyes are closed in darkness, for fear that he will
see the face of Miugo." ‘ ‘

“Judgmatically spoken,” responded David, in a low ’

tone. “The Hurons ar’ eternal willians; leastwiee my
larnin’, and it aru’t none 0' your book-larnin‘ either,
teaches me so. The careusses o‘ the rapscallions isn’t fit
for wolf-bait. They'd starve to death on such p’ison.

See how innocent the bloodhouuds look. They Wouldn’t r

hurt a babe, not they. But al‘ore another sun We’ll hear
their savage war-whoop among these hills. and, unless my
idea 0' the matter is wrong, it'll be the death-whoop 0’ some
0’ them. Although the time haiu’t come, yet I feel like
pitchin’ right into ‘em, the hateful reptyles."

“Yes,” exclaimed the more eager of the party, “let us
‘on them like the swoop of the hawk. We owe them a
a debt, and desire to liquidate it to the uttermost far-
thiug." ‘

“By the life 0' me, friends,” exclaimed Daniel, in n
Vehement, but subdued tone, “didn’t you hear me-say
that the proper time hadn’t come? Or ar‘ ye possessed
0’ the Evil One, that ye want to rush on the war-mints
without considering the danger? That would be sartin '
death to some of ye youngsters. Now, I’m not conw‘r - .1

 

 
   

   

 

 

 

  

THE WOODMEN. ' . 61'

sent with you: idees o' the like, but I take it, human life
a/rn‘t a thing to be thrown away. when tlmr‘s no neces-
sity for it. My old life arn't worth much, I’ll allow, but,
I’m in no humor, jist now. to be knocked in the head, and
have my top-knot taken and smoked in the wigwatu 0’

‘ some 0' them greasy‘fztced Hurons. Wait till thcimps get

asleep, and then we’ll walk into ‘em most beautiful, and
not a ha’r 0’ your heads shall be touched.”

“Them's my Sentiments to a fraction," replied Daniel
Browning, “and I say further, if we undertake the work
More us now, we'll rue it, ’case them bloodthirsty cusses
would just as lieve tomnhnwk the gal, as not, when they
diskiVer that we've disconsarted thnr Injin’ cunnin'. And
that ornory beast, Hui-bison, is no better nor them oudacious .
red-skins he mixes in with, he isn't."

“You're right thnr, Dmiel."

“Right! to be sure I am, or I‘m a nigger. that's seriin.
Why, it‘s jist the nature o’ n Huron to do sich like. They
can’t help it—it's ground into ‘em. I've Seen it did seve-
ral times, nfore now. Didn’t the Crouchin‘ Eagle try that
(super with Miss Alice Morley, that was i—ztnd didn't me.
and David thar circumwent the unsareumcised imp 0' the
'arth l" ‘ ‘ 1

“That‘s true, Dmicl."

“You are all perfectly right, .my good friends," said
Colonel Cresap; “and I see no legitimate reason why we
should bring matters so speedily to a crisis, that may re-
sult in loss of life. Prudence is the better part of valor,
and I think it would. be prudent to remain in our present
position until the proper time nirives, and then we'll en-
(leuvol' to surprise them. That will materially enhance the
probabilities of success.”

Old David muttered something about them “'tarual
book-words, as nobody could understand," before he
deigned a reply. He then said :

“All wery good, Colonel; but, howsomever, us I‘m bet-
ter conwarsant with these here woods than you, I will jist
say, the warmints may prove mighty troublesome if they
'Ihonld git into laurel along the Limits of the river yander;

 

" 62 THE woominit

.and to hinder that matter, I'm for divirlin' the men, and
aendin’ part to take a sareuit, with D.m‘el and Mingo,
around the pint o‘ the hills, and git into cover on /that
side. Then, when the right time comes, we'll give it to
'em fore and at'..”

This suggestion being approved of, the Red Caps were
detailed for the purpose. 4 The object. was soon accom‘
plished, without disturbing the savages, and each party
then awaited the preconcerted signal with nervous impa-
tience.

The savages, after they had finished their meal, passed
the pipe from mouth to month, each sending it volume of
tobacco smoke into the air, twisting and curling about
their heads like a thing instinct with life and volition.
When they had ceased to regale themselves with the t‘nmes
of the fragrant weed, they drew their blankets around
them. and lay down to enjoy pleasant dreams, as they sup?
posed. But, before the dawning of another sun, a mighty
change was to be effected; the wild yells of relentless foe-
men, burning with resentment for the wrongs inflicted

upon the settlement, was to break in upon their slumbers \

and their immortal souls, in nil human probability, would
be severed from the material body, and be transported to
the happy hunting grounds oftheir fathers, to guide their
birchen canoe over its smooth lakes, to revel amid its Ely—
sian fields, and drink in its glorious beams of brighter and
more cfi‘nlgent sun. ' ,

The whites observed their movements with a lively in-
terest. Each one felt that a crisis was approaching, and
nerved himself to meet it like a man. The probabilities
of succuss were against them, they knew, but there was
no flirmhing; no inordinate longing to be beyond the
reach of danger; no desire to csenpo the responsibilities
of the position they had assumed. They possessed too
much stern and unyielding firmness of character to shrink
hack ufl‘tighted. All stood firm and immutable as a. rook
of adamant. Tney had sworn to avenge the wrongs of
the injured, and they were there prepared to amountnlisb
the object, or, like ill'l‘OCS, nobly fall in the effort, and “ms

  

     

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   

THE WOODMEN. ‘, .’ 63

carve out for themselves a name that would beam forth
brightly in time to come.

' Ifany experienced anything that: could he assimilated
to, or constructed into apprehension, it was Miles Howard;
but that apprehension had no reference to his own per-
sonal safety. It had, in his estimation, :1 nohler, tenderer
Object. There was no .knowing the extent to which
Harbisonis evil passions might transport him. And then,
too, in the‘hour of conflict, when the fierce nature of the 1
Indian should be lashed into fury, Blanche might not cS<
cape their indiscriminate hatred with impunity. He was
fully aware that their savage spirit exalted with fiendish
joy in the perpetration of sanguinary deeds, and to gratify

"this propensity to some extent, Blanche, the beloved idol

of his soul, might be the first victim. He shuddered at
the contemplation. ’I‘he bare possibility of such an out-
rage produced in his breast the deepest anxiety; the. exe-

‘culiou of it, he felt, would be worse a thousand fold than

death. As he pondered this matter over in his mind, the
pulsations of his heart grew more violent, and his deep
breathing manifested the intense solicitude he expe-
rieneed.

Her situation was certainly one of extreme peril, and
nothing short of judicious manoanvering could save her
from the murderous tomahawk of the savage. The least '
false or inconsiderate step, or the slightest mishap of any
kind, might cause her sacrifice at the shrine of their un-

.governahle rage. The savages outnumbered the whites,

and complete and perfect surprise, therefore, could alone
secure her safety. All felt this to be true, and the plans
were‘devised with an eye. single to the successful accom- ‘
plishment of that ohjeot. It must not be supposed that,
in their anxiety for Blanche, old El)., the really kind-
hearted old negro, was flu-gotten. They were all equally
old Eh.’s champions. They cherished a kindly feeling
for the old fellow, and, whilst they struck a blow for her,
they struck a blow for him also. The recapture of one,
was the recapture of both.

. After an uninterrupted silence of several hours, which

  

  

' 64 . THE WOODMEN.

seemed an age to the excited watchers, the proper, time
approached for the beginning of the conflict. The moon
shone forth in all her silver radiance upon the scene, and
innumerable‘stars gemmed the heavens with their twink-
ling light. All was calm around as the silence of the
grave. David Thompson, who was to give the signal,
then stole along through the thick umlerbrush with a cau-
flious and stealthy step toward the IIurons. lIe approach-
ed within thirty yards of the savages, and stood contem-
plating their-,uncouth appearance. \Vhilst his scrutinizing
game still rested upon them, and his long rifle wassi-
leutly being elevated to his face, Wy-ing-wa-ha, or Hard
Heart, rose from his recumbent position. The old for-
ester sank back into a clump of bushes immediat elyriu his
rear, like a shadow. He noiselessly watched his move-
ments, and thrice (lid the neVer-failing riile bear upon his
begrimmed and blackened features, and as often was it
lowered to the ground. At a glance, his practiced. eye
comprehended his wicked design, and only awaited the
eve of its fulfilment, as if to study the workings of the
horrid physiognomy of the savage, which is generally so
stolid and incomprehensible, to hurl the Contents of his
rifle into his brain. When the glittering steel rose above
, the head of Hard-Heart the second time, ready to be
plunged into the breast of Blanche, and his long, bony

hand, still rocking with hutnan gore, was about to grasp ’

her raven tresscs, the old forester became fearfully excited,
and with a quick movement, the rifle was brought to his
shoulder; for a moment he stood there, in the bright
moonlight, like a bronze statue, his iron nerves stretched
to their utmost tension, the left foot :1 little in advance of
the other, the weight of the body conCentratod upon his
right; his ample chest thrown back, the head loaning fory
Word with ageutle inclination, the one eye sparkling with
an intense and almost painful fixedness along thepolished
tube, and then a loud and startling report rung out amid
the sublime stillness of the night, and awakened a. thou-
sand viewless echoes along the caverns and the gorges of
the surrounding mountains. The hidden messenger was

 

 
   

.‘u

 

 

   
 

 

.ur

  

 

 

 

THE wOODMEN. ‘ 65

hurled forth with fatal precision, and Hard-Heart, shouting
his terrificwvar-crm and hurling his glittering knife at the
breast of Blanche Lovvl. with tremendous force, pitched
forward and expired. The knife, fortunately, missed her,
and, burying itself in a tree above her head, snapped in
two with the violence with which it was impelled.

The echoes had scarcely died away before the murder-
ous contents of a, dozen rifles were belched forth upon the
Herons, accompanied by the battle-cry of the Red Caps,
and the terrific war-whoop of the Mingo.

lf'a thunderbolt had burst in all its wrath over their
heads, or if one of the adjacent mountains had been sud-
denly rent asunder with a violent Volcanic convulsion, and
its burning and hissing,r lava poured down upon them with
the concentrated fury ofan avalanche, they could not have
been more startled and bewildered. For a moment they
stood motionless, seemingly transformed to stone, and
then shouting their ferocious war-cry in tones so wild and
terrific as almost to freeze the soul with horror, they caught
up their fire-arms, and rushed headlong toward the laurel
thicket, for the purpose of concealing themselves. But
Daniel Browning, with his Red Caps. eager for the bloody
strife, was prepared for their reception; and when they
came within range, poured into them a destructive volley,
which, for an instant, arrested their steps, but it was but
for an instant. His discharge was answered by a yell of
defiance. Discharging their carbincs, and clutching their
tomahawks, which they waved in glittering circles above
their heads, the llurons rushed with retlouhled speed upon
the old bacluvoodsman and his little band, at each bound
utteringr a prolonged and threatening war-whoop.- But
the old man’s blood was now heated, and, calling his
young friends around him, he thus addressed them:

“Now, friends," he exclaimed, with terrible emphasis,
whilst his w miller-beaten countenance glowed with that
indescribable expression of hatred which always settles
upon the features in the hour of battle. “Now, friends,
gin the rapscallions the devil. ~IIaVe no‘ tnarcy on the
blood-thirsty hounds, ’case why, you see they've no good

\

   
   
   
  
 
 
    
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 

_...

  
   

66 ‘ THE WOODMEN.

feelin’ for real ginnine white folks like ourselves, they.
haven‘t. They'd as lieve raise your scalp-locks as eat
when they‘re hungry, and a tarnntion sight sooner. Hers
they come, and our cry is blood for blood. Now into
’ern, the thievin‘ wolves. Plug it right into them. l—Iurml
friends! no fultorin', but walk right into the artful var-
mints. Thar goes the Mingo’s gun—and listen, thnr’s his
Well-known war-cry; and ther agin spoke the rifle of
David Thompson. Two more red-skins have ended thar
last war-path. Now don’t be outdone, friends, but gin it
to him once more. Kill the wolves, now, and take their
scalps arterwards."

The onset of Daniel was so impetnons, that the sav-
ages, after a few ineffectual attempts to gnin the cover of
the laurel, retreated with precipitation.

But old David and the Mingo got together in their rear,
fired into their bleeding ranks, and two more savages fell.
Growing desperate under their repeated discomfltures,
they again wheeled and dashed impetuonsly at the thicket
in which Daniel was stationed. He beheld them up:
preaching, and shouted to his companions, in a voice’of
thunder:

“Git ready, for the 'imps o’ the evil serpent ar’ comin’
on us agin, Now, boys, now’s your time to strike a blow
thet'll tell. All together, and show the cussed greasy--
faced reptyles o’ the ’nrth the wisnges 0’ men. Take that,"
cried he, striking a herculenn savage over the head with “
his tonmhawk, and clearing him to the shoulders. “ That’s
what I call doin' the thing genteel. He'll not trouble
penceable white folks again, I sorter reckons If he does
I’m a nigger, that‘s sartain. Look out thar, Thomas
Cresapl Don‘t you see that white-livered hound 0’ a
red-skin sneakin‘ up behind ye? That’s right, gin it to
the dirty llllll". By hokey! he's done for in this world,
for snrtnin l”

Thus he continued for .several moments, and in the
meantime laying about him with tremendous blows. At’
one instant, he would plunge his long scalping-knif‘e into

\the breast of one savage, and the next, hurl his tomahawk,

 

THE WOODMEN, 67

already crimsoned with blood, with equal dexterity, mto
the brains of another, uttering, at the execution of each
feat, a subdued guttural laugh, peculiar to backwoodsmen,
when anything occurs to excite the ris‘ihle faculties. They
are an eccentric race of beings, totally dissimilar, probably
owing to their peculiar mode of life, -to any other portion
of the great human family. Their days are spent in the
deep solitude of the wilderness, amid its storms, its tor-
rents, and its glorious sunshine, either in trapping the
beaver, hunting the deer and elk, or exploring regions
hitherto unknown to civilized man. Of the great human
herd, and the passions and prejudices by which they are
swayed to and fro, like a reed in the blast, they are com-
pm‘atively ignorant. Shut up in the limitless depths of the
,forest, they hear but little of the rise and fall of nations;
and never dream of their advance to power and knowledge,
their jealonsies, their fierce hate, and their sanguinary
wars. They take no pride in anything but proficiency in
their peculiar vocation. Remorseless savages, and fero-
cious beasts of prey are their sole companions by day and
night. They glory in the wild excitement their frequent
encounters with them affords. It robs existence of its
yveal'isome monotony, and imparts a fascination to.their
mode of life, altogether irresistible. Daniel Browning had
been reared in the backwoods, far removed from the bonus
. darics of civilized society; he had encountered a thousand
imminent perils in battle with the savages, where ' defeat
Was certain death; he had b‘aved all manner of danger,
under all manner of circumstances, in sunshine and in
storm, amid the wild wrath of the tempest, and in the
rushing and leaping hurricane of fire that Sometimes sweeps
over our magnificent forests, killing and blasting the tim-
ber, and leaving in its wake a tnournfnl scene of desolation
and decay, but, like the holy youth spoken of in Scrip-
ture, he had triumphed over them all. Y
Coiouele-esap, and his portion of the Red Caps, now
having taken a circuit through the intervening under-
growth of the forest, came upon the flank of the Hurons
,unexpectedly, efl’ectually hemming them in, and cutting otf

 

68- \ THE WOODMEN.

all possibility of escape. IIe poured into then a deadly '
discharge, and then the scone became truly terrific. The
fierce war-whoop of the savages, and the ominous yell of '
the whites, mingled with the incessant roar of the rifles,
and the loud twang of the bow-string, necomp mietl by the
groans of the wounded and dying, were most appalliuv. I
The savages attempted to escape, but they were met on
all sides by the flash of rifles and the glittering tomqlmwk
and scalping-kuife, and terror. rage and despair became al-
ternately riveted upon their painted faces. They fought‘
with the wildest desperation. The escuteheon of their
tribe was not tarnished by a single act of eowardice. They
would not deign to ask for quarter. They would rather
have impaled themselves upon their own scalping-knives.’
But. their courage was unaVailing. Nothing eoultl with-
stand the indomitable resolution and the nnconqnerable
Spirit of the whites. Revenge was their battle—cry, and,
ever and anon, as the noise and tuniultof the conflict sub-
sided, tlmt ominous word could be heard reverberating
along the neighboring mountains, and the work of death
Would again commence with redoubled violence.

The knife and the tonmhawk did the work with dread-
ful violence. The backwomlsmen of those days under-
stood their use from experience, and in the hour of battle
wielded them with an cfl‘ect but little less murderous than
that of the fatal rifle. At each successive blow an Indian
brave was sent on his long war-path, without even an op-
portunity to sing his death-song, preparatory to his glid-
ing over the smooth lakes and happy hunting grounds of
his fathers.

At length a. single warrior remained alive amid the'
dreadful carnage, the last desponding remnant of his band
-—nnsubdued and ready to meet his fate with that total
abandonment of self, and indifference to death, so charac-
teristic of his race. In a voice low and swuet as the
signing of the evening breeze, he commenced his death-
song: >

“Ki-tah-lm is brave. He can look death in the face
with an unflinching eye. Let the Long~Knives strike!

 

THE WOODMEN. 'V 69

Ki-tahiha is prepared to go. His red brothers are on the
trail that leads to the presence of the Great Spirit. He is
ready to follow them. His heart is bal'ed t0 the knife.
Why do not the Long-Knivr-s strike? The' scalp of Ki.
tally—ha is easy taken. Ilis trail is smooth. The pale-
i‘aces he has scalped have removed the brambles from his
path. Strike! Ki tnh-ha is the last of his band. He is
a blasted oak in the clearingof the pale-faces. The beams
' of the morning sun will never more be shed on his head.
The morning light will behold him far on his way to the
happy hunting grounds of his fathers. The Long-Knives
have desecrated the red man's forest, and killed the game
placad here for his subsistence. The accursed plough has
ripped up the sacred graves of his fathers. Where their
bones sleep, there are the wigwams of the pale—faces.
Strike! Ki-tah-ha desires to go!"

This speech was delivered in a monotonous tone, be-
tween singing and speaking, and when the last words fell
from his lips, his Countenance assumed an expression of
the most savage ferocity, and his eyes glittered with the
fury of an incarnate fiend. He stood for a moment as if a
new thought had penetrated his mind. His countenance
had in a. moment changed from an expression of disap-
pointment'aml despair to one of ungovernable rage; and
then again the most stolid imlifl‘erence to his fate. He
stood Calm and collected, like a stag at bay, regarding the
dangers that encompassed him with a. bold and fearless
aspect. Then. concentrating all his gigantic muscular
powers (‘01' a final cflln't, before any one could compre-
hend his purpose, he hurled his tomahawk with the rapid-
hy of lightning full at the breast ot‘ young Cresap, the son
01 the Colonel, and with a yell, long, loud and ferocious, ,
m- bnunded over the heads of his relentless foes and disap-
,peared in the deep darkness of the wilderness.

So unexpected was the daring act to young Cresap, that
he scarcely‘had time to utter an exclamation of horror,
before the fatal instrument was buried to the Very eye in
his chest. Ashe fell back into the arms of Daniel Brown-
ing, with his remaining strength, he tore the Weapon from

 

THE WOODMEN.

70

his breast, and in a moment expired, without uttering a ,

syllable. The grief of his father can be imagined, but the
pen is inadequate to describe it. ‘ He folded the inanimate
form to his heart, and an expression of poignant agony
gradually spread over his features. But we will not in-
trude upon the sacredness of a parent's grief.

After the conflict was over, Miles Howard, lost to all
the fierce excitement that had so lately raged around him,

stood clamping the beautiful form of Blanche Level to his 
What a world of happiness was in that silent cm- 7

heart.
brace! She whom he had considered lost forevermore,
was, in God's providence, restored to him; and whilst he
stood there, enveloped in the silvery radiance of the moon,

with the quiet stars, beautifully bright, twinkling in the ‘

resplendant sky above him, he breathed a grateful prayer
to God for this mark of His divine pleasure. Nor were
Blanche’s lips silent. IIer invocation to the Father of the
fathcrless had been heard and anSWercd, and, whilst tears
of heartfeltjoy bedewed her cheek, she knelt down upon
the lowly turf, and in words replete with natural eloquence,
poured forth the gratitude of her heart.

David Thompson and Daniel Browning silently gazed
upon the devoted pair, and the old men’s hearts became
too full for utterance. They grasped Miles Howard by
the hand, and gave it a pressure that expressed more elo-
quently than all the set phrases that ever gleamel from a

vocabulary, the intense and happy emotions of their souls. I

They were old, and perhaps rude in exterior, but noble
hearts beat beneath their rough vestments. They knew
how to appreciate the warm and generous impulses of
youthful love, the garlaml-spring of life, the dream of the
heart, and the impassioned poetry of nature. '

At this moment John Harbison bounded forward from a
thicket of brush, behind which he had concealed himself
in the beginning of the combat. In the brief space of

time he had remained there, he seemed to haVc sulfered a .

thousand deaths. His countenance was as pale as death,
and haggard, and he tottered as if the Weight of tlrree-
score years and ten was upon his shoulders. He timidly

 
 
 

   
 
   

     

    

    

 

    

TUE WOODMEN. 71

raised his eyes to those about him. but meeting no sym-
pathy in their stern looks, all his evil passions were again
kindled into a. flame, and, with the diabolical mnlignity of
In assassin, he endeavored to terminate his bloody
work by plunging his knife into the bosom of Miles [Iow-
nrd. But, fortunately, the Mingo Chief, Comprehending
the purport of the movement, with a. hand that never grew
,unsteady in an emergency, dealt the degraded wretch a
blow with his tomahawk that would 'have felled an ex,
and, before any one could intercept him, tore the reekiufz
scalp from his head, and suspended it at his girdle. He died
as he had lived, the victim of his evil passions.

Old Ebony continued to pour forth a torrent of words
upon the frightened savages, mingled every now and then
with snatches of rude songs. such as we have quoted, un-
‘til'lhe ligatures binding his limbs were severed. After
expressing his gratitude. his exuberant spirit expended it-
Ielt' in another song, not less noted for the absence «\i‘ all
'hsrmony than for the want of all poetic sentiment:

“ Wake snakes! de world am floatin,’
Trees mn dancin' in delight;
And the Injius, they hub run
Through the bushes out ob sight.

“ Some been kill, and some run 011‘,
Some lose scalp-locks in de fight;
But w’e’s got free, dnt’s enough,
And 30 home wid all our might?

-—‘n». ‘r'r '

7’ THE WOODMEN.

CHAPTER X.

Scarce could they hear or see their fog
Until at weapon-point they close.
They close in clouds of smoke and dust,
With sword-sway, and with lances’ thrust;
And such a yell was there
0f sudden and portentous birth,
As if men fought upon the earth,
And fiends in upper air—Mamba

When the combat had ceased, and the yells of contend-
mg foes had been displaced by the Solemn qnietude ot‘tho‘
forest, they turned their attention toward lnterrlnglthe
dead body of their companion. The sad ceremonial was
soon performed, and the inanimate remains was lowered
amid profound silence to their last resting—place upon
earth. A rude pile of stones still marks the spot where his
bones repose. ' .

Daylight soon dawned npon the world. The sun rose
up in nnclonded magnificence ovor the hills, and bathed
the forest in a flood of golden radiance. The j-ty and the

merry red—breast, still lingering in their snmmer homo,

trilled their happy songs; and the squirrel, jumping
nimth from tree to tree, sent abroad his chattering noise.
5.5 if in defiance of man’s power to injure. All within the
depths of the forest was life and animation. W'eary and
“‘0”! with travel and watching, the little party made but
slow progress on their lmmewnrd path. They were com-
pelled to pick their way through the hriars and thick nn<
dergrowth, np steep ascents, and over rugged nmnntains,

whose precipitate. sides, covered with rocks and brambles,

ulmost defied their strength to ascend them. Tney were

breed to proceed with tlte.utmost caution. At every step ‘

 

 

 

m'nv c” 7-' " .

 

THE WOODMEN.

almost, they encountered Indian signs; which admonished

them of the neces<ity of keeping their three united. They

\ might be attacked at, any moment; for as the Mingo ,in-

formed them. numerous hands of Hurons were scouring

' the fitrest, reallyat any moment to wreak their Vengeance

v upon the unprotected, and the many trails which intersect-

-erl each other at intervals, furnished irret‘ragible evidence
of the correctness of the information.

’To guard against. an atnhnsearle, which their subtle foes
might prepare for them, David Thompson and Logan
acted as scou‘s. always keeping in advanoe. They had

V not proceedm‘l more than five or six miles, when the

. Mingo suddenly halted, and. laying one finger significantly
upon hislips, pointed, without uttering a syllable, to an
object about, a. hundred yards in initiation of them. The
keen sight of the old forester immediately detepted the 0b-

. Supt; but whether man or heast, he rou‘d not (letermine—

' but ofouc thing he was fully satisfied, it was dead. Seve-
ral largv'lmzzards were whet-lint: in broad circles above
nu,- li-(-t--tops, uttering,r their ominous sltriefts. whilst: a large
tantamount was standing over the prostrate carcass, re-
gratin}.r himself upon the putrid flesh. The rifle of. David
was brought to his shoulder in an instant. but. recovering
his montmttary forgett‘ulucss, he as quickly dropped it to
the ground.

“I‘ll not do it,” he exclaimed. “it'll not. do. hjins
havi- cars like rabbits, and the report. tnayhriag the whole
ytrlpitt‘ crew down on us. But what says Logan? Can't
.he Sarcuntvent the beast?"

The chiet‘ made no reply, but deliberately stepping in

V t front of the old forester, he drew an arrow from the quiver
at his bark, plttt'cd it in the how, and sant it; whining
‘ttarough the air. The ferocious aninimal bounded up
st-wral feet. fell backwards down the hill, tlontl.

'l‘lw'y approached, and; to their astonishmth beheld
the mutilated renutins of a sawige, with a frightful :aSh in
his face, and the scalp-lock torn from his head. The ho ly
was torn a good deal by the catamount. The Mingo hent

/ o'er the corpse,‘ and examined it very closely for a fell

 

 

74‘ THE WOODMEN.

moments, and then administered to the inanimate body a
contemptuous kick, and hissed between his teeth.

“The Huron is a dog. He goes on the war-path like,
a whining cur, that the Mingo warrior may take his scalp. ,

The blood ot'an Indian brave does not run in his veins.

They are squaws.”

“Thar’s truth in that, Mingo,” the old scout replied;
“ thar‘s truth in that. No one can gainsny it that knows
, the nature 0’ the Enron; and, though no man ought to
boast 0' his gifts, yet I lay I could take the top-knot o
hait‘a dozen o’ the war-mints. In a scrimmage or ont‘n
a scrimmage, it’s all the same. They are not the real,
genuine grit.
twenty agin one, and perhaps they'll sarcnmvent him; but
not otherwise, if he understands the nat’ral doin’s o’ the
artful wolves.”

By this time the remainder of the party had come up,
and stood in a group around the lifeless body, contem-
plating the sad spectacle. The Hurons were their mortal
enemies, but the sight, instead of inspiring/pleasuralde emo-
tions, engendered the keenest apprehensions of their own
safety. Even where they were grouped together, there
were indubitahle evidences of a snnguinary combat not
many hours preceding. Blotches of blood here and there
stained the dry grass, and close by them the head of an
arrow had penetrated several inches into a tree, where ‘it
was still remaining, and a few feet further to the right lay
a broken rifle. It must have been a hand-to-haud fight,

for the only visible wound on the dead savage was a deep ,

out, made npparently with a tomnhawk, leading from the
right eye to the left corner of the mouth, from which the
bland had flowed in a torrent over his hegrimmed features,
imparting to them no appearance ghastly in the extreme.
The savages had evidently suli'ered a defeat, otherwise,
the dead holly, in accordance with the Indian custom,
would have been removed from the scene of conflict;' but,
permitting their adversaries to obtain a triumph over them,

they were compelled to retire, and it‘ the surmises of"

Logan and the old forester: were not without foundation.

Gin 'em an ambushment to begin with, and ,

     

     
   
   
   
   
  

 

 

   
 
 
 
 

    

TUE WOODMEN.

‘ they were still lurking in the vicinity to avenge their sup~
posed wrongs, and gratify their insatiate appetite for the
blood of their fellow-creatures.

’ Whilst they were still grouped around the lifeless rec
mains of the Indian, contemplating, with mingled feelings
of awe and sorrow, the mournt‘ul result of savage warfare,
the crack of a distant rifle swelled upon their ears. For

‘ a moment they stood motionless and undetermined, not
because fears for their personal safety formed one of the
constituted elements of their character, for those hardy
men—pioneers of a mountain wilderness--—were too fami-
liar with the perils incident to a frontier life to manifest
or even experience a sentiment in any form allied to fear.
They were men, cautious, hold and fearless, ready to en-
counter danger at every point—men whose souls had been
triod amid the trnuhlous scenes of border warfare—and
they were not indisposed to meet danger now, if any henc-
‘fit would result from the encounter. Death had often ex-
tended his skeleton limit] to clutch them with its relent-
less grasp; hut, by some fortuitous circumstance, they
had. always escaped. If they remained seemingly en-
chained to the ground, it. was, because, like discreet. work-
men, they wore calculating the prohahilities against them.
They were loath to not until their judgment toid them that
,they were pursuing a proper course. One false or incon-
siderate step might plunge them into difficulties from which
they could not. possibly ex'ricate themselvvs without dan-
ger, and, perhaps, sacrifice of life. That the crack of the
rifle awakened a. presentiment of" danger is true. They
all‘vxperienced an undefined feeling ofperil, an insecurity

t in their present position, which was not at all tenawle, that
admonished them of the neceSsity of looking about for I
place of greater sat‘t-ty.

They were still debating in their own minds what course
to pursue. when they were roused by a tremendous crash

‘ in the bush, in the direction whence the report had is.
sued. All eyes were riveted upon the spot, and in a few
seconds, a huge black hear. from whose shaggy sides the

‘biood was bubbling out in n copious stream, made his ap-

i

 

 

  

76 THE WOODMEN.

pearancc. B ‘fore they could change their position. the
monster, uttering a ferocious growl, sprang in amongst
them, and fell, struggling in the last agOnies of death.

“The Huron," exclaimed Logan, as he extracted an ar-
row from the matted breast, and held it up to view, “is
on the war-path. But they will find that the panther has
coiled himselfin his path. We will meet them like the
shock ofthe tempest. Like a tree riven by the fire of
heaven, they will fall. There will be wailing amongst the
lodges of the IIurons, for those who went out on the war-
pnth, and will never return. Twenty-four wnrriors, since
the setting of the last sun, have disappeared like the leaves
of autumn. Their bones are bleaching in the valley far
away from the graves of their fathers. Their arms are
rusting by their sides, because the hand that wielded them
is like a withered branch in a forest of pine.”

“Ay, ay,” answered David Thompson, in the figure,
tive language of the Indian Chief, “the rampaging hounds
wur sarcumwented in their deviltry. They warlike trap-
pvrs lost in the wilderness, who know not one star from
the other, or that the thick bark, through a wise sareutn-

spection of the uat‘ral world, grows on the north side 0’ ,

the trees. Thar path was full 0' briars, and the Good
Mnnito smiled not on them for mnnydnys. They war
snakes in the grass, but the eye of the hawk diskivered
their artful disguise. But, histl hear you not the yellsyo’
the reptyles 't‘" ~
Just then a. prolonged war-whoop burst from the
throats of at least fifty savages, in hot pursuit of the
Wounded bear, whose course was marked by his life-
blood. .
“To cover! to coverl for your lives!" was the simul-
taneous exclamation of the whites.

“Ay, to the hush with the gal. Miles Howard, to the

bush, nud hid:- yonrsolf in the twinklin’ of on eye;’ and

let every individual take a tree, who wallies his scalp, and

can squint along a rifle-barrel like a ginnlne marksman,"
exclaimed Daniel Browning; “And now, old Blazer,” he

 

 

 

 

 
  
 

 

 

 

 
  

   
 
   
  
 
  
 
 

 

 

    

continued, patting his .ong rifle, “and now, old Blazer, I’

  

 

 

 

THE WOODMEN. ‘17

wants you to gin‘ the heathen dogs a hearty welcome.
Speak to ’em in 'arnest, and let each load be a messenger
that'll bring the death-howl out'n the gizzards 0’ them
bloodthirsty Hurous." .

Rapid as‘the spring of a deer, each bounded toward a,
clump of pine-bush standing on a knoll about a hundred
yards farther up the mountain. The brush formed a
dense screen. and a person once concealed within its deep
recesses became invisible to those without. It covered
about an acre of ground, two sides of winch were inacces-
sible on account ofa precipitous ledge of rocks, springing
up perpendicularly, for many feet, from the bed of a bean-
tiful mountain streamlct that Wound its serpentine course
around their base like a silver ribbon—here sparkling in
the subdued rays of the sun, like a shower of brilliauts,
and further on, bounding through a frightful chasm with
fearful velocity, hurling every impediment aside in its on-
ward path.

At the approach of new scenes of danger, the palpita-
tions of Blanche‘s heart became almost inaudible. ‘She
knew the Hurons alone by the ruthlessness of the deeds
which they perpetrated in the wantonness of their spirits,
and all the narratives she had ever heard recounted 'of
their merciless transactions rose up with accumulatud hor-
ror before her eyes. To this was added her own sad ex-
perience. As she approached the knoll, her steps became
so feeble that she could scarcely move, and would have
fallen insensible to the earth had not the vigorous arms of
Miles Howard clasped her form within their embrace, and
bore her along to a place of safety on the farther side of

' the thicket with the same facility that he would have car-

ried an infant.
, “Dear Blanche," said he, in cheerful tones, “do not
give way to your fears. Danger may still be remote; but

,if‘it should come. you are surrounded by noble and true

hearts, who will freely shed the last drop of their blood
to protect you from harm. Come, sit down by the side of
this tree; its roots will afford you a seat, while its noble
trunk will shelter you from the missiles of our enemies.

 

 

   

78 THE WOODMEN.

You can rest here securely, for the savages cannot scale
this rocky rampart, and we can easily defend the other
side of the knoll.”

Impressing an affectionate kiss on her pale but lovely
cheek, which spoke to the hertrt ot‘ the poor girl It language
for more eloquent than words, he withdrew to the outer
edge of the thicket, toward which the savages were now
nppronehing. suspecting nothing, and apparently caring
for nothing, in their anxiety to capture the wounded hear.
The whites were stnndiug in a group, carefully concealed
from view, and, as Miles approached, Colonel Cresap re-
mnrkcd : '

“1 nm convinced, my b'nve comrades, that blood again
is about to be shed. We haveleft behind us a broad trail,
and the quick eye of the IInron will soon detect it, and
discover our place of concealment. Our numbersthey can
easily determine, and, as it natural congequenee, they witt
make a deeper-rte effort to dislodge us. 'We must not
pt‘uvt- to he slug-gums when the hour of trial arrives. If
We do, our sctlps will not remain long upon our heads.
\Ve last night enerinntered the pride of the lIuron nation,
but they disnppenred before our onset. like stubble before
the flames. Another hriIlinnt triumph awaits us, if, iu~
the dark hour nt‘peril, we can show a magmuitnous an
determined front to our enemies." »

“Well, I sorter reckon,” said Daniel Brmvninz, drew
inf: his stout, weather—henten t‘rame up to its full height
“Ism‘ter reckon that them thar eternal reptyles 0' Hr.
ynrth will diskiver that we are no squnws in a skritnmttge
they will." \

“ My white brothers," said Logan, “have not spekt'n
llk‘, singingdnrrls. Their words nu: clear as the sky wit)»
out. clouds. Many llurons have started on their law -'
earthly war-path. It lends to the hunting—groumls where
the Greu’ Spirit dwells. Twelve several times has tho
rifle ot' Tnit-gnit-jtltrt spoken since the full moon, and the
sealps ot'ns nntny Hurons are suspended at his girdle. The
Good Mnuito of the Huron has hid his face behind- Lb»

 

 

  

  
  
  

 
  
 
 
  

“cg/w?

 

 

 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

 

 
   

'I‘IIE \t'oomtriN. ‘ 79

Clouds. He no longer smiles upon their project. A dark
frown was on his countenance." ’

Saying this, the painted countenance of the Chief as-
sumed an expression of stoieal composure.

The whites now distributed themselws in small parties,

In as to guard the unprotected sides of the thick et more

effectually, and concealed themselves behind such barrier:
as Nature threw in their way.

The band at IItn-ons proved to be a war party, headed
by the celebrated Elk-Foot, the most daring and vindic-
tive Chief of the nation. His character was as terrible for
his brutal acts as his influence with his tribe was unlimit-
ed. Willi many a. thrilling legend is/the name of this
Chief identified.

When they approached the dead carcass of the bear, a
shout of triumph burst from the throatsot' the whole party,
and a savage of exquisite symmetry of person stepped for~
ward, Severed the huge claws of the animal, and pre-
Sented thetn to the Chiet‘, as a trophy worthy of his ac-
Ceptance. '

Elk-Foot received them with open manifestations of de-
light; but at that instant, his eye encountered the Inau-
gled remains of the dead savage, and a howl, so tieree, so
wild, and yet so mournt'ul, cchood along.r the gorges and
clet‘ts of mountains, that the whites, as it‘ by common un-
derstanding, cocked their rifles. and raised them to their
shoulders. They gathered around the lifeless limit of the
Indian, and every now and then an ominous yell llI‘nkc in

‘upon the deep solitude of the wilderness, which seemed to

the little'band of men on the knoll full of dang l'otts im-
port, and which assumed a more open manifestation when
the dead catamount was discoVered, an.l the arrow was
drawn t'rom its side and examined. Then a burst of rage
still more ferocious burst from his lips, aeroapanied at
intervals by the hated name of Tat-gait jute, their invincible
foe.

Miles turned his glance upon the Countena‘nCe of Logan,
to see whether he could comprehend the nature of the
thoughts chasing each other through his mind, but all

 
 

 

 

80 THE WOODMEN.

there was calm and placid, as it‘ his features had been
chiseled from the solid rock behind which he was en-
sconced. Every liuenment of his countenance was as
rigid as iron, and the only words that escaped his lips
Were: ,
“There shall be mourning amongst. the wigwmns of tth
Huron. The light. from the sun shall be shut ,out by a
duik cloud."

Then, for the first time, a gleam of savage ferocity
played fora moment, like a flash of lightning, about the '
distended pupils of his eyes.

The leaders of the Hurons, meanwhile, held a nriei‘ cen-
sultution, whilst the less itnportant persouuges of the band
Commenle examining the ground, to find the trail of their
mortal enetny. In a moment, their success was made up-
purcnt by a single shout of triumph—then another. and ‘
another, until the whole band had united in the bellow-
ings of exultation thnt rose and swelled along the hills
like the yells ofa thousand incarnate fiends, rejoiwiug oVet‘
the fall ofa Christian spirit. vTheu, us it' in utter reck-
lessness of danger, a young lIurou, of toll and Command-
ing appearance, whose countenance, painted black, indi-
cated a snuguiuury and malignant. spirit, followed along,r on
the trail of the whites. Logan observed his approach,
and a dark frown, like the fleeting shadow of a cloud.
passed over his stolid i‘c-ttures. ’i‘hen, loosening; his
scalping-knii‘e in its sheath, he silently awaited the coming
of the savage. When he drew near the thicket, he paused
for a. moment, and poi-red within its deep t'eCesses,at1d
being uppureutly satisfied with the scrutiny, he moved for-
ward with the noiseless trend of the cougar. ,The eyes of
theMiugo were riVetted upon him with the 'glure of a
wild beast. When the Huron approached within a few
feet, Logan sprang from his coucmltueut, and, at a single
bound, plunged his scalpingknife-to the hilt into the
breast ot' the astonished savage. II‘: sank down without
a groml, iotmv-di-Ltely expired, and in nu inst tut tit: reek-
insr scalp dangled at the girdle of the victorious Miueo.
‘ As he resumed his former place of COIICC‘JlJlL‘ill, eVery

\

 

I

 

 
 

THE WOODMEN. 81 '

lineament of his countenance, for a. fleeting instant, glowed
with a blaze of triumphant exultation.

After a few moments duration, another savage followed
slowly on the trail of his unfortunate predecessor. He
was sufl't-red to proceed unmolusted to the edge of the
bushes, when, observing the prostrate form of the savage
weltering in his own blood, he stood for a moment the
Very personification of amazement, and then, uttering his
wiltl war-cry, he turned quickly upon his heel, with the
intention of retracing his steps; but a bright, gleaming
sheet of flame issued from the extended barrel of Daniel
Browning’s rifle, and the shriek of agony, and the upward
bound announced that the messenger of death, hurled from
the unerring rifle, had found another victim. Logan
darted forth, like an arrow, from his place of concealment,
and before the I-Iurons Could understand his design, or re-
(var from their astouislnnent, he had whipped out his
Scalping kuite, passed it rapidly around the unresisting
head of the savage, and tore the scalp loose from the
bleeding skull. Shouting his triumphant battle-cry, he
shook his bloody trophy before the eyes of his foes, and
disappeared in the thicket.

Anactot‘ such consummate daring took the Human
completely by surprise. For a moment they remaian
grouped together, like a herd of startled deer, scarcely
realizing the truth of what had been made manifest to
their organs of sight. But. at length, they recovered from
their momentary confusion, and one loud and prolonged
how] of rage broke in upon the deep quietude that had
settled down upon the forest, and awoke a thousand
' echoes along the rocky dctiles of the mountain. Scatter-
ing themStclves, the lIurons now glided from tree to tree
up the hill, carefully guarding their persons front sight.
Once or twice, the backwoodsmen assayed their poWers
with the rifle at their fleeting forms, but u yellofdeflance,
orataunting laugh, was the only effect of their skill.
Their progress was wary in the extreme. Some threw
themselves flat. upon the earth, and noiselessly crept from
hash to bush, whilst others would bound rapidly from one

 

  

 

 
 

82 THE ivoonnsx.

tree to another, thus defying the skill of the best marks»
man. After moving forward in this manner for some time,
they at length arrived within thirty or forty yards of the
thicket, and, after screening themselves for a fe\V seconds
behind trees and logs, careful not to expose any part of”
their persons by a simultaneous movement, they sprang
forward and fired into the bushes. The missiles flew harm-
lessly own: their heads, ‘and they, in turn, elevated their
piccus; n lmrizlmtal column of flame and smoke was
seen to issue from the motionless tubes, and the wild and
despairing shrieks borne to the ears of the whites nssu red
them that their aim was taken with fatal precision. The
savages fled iinpetuously down the hill, leaving,r their loss
numerous adversaries still in possession of the knoll. All
then grew quiet. An unbroken solitude seemel to brop l\
ovur the place. With a quiet laugh at their success, Daniel
Browning remarked :

“Well, the rampaging devils have sneaked away to con-
sart some more 0’ thar cunniu’ contraptions to sarcuznwent ‘
us, but I sorter reckon that the wisdom o‘ a pale-face can
(lo more in a skrimmage than that 0’ a thousand sich short-
sighted creatures. Lat ’etn come at us ag'in, and we‘ll
exterminate the imps o’ the yarth completely."

“Do you think they will renew the combat?" inquired
Miles.

“ Anan ?" _ ~

“Are you of opinion that the Hurons will attack us
again ?”

“Will the sun set in the West?" asked Daniel, byway
of reply. “ To be sure they'll try us ag'in, or I‘m no
judge o’ Injin natur‘. When the wolf once obtains the
scent 0‘ blood, he's not goin’ to sneak off without a
mouthful. The etarnal red warmints want our sealps, and ’
unless We manage our mettle judgmatically, and plant our
bullets right into thar dirty carcasses, it’ll be useless
waste of powder and lead, anl they‘ll sareunnvent us to
cur ruin."

“The pale—face," said Logan, in the musical Ilanguage
0! his tribe, “ speaks with the wisdom of his people. Bax

 

 

  

    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

 
 

 

  

 

   
 

 

  

 

 
  
 

 

 

      

“ ' 'I‘IlE WOODMEN. ‘ 83

{one you dark cloud shall pass over to the East, we will
hear the report ot‘ the Huron rifles."

By this time the sun had descended nearly to the
Verge of the Western horiznn, but still shed a flood of soft
golden glory over the wilderness, and tinged the few fleet-

« ing clouds along the respleudant dome of heaven with all

the intermediate hues, between the narrow edging of
bright yellow and the imperial purple, which changed,
ever and anon, as the clouds altered their positions, until
first one, then another glowing column of beauty shot up
along the sky, and flooded its azure depths with all the
brilliant eolorings of the rainbow.

The whites gazed upon the gorgeous spectacle as the
harbinger of a brighter hour, and renewed courage infused
itself unsuen into their hearts. Even the dark lineaments

’ ot' the Miugo's countenance, so rigid and unbonding in

time of battle, relaxed into a. pleasant smile, as he re-
marked:

“The Great Spirit smiles upon us. Our tomahawks
will drink up of the blood of the Huron. Beholdl" he
continued, pointing upward where several cnrriou crows

(were wheeling: iu majestic circles above the tall pines,

“behold! The birds of the air are still on the wing, to
pick the flesh from the white bones of our enemies!”
When he ceased speaking, he rose to watch the move—
ments of the savages, and at that moment the sharp twang
of the bowstring was heard, and the arrow came whizziug
through the air. It struck the rock at his feet, and was
shin-red into a thousand slmpeless fragments. A glance
in the direction whence it came, discovered the dark visage
of a savage peering up over a log about. forty yards disv
taut. Ile had crawled, unseen, up the ascent, and had
probably been waiting an opportunity to effect his purposl
for an hour. He was in the act of adjusting another ar-
row in the how, when the rifle of Colonel Cresap for the
first time fell forward into the palm of his left hand, and
in a moment afterwards belched forth its murderous cori-

tents,
"Hag ha, he)" laughed Daniel Browning, in hil quiet

  

 
 
   
 

84 TH E WOODMEN.

way, "another red-skin is done yellin‘, to a snrt’inty.

Don't you hear the (tenth-shriek, and that hOiIow groan,
who can mistake it for anything but the last whoop of a
pesky lnjin? I sorter rcelton—j-hist!"

His words Were sealed upon his lips, by the loud, long
and piercingr war-whoop that rose up in startling distinctp
ness from the lull-side immediately below them. The up-
mariug din lasted for at least a minute, and it seemed as
though all the demons of the infernal regions Were libe-
rated, and were now enacting their hellish pranks upon
earth, and filling the air with their horrid blag; hemies to
terrify the timid souls of men.

In an instant the backwoodsmen sprung to their feet ;
but a warning signal from Colonel Cresap admonished
them of their imprudenCe, and each dropped into his place
of concealment again. At that moment the Herons again
rushed up the hill in a body, brandishing their weapons in
a menacing manner, and filling the air with their unearthly
yells. On they came until within a few yards of the
thicket, when they let ofl" a whole volley of arrows and
bullets into the bushes. Clutching their tomahawks, they
bounded toward the cover 01' the whites. The bright
flashes, and the reports ofa dozen rifles met them as they
advanced, mowing down their exposed ranks, and carry-
ing death into evury part of the hand. For a moment
they recoiled before the galling fire, but, being maddened
by ill success, and frenzied by despair, they again“ bounded
forward with great agility, deternnned to avenge the death
of their comrades. But, fortunately for the whites, they
had time to reload their pieces, and as the assailants were
about to enter their cover, the edge of the bushes fringing
the thicket was wrapt in one continuous blaze of fire.
Then, bounding to their feet, the whites broke from their
hiding-place, and, answering the demoniac war-whoop o!
the savages with a triumphant shout, they attacked them
with such desperate courage, that they broke dinvn the
hilt, with precipitation, and in turn sought a friendly shei-
ter. ' J
Old Ebony gazed upon the contest with illeuppressca

 
   
    

 
 

   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
  
 
 
    
 

 

     
    
   

 

 

 

~ cave)“.

 

THE WOODMEN. 85 '

cm Him. He felt his inferiority. He knew that he could
not mingle in an atfray where the white man exerted lbil
powers, without, perhaps, incurring tt severe rebuke, and,
though brave as Julius Caesar, he was compelled, reluc-
tantly. to remain in inaction. But at length his feeling.
overcame all fear of censure. He became terribly exoited,
nud, unable any longer to maintain his neutral position,
he'gatht-red up a hiilet of wood, and sprung into the melee,
singing with much gusto some outlandish verses of his own
composition, made apparently to suit the occasion : ‘

“ Like Solomon, in de Holy Scriptures,
Wielding de jawbone ot‘ an ass;
I‘ll spile some oh your infarunl pictures,
And spill your blood upon de grass.

Ah! new yell, ye blood-lioumlsob ole Mk,
And shout ag‘in your battle-cry!

For dis ole sinner hab got a stick,
To make de heathen bleed and die."

He uttered a shrill “ coek-a-doodle-doo," after he had
finished his song, which embraced as much real, genuine
defiance in its peculiar intonatious, as the clear notes of
old Chanticleer himselt‘ exhibits in his native barn-yard.
He then dashed in amongst the assailau's, and wielded his
pou-lerous war-club with womlerl'ttl eil‘ect. His strength
was Herculean, and once inspired with the exhilarating
spirit of battle, he executed-teats worthy of u more exalt-
ed personage. '

When the noise of the conflict had died away, all again
assumed the deep quietude of the grave. The sublime
stillness ot‘ the forest was complete. Not a bird or livingr
insect gave token of its presence. All nature, ultimate
and iuaniunte, scented hushed in repose. ’l‘he limbs of
the tall pines hung motionless iu the uir, and no living
thing indicated this as the battle-ground ot' hueeontendittg
hosts, strugin lg even unto death for the mastery! [’14--
umu tut-ms Were dispersed over the’ earth, it was true;

l

 

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
    
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
   

   

86 THE WOODMEN.

the power of locomotion, volition, and all the grand ma-

chinery, the prerequisites of a living, breathing and rea< ,,
soning being, had departed from the earth~bound tene~ » ’
ment. No sounds escaped from their blood-stained lips.

But the effects of the fierce passions of angry Inan ware

present. Those inanimate forms of what were once men,

with brows radiant with the moral image of God, roaming

the free earth in the prideof consummate strength—blessed

with a. reasonable portion of common sense, though wild

in their nature as the limitless forests in which they loved ‘ "
to roam, told a tale replete with horror. ‘

Time passed on rapid wings. The sun disappeared be-
hind the blue hills of the West, and a bank of dark clouds ' .
drifted swit‘tly towards the East. The solemn hush of the_
forest was succeeded by fitt‘ul gusts of wind, that whistled
with mournful cadence through the sombre pines, and
seemed like a requiem for the repose of the silent dead.

Night closed in upon the scene. Its dark mantle ren-
veloped the earth in gloomy shadows, and here and there 7
a single star shed its feeble rays through the interstices of
the clouds. K

The long-continued silence of the Hurons was porten-
tous of approaching evil. They had some scheme in con—
templation, and only waited the darkness of night-to put I
it in suceesst'ul operation. The whites grew impatient for
some manifestation of their design, but the overwhelming
ill-luck of the savages had made them wary and circum- n- ,._.
spect in the extreme.

“,Well, now,” exclaimed David Thompson, his desire to
speak getting the better of his habitual silence, “ Well.
now, it", that don't beat all hatur'. Them lyin‘ warmints
sr’ consultin' some deviltry, or they think we are goin’ to
team up: hidin’-plaee, to gin ‘em a chance at our scales;
but they’ll he mightily mistaken in their knowledge 0' a
white-skin, What! As I'm a mortal man, fashioned ar-
ter the image 0’ the Maker, the pesky thieves have set the .
woods on tire! It's a Wee spark now, but the next put}
0‘ wind wii' t'nn it inter a fierce blaze. ’I‘har, see its
!orked tongues, how they lick up tbe‘dry grass and leaves

     
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
 

 

Tl'I’E WOODMEN. 87

in thar woracious jawsl AV, and thnr's a redskin with
I hunch o’ hurnin’ lla'gs in his hand, trailin’ the rampaging
I element along the side o’ the mountain! Now, thacgh
I‘m averse to spillin’ human blood, when thar's no neces- \
.— ‘ I lity for it, we‘ll try the power 0' my old speakin' trucan-t.
She's as good a piece as (ever was sighted, and when site
speaks, she in general brings the reptyles howlin' to the
iyarth. I never knoWed her to miss, though I reckon as
how she’s spoke to the number 0' at least a. hundred red<
“ ’ skins in her time; and them as she didn't double up with
V I pain in thar entryles, seampered oll' with a. hole in th -ir
hides. made by a ball sent. by n seven-grooved hat-rel.
Lordl how funny it war to sve'em tenrin’ through the
. bush as if old Nick had kicked ’em in een ‘."
After delivering himsell'ol‘ this speech, the old forester
laughed heartily in the subdued way of a hackwoodslnan,
. and then, after a momentary pause, he continued : ,
“Now, my friends, see how that imp o‘ tarnati H1 will
double up inter a knot, as all on 'em together ctn‘t un-
tie. I’ll plant the mettle right ker-wallop inter his abdo-
mimls."
The old backwoodsmnn deliberately elevated his long
rifle to his shoulder, and, for a single instant, his eye
gl ’tlmctl along the fatal instrument, the finger was pressed
gently upon the trigger, a loud report succeeded, and the
bullet was hurled with a hissing sound through the air, on
w I, _ its errand of death. The ineantions wretch threw his
1 arms aloft in the wildest despair, and then denllling him-

! self'up into a. knot, as the old lll'lll had predicted, and ll!-
tering an agonizing shriek, he fell forward on his face and
expired.

This unforseen event Was followed by a yell of dx-fl ince,
blended with a thirst of vengeance, long, loud and territle,
from the savages. Their ranks were being reduced by a
slow but infallible process, but they still had sanguine
' hopes of eVentuaIly triumphhtg over their exulting adww-
, . , ‘ series. It was true, all expelients hitherto essayed thal
signally failed; but supposing there Were no means of
clnvcking‘the wild hurricane of tire. uo rushing down upon

 

  

    

    

88 ‘ 'I‘llE WOODME'N.

the whites, with a speed ant volume_ that threatened ine-

vitable destruction, they awaited the issue with confident
expectations of a favorable result. At every succeeding

puff of wind, the roaring confligration was hurled toward

them with increasing,r velocity. Its forked tongues, some- I
times leaping up in the air for many feet, would bound for-
ward at each gust of wind, and roll along amongst the dry
grass and leaves, like a huge ball, blasting every living
shrub in its path, and leaving the earth behind black and
desolate. The snapping and cracking of burning bush,
and the hissing of the il-nues, ware incessant; whilst to
render the scene still more grand and terrific, the demo-
niac war-whoop of the llurons grew more loud and fre-
quent, interrupted at intervals by the crash of falling trees,
those gigantic monarchs of the forest, that had stood for \
hundreds of years unharmed by the tempt-st, and uu- . . V
scathed bythe liglitniugs of heaVen. And a large packof
wolves, too, attracted to the spot by the scent of blood,
set up their dismal howls, as if fearful that the devouring
element would consume the dead carcasses scattered
promiscuously over the ground, and deprive them of their
wonted feast.

The less experienced ot‘ the band of whites gazed upon
the scene with thrilling emotions. They dreaded the re-
sult, and how to avert the evil celiSequences they knew
not, and could only await in silence for others, more fer-
tile in resources, to devise some expedient for the occasion. \ v "u _
All felt the peril to be imminent, and each gazed into the ‘\
countenance of the other, to gather hope from its expres- ' »
siou. Blanche, who had glided almost unseen into the
group, looked pale and haggard. Her eyes were swollen
with recent Weeping, and she appeared the very imperso- \
nation of despair, though still more exquisitely beautiful
than ever. Her long raven tresses flowed in graceful
ringlets about her alabaster neck, and her lofty br tw had \
grown more intensely white by her sufferings. Miles
clasped her fondly to his breast, and his soothing words { 
acted like a balm to her woundel spirit. '
“Fear not, dear Blanche; hope still inspires Our hearts

   
 
 
    
    
  
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

THE WOODM EN. 89

with confidence. Colonel bresap, who is a tower of
strength, is sanguine of overcoming the cunning of our in-
exorable enemies. They are cruel and bloodthirsty, but
the superior sagncity of the while man must triumph over
their subtle tricks. We have already taught them a les-
’ \ son that will prevent their closer approach, and whilst
‘ they remain at a distance, but little danger need be appre-
, bended. Be composed, then, dearest Blanche," and then
4 A, ‘ solemnly pointing to Hunvt'n, he added: “and if all hu-
.1 s ‘; mnn resources prove ineffectual, Ilis omnipotcnt arm will N
— _. freely be interposed in our behalf.”

i“ “The Lord forgive them their murderous deviltrics l"
exr-luimed David Thompson. “They have hemmed us in
with fire and tomahawk, and at" now skulking about to
ease us .0' the lm’r natur' plucctl on our heads as orna-

V v mints. But they'll (liskiVer as how the pale-face is no
 more without. his lurnin’ than a fox is of nat’ral instinct.

" They must be outwitled, or the wolves that’s prowlin’
about will pluck the flesh from our bones before the risin‘

0‘ another sun."
“The I-Inrons are dogs," said Logan; “ and when a Mingo
\ lifts his Voice in anger, the whole nation howls." ,

“Well,” said Daniel Browning, “thar‘s two ways to
cheat the ilnps ont‘n their game. The first is to rake the
leaves away rernent this old bog. to gin’ us a place to
stand on, and when the fire and smoke comes close enough
to hide us from the reptyles, to set ’en on fire on the op-
posile side. By the time the flames o' yonder fire reach
us, the thicket will be clean as if swept by a new broom.
' . Howli ye accursed serpents o’ the yarth," he continued,

\ «as another fierce yell of exultntion was borne past on the
wind, "that‘s all the satisfaction yell ever git; for thé
wisdom o' ginnine white folks will head you in your in-

, Iarnal willainy—if it don‘t, my eye never squinted along I
i title—barrel."
‘ “And the other?" inquired Colonel Cresap.
 “Plain as daylight. It is to gin the rcd~skins the slip,
 A _ , by slidiu’ down the‘face o’ the rock, 03‘ here to the right,

  

 

 

  

90 THE WOODMEN.

into the rivulct, and follow its course until we git ont'n
the hearin' o' the skulkin’ knztves."

After a brief consultation, the latter expedient was res
solved upon as the more feasible. They had not; long to

nit an opportunity to put it into operation. The roaring
and crushing of the confltgrntion, as it extended its red
artus'to the right: and left, was most terrific. The wind
had swelled into a gnle. forcing large volumes of smoke
3nd vapor in the direction of the besieged. Availiug
themselves of the friendly protection thus nfibrded, they
silently withdrew from their perilous position on the
knoll, and, one by one, sliding down the frightful pre-
cipice, entered the stream. Its waters gIOWed beneath the
light of the devouring element, like a stream of liquid mn-
her.

“Now, friends,” whispered D'tvid Thompson, “be
quick, but silent. In a reg'lar scnmper like this, from the
\riciuity o‘ Injin neighbors, who have a. wolfish hankerin‘

arter our scalps, it would be Well to mind how we set our .

fee-t in the water, for the ears 0’ airedsskin ar’ mighty keen.
Keep your heads down, and mind the rocks."

“ ’l‘tmr’s wisdom," said Daniel, in a subdued tone,
“tln~1"s wisdom in that. We must be sarcumspect, or
we’ll have the whole yelpiu’ crew on our scent, like so
many t'ntnpngin’ devils. We must leave no trail behind,
for I've sometimes thought Iujin natur’ could follow the
flight o‘ a pigeon through the air, and scent the track 0’ a
deer through the bush"—

A low, hissing sound, like that of a snake, interrupted
the old qackwoodstnan, and a. scarcely audible whisper ran

through the party, giving them to understnnd that new \

dangers threatened them. The hissing came from the lips
of Logan, who was a short distance in advance. [Its tall,
gniuly form, so exquisite in its symmetrical proportions
when standing erect, was bent slightly forward; one foot
thS raised, as if in the not of stepping, and his fine Gre-
cian head wus gently inclined to the left, to assist! his of:
guns of hearing. A rustling in the leaves denoted the ap-
proach of some one, and in a moment the pendent branches

  

  

     

'l'IlE WOODMEN. 91

wore noiselessly thrust aside, and Elk-Foot stood in the
presence of Mingo. His astonishment was complete. For
a moment he stood as if fa<ciuated. IIis brilliant eyes
glared wildly from one to another of the startled party,
and at last were fixed with a piercing look upon the rigid

2 and iron—like features of Logan. _ The noble Chief encoun~

xered the gaze of his advorsary with a look as stern and
unflinching as that of the eagle, when his eye is riveted
upon the broad glare of the sun.

“A Mingo is a cooing dove,” exclaimed Elk-Foot, in

[the melodious language of the Huron, “that fears the

cwoop ot' the haw a."

“The Huron,” answered Logan, whilst every lineamont
of his dark countenance was illuminated with a gleam of
savage ferocity, “is a singing-hird. llts heart is full of
lies. A Mingo is a warrior. His tail is crimsoned with
the blood of the IIurous. There will be wailing amongst
their lodges. Many went on the war-path, but will never
return."

“A Mingo boasts like a silly squaw. When the hawk
conquers his prey, we know it by the feathers he leaves
behind." ‘ '

“‘Behold!” exrlnlmed Logan, exhibiting the trophies
of his prowess, “ these shall smoke in the Wigwam of a
Mingo.”

A malignant soowl settled like a thunder-cloth! upon
the brow ot' Elk-Foot, and he (ltfllln‘l‘fllt'ly raised his tom-
nhawk, and hurled it with all the three of his arm. full at
the head of Logan, and at the same time shouted his wild
war-whoop, in ‘.ones so long, fierce and formidable, that it
caused the hot blood for an instant to staguato iu the. Vt-ing,
'l'he wary Chief was as quick as his subtle mlversary.
Bending forward to evade the blow aimed at his life, he
drove his keen seaming-knife through and through the
throat of the Huron. Then, tearing off the tuft. of hair,
which, through a nice :\[)[)l‘ct'ltlil()ll of that chivalrous
honor so Characteristic of Indian warriors he had Shift-red
to grow upon the crown of his head, and sending back into

/

‘

 

 

 

THE WOODMEN.

tthe very teeth of the Hurons a victorious shout, Logan led
the way, at a rapid pace down the stream.

After the laps- of a few moments, which sut‘fleed to
place several hundred yards between the antagouiSts, a
prolonged and mournt‘ul yell, sounding in the gale like the
last wailings of a crushed and broken spirit, ere it parts
forever from the material frame, reached the ears of. the
fugitives.

“'Tis the redskins mourning over their Chief.” whis-
pered Daniel Browning, aVaiiing himself of a momentary
pause in their flight to speak. “I conclude we'll not be
troubled with thar kind attentions any more. arter that
sound drubbin‘; if we do, I'm no judge of Injiu natur',
that's sartin.”

“That's true, Dan'cl," said David. “ unless we meet
another band 0’ the evil-doors atwixt this and the settle-
ment, which, cousideria‘ all things, isn‘t likely. If we
do, howsomthlr, the Lord forgive me the wicked thought,
the crack 0' my rifle will be heard many times in the wil-
derness; for there’s no keepin’ a man back when his blood
is fired with anger. I've slain many red-skins in my day;
but, thank the Lord, it was done in defence o‘ my old and
worn-out our ass."

“ Self-preservation," said Miles, in reply, “is the primary
law of Nature. All law t'ec'vguiz-s it as a fundamental
principle, established l'rom the very nature of things. You
slew the savages in defence of life, and from no maliciqu
motives, and that fact affords ample justification. ' 'l‘he
uphraidings of your conscience will never molest you on
that score.” '

“I know but little, my boy,” answered Divid, whilst
a melancholy smile played about his countenance. “ I
know but little consaruin‘ the nalur‘ 0' law, and whilst I
remain a wanderer on the face 0' the ’arth, which can’t
be long, for my old frame is much afllicted 0’ late, l bone
to have but little to do with what seems a useless contrap—
tion; but I know that when an evil-disposed red-skin
raises his hand in malice aforethought to take that away
which the Creator in His wisdom bestOWed, and I speak

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

  

 

 

 

 
 

'I‘IIE WOODMEN. , 93

to him through the muzzle o' my rifle, I violate no law 0‘,
God or man."

“Them’s my sentiments," ejaculated Daniel Browning.
“ If one 0' the evil sarpeuts chonscs to risk lns sealp, I’m

.not one to violate the laws 0' the land, but old Blazer

Would plug it to him quicker nor a beaver could dive un-
der water. But, if so be, you‘re all willin’, will push for-
ward on the home—path. The yelliu’ 0’ them pesky imps
o' thukness still rings in our ears, and its not. safe to
furry long in the neighborhood.” '

They moved ofi‘, little suspecting that one of the. most
inveterate and inexm'ahle of their enemies was pursuing
their trail with a (loggedness of resnlution that pox-tended

1' sueeess in his dark schemes.

The scene of the stirring occurrent‘es—manifestations of
man's conflicts and his passions—whieh we. have been en-
dettvoriug to portray, wits, at. the time of which we are
writing, a limitless forest, rohed with gigantic trees, whose
tall, straight trunks rose up majestieally to an immense
height; and interlaced their huge, branches insuch a man-

Iner as to form an almost endless canopy in places so dense

as to exclude the rays of the, sun. But time and the re-
lentless ax of the Woodch have done much to destroy the
magnificent growth of tnnher. Its grandeur has partially
disappeatwl; and where tho Wolf‘ and the panther set. up
their dismal howls, and the fox and bear dwelt in profound
security; where the nntutored savage, roamed in quest of
game, performed the war-dance to the, monotonous music
of his rude instrument, or uttered his diabolit-al .tinCanta.
tions around the doomed victim, there are now nohle
farms, on .whieh the contented husbandlnan “plies the
siaews of industrious toil,” and reaps a handsome rotun-
nl‘i’llliUU. At. every step, his happy song, blended with
the lowing of countless herds and tinkling bells, stvells
Iu'eelly upon the ear. Seareely a vestige of the bound-
less West. which a hundred years ago encumbered the
earth, now remains to remind us of what it one» was.
Bad havoc has been waged in its mighty depths. Mmy of
its noble trees have long since been converted into ships——

 

  

 

    

94

those floating palaces of the ocean, those miniature worlds,
types of man’s ingenuity, and of his indomitable energy
and perseveranCe—and are now skimming the waves of
the mighty deep, battling with the fierce elements like
things instinct with life.

One hundred years ago, the Alleghany Mountains were
recognized as the boundary between civilization and bar-
bnrism. Here the savage met his white brother in mortal
coilit-t. He waged a. war of extermination, and met ex-
tinction. Here was the Far West of those days, and now
it is at the mouth of the Columbia RTver, far atvay beneath
the beautiful regions of the setting sun. Truly, the light
of our luminous course has been distinguished by aston-
ishing progression, and the fruits of that progression is
boundless prosperity. A century ago, civilization was
eompr'Zed within a narrow belt of land, lying immediately
along the shores of' the Atlantic Ocean, the average breadth
of which did not exceed five degrees, but to-day it
embraces within its huge arms the whole limitless ,eon-
tinent. But if our course, in subduing a hemisphere
from a state of nature. and peopling it with a patient, la-
borious and industrious people, has been marked by un-
equalled rapidity in the history of the world, our progress
in the arts and sciences has been no less brilliant and tri-
umphant. We take a just pride in landing our native
land ; she deservvs all our laudation, notwithstanding
foreigners have called this cltaractoristie ol‘ the true Amer-
ican a national self-glorification which she is in no wise
entitled to. But if they take a retrospective View of the
Mist, when she sprang forth, Minerva-like, all arm ml, and
lmllt-ntxin: a parallel in the history of the nations that had
,reeeded her, they will discover much lo astoniin thetn,
Llu-h to exciie our “national selllglorilieation." liutnan‘
(imputation (:nn scat-eely form an adequate idea of the

THE WOODML‘N.

amazing progress in everything we have u‘ulertaken.’

whether it 's - in erecting noble steamers, building fast-sail-
ing yachts, in hoth ol‘ which We have fairly beaten the
Wot l, or in original invuntions; nor can it form anything

even approximating to a correct estimate of the UVl.‘|'[)U\"

     

 

 

 

a"

 

  

\
THE \VOODMEN. 95

ering grandeur (it"mtr future destiny. When we endeavor
to penetrate the future, our eyes become duzzled with its
glory and magnificence. ‘

I Miles Howard end his companions hastened forward on
itheir homewnrd path as rztpi'lly as the nature of the cir-
cumstances would allow. Their progress was mztr ked by
many difficulties In some places their pnth was rugged in
the extreme; here penetrnting the intimate lubyrinths of
the forest; there ell-unb-ring up the precipitous sides of
the mountain. covered with innumerable trunks of trees,
which time and the notion of the elements hnd hurled from
their pei'pt‘irlioliizti' positions, and scattered prmniseuously
over the ground; and then ngnin penetrating,~ deep gorges,
roll-1h with shut-p :tnd jagged rocks, and dangerous to life
and limb.

But their vicinity to hostile Indians, ready at any mm
ment to avail themselves of every opportunity to grntil'y
their true] thirst for hutn nn blood imparted renewed energy
to their footsteps. 'i‘o renutiu for nny length of time in
in close proximity to them, would be sure to beget re-
venget'ul feelings, whieh would instigate them to the per-
petrntion of some oulrngeous not, whenever their vigilance
should slnck. They, therefore, struggled onwnrd with
unwenried diligence, and when the morning light dnwned
upon the enrth. they were many miles from the scene of
the late (:onflit't. The tilll'k clouds ot‘ the previous night
had entirely diSuppt-:tl’ed. and nothing was to be seen
nbove but the xnensnrelt-ss expnnse oi' henVen, rendered
more serenely benutit‘nl by the golden glories of the sun,
flooding; its :tzure depths.

Morning in the \\'i1 lerness is most. grand and beautiful.
Ancient poets have likened it to the spring-time ol‘ life,
when youth, with its sanguine hopes and glorious inspira-
tion first, dnu'netl upon us: and how true and benutit'ul is
iihe Cutttpnt'iStm! Morning is usually :tccmnphnied with
the genittl rays of the sun, and the bright dew, Sparkling
upon shrub and flower, like elusters,ot‘ glittering din-
monds, intpux‘ting n grutet‘ul freshness to everywng in
nature. Hope and innocence, nugei-Visilunts, pi“‘lCflL in

  

 
  
 

 

  

 

    

  

’ 96 Til/E WOODMEN.

the spring-time of life, but gone before the sore leaf of
autumn comes. inspire the heart with gladness. as the
morning sunheams cause all things to smile beneath their
bright elfulgence. The bird semis forth its sweetest
hymn; the laborious little bee sweeps by, humming its
monotonous song, whilst afar off the lowing of the herds,
and the chiming of distant bells are heard. But alasl the
bright anticipttions of childhood, like the glorious light of
heaven shut out by dark clouds, are too often obscured by
the mists and vapors of disappointxm-nt. '
Dawn discovered the Red Caps and their companions
in the midst of that vast range of hills, comprising the
eastern chain of the Alleghany Mountains. Their lofty
Cones. crowned with colossal pines, looking like “mailed
warriors, wooing the virgin sky," were gilded by the first
beams of the sun; and, as they stood upon their towuring
summits, gazing in admiration at the magnificent scene he-
neath, and l)(‘]i(‘Vl.ig themselves secure from further mo-
lestation from the savages, the shrill crack of the rifle
sent it sharp vibrations through the air, and then, dying
away in the. distatme, was succeeded by a long. loud and
/ terrifying \\'ar-\\'hoop. Every cleft and gorge in the grand
old mountains c tught up the reVenaet‘ul cry, and it appear-
,ed as though a thousand echoes prolonged its_horrid import.
Suspecting nothing. they nutnil’ested symptoms of Sur-
prise at the suddenness of the attack. There was some-
thing totully unexpected in the report of the rifle, and in
the ytrll of savage triumph that followed; and, though
familiar with the woods, and the revengeful passions of
their wild (lcllth'llS, yet they must have been endowed
with more than human foresight to have foreseen that a
lavage, cruel and malignant, with an appetite for human
gore us Voraeious as the graVe, was stealing with noise-
less steps upon their trail. None hut the all-seeing eye
of God could have known of his stealthy progress toward,
the accomplishment of n Cold, deliberate and malicious de-
Sign, which was to result in such fatal consequem-es
Through the provision of an, all-wise Providence: tutu'y.
vision has been circumscribed. His finite mind has not

l

 

 

   

 

\ THE WOODMEN. 97

been endowed with power to penetrate the mists of the
future, and comprehend the dark mysteries secreted in its
mighty womb. His sight is limited to the present.

The habitual inflexibility of the countenance ot‘ Logan
for an instant relaxed into an expression ot‘ soiieitn-ie, as
his eyes in turn encountered the eyes of each one of the
party. His look was at length intently fixed upon old
David Thompson, from whose hrawny chest a dark stream
of blood was issuingr forth, and trickling down over his
rude garments.
that the life of the old man was rapirlly ebhing away in
the crimson tide bnhhling from the ghastly wound; and,

acting upon the impulse of the moment, he darted nWay ‘

intovthe bushes in pursuit of the brutal savage. But, at
that moment, a warning signal met his ear, and as he
paused, the uncrrin;r rifle of D miel Browning fell heavily
into the extended palm of his hand, and was deliberately
raised to his face.

A short distance to the right hand of the party there
Was 11 hiin and precipitous lodng of rocks. They rose to
an immense altitude, and seemed to sustain by their indiQ
viduid strength the combined weight and pressure of the
mountain. Around the base of this natural wall. the sav-
age had slmpdd his course, unseen, and by the aid of tho
scanty herbage growing out of the fissu res in the rocks,
he had ascended the dangerous ledge to the very top, and
now stood upon the awful Verge. lIis feet were planted
on a single crag, projecting over the precipice. Nothing
could have induced him to Venture upon it, but an nttt-r
recklessness of life, and a desire to accomplish his object,
for a breath, a pallet wind, or the slightest movement. of
the crng. must have dashed him headlong down the preci-
pice. In his efforts to preserve his equilibrium upoi the

perimns hrink, he had («posed a small portion of his holy.
The quick eye of Dmirl Browning had detected it. an!
but a single second elapsed, after the rifle was raised to
his face, when a bright sheet of. flow: illuminated his
Weather-beaten countenance for a moment, and was imme-
Fur a

diately succeeeded by a shriek of mortal agony.

     

AA single glance satisfied the noble Chief ’

  

 

    

TllE WOODMEN.

fleeting instant, the form of the daring savage, horribly
convulsed, was seen clinging spasmodically to the rock.
then his hold relaxed, and he fell backward over the Crag,
and was dashed to pieces against the rocks at the base. a
thousand feet below. |

Old David Thompson made strenuous efforts to conceal
the expression of pain stealing over his sun-burnt features,
‘tnt mortal strength could not triumph over the workings of
nature. His countenance gradually assumed an appear-
ance of intense agony, and his thick breathingr showod that
his career upon earth was limited to a period of short du—
r’ation. He felt that the angel of death was rapidly ap-
proaching, and made an effort to speak. ’I‘hey raised him
up to a sitting position, when he gazed intently for a mo-
ment upon the rising,r sun, and then said:

“This ar’ the last time I shall behold his beams. My
hour is at hand. It’s hard to leave this beautiful earth,
where we’ve hunted the deer, and trapped the beavur; but
it’s the will 0' Heaven, and I submit. Perhaps, arter all,
the idees o' the red-skins ar’ correct, and thar may be a
happy huntiu‘-ground above, where the braves go, to dwell
in peace forevter. If so, I wish to go thar. I wish to go
to a land whar thar’s everlastin’ peace.and good will
amongst men. |

“ Dan‘el, my old comrade, good-bye! Your old friend
is on his last ’arthly hunt. A little while, and I shall
cease to be numbered amongst the living. I‘m an old
spruce, through whose branches the winds 0' many win-
tcrs have whistled. The sap has left the trunk, and the
worm is at the heart. Now, Dm‘el, listen to the Words
0' the dyin’ maul Forsake the woods and thar dangers.
Go among your friends, and live thar till you're called l'or.

“Logan, my good friend, farewdl. ' I need not s-w,
gin up the forest; it's your natur' to remain in it. Take
my rifle—it will sometimes remind you 0‘ your old com<
fade, David Thompson. She‘s as good a. piece as ever
was fired; but let. not her crack be heard in a. dishonest
cause. And now, Miles, my boy," he continued, with
difficulty, “come here, you and Miss Blanche. I solemnly

 
 

 

 

 

  

'I‘HE WOODMEN. 99

Chunk the Lord, who, I’m goin’ to meet face to thee, tlnt
you're safe. I'm not long for this world, but thar’s one
let that. I must see performed first. Nntur' intended it,
and it~ must be so. Thnr. I place her hand in yonr‘n.
You love each other, nnd if the blessin' 0’ an old :tn‘l dy-
in' man shall avnil, you’ll be happy. Gml bless, you!
God bless this little band 0' men! ‘ I die in pence!"

A tear trembled in the old man's eye, over which thu
film of death was rapidly spreading. and ran down his fur-
rowed checks. As the time of his final departure ap-
pronched, his hand trembled violently, and he scented to
be much exoited. Ills lips parted, and in nvoice loud and
distinct, he shouted:

“Dun’ell Lognnt gin it to the evil ones. Huzml vic-

‘tory's sure! llnzznl huz"-—

And thusthe old man expired, imagining himself in'
battle with his inveterate foes the savages. Tours of
heartfelt grief bedewed the cheeks of every one of that
little party _

Under the direction of Colonel Cresnp. n litter was
formed, on which was plnced the last earthly remains of
the kind-hearted old bnckwoodsnmn. The sad procession
then renewed their line of march, and toward evening en-
tered the settlement. We will not, dwell upon the d:er
spirit of dosolntion that brooded over the valley of the Po-
tomnc. ‘ \

01d Ebony looked around him for n moment, as if at 1
loss to comprehend what had tuken place. All seemed
like a dream. Ills ungainly form scanned to uxpmnl tum“-
fold in size nt the remembrancelof the wrongs the savages
hndinlliete-l upon the Settlement, and he exclaimed I“ a
mournt‘ul voice:

“Dem mnreilvss llc:tlllt'lll day's neber satisfied wid
Iheddin’ de hlood ob innm-cnt l'olks. Flb‘t, dey kih ole
mussa, and burn up do house; den dey curry away young
missn, and, now dey done kill Mnssn Thompson, [)5
Lord send He Vengcnntm upon ’em. Day‘s too bad to
live upon dis'nrth, and nin't fit to'go no place, 'Ccm where

'ole Nick hab his home. Dley’s as false as de debt], and

    

 

\
l

' 100 ' THE WOODMEN.

foul as he dwellin’ place. Nebcr catch dis n‘gg at In a»
clnws ag‘in.”

Autumn disappeared. Winter, with its ittylletters, come,
and wns succeeded by spring, with its gt ninl shown, its
bright buds of promise, impregnating the air with their de-
licious fragrance, and its greenswnrd. Tlte earth was '
lnden with the beauty of ‘9. new crentiou, and the trans--
parent flrmnment was without a. cloud. The last, trace of
deported dny still lingered in the clear heavens, anl sited
its.mngic coloring over its fair 9. scene as ever blessed the
sight of the weary pilgrim.

It. was on this eve of exquisite beauty, that a joyous as~
semblrige had convened at Skipton, the thelling place of
Colonel Cresnp. A bevy ot‘ bright—eyed dmusels, with
their bewitcliing smiles. tricked out in all the finery of the
times, good, substantinl homespun pellieonts, surmounted
with sucks, similar to those of latter-day fishions, were
present; and gullitnt youths, und stern visuged men, each
bearing,r in his hand the never-failing rifle, were also there.
The Red Caps ncted ns sentinels; for Indian bostilitlel
were tie-tin about to be \Vnged upon the exposed frontier.
Then Miles lIowurd led his beautiful bride to the altar,
and after it sweet hymn had been sung, and n solemn hm. .
cation offered up to the throne of Grace by the good and
pious missionary, they were united. They lived h-ippy
together, and (lied at :1 green old age, leaving it numeroth
posterity, who still boast of their descent from Miles How-
ard nud his wit'e Blanche.

Old Dutiel Browning never returned to the woods. Act.
in}: upon the advice of liisold companion, lie remained with
Milt-s llownrd, and lie and old Ebony ulwnys took great tie-i
light in “sliculdering their eruteln-s, and fighting their but»
tle.» over nguiu,” to the no little amusement ot' the young
llou’nrds growing up around them. In a few years old‘
Daniel was laid beside the remuius ol' lhvid Thompson,
and then Ebony followed. The three slept‘quittly mtg)i
ther on the banks of the‘I’otomac, and its ripping wave.
sound like a mouruful requiem to their departed“ ipirits.

 

\ f  H
DIME DI’ALOGUE
For School Exhibitions and Home Entertainments.

ho. l (.021 luck-ire. 151-35“; T‘npnlnr Dinlnrnu nnrl Drnmnl In nth book. Each volume 109
limo pugua, wut you-paid, un ruwipt ul‘pricu, Luu cuutu.

.Beadle & Adams, Publishers, 98 William st" 15’. Y.

The" volume-a hut: henn prcpnrml with espe‘r l n-rmnm lo thnlr urnllnblllxy Inr mummy."
V 1-: udnplml tu schuula uml ulrlul‘l wuh or Without lhu lurnlxure n l unuuunuul lulled l-v Sljlh
e AND YOUNG PEOP of every I 30.11qu lnulu uml l'cnmla. It i4 lnlr to nslunm ll. .1
r lmnlu in the man at, M. unv price, coumiu lu many useful uud nvailathlu dialogues Huddr‘u.’
Ht, pazhon, huuwr ALJ sentiment.

DIME DIALOGUES, N0. 1.

90llng of ths Mus". For nine ynunz lmliw- llnbnnhhlng. For llve I enkeru.
filling: 1| Lina Englishman. For t .rne bnyn. Thus SHer ul Succus. 'ur than speaker-I.
sn‘ul Cor-math)". l-‘ur mule und female. \‘nung Al rim. 'l‘hreo mnlu nml two I’mnnlu,
thin”. Fur two lmlwa. an hlnc‘l Dt-Atiuy. Four I'emnln, onnmnlo.
he Rehearsal. err six bnvs. The ‘ully of the Dual. For lllrwe "uh-speakers.
.v/hlch will ynu Churn“! Fur lwoMyI. Dngllmllsm. For lhremuule wankers.
The Qlluun uf .\1n\' F ' / The l 'nurnut Coulnundml. Fur two huyfl.
The Ten-Pnny. urlnurlmllea. The th‘l Young M n. For twn mnlu.
Three Scent-:4 in thlml Lil. . .‘lnloand fomnlr . ‘s llz-cknnlnc. 12 feumlu “lull mnln.
“a. snim,.,' Cumnuiuu. For mule mul fulnule. .‘ x lnue with ()nc Ganuumuu. For fig)“ f.
The Miulcm of the Spirits. Yin: young lmllui. l mulon 13.111 01.0 mule.

DIME DIALOGUEflVNO. 2.

The Genius nfL'horly. ‘2 males and l fomnlo. Hnw lo rile ‘ I‘l'pnlnr’ Stories. 'l‘wo Ind".

Cinderella: or. 'Im 'ttln UL.“ Slipper. ’l' Nuwmul tlw UN. Fur twu 17ml“.

Dunn; Gum! and 54 : Bml. Severn! l hummer]. h . Fur twn umlul.

Tue Golden Rulv. 'l'u‘o mulu "1-5 SM) luumlch. 'l‘hu (in-unlmru. F lwn males.

The Gift of the ll‘uiry Qucuu. Sevuml females. The Three Mun nf lenvo. For four malal.

'l'uk n '1 : mul D n.- Fnr. Fru- wn ullnrnV'h‘rs. Thu Ol-l Lutly'q \\'i|l. Fur fuur mum.

Tin Ca nlry Auut’s \‘m H»: Luv Cl: . liar nov- The Little l'hll .m .lvers. For two lixllo glrlu.
em] clmruvtm. ll-wv to Find nu ll’n-ir. Fur live - ulul.

The Tm: Rmnnus. Fur two nmln. Thu Vlrmes. l“: r ‘ yum-g Lunch

’l'ryinz [he ('huructers. Fu- lhrw mnln. A Counuhlul E ‘

The l'hppv qullv. For arvrrul - uni .mll.‘ The Pub”: 1» “MIN Fivnmnlnund antlbe

The ltuubow. For Ian-nu cL.ructcrI. The Eugli-h Trawler. For twomlu. 1'

DIME DIALOGUES. N0. 3.
The "av Queen. For nn enlh. whnnl. Th9 Gu'J-Iel Cook. Fur two mall-I.
1"... It“: r... (gm-mu“... 1» .r m. runny", .\ll|'i'fllIlm'R. Fur two mules nu. two female-A
Ree lug BMlCnuu-unv. A Fur“. FA nlvunmlu. ’l‘l-o l'wo Rommu. For two muluu.
Conrtluu Under Dillirulllx-n. i mnlug, 1 frmulu. h! (Jame. Surnml nmuo. Forum mnlu. ,
NMionnl Repruseutntima. A Burk-mum. 4 mulu fi.I:'v'iI'r: Um Whit" Fm"; . 4 Imglca, l {emula-
Mping tho Draft. Fur numdrvul Inul-‘I. . 1"- Bulu' Clll- A “Winn”. 1'" "N “with

DIME DIALOKNES N0. 4.

'-’he Front K‘ :. Fnr (manure urinal. Stu vh'i'lOWH Vnhth-r. anlu, I (nm.k‘
‘inlmr in l. . ’l hrne mule All'l t n lumnlat‘ 't-m “ l'uul Pr) " For luur Innch
llth, H» a mu! Clmrlty. Fur th iltlo [MM r‘ , ms. I-ur lhrud n‘nlu nnnl one lumnlln
«(‘3 an Jmn. Fur |\vo mule: uxrl N»:- l'mmle. ' - , l. and U'ouul. l-‘w thh-u liltlu [ll'lL
ll 3 ény. A Floral FANCY. For sl)’ lht u glrlu. ‘ 1' ' _- AC4rllanIy. For two Loy-
oEuchnnuu l’riucvu. ‘2 lllnlel Mvvnru) lut'lmlul “'11:” the L-m vr Suyn. For tum muln. I
mrto \thlnllun r in Due. 7 ,nules, l ’ernulu 'lIho (‘rluu-q of Duns. A Cohluy. Fnr mom"

lmullu Client. Furuvuml nulvumue reu.nl.- l'a )tl- o! llvnevolunce. kor luux lull“.
ology. A Dluunion. For twenty mtlus. '1‘le Luuur. lur two mnlcn.

-r
p DIME DIALOGUL' S, I. 0. 5.
1?, 'fl hrpo Giana-rs. For urhnol nr tnrlnr. Putting on Mn. A Cnllnan. Fur two Imlu.
' out. A " Tbme l‘LrsA-n.‘ ” l u up. The Sn , \L M 7k. Inr alt-vrrnl hum, ,
d the Curtain. Fur mules and felllfllfifl. Two hlnns ol Lilo. A (‘ollnquy. 1w: Ion glrh.‘
0 Eu Pi Society. Five burs and A lcurher. letrrrt 'rmn Alurlnn Fhllern.

wuiuntlo | Dav. Formverul Imnule chat-noun 1 :.-ln~Mnn--y. AY‘I A-' l ‘l Charmin:

riding in “Tm’pl” Farwverul null»... The Six \‘lrtnun. Ivor x l: vnunu huh»:

“School Day- 'l‘rl'onnal. For ter burn. The: )rinhmnn at Home. Fur {m- 11ml“.
A Tongue. Suv-vrnl malt-a nvld fwnnlu. Funixlnuuhln qul’llTBmU-IICL hur tl-rea‘rlrlg
How N»: w an nu Amwu. For No luumlal. A Buvy at h (Elven). For dahwrlwhme girn

DIME DIALOGU. 8, N0. 5.
ThaWnYThv-VKOM nfiarret. hfnlfi and frmnlos. 'l'hn Two (‘nnnnolcm Fnr fhrna males.
'1" Put undir Dimculuen. Far five males. The Vnmrlal of Fully. For n llumbry qfln'mnlfl
Willi-m T For a who]. school. A unt Beta": Bet“. Fnur females and two mum.
'nman’l 8.1.11 Swen (omnlunnd two mulch. The Libel Sun. hr: lwn femnlun And on n+3;
LI ll not Gnld thn Gllttrrl. Male and lam..an hum Clnnn. Fm a human otlmvn.
Thian Jew. Tor lemnlzs. llThrlumn lrln- . For raver-l littl- ‘lrlfi.

' We. For Ihmnulu sud on. bank. rm Three n .3 F»: We mus

 

 

em: scuoox. snm.—spoakora and 15mm... \

 

BIKE DIALECT SPEAKER, No. 23.

Dark wnt’l do Mr, All about I boa,
The Min Ieippl miracle, Scandal,
Ven to Lido 20mm in, A dnrk tide View,
Dun llml rot ery hnf Te ener vny. l
«at 0n earning Gurmnn,
Pitt é’Flnherty n wo~ Mury’e rhinnll Vltu lamb
mln'l I'l‘li“. A healthy diecnuru,
The home mien, how Tobias no to epuk,
that~ “ linker," Old 3er. Grim“,
Hunkinh Duwwn on . parody,
Helium in-luw, \inrz null unis,
’14 didn’t sell uh: fnrm. lSill Underwood, pilot,
ho lnxe Itory ol' Frnnk. ()ld Granlay,

 

lin'l kiia, l‘he pill peddlor’l on-
I would 1 were it boy tiun,
lguin, Widder Green'e lent

WOI'Ll‘I,

DIME DIALO

oar enueim. Three lnlliel rind two gentlemen.
. lunntunm and mule-hilin. Six indie: and neural
putt-Aura.
A tut thnt did not fnil. Six bore.
Two Wll_\l or seeing things, Two little girls.
Dun't count _\our Clllckn'n! hulm'c they are
liniclw‘l. Four indies umi it buy.
All in hurl love llml wnr. .’i lfldlel. Q zvntlemon.
How nuclu Josh not rici l {the legacy. Two main,
with luvoml trnuni‘urmntioul.

A pullout: story,

 

Lute“ Clliueoe outrage, M M lsbor'l M“

The menilelt dn-tiuy oi Colldoxl‘eed Mythom
the lrielunnn, Pictul. '

Doggy Mer-um‘ The Nerelrln,

bpmyl lroln Joli: Bil Legend lfAttim,
lungs, The stov 1pc trend, ‘

De eircumlienm ob d» A dokewr I drubbing,
sitiwution. The coming men.

iDur's nulfiu new under The iiiignut M u

   

I lie nun, hlitidnon’e,
.A News religious poem, l‘luu little bnby rend.
1'1'l1nt Violin, a corner,

A guuewine infere
Our m-ndidute'n viewl, Au invilntiun to
LDurIdreuy’a mad )m. bird of liberty,
Pluiu innuuege by truth- The crow,

I {u title, lunt wart.

GUES No.26.

/

Thu leuon of mercy. Two very Imnll filth.
Prm‘ticn what you pram-h. Fodr ludicl.
Politician. Numeroulch-rncteri.
The cumming ngeut. 'l‘wo melee end tw-

femnlvs.
Grulr. 'l‘wo manl.
A night eclre. Three remain Ind one melt
l-Lmhmii d numhine. Tlil'el young indict.
How Jim Pater: dlcd. 'l we Inllgl-

‘Plcnlc delights,

DIME DIALOGUES No. 27.

Peuey O’Dnmi'e cnmpnign. For three males
nit-i one {rm lie.

llnuy inf-:runm not nlwnyl iuet. Numerou-

buys.
Dilenntentad Annie. For eeverul zirle.
A t‘lnliblu Iurprisn Four males nnd one form nle.
Wimt mm itl Fur tivoJmiles.
“'Imt will cure (hum! For n Imlynnd two boyl.
Imlupenilent. Fur numerous clmrncten.
Erich unean the host. For (uur hm'n.
Trlutl nml l‘uunui wuutiuu. Fnr wwml main.
A boy’u plot. For msveml chnrncierl.

DIME DIALO

A taut that told. For le young indie: nml two
gentlemen.

Orznuitiuz n debuting Inclrty. For (our boyl.
The nu'nkeniug. For fnur liltla Kll’ll.
The rebuke proper. For 3 auntiumun. ‘2 ladlel.
EXHrcllan an evil spirit. For le llhlll‘l.
liulh Ildlll of tlm funcn. For four mnlen.
Thu Ipiriu of thu wood. For two trnupu of girll.

DIME DIALO

Mo lhnll have the :iirtionnryl For nix typical
uqu churnctun uml lwu fwmnien
lm tent n! hrevsry. Fur (our boys and teacher.
Fortune’l win-Bl. For i’vur male clmructere.
The little mthetel. Fur Iix.little yirln.
The )EI and no ni‘unmke. For three little bnyl.
No references. 51: gentlemen nnrl three llullen.
MI mining (nod bm'. One malu, nne fenmle.
Wlfll n Vllll-RIlOnilld. For levernl lndlol.

The llh‘ol zlrl’n good angel. For two indie. A“
two Hui. “1.1..

“Thur. ungmteiul litth- nigger.” For two nub.

[H qui the money. For three ilttlr virln.

Appenmncu nre deceitful. For nevonl led-
nuri onu L’entlexnnu.

Love's protest. For two little girll.

An aniurcmi cure. For ei-verai chernctore. ‘

'i‘hmu- who prench nml than who perform. In
three Imilrl. _

A gentle conquut. For two young girh.

61128 No. 28.

No room for the drone. For three little Myfi

Arm-chair. For nuiuernm chnreclmn.

)leuure l'ur ineuure. For {our girll.

d I v e dream. For two null. and 0* .
lein . ‘

An inlnllil-le sign. For (our bnyl. ‘

A good lien for mouev. Fur pix little girll. .

An agreeable proluaaiuu. For several chariot...

GUES No. 29. ’

Simple Simon. Fol (our liitle born. .t‘.
'l'lm rrnl light. For four umlce. hvn (om-la.
Thu Iweatoet thought. For tour little gi I.
The mhmunn mflllklrl'. G imiiu. l zentleinun.
Three little l‘noln. For four err-mil bnu. '
Benarn o! the dogl Fur thrau indie: end.
h (in-luau."

Joe Hunt‘s hunt. For two boy: and two zirle.
Rugs. For six mnlen.

 

 

'3' The above book- ere Iold by New-denier: everywhere, or will be sent, pout-pelt h u, l

m, on receipt 0! price, lo cents ouch.

menu: ‘5 “Ali, Publith 08 Willie. 5%. X. Y.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LII"

V ,flvfiv.n\

 

at!“ Li

DIDI/E POCKET NOVEJLS.

PUBLISHED SEMI-MONTHLY, AT TEN CENTS EACH.

l llnnlu-vc Harry. M
lieu l Shot. f.
'l'im ll» ' \iiiiurs. 56
Blue lHL‘

Arknnniu Jack.
Bluvklwurd.

The Rimr Rifles.
i’lu1iti‘i' lliiiii.

101 Jab Darin.

his The \Voud King.
NH The Si-iilpud lluritel’.
llil Niu

15 The War-ii Ranger-
hi Thu Red FM.

161 lieiiuliful Unknown.
)6 (‘niiehinke More.

.’)1

.\:ii “Ville. 53
in “him Trnvker. .‘ill
‘ lililiiw‘n Wile. iiu
iiii 'i‘mppcr. iii

run-:44”;
a.)

i'mu )i spy.
. '5lliil-
'ii. iiiiiiimilwr.

H, :i..- Trapper.
hi i m.

i, llh'Rlillgel’.
'l'rnpimr.
ml i. llli' \lvy.
.. ill-i -1\ Mn...

in. mil. iiiug.‘
*l l in».

'» n It. R'IHL'L'I',
r is i in “.1...

w .~‘« uni.
iilllllv‘l".
simmer.

2:1.»

' “xiii-Lu...
‘ Riiiiliiiz Dick.

'. The YI‘ii'l‘V

(Tliiudwiiud.

The 'l'uxnei ll:

Mei'r'ilens l\
|

Thu Flivridu Scum.
The l ind Trupper.

Sharp-iii».
Ildillriillllii.

Hunter.
The. l’liiuiluiii ridcr.

7 llelnwnru’l‘uni.
, ..

,ll\‘t'r iiille.
’I I! Skeleton Scout.
Little lillln.

. The “'mid “'ilrli.

(ilil Riiii‘, Trn ipnr.
nrlct Slinuhlers.
[luriiul’ llilleiiinn.
()iiilziw .liirk.
’l‘irr re ll , Seminole.
l til‘i)t‘l|il‘l’.
Iiill. lhu Ranger.
ior llursonmn.

'l‘h.» ring ‘l’inppi‘rl.

Kulwillih.
The Hunter lierciilua.
Phil lliiiiler.

' The lllllllll Scout.
. The Girl dimmer.

Tire imi iimnn. ..
. :ir-Fm'i‘, the Sing-iii.
i‘iie Ann-,1"... my.

> l‘lie Phiiiil vin Hunk-r.

Tani l’iiille, Pilr 9..

' The Red Wizard.

l‘hi- Kind '1

i.» Squaw

perm.

‘ Dinky in ,r

Cnluiiu! (Trunlmlz.

’I‘igehiieiirt.
Mimked Avenger.
The Paul l’irnteu.
lilui‘li i’iiiillmr.
Aliiliol,tlie AVNIKEI'.
Chin. (he ('rvelmr.
'l'wu-limided .‘illl.
Mud ’l‘iiiil lluiitcr.
Blink Nick.

' Kit Iiird.
Ti“! Specter Ridcrs.
liiillll i’cte.
'l'lm Girl Ciiplniii.

’ Yuiilil-e Ipli.

lver .

Si uul Dick.
The Child Spy.
Mink (hint.
lied l‘liiiiie.

.X' Clyde, the Trnilrl’.

'l’hi- lmsi (‘in-he.

. 'I'hu Cannibal Chief.

Kiiriiiho.
~nvli-l Mnccnsin.

' Kidnapped.

Muid «if the Minin-
hiiii

’i'hr ‘l‘il‘tfi Sunnis.
llnrdi-r Relil‘k’lllle.
'l‘hu \lnie ('hiel.
iim'nl‘, the Human
Mi-nniiiiii Rule.
The lied Soiiliier.

.' 'l‘ho Loni- Chief.

' The Sili‘ur lliiule.
C 'ngn, (‘hm- iiiie.

‘ 'l'he 'l‘iiriizlcd Tridl.
The, Unseen iillllli.
The Lone Indian.
The Hmndwl Chief.

liiink, tlii- nide.
'l‘hu iili‘l’llcr Scout.

. “'ild hill.

.\|iiid of “'3 niiiliig.
The Three Cnpilveu.
’l'lio Loni. Hiiiiler.
linrder an.

The Lilled 'l‘vnil.
The Trailer Spy.

linrder BPISH‘. _
The Sims iii Liberty.
The Lost, Bride.

‘ Kreisen.
. 'lhe Tolliiflwfl Spy.

The Prairie Scourge.
Ri-d Lightning.
llrrn'e Henri.
Nigliivilnwl: Kll.
)lllhiflnfl Snm.
lliirriciuie. Bill.

' ' The Red Outlaw.

l‘JS lllnck

'l'lia Swmnp Smut.
Thi- Shiiwneu'r Fa“.
Muhiiwk Nat.

(lid Jiipe.

'l‘hi- l’riiirle Rifles.
(ild K) ln, Trailer.
llii: Fool. ihe Guidac
iiwl llrulliurhoud.
'l'hr- Miiii in Green.
<il1uu-E3e,(he Gmi
Shah

The I’rnirie Tmpper‘
.lnlin, iiir
RIMlii-AL’QHI.

. Keen-Knife.

mm

‘101

‘10?

Mud Shipper.
The Young Spy.
'Ilie liidiiin Avenger-

. J"

in.» Old in... rim.

1”! Reilluiv.

lU'.‘ \\'ild Rulie.
>lf'ziu-«n- nu; 'I‘hia iiiiiiim iiunim.

in... H m 104 .(‘nrrwl I‘Ingle.

'1 \lml . . ins Nick Davin.

106 The i...ii...i Spy.

Billi [’innlnus.
The \"zillei .Ncuut.
h

an:
‘20»!
i ‘Ilifi
91m
. 'lll7

LllS

Rivnl Llrliil‘nfllltl.
Tim Swnirip Rifles.
'i‘i e Bullmiii Sr, ull.
Diicotuh Senurizo.
The Twin Scouts.
Buckskin Bill.

 

 

'l'i u “.‘Illllil 'iv'rlllii. _
The l'uiriut Scouts.

Till“. FULLOVVING WILL BE ISSUED 1N THE ORDER AND ()N THE DATES INDICATED:

205) The Harder Avenger-ii.
210 Tim Buruirlv‘n Chili-1:0.
:l'ln: Shun rim.- Svaut.

By Edward “'illeit. Roiidy .lune 97H].
liv MN. Klilry :\ Derilsillr. i’u-iidy July 11th.
in .i. Si-mii-i- Haulers”... Rmhl} Jiili 25m.
I'lu- . lcut Mine 15v \\' Hmuiliim. Renili- Auuusixih.
'l‘iu- l’ruli'ie Que Br \ . . lininilinn. Renily August TM.
The IIunkwoodnrnl n. liv Asu Beull. [{U‘Hliv' Soyituiiiiser 5th.
The Prim-ner- of La \‘irrtrene. Ih' Mrs. Mary A. Denisuii. Ready September 19lh.
I'L‘lk'L: fulfill. lir lim‘ninn ll Belkiinp. M. l). ’ieiuli Oriuber 3d,
The d iii-ii of the “'uiluwiah. By Edwin E. Ewing. Renin October 17th.
The Pl‘llil‘le l’iruted. ll" (Gustave Ain rd. liviidy ()cwhcr 31st,
"iio Iliunnr Cuptul ll_\' Colonel i’rem sl Inzrnhiini. Randy November 14th.
'l he lit-1i Spy. My 1’. liniiiillnii Myers. Ready November Qfllh,
Dick Hurling. Hy (‘nptiiin Frederick Whittaker. Rundy December 12th.
The Hunturu; Hunters. By Cnpiniii Frederick \i‘hiiinker. Randy December ‘zfllh.
‘ Guilty or Not Guilty. By Mrs. Ann R. Porter. Ready Jnnunry 91h.
4 The (Dutiuw Hunger. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. Ready Jun'uury 93d.

r:

’v’.:-;'—;\.r

1.4aca;:—____.._

h:-lifitcifiliuliiwilfilfiulé

(

Fur sale hv all .Vm Rulers; or sent posiepnld: single numbers, len Ceuia; nix mnnilis (13 Non.
one yrar (.96 Nos.)$ l.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New Yo!” ‘