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te

THE RANGER;

THE FUGITIVES OF THE BORDER.

BY EDWARD §S. ELLIS,

AvtTHOR oF “ooNOMOO,” “SETH JONES.” “IRONA,” ETC.

 

 

DONO :
BEADLE AND COMPANY,
44, PATERNOSTER ROW.

 
 

6 KENT, THE RANGER.

they had nothing to fear from the savages who surrounded
them. Thus matters stood when George and Rosalind were
left orphans, some years before the opening of our story.

It was a pleasant day in early summer that George and his
sister were seated in front of their house. The sun was just
setting, and they had remained thus a long time. Zeb, the
negro, was absent for the time, and they were thus undis-
turbed.

“Do you really think,” pursued the sister, “it can be true
that the Indians have perpetrated the outrages which have
been reported 2?”

“T should be glad to think differently, could I have reason
for doing so; but these reports certainly have foundation; and
what is more alarming, the suspicion that we are not safe,
which was awakened some time ago, is now confirmed. For
two or three days I have detected suspicious appearances, and
Zeb informed me that he discovered a couple of savages lurk-
ing around the edge of the forest. I fear there is strong
reason to apprehend danger.”

“But, brother, will not the kindness which our parents
showed them while living be a guaranty of our protection ?”

“Tt may, to some extent; but you must remember that there
are hundreds of Indians who have never seen or heard of
them, who would not hesitate to kill or take us prisoners at
the first opportunity.”

“Can it be possible ?”

“Tt is not only possible but true. You remember Roland
Leslie, who was here last summer? Yesterday I saw him up
the river, and he gave me the information that I have repeated.
At first I deferred mentioning it to you, for the reason that I
did not wish to alarm you until it could not be avoided,”

“Why did he not come here ?” asked the sister.

“He said that he should shortly visit us. He had heard
rumors of another massacre some miles up the river, and
wished to satisfy himself in regard to it before calling here.
Leslie, although young, is an experienced hunter and back-
woodsman, and I have not much fear for his personal safety.
He assured me that, should he find the Indians above ravag-
ing the country as fearfully as reported, he would immeciately
return to us.”
    

 

GEORGE AND ROSALIND.

“T hope so,” earnestly replied Rosalind.

“ Still,” continued George, “what can we do, even then?
He intends to bring a hunter back with him, and that
will make only three of us against perhaps a thousand say-
ages.”

“ But have we not the house to protect us?”

“And have they not the forest? Can they not lurk around
until we die of hunger, or until they fire the building ? There
are a hundred contingencies that will bar an escape, while I
confess no prospect of gettine safely away presents itself.”

“We have arms and ammunition,” said Rosalind. “Of
course Leslie and his friend are good marksmen, and why can
we not do enough to deter and intimidate the savages? Find-
ing us well prepared, they will doubtless retreat and not dis-
turb us dgain. I hope the trouble will soon be over.”

“T hope so too; but it is hoping against hope. This war
will be a long and bloody one, and when it is over the country
will present a different appearance. Many lives must be lost
ere it is done, and perhaps ours are among that number.”

“Perhaps so, brother; but do not be so depressed. Let us
hope and pray for the best. It is not such asad thing to die,
and the country which has given us birth has certainly a
strong claim upon us.”

“Noble girl,” exclaimed George, “it is so, and we have no
cause for murmuring.”

At this moment Zeb appeared. He was a short, dumpy,
thick-set negro, with a most luxuriant head of wool, a portion
of which hung around his head in small, close braids, resem-
bling bits of decayed rope. His eyes were large and protrud-
ing, and his face glistened like a mirror. He was a genuine
African. Some of their qualities in him were carried to the
extreme. Instead of being a coward, as is often the case with
his nation, he seemed never to know when there really was
danger. He always was reckless and careless, and seemed to
escape by accident.

“Heigh! massa George, what’s up?” he exclaimed, observ-
ing the solemn appearance of the two before him.

“ Nothing but what is known to you, Zeb. We were just
speaking of the danger which you are aware is threatening us.
Have you seen any thing lately to excite suspicion ?”

  
 

§ KENT, THE RANGER.

“ Nothin’ worth speakin’ of,” replied he, seating himself ia
front of George and Rosalind.

“ What was it, Zeb?” asked the latter.

“When I’s out tendin’ to things, I tought as how Id sit
down and rest, and ’cordin’ly I squats on a big stone. Purty
soon de stone begin to move, and come to look, ’twas a big
Injin.

“<VFeigh ! says I, ‘what you doin’ here ?’

“<Ueh! he grunted.

“« Yes, [ll ‘ugh! you,’ says I, ‘if I cotches you here ag’in.”
With dat I pitches him two, free rods off, and, tells him to
make tracks fur home.”

“Heavens! if you would only tell the truth, Zeb. Did you
really see an Indian, though ?”

“Deed I did, and he run when he see’d me in arnist.”

“ And you saw others yesterday, did you ?” remarked Rosa-
lind.

“Two or free, down toward de woods. I spied ’em crawl-
in’ and smellin’ down dar, and axes dem dar business. Dey
said as how dey’s lookin’ for a jack-knife dat dey lost dar last
summer. I told’em dat dey oughter be ’shamed demselyes
to be smellin’ round dat way; and to provide against dar do-
in’s in future, I give dem each a good kick and sent dem
away.”

“Do not exaggerate your story so much,” said Rosalind.
“Give the truth and nothing else.”

“ Qua’r, folks won’t believe all dis pusson observes,” said he,
with an offended air.

“Tell the truth and they will in all cases; but should you
deceive once, you will always be suspected afterward.”

“ Dat’s it,’ commenced the negro, spreading out his broad
hand like an orator to illustrate the point. “If I tells de truf
dey’re sure to tink I’s lyin’, and what’s de use ?”

“Zeb,” commenced George, not regarding the last remark,
“vou, as well as we, are aware that we are encompassed by
peril. You have seen that the Indians are constantly prowl-
ing around, and evidently for no good purpose. What would
you advise us to do under the circumstances ?”

_ “@Qive ’em all a good floggin’ and set ’em to work,” he
replied.

a
wa

DANGER THREATENING. “9

“Come, come, Zeb, we want no jesting,” interrupted Rosa-
lind.

“Dar ’tis agin. Who war jestin’? Dat’s what I tink is
de best. Give ’em a good lickin’, and set ’em to work clear-
in’ off de wood till dar spunk is gone.”

“Fudge !” said George, impatiently, turning his back to-
ward Zeb, whose head ducked down with a chuckle.

“ Rosalind,” said George, “ the best plan is certainly to wait
until Leslie returns, which will be either to-morrow or the
next day. We will then determine upon what course to pur-
sue. Perhaps we shall be undisturbed until that time. If
not, it can not: be helped.”

“Wished dis pusson warn’t so hungry,” remarked Zeb,
picking up a stick and whittling it.

Rosalind smiled as she arose and remarked :

“Tt is getting late, George, and it perhaps is best to have
supper.”

He made no answer and turned toward the negro.

“Zeb,” said he, “in all probability we shall be obliged to
leave this place ina few days for a safer location. Of course
you will accompany us, and I wish it to be understood that
you are to lay aside this levity and carelessness. Remember
that you are in danger, as much as ourselyes. Your scalp
may be the first taken.”

“What, dis yere wool of mine? Yah! yah! yah! Lord
bless you, dey’d have a handful !”

“How would you relish being roasted at the stake ?” asked
George, hoping to terrify him.

“Yah! yah! Dey’d be some sizzlin’, I guess.”

“You will think soberly about the matter, perhaps sooner
than you suspect.”

“Yas,” said Zeb, and his face straightened out in an instant,
while he slowly and thoughtfully continued whittling.

“ Zeb,” continued George, leaning toward him and speak-
ing in an undertone, “I think we shall be attacked in two
days at the latest.” .

“Jest keep de whip in good order, and I’ll put it into ’em
and teach ’em manners.”

“T fear you will learn wisdom only by experience, even if
you do then,” returned George. “It would be a good thing

»

 
 

  

10 KENT, THE RANGER.
for you, should you meet with something that would impress
you with a sense of your peril. I can only wonder at your
stupidity.”

“ Gorra mighty! do you s’pose dere’s anything that’d make
me afeard of dem Injins? Why, bless you, forty of ’em
wouldn’t dare to frow a stone at me. I’ve licked free, four
dozen of ’em, and dey all respect me awful.”

“T suppose so,” rejoined young Leland, with mock serious-
ness.

“ Last summer,” pursued Zeb, “when you’s down de river
fishin’, dere’s thirteen of em come up one day to borrer de
wood-box. I s’pose dey wanted to keep dar dogs and pap-
pooses in it, and I ’cluded as how dey warn’t gwine to get it.
So I told ’em I’s very sorry dat I couldn’t ’commodate ’em,
but de fact war we wanted to put de wood in it ourselves.
When I said dat, one of de niggers begin to got sassy. I just
informed ’em dat dey’d better make demselves scarce mighty
quick, if dey didn’t want dis pusson in dar wool. Dey didn’t
mind what was said, howsumever, and purty soon I cotched
?em runnin’ off wid de wood-box. Dat raised my dander,
and I grabbed de box and frowed it right over dar Leads and
cotched ’em fast. Den I put a big stone on it, and kept ’em
dere free weeks, and afore I let’em out I made ’em promise to
behave ’emselves. Now I considers dat we'd better serve
em some sich trick. Tie two, free hundred to de fence, and
leaye’em dere for a few months.”

“You are welcome to try it,” returned George, rather dis-
gusted at the negro’s propensity for big story telling. He
arose and passed within, where the ample table was laid. Yet
he could not eat the plain, sweet food which Rosalind’s own
hands had prepared. The dreadful sense of danger was too
real a guest for any rest or peace of mind,

   

  
THE HOOT OF AN OWL. il

CHATTER “TT.
THE NIGHT OF TERROR.

Few words were interchanged during the evening. George
and Rosalind had enough to occupy their minds, and Zeb, find-
ing them taciturn, relapsed into a sullen silence.

At an early hour each retired. Rosalind now felt more
than George that unaccountable presentiment which some-
times comes over one in cases of danger. During the last few
hours it had increased until it nearly resvlved itself into a
certainty.

The view from the front of the house was clear and unob-
structed to the river, a quarter of a mile distant. Along this
lay the cultivated clearing, while the forest, stretching miles
away, approached to within a few yards of the rear of the
house.

Rosalind’s room overlooked this wilderness. Instead of
retiring, she seated herself by the window to gaze out upon it.
There was a faint moon, and the tree-tups for a considerable
distance could be seen swaying in the gentle night-wind.
The silence was so profound that it seemed to make itself felt,
and, in that yast solitude few indeed could remain without
being impressed with the solemn grandeur of nature around.

Hour after hour wore away ; still Rosalind remained at the
window. As there was no inclination to sleep, she determ-
ined to remain in her position until morning. She knew that
it must be far beyond midnight, and at the thought there
sprung up a faint hope within her breast. But she was
startled by the dismal hoot of an owl. She sprung up, with
a beating heart, listening intently and painfully ; but no other
sound was heard. Trying to smile at her trepidation, she
again seated herself and listened; in a moment that cry was
repeated, now in an opposite direction from which the first
note was heard.

Rosalind wondered that the simple circumstance should so .
affect her; but try as much as she might, she could not shake
it off Again, for a few minutes, she remained trembling with

 
 

12 KENT, THE RANGER.

an undefinable fear, when there came another hoot, followed
instantly by another, in an opposite direction. She began
now to entertain a fearful suspicion. :

Her first impulse was to awaken her brother, but, after a
moment’s thought, she concluded to wait a short time. A
few more sounds were heard, when they entirely ceased.
During this time, Rosalind, although suffering an intense fear,
had been gazing vacantly toward the point or clearing nearest
the house. As her eyes rested upon the spot, she caught the
shadowy outlines of a dark body moving stealthily and noise-
lessly. along upon the ground.

Without waiting a moment, she darted to George’s room.
He had not slept, and in an instant was by her side.

“ Qall Zeb,” she exclaimed. “We are surrounded by In-
dians.” ;

Leland disappeared, and in a moment came back with the
negro.

“ Gorra mighty !” said the latter, in a hurried, husky whis-
per, “where am de cussed niggers? Heigh, Miss Rosa ?”

“Keep quiet,” she replied, “or you will be heard.”

“Dat’s just what I wants to be, and I calkilates I'll be felt
too, if dar are any of ’em ’bout.”

“Stay here a moment,” said George, “while I look out.
Rosalind, what did you see?”

“A body approaching the house from the woods. Be care-
ful and do not expose yourself, George.”

He made no answer and entered her room, followed by her-
self and the negro, who remained at a safe distance, while he
cautiously approached the window. He had no more than
reached it, when Zeb asked :

“ See noffin’ ?”

This question was repeated perhaps a dozen times without
an answer, when the patience of Zeb becoming exhausted, he
shuffled to the window and pressed his head forward, ex-
claiming :

“ Gorra mighty, whar am dey ?”

“Hist! there is one now—yes, two of them !”

““ Whar—whar ?”

“Keep your mouth shut,” interrupted the young man,
his vexation causing him to speak louder than he intended.
THE ATTACK ON THE COTTAGE. 18

“Heigh! dat’s him! Look out!”

And before young Leland suspected his intentions or could
prevent it, Zeb had taken aim and fired. This was so sudden
and unexpected that, for a moment, nothing was heard but
the dull echo, rolling off over the forest and up the river.
Then arose a piercing, agonized yell, that told how effectual
was the shot of the negro. Rosalind’s face blanched with
' terror as she heard the fearful chorus of enraged voices, and
thought of the fearful scene that must follow.

“ Are the doors secured ?” she asked, laying her hand upon
George’s shoulder.

“Yes, I barricaded them all,” he answered. “If they do
not fire the building, we may- be able to keep them off until
morning. I don’t know but what Zeb’s shot was the best,
after all—G@od save us !”

This last exclamation was caused by a bullet whizzing past,
within an inch of his face. For a while Leland was uncertain
of the proper course to pursue. Should he expose his person
at the window, he was almost certain to be struck; yet this
or some other one equally exposed, was the only place where
le could exchange shots, and the savages must be kept in
check.

Zeb had reloaded his gun, and peering around the edge of
the window, caught a glimpse of an Indian. As reckless of
danger as usual, he raised his rifle and discharged it. He
was a good marksman, and the shot was as effective as the
other.

“Gorra mighty!’ he exclaimed, “I can dodge dar lead.
Didn’t I pick dat darkey off awful nice? Just wait till I load
agin.” Chuckling over his achievements, he proceeded to
prime his rifle. George Leland withdrew to the window of
another room, from which he succeeded in slaying a savage,
and by being careful and cautious, he was able to make his
few shots tell with effect.

When Zeb shot the first savage, the red-skins sprung to
their feet and commenced yelling and leaping, feeling that
those within were already at their mercy; but the succeeding
shots convinced them of their mistake, and retreating to cover,
they were more careful in exposing themselves. Several stole
around to the front of the house, but George had anticipated

 
 

14 KENT, THE RANGER.

them, and there being no means of concealing their appear-
ance, they were easily kept at a distance. Rosalind followed
and assisted him as far as lay in her power, while Zeb was
left alone in his delight and glory.

“Be careful,” said Leland; “don’t come too near. Just
have the powder and wadding ready and hand it to me when
I need it.”

“TJ will,” she replied, in a calm, unexcited voice, as she
reached him his rod.

“ Just see what Zeb is at, while I watch my chance.”

She disappeared, and in a moment returned.

“He seems frantic with delight, and is yet unharmed.”

“God preserve him,” said George, “for his assistance is
needed.”

“Be careful,” said Rosalind, as George approached the
window.

“JT shall—whew! that’s a close rub!” he muttered, as a
bullet pierced his cap. “There, you're past harm,” he added,
as he discharged his gun.

Thus the contest was kept up for over an hour. But few
shots were interchanged on either side, each party becoming
more careful in their action. Young Leland remained at his
window, and kept'a close watch upon his field; but no
human being was seen. Zeb laughed, ducked his head, and
made numerous threats toward his enemies, but scemed to
attract no notice from them.

Now and then Rosalind spoke a word to her brother, but
the suspense which the silence of their enemies had put them
in, sealed their lips, and, for a long while, the silence was un-
broken by either. They were startled at length by the report
of Zeb’s rifle, and the next minute he appeared among them,
exclaiming :

“Gorra mighty! I shot out my ramrod. I seen a good
chance, and blazed away ’fore I thought to take it out. It
went through six of em, and stuck into a tree and hung ’em
fast. Heigh! it’s fun to see ’em.”

“Here, take mine, and for God’s sake, cease your jesting !”
said Leland, handing his rod to him.

“Wish I could string some more up,” added Zeb, as he
rammed home his charge. ‘“ Yer oughter seen it, Miss Rosa.
ROSALIND A CAPTIVE. 15

It went right frough de fust feller’s eye, and den frough de
oder one’s foot, den frough de oder’s gizzard, and half way
frough de tree. Gorra, how dey wriggled! Looked just like
a lot of mackerel hung up to dry. Heigh!”

At this point Leland discharged his gun, and said, without
changing his position :

“They are trying to approach the house. Go, Zeb, and
attend to your side. Be very sharp !”

“ Yes, I’s dar, stringing ’em up,” he rejoined, as he turned
away.

“ Hark !” exclaimed Rosalind, when he had gone. “ What
noise is that ?”

Leland listened awhile, and his heart died within him as he
answered :

“Merciful Heaven! the house is on fire! All hope is now
gone !”

“ Shall we give ourselves up ?” hurriedly asked Rosalind.

“No; come with me.”

“Hurry wp, massa, dey’s gwine to roast us. De grease
begins to siss in my face a’ready,” said Zeb, as he joined
them.

The fugitives retreated to the lower story, and Leland led
the way to a door which opened upon the kitchen, at the end
of the house. His hope was that from this they might have
a chance of escaping to the wood, but a short distance off, ere
they were discovered.

Cautiously opening the door, he saw with anxious, hopeful
joy, that no Indians were visible.

“Now, Rosalind,” he whispered, “be quick. Make for the
nearest trees, and if you succeed in reaching them, pass to the
river-bank and wait for me. Move softly and rapidly.”

Rosalind stepped quickly out. The yells of the infuriated
savages deafened her; but, although fearfully near, she saw
none, and started rapidly forward. Leland watched each step
with an agony of fear and anxiety which can not be described.
The trees were within twenty yards, and half the distance was
passed, when Leland knew that her flight was discovered. A
number of savages darted forward, but a shot from him stopped
the course of the foremost. Taking advantage of the confu-
sion which this had occasioned, Rosalind sprung away and

 
   

   

16 KENT, THE RANGER.

succeeded in reaching the cover; but here, upon the very
threshold of escape, she was reached and captured.

“Gorra mighty !’ shouted Zeb, as he saw her seized and
borne away. “Ef I don’t cowhide ebery nigger of ’em for dat
trick.”

And clenching his hands he stalked boldly forward and de-
manded :

“Whar’s dat lady? Ef you doesn’t want to git into trouble,
I calkilate you'd better bring her back in double-quick time.”

Several savages sprung toward him, and Zeb prepared him-
self for the struggle. His huge fist felled the first and the
second; but ere he could do further damage he found himself
thrown down and bound.

“ Well, dar, if dat ain’t de meanest trick yet, servim’ a decent
prisoner dis way. I'll cowhide ebery one ob you. Oh, dear,
I wish I had de whip!” he muttered, writhing and rolling in
helpless rage upon the ground.

Leland had seen this occurrence and taken advantage of it.
Tt had served to divert the action of the savages, and the at-
tention of all being occupied with their two prisoners, he
managed with considerable difficulty to reach the wood with-
out being discovered.

Here, at a safe distance, he watched the progress of things.
The building was now one mass of flame, which lit up the sky
with a lurid, unearthly glare. The border of the forest was
visible and the trunks and limbs of the trees appeared as if
scorched and reddened by the consuming heat. The savages
resembled demons dancing and yelling around the ruin which
they had caused. It was with difficulty that Leland restrained
himself from firing upon them. With a sad heart he saw the

house which had sheltered him from infancy fall inward with

a crash. The splinters and ashes of fire were hurled in the
air and fell at his feet, and the thick volume of smoke reached
him.

Yet he thought more of the captives which were ia the
hands of their merciless enemies. Their safety demsznded his
attention. Thoughtfully and despondingly he turned upon
his heel and disappeared in the shadows of the great forest.

ater tS
Ww

—
  

“>

 

THE TWO HUNTERS.

CHAPTER. ..LIT.
KENT AND LESLIE.

WuEN Roland Leslie reached his destination some miles up
the Ohio, his fears and suspicions were confirmed. There had
been a massacre, a week previous, of a number of settlers, and
the Indians were scouring the country for more victims.

This information was given by Kent Whiteman, the person
for whom he was searching. This personage was a strange
character, some forty years of age, who led a wandering hun-
ter’s life, and was known by every white man for a great dis-
tance along the Ohio. Roland Leslie had made his acquaint-
ance when but a mere lad, and they often spent weeks to-
gether hunting and roaming through the great wilderness,
which was the home of both. He cherished an implacable
hatred to every red-man, and they in turn often sought his
life, for they had no enemy so dangerous as he.

“ Yes sir, them varmints,” said he, as he leaned upon his
long rifle and gazed at Leslie, “are playing particular devil
in these parts, and I calkelate it’s a game that two can play at.”

“ Jump in the boat, Kent,” said Leslie, “and ride down
with me; I promised George Leland that if he needed asgsist-
ance I would bring it to him.”

“He needs it, that’s a p’inted fact, and as soon as it can
conveniently reach him too.” °

“Well, let us be off.’ Leslie dipped his oars in the water
and pulled out into the stream. It was the morning after the
burning of the Lelands’ home, which of course was unknown
to them. . For a few moments the boat glided rapidly down
the stream, when Whiteman spoke :

“Where'd you put up last night, Leslie ?”

“ About ten miles down the river. I ran in under the bank
and had an undisturbed night’s rest.”

“Didn't hear nothin’ of the red-skins ?”

“ No.” ‘
“ Wal, it’s a wonder ; they’re as thick as flies in August,
and I calkelate Pll have rich times with ’em.” 1*

 

  
 

 

1s KENT, THE RANGER.

“J can not understand how it is, Kent, that you cherish
such a deadly hatred for these Indians.”

“J have good reason,” returned the hunter, compressing his
lips.

‘How long is it that you have felt thus ?”

“yer since I’s a boy. Ever since that time.”

“What time, Kent ?”

“T have never told you, I believe, why the sight of a red-
skin throws me into such a fit, have I?”

“No; I should certainly be glad to hear.”

“Wal, it doesn’t take long to tell. Yet how few persons
know it except myself. It is nigh thirty years ago,” com-
menced Kent, “that I lived about a dozen miles above the
place that we left this morning. There I was born and lived
with my old father and mother until I was ten or eleven years
old. :

“One dark, stormy night we war attacked by them red
devils, and that father and mother were butchered before my
eyes. During the confusion of the attack, I escaped to the
wocds and secreted myself until it was over. It was a hard
matter to lie there, scorched by the flames of your own home,
and see your parents, while begging for mercy, tomahawked
and slain before your eyes. But in such a position I was
placed, and remained until the savages, satisfied with their
bloody work, took their departure.

“When the rain, which fell in torrents, had extinguished
the smoking ruins, I crawled from my hiding-place. I felt
around until I come upon the cold bodies of my father and
mother lyin’ side by side, and then kneelin’ over them, I took
a fearful oath—an oath to which I have devoted my life. TI
swore that as long as life was given me, it should be used
for revengin’ the slaughter of my parents. That night these
savages contracted a debt of which they little dreamed. Be-
fore they left the place, I had marked each of the dozen, and
I never forgot them. For ten years I follered and tracked
them, and at the end of that time I had sent the last one to
his final account. Yet that did not satisfy me. I swore eter-
nal enmity against the whole people, and as I said, it shall be
carried out. While Kent is alive, he is the mortal enemy of
every red-skin.”

—

a

 
+

 

{

AN ADVENTURE ON THE RIVER. 19

The hunter looked up in the face of Leslie, and his gleam-
ing eyes and gnashing teeth told his earnestness. His man-
ner and recital had impressed the latter, and he foppore
speaking to him for some time.

“T should think,” observed Leslie, after a short silence,
“that you had nearly paid that debt, Kent.”

“Tt is a debt which will be balanced,” rejoined the hunter,
“when I am uneble to make any more payments.”

“Well, I shouldn’t want you for an enemy,” added Leslie,
glancing over his shoulder at the stream in front of him.

Both banks of the river at this point, and, in fact, for many
miles, were lined with overhanging trees and bushes, which
might afford shelter to any enemy. Kent sat in the stern and
glanced suspiciously at each bank, as the boat was impelled
swiftly yet silently forward, and there was not even a falling
leaf that escaped his keen eye.

_ “Strikes me,” said Leslie, leaning on his oars, “that we
are in rather a dangerous vicinity. Those thick bushes along
the shore, over there, might easily contain a few red gentle-
men.”

“Don’t be alarmed,” returned the hunter, “I'll keep a
good watch. They've got to make some movement before
they can harm us, and I'll be sure to see them. The river’s
wide, too, and there ain’t so much to fear, after all.”

Leslie again dipped his oars, and the boat shot forward in
silence. Nothing but the suppressed dip of the slender ashen
blades, or the dull sighing of the wind through the tree-tops,
broke the silence of the great solitude. Suddenly, as Leslie
bent forward and gazed into the hunter’s face, he saw him
start and gaze anxiously at the right shore, some distance
ahead.

“What's the matter ?” asked Leslie.

“ Just wait a minute,” returned the hunter, rising and gaz-
ing in the same direction. “Stop the boat. Back water!”
he added, in a hurried tone. 3

Leslie did as he was bidden, and again spoke:

“What is it, Kent ?”

“Do you see them bushes hangin’ a little farther out in the
stream than the others ?”

“Yes; what of them ?”

 
 

20 KENT, THE RANGER.

“Watch them a minute. TThere—look quick!” said
Kent.

“T can see a fluttering among the branches, as if a bird
had flown from it,” answered Leslie.

“Wal, them birds is Indians, that’s all,” remarked the
hunter, dropping composedly back into the boat. “Go
ahead !”

“They will fire into us, no doubt. Had I not better run
in to the other shore ?”

“No; there may be a host of ’em there. Keep in the
middle of the stream, and we'll give ’em the slip yet.”

It must be confessed that Leslie experienced rather strange
sensations as he neared the locality which had excited their
suspicion, especially when he knew that he was exposed to
any shot that they might feel inclined to give, A shudder
ran through his frame, when, directly opposite the spot, he
distinctly heard a groan of agony.

Kent made a motion furhim to cease rowing. Bending
their heads down and listening, they again heard that now
loud, agonizing expression of mortal pain.

As soon as Leslie was certain that the sound proceeded
from some being in distress, he headed the boat toward the
shore.

“Stop!” commanded Kent; “you should have more
sense than that.”

“But will you not assist a person in distress?” asked he,
gazing reproachfully into his face.

““Who’s in distress ?”

“Oh, Gorra mighty! I’s been dyin,” now came from the
shore.

“allo there! what’s wantin’ ?” called Whiteman.

“Help, help, ‘fore dis Indian gentleman—’fore I dies from
de wounds dat dey’s given me.”

“Tve heard that voice before,” remarked Kent to Leslie, in
an undertone,

“So have I,” replied the latter. “Why, it is George
Leland’s negro; fe wouldn’t decoy us into danger. Let us
go in.”

“Wait until I speak further with him.” (Then, to the
person upon shore): “ What might be your name ?”

 

>
  

$

 

 

ZEB IN TROUBLE.

“Zeb Langdon. Isn’t dat old Kent?”

“Yes; how came you in this scrape, Zeb ?” ;

“Gorra mighty! I didn’t come into it. _Dem red dogs
—dese here nice fellers—brought me here ’bout two months
ago, and den dey all fired at me fur two or free days, and
den dey hung me up.and left me to. starve to death. Boo-
hoo-oo !”

“But,” said Leslie, “you were at home yesterday when I
came up the river.”

“Yes; dey burned down de house last night, and cooked
us all and eat us up. I’s come to live ag’in, and crawled
down here to get you fellers to take me home; but, Lord
bless you, don’t come ashore—blast you, quit a hittin’ me
over de head,” added the negro, evidently to some one near
him.

Leslie and. Whiteman exchanged significant glances, and
silently worked the boat further from the land.

“Who is that you spoke to?” asked the former, when they
were at a safe distance.

“Dis yere blasted limb reached down and pulled my wool,”
replied the negro, with perfect nonchalanee.

“ Where is George Leland ?” asked Leslie.

“Dunno; slipped away from dese yere nice fellers what’s
pulled all de wool out of me head, and is tellin’ me a lot o’
yarns to tell you. Gorra mighty! can’t you let a feller lone,
when he’s yarnin’ as good as he can ?”

“Where is Miss Leland ?”

“How does I know? <A lot of ’em run off wid her last
night.”

“Oh God! what I expected,” said Leslie, dropping his
voice, and gazing with an agonizing look at Whiteman. The
latter, regardless of his emotion, continued his conversation
with Zeb.

“ Are you hurt any ?”

“ Considerable.” ;

“Now, Zeb, tell the truth. Did they capture George
Leland ?”

“Bless you, no. He got away during de trouble.”
“ Did they get Miss Leland ?”
“Deed they did.”

 

  
   

22 KENT, THE RANGER,

“Ts she with you?”

“No. It took forty of ’em to watch me and de rest.”

Here the negro’s words were cut short with a jerk, and he
gave vent to a loud groan.

“ Gorra mighty!” he ejaculated, in fury. ‘Come ashore,
Mr. Whiteman and Mr. Leslie. Come quick, and let dese
yer fellers got you. Dey wants yer too.”

“ Are there any of the imps with you?” asked Kent, more
for amusement than any thing else.

“What shall I tell him?” the negro asked, in a ‘husky

whisper, loud enough to be plainly heard by the two in the °

boat.

“Dey say dar‘ ain’t any of ’em. Talk yourself, if dat
doesn’t suit you,” he added, in great wrath.

“Three cheers for you,” shouted Whiteman. “ Are there
any of ’em upon the other side ?”

“Dese fellers say dey am all dar. Gorra, don’t kill
me:

“Good; you're the best nigger ‘long the ’Hio. I guess
we'll go over to the other side and visit them.”

So saying, Kent seized the oars and pulled for the oppo-
site shore. He had not taken more than a couple of
strokes when a dozen rifies cracked simultaneously from the
bushes, and as many bullets struck the boat and glanced over
the water. ;

“Drop down,” he whispered to Leslie. Instead of doing
the same himself, he bent the more vigorously to his oars. A
few minutes sufficed to carry them so far down that little
danger was to be apprehended from the Indians, who uttered
their loudest shouts and discharged their rifles, as they passed
beyond their reach.

“That's too goad a chance to be lost,” muttered the ranger,
bringing his long rifle to his shoulder. Leslie followed th
direction of his aim, and saw a daring savage standing boldly
out to view, and making furious gesticulations toward them.
The next instant Kent’s rifle uttered it’s sharp report, and the
Indian, with a yell, sprung several feet in the air, and fell to
the ground.

“That was a good shot,” remarked Leslie, gazing at the
fallen body. :

   

$
 

A RACE AND AN ACCIDENT. 23

“Yes, and it’s done just what I wanted it to,” replied Kent,
heading the boat toward shore.

“They are going to pursue us, are they not?” asked Leslie.

“Yes, and we'll have fun,” added the ranger, as the boat
touched the shore, and he sprung out.

“Come along, and make up yer mind for a long run,” said
he, glancing furtively toward the savages.

Leslie sprung after him, and they darted away into the
forest.

When Whiteman had fired his fatal shot the Indians were
so infuriated, that, setting up their demoniac yells, they
plunged down the banks of the stream, determined to revenge *
their fallen companion.

This was what Kent desired: He exulted as he saw that
he was being gratified. “If there isn’t fun pretty shortly it
won’t be my fault,” said he, as he plunged onward into the
forest.

In a short time the pursuers gained the opposite shore, and
followed with renewed ardor into the wilderness. Kent and
Leslie, however, had gained a good start. Both being rapid
runners, they had not much to fear. Had nothing unusual oc-
curred, they would easily have distanced their pursuers.
But Leslie, following Kent in a leap across a rocky gorge,
struck in his comrade’s footsteps in the earth upon its edge.
The earth had become loosened and started by the shock, and
ere Leslie could recover his footing, he fell some fifteen or
twenty feet to the bottom. The fall bruised him so much
that he was unable to rise, or in fact hardly to stir.

“ Hurt 2?” asked the ranger, gazing over at him.

“Yes,” groaned Leslie. “I can’t get up. Don’t wait for
me, for it’s no use. Go on and save yourself.”

“T hate to leave you, but it’s got to be done. Lay down
there; crawl in under that rock. Perhaps they won’t see you.
Quick, for I hear ’em comin’.”

With these words the hunter turned and disappeared, and
succeeded in getting beyond the gorge without being seen by
his pursuers; but this delay had given them time to gain a
great deal upon him, and when he started their hurried tramp
could be distinctly heard.

His words had roused Leslie to a sense of his peril. By

 
 

24 KENT, THE RANGER.

struggling and laboring for a few minutes he succeeded in
disengaging himself and managed to crawl beneath a project-
ing ridge of rock. This effectually concealed him from sight ;
and had his pursuers no suspicion of his fall, he yet stood a
chance of escaping.

In a few moments he heard them overhead, and the pain
of his wounds was forgotten in the anxiety which he now felt
for his safety. He knew that they had hesitated, but whether
it was on account of the leap which they were required to
make, or on account of any suspicion that they might enter-
tain, he could not divine.

The place in which he had fallen had probably once been
swept by a torrent, but now a tiny stream only warbled
through it. The murmur of this, by Leslie’s side, prevented
his understanding the words of those above. The hum of
their voices could be heard but not their words.

Presently, however, he distinguished a well-known voice,
evidently in expostulation with some one.

“Gorra mighty! does yer s’pects I can jump dat? It’s
bad ’nough to make me git drownded in dat river without
broken my neck down dar !”

Leslie could not help wondering why Zeb was brought
along, nor how, he managed to keep pace with the rest. But
as he had not heard his voice before, he concluded that the
negro must have been brought by several Indians who re-
mained behind for that purpose. This conclusion was con-
firmed by the words which he heard the next minute.

“Whar’s de use ob jumpin’? Dem yere fellers’ll soon be
back, coz dey ain’t agwine to cotch dat man nohow. He can
run like a streak o’ sunshine, and likes as not dey’ll all get
shot. You'd better go on and coax ’em to come back while
I stay here and waits fur ye.”

In answer to this, Leslie heard some angry muttering and
mumbling, but could distinguish no words. In a moment,
however, Zeb’s voice was audible.

“Bless yer, you’re de all-firedest fools I eber see’'d. How
does you s’pects I’s gwine to light on toder side. Ef one of
you'll take me on your back, I won’t mind lettin’ you try to
carry me over; but I tells you I ain’t agwine to try it. So
you can shut up yer rat-traps.”

lg al ett ete

Ae Tota oe
  

a

 

 

 

THE SAVAGES ON THE MARCH. 25

Hardly a second elapsed. before he again spoke :

“ Hold on dar; you kickin’ all my brains out! [ll try it!”

The next moment Leslie heard a, dull thump, and Zeb came
rolling down directly beside him.

“Tg killed! Ebery bone is broken. I can’t live anoder
second.”

“Zeb! Zeb!’ whispered Leslie, in a hurried whisper.

The negro suddenly ceased his groaning and exclamations,
and rolling his head over toward him, asked, in a whisper :

“ Who's dat ?”

“Tt’s I, Zeb. Get up quick, for God’s sake, before they
come down, or I’m lost!”

The negro clambered to his feet without difficulty, and dis-
appeared, shouting to those above :

“T isn’t hurt. It war de rock dat was broke by my head
striking it! How de pieces flewed !”

CHAPTER IV.
THE CAPTIVES.

WueEn Rosalind Leland felt herself seized by the savage, she
fainted in the arms of her swarthy captor, and so remained
for a long space of time. When she recoyered, she found
that she was a secure prisoner in the hands of her enemies,
She was grieved to see that Zeb was a companion in captiy-
ity. She felt that, could she alone suffer, she would willingly
bear it. Although acquainted with many Indians, she was
unable to recognize any of those around. This, of course,
was a gratification. It showed that the kindness of her par-
ents and herself had not been lost upon them. Although the
recipients of her kindness might not strive to prevent violence
being done her, yet they refused to participate in it themselves.

The whole Indian force numbered about thirty. As soon
as they: had done all in their power, and were convinced that
there were no more captives to be secured, they took up the
line of march. In the course of their journey, Rosalind found

 

  
 

 

26 KENT, THE RANGER.

that she was near enough to hold a conversation with Zeb, and
after a few minutes’ silence, she ventured ;

“How do you feel, Zeb?”

“Bless you, missus, if dese niggers doesn’t get the all-fired-
est walloping when I gets de chance, dey may feel glad.”

“Yes, but I am afraid that you will not get the chance very
soon.”

“Oh, dey daresn’t kill me; fur if dey did, ?d hang ebery
one ob dem.”

Despite Rosalind’s painful situation, she could not but smile
at the earnestness of tone in which Zeb delivered himself of
this. She resumed:

“ Are you bound, Zeb 2”

“Not much; only a dozen ropes tied around one leg, and
as many round de rest ob me body.”

“Oh, Zeb, don’t tell such stories,”

“Fact, missus Leland. I counted’em when dey’s puttin’
"em on, and dey cut like forty, too.”

“Forty-two what?” asked a gruff voice by Zeb’s side, in
very good English.

“Gorra mighty, who's dat 2?”

No answer was given.

“Who de debbil was dat?” asked Zeb, speaking to Rosa-
lind.

She made no answer and appeared to be lost in a reverie.
Zeb repeated his question but failed to elicit any reply. Maut-
tering something to himself, he permitted her silence to remain
undisturbed.

There were two horses in the party, and upon one of these
Rosalind had been placed. The other was bestrode by a say-
age, who appeared to be the leader of the band. Zeb’s hands
were pinioned behind his back, and he was compelled to walk
behind the horse of Rosalind, with a guard that kept a close
eye upon his movements,

Silently yet rapidly the body moved along through the for-
est of impenctrable darkness, where a perfect knowledge was
required in order to make the least progress. Rosalind’s horse
was a powerful creature, and carried her with comparative
comfort. Now and then the cold leaves brushed her face, or
her body grazed some tree, yet the animal carried her safely

¢
 

ROSALIND’S CHARGE TO ZEB, 27

and unharmed, Several times the thought of escape flashed
upon her. It seemed easy to turn her horse’s head and gal-
lop beyond the reach of her enemies. But one of them was
mounted, and she believed she could elude him. She could
ride down those immediately around her, and what was there
to prevent her making good her escape ?

And yet, after a few more minutes of thought, she aban-
doned all hopes of liberty for the present. Her brother was
free, and would leave no means untried until she was again
restored to him; and there was another one, who, she knew
in her heart, would exert himself to the utmost to save her.
This thought caused her heart to beat faster and faster. There
was a slight tremor in her voice as she spoke :

“Zeb, come a, little nearer to me.”

He made a moyement, but was unable to approach much
nearer.

“ Are you listening ?” she asked, in a subdued tone.

“ Yes, missus; mouth, ears and eyes is open.”

“Then,” said she, bending toward him and lowering her
voice still more, “I wish to ask you, Zeb, whether you would
do me a favor ?”

“Tord bless you, missus, you knows Td die a hundred
times for you.”

“T believe you would,” returned Rosalind, touched by his
tone and words; “but it is no hardship that I ask of you.”

“ Well, out with it quick, fur dese fellers don’t like to see
yer horse’s side rubbin’ all de wool off ob my head.”

“You are acquainted with Roland Leslie, Zeb?” asked
Rosalind, bending lower and speaking in a whisper which she
scarcely heard herself.

“Yes,” answered Zeb, breathing hurriedly.

“Well, should you see him, tell him of my situation ; and
—and—tell him not to run into danger for my sake.”

“J will,” rejoined Zeb, fervently.

Here a savage, judging that matters had gone far enough,
jerked the negro rudely back. ’

“You needn’t be so spiteful,” retorted Zeb; “she's told me
all she’s agwine to.”

Rosalind had done so; nothing further passed between
them.

 
   

  

28 KENT, THE RANGER.

Toward morning they reached the banks of a stream,
where the savages divided into two parties. The one which
retained the negro started down the Ohio, while those who
held Rosalind continued their journey in a southerly direc-
tion.

The course of the former has already been given, and also
a part of their doings. The latter, which numbered twenty,
experienced nothing worthy of record for a considerable time,
They moved forward rapidly, as they had some fears of pur-
suit. This was their reason for retaining Rosalind with
them. They were cunning enough to know that what ef-
forts might be made would be for her sake, while probably
the negro would be left to himself.

Their progress south continued until Rosalind knew that
she was many miles in Kentucky. They had kept along the
banks of a river during the whole time, which she also
knew to be the Big Sandy. From this she judged that
her captors were a tribe, or at least a part of one, which
belonged many miles distant from where her home had
been.

Throughout all her trials, Rosalind relied upon Providence
with a firm, unshaken faith. Although hope dawned but
faintly upon her, she murmured not. Her fears were great
for others beside herself. She was young, and her youthful
blood coursed through her veins, bearing with it the pless-
ures and hopes of life just commenced. It was hard to die,
hard to give up the hopes which had only begun to dawn in
her bosom ; yet, if it was His will, she felt that she could go
without a murmur. “Thy will be done,” was the prayer
which but herself and Heaven heard.

 
  

 

 

ROLAND ON. THE RIVER.

CHAPTER “V™
THE MEETING ON THE RIVER.

For some minutes after Zeb’s disappearance, Leslie re-
mained without moving, scarcely breathing for fear there
might still be some Indians overhead; but as minute after
minute wore by, and no sound above warned him that his
enemies were in the vicinity, he managed to creep from. his
hiding-place and seat himself upon a rock near by.

Now that he was safe for the present, he began to examine
his wounds. There being no strong emotion to occupy his
mind, the pain again came upon him, and he feared that. he
might be dangerously hurt; but, upon examination he was
gratified to see that he was only bruised in two or three
places. In falling, he had first struck upon his feet; his side,
from the force of the concussion, came rather violently in
contact with the jagged, projecting rocks. This gave a few
severe flesh-cuts, which, for the time being, were more pain-
ful and distressing than would have been a wound of a more
serious character.

Still, he found that he was unable to walk without great
labor and pain, and concluded to remain in his present posi-
tion until morning. He crawled back* into the hiding-place,
and disposed of himself for the night. Little sleep, however,
was gained, and the night seemed the longest that he had
ever spent.

When morning dawned, he emerged from his hard rest-
ing-place, and, with great difficulty, made his way to the top.
Then, shaping his course toward the river, he reached it in
the course of an hour or so. Here, to his great joy, he
found the boat that he and Kent had left. It was pulled high
and dry upon the bank, yet he succeeded in getting it in the
water, and, with a light heart, pushed out from the shore.

It was so much easier to propel the boat than to walk, that
he had no difficulty in making good headway. He had te-
termined upon no course to pursue, but continued moving
forward with a sort of instinct, hardly caring in what

 

  
 

80 KENT, THE RANGER.

direction he went. He was moving toward the spot where
once the house of the Lelands stood; some impulse seemed
drawing him thitherward.

The truth was, Roland Leslie was thinking of Rosalind and
her situation. Although he had spoken to her but compara-
tively a few times, yet those occasions had awakened a feel-
ing in his breast which he found could not be subdued ; his
love was growing day by day. He knew not whether she
was aware of his passion, but his fluttering heart told him, at
least, that she had not frowned upon him.

Young love rests upon the slightest foundation; thus Les-
lie was encouraged and made hopeful by the remembrance of
the friendly meeting which he had with Rosalind. Then, as
he awoke from this pleasant reverie into which he had fallen,
the consciousness that she was now a captive among the In-
dians, the thought maddened him. He dipped his oars deep
in the water, and moved swiftly along.

It occurred to him that perhaps it would be best to keep a
watch of the shores ahead, to prevent running carelessly into
danger. There might be Indians concealed or lurking in the
vicinity, and he would be easily drawn into a decoy, should
he be careless and thoughtless. =

He turned around and scanned the shore more closely and
searchingly. Seeing nothing suspicious, he was about to
resume rowing again, when, from an overhanging cluster of
bushes came the sharp crack of a rifle, and a bullet split one
of the oars, a few inches below his hand. Seizing his rifle,
he turned toward the point from which the shot had come,
but could see no person. The thin wreath of smoke curling
slowly up from the bushes showed the point from which it
had been given; but whoever the person might be, he kept
himself well concealed. In a moment another shot was
given, which glanced ovcr the water a few feet from the
stern.

Leslie began to think that he was in rather a close situa-
tion, and clutching his rifle nervously, endeavored to ascertain
the point from which the shot had come, determined to return
one at all hazards. He did not dare to pass over to the op-
posite side, for he had a suspicion that they were intended for
that purpose. He believed that his person had not been

¢
&

FIRING ON A FRIEND. 3t

aimed at, but the balls had been intended to pass closely
enough to alarm him and cause him to seek safety by pulling
for the other shore, where, probably, a foe was waiting.
While he sat undetermined what course to pursue, a form
stepped out in full view upon the bank, and accosted him.

“ Frightened any ?”

“ Well, I should think I ought to be. Why, is that you,
George ?”

“T believe so. Come in and take me aboard.”

“What reason had you for firing upon me?” asked Leslie,
approaching him.

“Well, not any. I saw you coming down-stream, and an
idea seized me to learn if you were easily frightened.”

“T felt rather nervous when that shot came,” returned Les-
lie, pointing at the hole in his oar.

“Tt was a close rub; but, of course, I took good care not
to make it too close.”

“What is the news? What reason have you for being
here ?” asked Leslie, interrupting him.

“ News enough,” returned Leland, gloomily.

“Step in the boat and let me hear it.”

As they passed down-stream, Leland narrated his story, and
when he had finished, remarked :

“Roland, I have sought you for advice i assistance, and
I trust both will be given me.”

“Gladly! Do you think, George, that I could rest as long
as your sister is in the hands of those savages ?”

“Pardon me,” returned Leland, “if I at all doubted. This
affliction weighs heavily upon me.”

OF suspected this state of things,” continued Leslie, “ and
it is the reason that I hurried down-stream. Yet the uncer-
tainty of seeing you or any friend, deterred me from making
haste to your place.”

Here Leslie gave the circumstances of his encountering Zeb,
and his subsequent misfortune, or, as he termed it, his fortune,
of falling in the gorge. :

“Then Kent is gone, is he” asked George, when he had
finished. “That is too bad, for we need his assistance greatly.”

“Tn fact, I do not understand what we shall be able to do
without him,” added Leslie.

 
 

34 KENT, THE RANGER.

few rods separated them, but not a breath or fluttering of a
leaf disturbed the profound silence.

When at the nearest point, scarcely more than two rods
would separate them. Still onward the boat swept until its
prow was even with the log.

“Ready,” whispered Leslie, “ you take the nearest one.”

The next instant the enemies were in full view of each
other. Simultaneously the two rifles in the boat broke the
solemn stillness. But not a sound showed whether their shots
had produced any effect at all! Not a savage’s head, how-
ever, could be seen! They either had been slain or else had
quietly drawn out of sight when they became aware of the
danger that menaced them. The latter was most probably
the case, although neither of the whites could satisfy himself
upon that point.

As the thin haze from the guns diffused itself over the spot,
the same oppressive silence settled upon the water, and the
same absence of life was manifest in every thing around. So
sudden had been the interruption, that, a few minutes after-
ward, it was almost impossible to realize that it had actually
occurred. More than once both Leslie and Leland caught
themselves debating this very point in their minds.

For a few montents the two remained concealed within the
boat, for they well knew that danger yet threatened ; but,
nervously excited over the event, Leland, with a sad want of
discretion, peered over the gunwale of the canoe.

“Down, instantly,’ admonished his companion, catching
his shoulder.

The report of another gun came at that very instant, and
George dropped so suddenly and awkwardly out of sight, that
Leslie inquired with much concern:

“ Are you hurt ?”

“ Pretty near it, at any rate,” returned Leland, putting his
hand to his face,

He was not struck, however, although the ball had grazed
and marked his cheek. The instant Leland saw that he was
not injured, he raised himself and aimed toward the log. No
sign of an enemy was visible, and not knowing but what there

might be more loaded rifles behind the Ee he dropped
his head again,
WAITING FOR KENT. 35

Peering cautiously over the gunwale, the young man saw
the raft gradually approaching the Kentucky shore. The
Indians possessing no means of reloading their pieces without
running great risk, probably deemed it best to make a sate
retreat.

The distance between the whites and the savages slowly
but surely increased, and when the former judged they were
comparatively safe, they arose and plied their paddles.

“ Now if we can only come across Kent, I shall be pretty
hopeful of getting out of the woods,” remarked Leslie.

“But how is that to be done? There is just the trouble.”

“T think he will find ws if we only wait for him.”

“T agree with you, that it is all that we can do. We will
row down-stream a short distance further, where we will be
sheltered more from the observation of our enemies, and wait
uatil he comes, or until it is pretty certain that he will not.”

Leslie bent to his oars, and the boat again shot forward.
Each now felt a stronger hope. The depression of spirits
under which Leland was laboring began to undergo a reaction.

Leslie was naturally of a more buoyant disposition than
Leland, and seldom suffered those spells of melancholy which
are so apt to affect those of a temperament less sanguine. The
latter at seasons was more light-hearted than the former, yet
adverse circumstances easily affected and depressed him.

The locality to which Leslie had referred was a place in
the river where the overhanging boughs and underwood were
so thick and luxuriant that it was an easy matter to send a
small boat beneath them and remain effectually hidden from
any enemy passing up or down the river,

Their plan was to conceal themselves, and thus, while
affording themselves comparative security, to keep an unremit-
ting watch for the appearance of Kent. They expected, and
in fact were certain, that he would descend the opposite side,
which, from their hiding-place, could be easily seen.

Leslie, with a vigorous pull, sent the boat under the sweep-
ing branches, and, coming to rest, remarked :

“There, George, we are safe for the present. An Indian
might pass within twenty feet of us, and not dream of our
proximity.”

“True, Leland, I feel glad that we are thus fortunate.”

 
   

  

36 KENT, THE RANGER.

“ See,” continued Leslie, “ what a nice arrangement. From
my seat I can keep a good view of the opposite side.”

“ How long do you intend to remain here ?” asked Leland,
whose fears were ever on the alert.

““Can’t say precisely.”

“Remember that food will be necessary, and. soon neces-
sary, too.”

“T am aware of that, yet we can do without it for some
time. If Kent is going to pass us, it will be during ‘to-
morrow.” :

“Leslie,” said Leland, earnestly, “I have been thinking
deeply upon our chances of meeting him, and I must confess
that they seem few indeed.”

“T do not doubt it. They would have the same appear-
ance to me, were it not for one thing. I have been caleu-
lating, and though, of course, a great deal of guess-work has
been employed, yet I think that I have come to a very nearly
correct conclusion. I’m pretty positive that if Kent reaches
us, it will be in the neighborhood of to-morrow at mid-day.
Not seeing him, I shall fire my rifle. Kent knows the sound
of it, and will search for us.”

“Perhaps he may not be upon the opposite shore.”

“Which will be as well, yet I can think of no reason that
would induce him to cross.”

“Tn the mean time, how do you propose that we pass away
time and keep off ennwi.”

“Tn sleep, if that is possible.”

“T think it is with myself,” returned Leland, with a light
laugh.

“ And the same with me,” added Leslie.

“Well, the circumstances being favorable, I propose that
we commence operations at once.”

“A good suggestion.”

Both disposed themselves as best they could in the boat,
and being tired and fatigued, were soon asleep.

 

we
  

preteen ti

 

THE, SILENCE BROKEN.

OHAsP! TER Vi Lb.
LOST AND FOUND.

THE two young men slept soundly through the night.
When Leslie awoke it was broad day, and his companion was
still asleep. He suffered him to remain so until the day was
well advanced. Then each felt the pangs of hunger., Leland
proposed that one should land and go in quest of food, but
Leslie answered :

“Tf Kent appears, it will be in the course of a few hours.
We had better wait and see what comes of patience.”

Another hour of silence wore away. Leland was about to
speak when Leslie exclaimed, in a whisper:

“Hush !”

They listened intently. In a moment the steady, measured
dip of paddles could be heard. Whoever was approaching
had little fear or apprehension of danger; for they came fear-
lessly along, and were moving with considerable noise and
swiftness.

Leland and Leslie held their breath as the sound came
steadily nearer. Not a whisper was exchanged. The former,
from his position, could not discern any object that might be
passing, but the latter had a full view of the river.

In a moment the whole force passed before Leslie’s eyes.
Two canoes loaded with Indians-glided past, unconscious of
their proximity. Hach drew a long breath of relief; but for
a considerable time neither ventured a whisper.

“Tt appears to me that Indians are plenty in these parts,”
remarked Leland.

“Rather more than I could wish,” returned his companion.

“ Confound it, it will soon be time to fire your gun, and of
course the savages will hear it.”

“ But for all that I shall risk it. It will not do to let Kent
escape us.”

“How soon do you intend discharging your piece ?”
“Tn an hour or so.”
“Well, see here, Roland, if Kent comes, it can not be

 

  
 

88 KENT, THE RANGER.

expected that he will have any food. The report of your gun
will doubtless reach the ears of enemies as well as friends.”

“T expect it will.”

“And still further: if such be the case, we shall not dare
to land for fear of an encounter. We may be obliged to re-
main concealed for a few days, and no means will be left to
procure food during that time. Now, what I am coming at
is this: while we have an opportunity to get it, let us do it.”

“How do you propose obtaining it ?”

“Easily enough. Just let me land, and I will insure you
success in a short time.”

“ But you have overlooked one thing.”

“What is it?”

“The report of your gun will be heard as well as mine,
and will be as likely to attract the attention of any enemies in
the neighborhood.” e

“That is true, but I can reach the boat in time.”

“And although Kent is within a short distance, I shall not
dare to apprise him of our situation.”

“Such appears to be the case; but you must see that it is
absolutely necessary that some means should be taken to secure
food.”

“T admit it, and am willing that you should try.”

“Hold!” exclaimed Leland, brightening up. “I have a
plan. You say that Kent, in the course of an hour or so, will
probably be near enough for you to fire. I will try and not
bring down any game until that time, and the minute you
hear the report of my gun you must discharge yours. This
will have the effect that you wish, and I shall have time to
reach you before any one can come up.”

“A capital idea,” said Leslie. ‘Hearing two guns, the
Indians will have a little more fear in approaching us, than
they would did they hear but one You deserve credit,
George, for the thought.”

“Remember, and wait until you hear my gun, before you
fire yours,” replied he.

“T will wait an hour, Cabiae and then, whether I hear
yours or not, I shall discharge mine. As I said awhile ago,
it won’t do to let Kent escape us, and I must be sure to warn
him.”

e
  

  

THE QUESTION OF FOOD. 89

“T trust that I shall encounter game before that time; but
should I not, you must do as you said. I will return upon
hearing you.”

“ And return instantly,” said Leslie, impressively. ‘“ Don’t
wait until the danger is increased. Although it may seem
that a few minutes will enable you to procure abundant food,
don’t wait a single minute. It may cost you your life, if you
do.” ‘

“J will remember your advice. Now shove in a little
nearer shore and I will be off.”

Leslie brought the boat to the bank, and Leland stepped
off.

“Try and not be gone long; do not wander too far, for it
will be an easy thing to get lost in this forest. Remember
that it will take you considerable time to reach me, and if the
distance be too great, an enemy may be ahead of you. Be
careful*in all your movements, and be sure to return the
instant that my gun is heard.”

“J will try and obey you,” returned Leland. And George
disappeared in the mazes of the woods.

Leslie returned to his former position, and more to occupy
his mind than any thing else, gazed out upon the broad bosom
of the Ohio, as it glided majestically along, through the dark

“shadows of the forest. It then presented a far different ap-

pearance from what it does at this day. No crowded cities
then lined its banks. The flaming steamboat had not broken
its surface; the canoe, gliding noiselessly over it, was all that
gave token of the presence of man. A rude cabin erected in
some lone spot in the wilderness, like a green spot in the
desert, showed the feeble footing which he had upon the soil.

Solemuly and silently the old Ohio rolled along through its
hundreds of miles until it as solemnly and silently united
with the great father of waters.

When one has recently passed through an exciting and
momentous occurrence, and is then left completely alone, it is
difficult to keep from falling into a reverie; the subject which
interests the mind most will finally occupy it to the exclusion
of every thing else.

Thus it was with Roland Leslie. At first he began specu-
lating upon the probable success of Leland’s enterprise ; then

 

  
 

40 KENT, THE RANGER.

upon the probability of his arresting the attention of Kent,
should he chance to be in the vicinity. Having considered
this for some time, he reflected upon the dangers through
which he had passed, and upon the likelihood of further de-
liverance from them. This thought called to mind his mis-
hap among the rocks, and he proceeded to examine his
wounds, of which, for some time, he had entirely ceased to
think. These being not very severe, as we have shown, had
failed to trouble him, and he was glad to see that they needed
no more attention.

Again left to his thoughts, they shortly wandered to Rosa-
lind Leland. Where was she? Was she alive, or already
slain? Was there any hope of meeting her again? Could
he do any thing toward rescuing her from bondage? He felt
certain that she was alive, although a close prisoner, and was
confident that recovery was possible. That he determined
she should be rescued, and that he should be the one that
would do it, was not strange.

Love will upset the mind of any person, and at times play
the wild with him. Leslie was naturally clear-headed, far-
sighted and sagacious; yet, when he permitted his ideas: to
dwell upon the object of his love, they sadly misused him.
At such times he was another person. He lost sight of the
obstacles and dangers which would have been apparent to any
one gifted with ordinary shrewdness; and he formed plans
which, in his sober moments, would have only excited his
ridicule.

Strange as it may seem for such a person to have been
guilty of such an idea, Leslie had not pondered upon the ab-
sorbing topic for any length of time before he deliberately
came to the conclusion to rescue Rosalind in the course of
three days, to rebuild her old home, and settle down with her
for the rest of his life! Of course the savages would never
disturb him, and he should be, without doubt, the happiest
mortal in existence !

He was suddenly awakened from his reverie by the faint
report of Leland’s rifle. It sounded fully a mile distant, and
the certainty of his danger made him tremble with apprehen-
sion. George, as he feared, had forgotten the warning given
him, and, in the excitement, had unconsciously wandered to a

 

=

Aa i it al, a

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ee FD

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alta, af ioe

a Tl Se

THE SIGNALS, AND THE SAVAGES. 41

greater distance than he supposed. In all probability he was
lost, and would be obliged to seek the river and follow it in
order to find Leslie. This would require time, and he had
already exposed himself to danger by firing his gun.

Although Roland had promised to fire upon hearing Le-
land, yet he forebore to doit. The difference which a half-
hour would make in the probability of Kent’s hearing his
own gun, would be in his favor. He supposed that Leland,
upon discharging his piece, had instantly set out to return,
and he wished to give him almost sufficient time to reach
him. |

Anxiously and painfully Roland listened, with his finger
upon the trigger of his gun; and, as minute after minute
wore away without a sound reaching him, he began to hope
that Leland could be at no great distance.

A few more minutes were passed, when Roland concluded
that the time for firing his signal had arrived. It would
serve to guide Leland, and, had he not deceived himself,
would reach the ears of Kent. Standing up in the boat, he
raised the gun above his head, and was already pressing the
trigger, when he paused, as he heard the sharp crack of Le-
land’s rifle at no great distance. He waited a few seconds,
until the echo had died away, and then discharged his own.

He remained stationary a moment, as though to permit the
sound to escape entirely from his rifle. Then, reseating him-
self, proceeded to reload it. This done, he impatiently lis-
tened for a returning signal. He had placed a great deal of
reliance and hope upon that shot, and, as he now was so soon
to learn whether it had accomplished what he wished, he
could not keep down his fearful anxiety.

He was nervous, and listened with painful interest for the
slightest sound. The falling of a leaf startled him; and, at
last, unable to restrain himself, he determined again to fire his
gun.

At that instant there came a crash of Leland’s rifle, fol-
lowed by the maddened shouts of infuriated savages, so near
that Leslie sprung to his feet and gazed about him. Recoy-
ering himself, he stooped, and, seizing a paddle, began shov-
ing the boat toward shore, fully determined to afford his
friend all the assistance that lay in his power.

 
 

42 KENT, THE RANGER.

The boat had hardly touched, when there was a rustling in
the bushes directly before him, and the next instant Kent
stood beside him.

“ Quick—shove out! They are after me!” he exclaimed,
springing into the boat and grasping the oars

“ Where is George ?” asked Leslie.

“They’ve got him, and came nigh getting me. Cuss the
infernal devils !”

In a moment the two had freed themselves from the °
bushes. As the yells of their enemies were heard upon the
shore, they had reached the center of the stream, and were
passing swiftly downward.

CHAP TE Revert Ls
THE COMPANION IN CAPTIVITY.

WHEN Leland left the boat, he wandered forward for a
considerable distance, not noticing the direction in which he
was going, only intent upon securing game of some sort or
other. Still, he exercised considerable caution in his move-
ments, and determined not to risk a shot unless he was cer-
tain of his success. Birds and quadrupeds were plenty, and
he did not entertain any doubts of his ability to secure all
that he wished. He permitted several good shots to pass, for
the reason that he did not wish to fire until the hour was up.
By this means he unconsciously increased the distance be-
tween himself and Leslie, until it occurred to him that the
hour had nearly expired. A few minutes after, having a
good opportunity, he improved it, and, securing his prize,
turned to retrace his steps.

Then it flashed upon him, for the first time, that he was
lest. As we said, he had failed to notice the direction, and
had no idea of the course to pursue in order to reach the
river. The only means left was to proceed by guess; con-
trary to what might be expected, he took the right course.
His anxiety caused him to be somewhat heedless; and after
HOW LELAND WAS CAPTURED. 43

proceeding a short distance, he again discharged his rifle.
Then hearing the report of Leslie’s rifle but a short distance
away, he set joyously forward, confident of soon coming up to
him. He had not gone far when he heard a suppressed, sig-
nificant whistle. Hardly conscious of its meaning, he paused
and listened. It was repeated, and becoming suspicious, he
sprung behind a tree. While listening, the subdued voice of
Kent reached him:

“ Make for the river, George; the imps are on your trail.”

He turned to obey this injunction, but had not taken a
dozen steps when a rifle flamed from some concealment, and
a twinge in his side told him that he was wounded. At the
same instant several savages sprung toward hin, setting up
their demoniac howls. The pain of his wound maddened
him, and, regardless of consequences, he raised his rifle and
shot the foremost through the breast, when scarcely the length
of his gun from him.

This act, though rash, and one which he would not have
done in his cooler moments, was the means eventually of sav-
ing his life. The intention of the savages was to kill him on
the spot; but the death of one of their number increased their
fury and thirst for vengeance, and the chief or leader deterred
the others from further violence, determined that his death
should be at the stake.

“You shoot Indian, eh 2” said one, through his closed teeth,
brandishing his knife at the same time in the face of the young _
man.

He made no reply; but weakened by the loss of blood,
sunk fainting to the ground. He was jerked to his feet, and
although barely able to stand, was forced forward, and com-
pelled to keep pace with the others.

The Indians who had thus captured Leland were the same
band who had pursued him and Kent. The latter had taken
a circuitous course, and, after placing a considerable distance
between himself and his enemies, took the back track and
reached the gorge where Leslie had fallen, hoping to find him
there; but being disappointed, followed his trail to the river
where he saw that he had embarked in the boat. +

Kent knew that his own trail would be followed. In order
to mislead the savages, he took to the water and swam about

 
 

 

44 KENT, THE RANGER.

a half-mile down-stream before he landed upon the opposite
side. But it seemed that fate was against him. The savages
in pursuing him had separated somewhat. Kent’s ruse one
of them accidentally discovered, and apprised his companions.
They collected and immediately took the right trail. The
first intimation the ranger had of his danger was the whistling
of a bullet a few inches from his head, as he was nearing the
bank; and when his feet rested upon land, his unwearied and
tenacious enemies were in the river, boldly crossing toward
him.

When the Indians reached the bank, Kent was already at a
great distance, yet they continued their pursuit, and had gone
some distance, when the first report of Leland’s rifle reached
their ears. This they mistook for Kent's, and abandoning the
trail, made directly toward it. The second discharge of the
young man’s gun occurred when he was but a short distance
from them. Kent endeavored to warn him of his danger, but
as we have seen, it was too late. He himself was discovered
and hotly pursued to the boat, where he barely succeeded in
making his escape.

Leland’s captors took up their march toward the Ohio.
Here, although their captive was suffering intense agony, they
forced him into the water, and compelled him to swim across.
Every stroke he thought would be his last, yet he reached the
shore in safety. The band set forward at once. There were
six savages, upon two of whom the duty of attending Leland
devolved. Yet he required little watching or attention. The
thought of escape was far from his mind; he was in a sad
situation to rebel or offer resistance. Both hands were firmly
secured behind him, and his strength was taxed to the utmost
to keep up with his captors.

In the course of a couple of hours they came upon two of
their companions, seated around and amusing themselves with
a negro. Each appeared to enjoy himself prodigiously at the
expense of the poor African, who was boiling over with furi-
ous rage.

“Get out, niggers!” he shouted, “my head’s split wide
open now, sure !”

Here one of the savages amused himself by letting the end
of a weighty stick fall upon the head of the negro. The
MEETING OF MASTER AND SERVANT. 45

luxuriant wool caused it to rebound again, to the infinite
delight of the tormentors, who smiled horribly at it.

Leland recognized Zeb as he came up. It gave him a sort
of pleasure, or rather served to lighten his pain, to know that
they were to be companions in captivity. He could probably
obtain information of Rosalind, while the conversation of the
slave might assist to keep off the gloom which was settling
over him.

“ Gorra, ef dar ain’t massa Leland,” exclaimed the negro,
turning toward the approaching Indians. “ High! whar’d
you come from, George? What did you let ’em cotch you
fur?”

“Because I could not prevent it,” returned he, with a faint
smaile.

“Well, now, if’t had been dis pusson, you see, dey’d ’ve
had some trouble.”

“ How is it that you are here, then?”

“Well, dat question requires considerable explanation. I
know’d as how dey’s agoin’ to git you, and so I just come
along to help you out de scrape.”

Here the conversation ceased for the present. Leland had
stretched himself upon the ground, and the pain of his wound
inereased. <A savage noticing this, prepared a sort of poultice
of pounded leaves and herbs, and placed it upon his side.
Had this been done with a view to alleviate his suffering and
not to preserve him for a great and awful torture, as it really
was, Leland might have felt disposed to thank him for it.

It had now begun to grow dark. A. fire was started, and
in a short time a large quantity of meat was roasted. A
piece of this was offered to Leland, but, though a short time
before he had felt keenly the pangs of hunger, the sight of
food now filled him with loathing.

Ҥposen you offer dis pusson a few pounds, just to see if
he'll take it,” suggested Zeb, gazing wistfully toward the In-
dian who held it. ,

Several pieces were- given him, all of which he devoured
yoraciously and demanded more, An Indian approached him,
and holding a piece within a few inches of his mouth, jerked
it away as he was about to seize it. This was repeated sey-
eral times, until Zeb, losing all patience, became morose and

 
 

46 KENT, THE RANGER.

sullen and refused to snap at it. The savage seemed disposed

to humor him and held it still closer. Zeb, watching his
opportunity, made a quick motion, and nearly severed the
finger of his tormentor’s hand, between his teeth. The savage
dropped the meat with a howl, and furiously shaking his
wounded member, fairly danced with pain. He would have
undoubtedly killed the negro had not his companions pre-
vented. They enjoyed the sport and encouraged Zeb, who
devoured his food for some time in dignified silence.

“Wouldn’t mind tryin’ some more. S’posen you hold out
yer other hand!”

No one noticed this remark, and the negro was obliged to
rest satisfied with what he had obtained.

As night came on, the savages stretched themselves upon
the earth and left the prisoners to themselves. Each was
securely fastened. Leland was within a few feet of Zeb, yet
he concluded to wait until all were asleep before he ventured
to hold converse with him.

At length, when the night had considerably advanced, and
the heavy breathing of the savages showed that slumber had
at last settled upon them, George turned his head so that he
faced the negro, and abruptly asked:

“Zeb, what do you know of my sister ?”

“ Noffin’ !” returned the negro, earnestly.

“Were you not taken off together?”

“At fust we was; but dey took her one way and me
anoder.” He then proceeded to narrate all the circumstances
which had occurred to him, since the burning of the house,
in his own characteristic way.

“T am afraid you will soon have your last adventure,” said
Leland.

“Gorra! does you s’pose dat dey’d dare to shake a stick at
me when I’s mad.”

“T think they were engaged at that when I came up.”

“Well, dat you see is a mistake.”

“ Have you heard any thing hinted of the manner in which
they intend to dispose of you ?”

“Not much, but I consates dat I knows. Dey’ll just make
me dar chief, if I'll stay wid ’em, and I’s bout ’cluded dat I
would, just so dat I can pay ’em for dis trick.”

4
wy

A NIGHT OF ANXIETY. 4

“Have they made the proposition yet?” asked George,
feeling a strange impulse to amuse himself.

“Well, bout as good. Dey axed me not to hurt ’em, and
said somefin’ ’bout tying somebody to a tree and roastin’ ’em.
S’pose dey’s ’fraid I'll do it to all ob’em one dese days, if dey
isn’t careful.”

“Why do they misuse you, if they intend to elevate you ?”

“ Well, dat’s hard to tell. They’ve gone and went and cut
all my curls off.”

“Never mind such things,’ said Leland, again feeling
depressed. “In all probability neither you nor I will see
many more days. Unless we are rescued pretty soon, we
shall be past all human help. I advise you, Zeb, to let serious
thoughts enter your mind. Think of the world which you
are soon to enter, and try and make some preparation for it.”

The negro gazed wonderingly at Leland, then turned his
head without speaking. The words probably had some effect
upon him, for he made no further observations. His silence
seemed occasioned by the doom pending over him.

That night was one never to be forgotten by Leland, The
pain of his wound, and the still greater pain of his thoughts,
prevented a moment’s sleep. Hour after hour he gazed into
the smoldering embers before him, buried in deep meditation,
and conjuring up fantastic figures in the glowing coals. Then
he watched the few stars which were twinkling through the
branches overhead, and the sighing of the solemn night-wind
made music that chorded with the feclings of his soul.

Far in the small hours of the night, he lay still awake.
sending up his prayer to the only eye that saw him, and to
the only one that could assist him.

76s e% noth fs 023

 
 

  

KENT, THE RANGER.

CHAPTER” EX:
ZEB’S REVENGE.

WueEn the King of Terrors shakes his sword at his victim,
unwonted yearnings come over the human heart. To die
alone, removed from home and friends, when strange faces
are beside us, is a fate which we all fervently pray may not
be ours. Yet, when these strangers are enemies, and our
death is at their hands—when every shriek or moan elicits
only jeers and laughter, how unspeakably dreadful is the
fate! He who has lost’ a dear friend in war, that has lan-
guished and died in the hands of strangers, and perhaps re-
ceived no burial at their hands—he who mourns such a loss,
may be able to appreciate, in some degree, the mournful situ-
ation of young Leland, in the hands of the malignant
Shawnees.

It is at such times as these, if at no other, that the stricken
and bowed heart turns to the One who alone can cheer and
sustain. When shut out from all prospect of human help,
and conscious that there is but one arm which is not short-
ened, we do not draw back from calling upon that arm to
sustain us in the dark hour of trial.

With the dull glow of the slumbering camp-fire, the gro-
tesque groups of almost unconscious sleepers, the solemn
sighing of the night-wind, and the twinkle of the stars
through the branches overhead—with such mournful sur-
roundings as these, George Leland sent up his prayer of agony
to God.

He prayed, not for life, but for the preparation to meet
the death impending. The soft wailing of the night-zephyr
seemed to warn him that the death-angel was approaching
every moment. He prayed for his beloved sister in the
hands of ruthless enemies—prayed only as he could pray
when he realized her peril. And he sent up his petition for
the safety of Leslie, who might still be awaiting his return—
for the rough ranger with him, and for the rude, untutored
negro, now his brother-prisoner.

 

  
WHAT AWOKE LELAND. 49

A short distance away, he could discern the shadowy form
of Zeb, bound against a tree, while scattered around him were
stretched the savage sentinels, whether asleep or not he was
unable to tell. As for that matter, however, they might as
well have been unconscious as awake, for the slumber of the
North American Indian is so delicate that a falling leaf is
sufficient to disturb it.

The heart of Leland bled for the poor ignorant colored
man. His prolonged silence showed that he had begun to
realize, in some measure, his appalling situation. His natural
thoughtlessness and recklessness could not last forever. It
might carry him into many a danger, but not beyond it.

he Shawnees seemed to imagine that the bonds of the
prisoners were secure, and that there was no possibility of
their escape. In fact, Leland had no hopes of release. Had
his hands been free, he might have ventured to do some-
thing; but at present they were as useless as if he were
deprived altogether of those members.

Tt was fully an hour beyond midnight, when, in spite of
his situation, Leland began to yield to the fatigue of the day.
His head drooped upon his breast, and he started fitfully. It
is at such times as these that the nervous system seems to be
most fully alive to what is passing. The prisoner was just
in this state of mind when his attention was arrested by a
sound no louder than the murmuring wind above him—so
low, indeed, that it would have escaped his attention alto-
gether, had it not been of a character different from that
monotonous moaning.

With the consciousness of this sound, came also the knowl-
edge that it was a continuous one, and had been in progress
some time. At first it seemed to be in the tree above him,
but a moment’s listening proved that it came from the direc-
tion of the negro, Zeb. The darkness had deepened some-
what during the last hour, so that he could barely make the
outline of the fellow, but could not discern any motion upon
his part, unless it was an absolute change of position.

All doubt as to Zeb being the author of the disturbing
sound was removed as soon as Leland became fully awake.
It came directly from toward him, and was of such a nature
that it could not have been caused by one of MS Sleeping

 
 

50 KENT, THE RANGER.

Shawnees. With his eyes intently fixed upon the shadowy
outlines of the negro, Leland saw the upper part of his body
move forward, and then suddenly straighten itself again.
This singular movement was repeated several times, and then,
to his amazement, he saw the African step clear away from
the tree and approach him!

As Zeb deposited his foot upon the ground, it was slowly
and cautiously, and at each time he threw his outstretched
arms upward, like a bird when flying, distorting his face also,
as if the effort caused him extreme pain. But he passed the
sleepers safely, and was soon beside his master.

“ How did you succeed in freeing yourself?” he asked.

“Golly, I chawed ’em off!” he replied, with a suppressed
chuckle. “Had a great notion of chawin’ de tree off, so
dat it mought fall on dem and broke dar necks.”

“Sh! you are making too much noise,” admonished
Leland, in a guarded whisper.

“Shall I eat up your cords ?”

“Loosen them around my wrists and arms, and then I
will help myself.”

“Yere’s de instruments dat will do dat same tiing,” said
Zeb, applying himself to the task at once. He progressed
with such celerity and success that in a few moments, to Le-
land’s unspeakable delight, he found his arms at liberty. It
need scarcely be said that these were immediately used to
assist the negro in his further efforts.

The excitement and nervousness of the young man were so
great, that when his limbs were freed of the fetters he was
scarcely able to stand, and, for a few moments, was on the
very verge of fainting. The sudden renewal of hope over-
came him for the time. By a powerful effort he regained his
self-possession, and strove, in the few hurried seconds that
were his, to decide upon some means of action.

It may be said that the two prisoners were literally sur-
rounded by savages. They were stretched on every side of
them, and before either dare hope to escape, it was necessary
(if the expression be allowable) to scale the dreaded prison-
wall. Leland had good cause to fear success for himself and
his sable companion in this attempt. He found, to his cha-
grin and dismay, that scarcely any reliance at all could be

 
THE CRITICAL MOMENT. 81

placed upon his own limbs. His legs especially, from their
long confinement in one position, were so cramped and spas-
modic, that, when he stepped out from the tree to join the
negro, one of them doubled like a reed beneath him and let
him fall to the ground. He believed it was ail over with him ;
but his fall was so gentle as not to disturb tine sleepers, and
he once more raised himself to his feet.

“Shan’t I carry dat sick leg while you walk wid de oder
one?” inquired Zeb, in a sympathetic tone.

“Tt is almost useless to me at present,” replied Leland.
“ Let me Jean upon you while we walk, and for the love of
heaven, Zeb, be cautious. <A single mismove, and it will be
all up with us.”

“Strikes dis chile dat it was ober wid you jes’ now, de
way you cawalloped onto de ground jes’ now.”

““ My leg is asleep and numb.”

“ Let’s wake it up, den.”

Leland paused a few moments until the circulation was
somewhat restored; but, as every moment seemed so fraught
with peril to him, he whispered to the negro to move ahead,
repeating his petition for him to exercise the most, extreme
caution in all his movements.

After all, the young man knew that the peril of both lay
in the habitual recklessness of the ignorant fellow.

At first Zeb entirely overdid the matter. The trained ele-
phant that steps over the prostrate and pompous form of Van
Amburgh, was not more careful and tardy in the performance
of his feat than was the negro in passing the unconscious
form of a Shawnee, Although Leland deemed this circum-
spection unnecessary, he did not protest, as he feared, in
case he did so, the negro would run into the .opposite
extreme,

The foot of Zeb was lifted in the very act of stepping over
the third and last savage, when a smoldering ember parted,
and a twist of flame flared up. At that instant, he looked
down and recognized_in the features of the Indian, the one
who had taken such especial delight in tormenting him
through the day. The negro paused while he was yet astride
of him.

“Look dar!” he whispered, “ dat’s him; tired himself out

 
 

52 KENT, THE RANGER.

so much pullin’ at my wool, dat he is sleepin’ like a chicken
in de egg.”

Leland made no reply, but motioned for him to proceed ;
but Zeb stubbornly maintained his position.

“Look what a mouf he has!” he added; “tremenjus!
If ’twas only two, free inches wider on each side, he mought
outshine me; but it’s no use de way de affair is got up jes’
now.”

“Goon! go on!” repeated Leland, shoving him impa-
tiently with his hand. js a

“Tn jes’ one minit. Dat’s him dat bothered me so much
to-day. J’d like to smoke him for it! Gorra! if he hain’t
woke. Dar—take dat!”

The savage, who had been awakened and alarmed by the
voice of the negro, received a smashing blow. in his face, that
straightened him out completely. Realizing his imminent
peril, Leland at once leaped away in the woods at the top of
his speed, the negro taking a direction almost opposite.
Every Shawnee was aroused; the critical moment for the
fugitives was upon them.

CHAPTER X.
THE BRIEF REPRIEVE.

LELAND succeeded in getting outside the circle of savages,
when, feeling himself in the open woods, he dashed away at
the top of his speed. He ran with astonishing swiftness for
a few moments, when, as might naturally be expected, he so
exhausted himself that he was scarcely able to stand.

From the moment of starting, the Shawnees seemed to
understand the identity of the fugitives; and while they did
not neglect to send in pursuit of the flying negro, four of their
fleetest runners instantly dashed after the white man. Were
it in the daylight, the latter would not have stood a moment’s
chance against them; but he hoped to elude them in the
darkness and gloom of the woods. The obscuration being

 
  

 

LELAND’S FLIGHT AND RECAPTURE.

only partial, his pursuers close in his rear, and the noise of the
rustling leaves beneath his feet betraying every step, it will be
seen at once that he was in the most constant and imminent
danger.

Pausing but a few seconds—barely sufficient to catch his
“ second breath,” he again leaped away. There is no telling
how long he would have run, had he not stepped into a hole,
deep and narrow—the mouth of a fox’s burrow evidently, for
it was quite hidden by overgrowth—he fell into the hole with
a sudden violence which confused and stunned him. Panting
and exhausted, he lay still and ayyited his pursuers.

They were far closer than he imagined. He seemed scarcely
to have disappeared, when the whole four passed within a few
feet of him. How fearfully his heart throbbed as the foot of
one threw several leaves upon his person !

Leland had lain here less than five minutes, when a second
footstep startled him. It came from an entirely different di-
rection; and approaching to within about a dozen feet, it
halted. Rising to his hands and feet so that his head was
brought upon a level with the ground, he peered through the
darkness at the object. One long, earnest, scrutinizing look,
revealed the dress of a large Indian. His position was so fa-
yorable that he could even make out the rifle he held in his
hand. :

He stood as motionless as a statue for a moment, and
then gave utterance to a cry that resembled exactly that of
the whippowil. Receiving no response, lie repeated it again,
but with no better success than before. The cowering fugi-
tive was listening for the slightest movement upon his part,
when to his unfeigned amazement, the Indian in a suppressed
whisper called out, “ Leland !”

The young man, however, was not thrown off his guard.
He knew that every one of his captors spoke the English lan-
guage, some of them quite fluently. It need scarcely be said
that he made no response to the call, even when it was iter-
ated again and again. The savage during these utterances
did not stir a hand or foot, but seemed to bend all his facul-
ties into the one of listening, He had stood but a few
moments, when Leland caught the rustle of approaching
feet.

 

  
   

 
 

54 KENT, THE RANGER.

The Indian detected them at the same moment, and instantly
moved off, but with such a catlike tread that the young man
scarcely heard him at all. Ah! had he but known the iden-
tity of that strange Indian, and responded to his call, he would
have been saved !

It was scarcely a moment later when the whole four In-
dians came back:at a leisurely gait, and halted not more than
a rod from where Leland imagined he lay concealed. They
commenced conversing at once in broken English :

“White man got legs of deer—run fast,” said one.

“Yeh !—git away from*four Shummumdewumrum—run
much fast,” added another.

“Go back to camp—stay dere—won’t come among Shaw-
nee ag’in—don’t like him, tink.”

“He run much fast—mebbe fast as black man.”

At this point the whole four laughed immoderately, as if in
remembrance of the ludicrous figure of Zeb. Their mirth con-
tinued for several moments, when they sobered down and
renewed their conversation,

“Wait till daylight—den foller trail ?rough woods—Shum-
mumdewumrum git eye on it—soon cotch him.”

This Leland felt was now his great danger. Should his
pursuers return to their camp, he hoped the distance that he
thus gained upon them would be sufficient to carry him en-
tirely beyond theirreach; but if they decided to remain where
they were, his only chance was to steal away before the morn-
ing came. Judging such to be their intention, he determined
to make the attempt at once.

On his hands and knees he commenced crawling forward,
listening to every word that was uttered.

“White man try hard to git away—don’t like Shawnee
great much.”

“He run much fast, den fall down in woods |”

“ Den try to crawl away like snake !”

Leland saw that it was all over with him and gave up at
once. The Indians had been aware of his hiding-place from
the moment he fell, and their passage beyond it, their return
and their conversation, were all made on purpose to toy with
his fears, as a cat would play with a mouse before destroy-
ing it.

 
THE PURSUIT OF ZEB. 55

As one of the savages uttered the last words, he walked di-
rectly to the prostrate man, and ordered him to arise. Leland
judged it best to resist no further. He accordingly obeyed;
and, saddened and despairing, was led back a prisoner to the
Indian camp.

 

We have heard of a fish, known in the humble fisherman’s
parlance as the ink-fish, which, when pursued by an enemy,
has the power of tinging the water in its immediate vicinity
with such a dark color, that its pursuer is completely befogged
and gives up the hopeless chase in disgust.

A realizing sense of his recklessness and his imminent peril

came over Zeb when he felled the rising Shawnee to the
earth. It was his intention, in the first place, to serve every
one in the same manner; but as they came to their feet far
more rapidly than he anticipated, he gave over the idea, and,
with a “Ki! yi!” plunged headlong into the woods. At this
very juncture, the attention of the Indians was taken up with
Leland, as the more important captive of the two, and for a
moment the negro escaped notice; but the instant the four
started after him, two others gave Zeb their undivided atten-
tion. ‘
. The sable fugitive, with all his recklessness, did the very
best thing that could have been done under the circumstances.
Instead of fleeing, as did Leland, he ran less than a hundred
yards, when he halted abruptly and took a position behind a
sapling. Here he stood as motionless as death, while his
enemies came on. Whether his intensely black countenance
had the power of diffusing deeper darkness into the surround-
ing gloom, or whether it was the unexpected manner of his
flight that deluded his pursuers, we are unable to say. Cer-
tain it is that although the two savages passed very closely to
him, neither saw nor suspected his presence.

“ Gorra, but dat’s soothin’,” chuckled Zeb. “ Dey’ve missed
me dis time, shuah! Wonder whether dey’ll outlive dar dis-
app’intment, when dey finds out dat when dey finds me, dey
hain’t found me! Ki! yi!”

He maintained his motionless position for several moments
longer, all the while listening for his enemies. As their foot-
steps finally died out in the distance, and he realized that he

 
  

56 KENT, THE RANGER.

was left alone indeed, his former characteristic returned to
him.

“ What’s to be done, dat am de question !” said he, speaking
in an incautiously loud voice, as he spread out his left
hand at the same time, and rested the forefinger of his right
upon it. “In de fust place, I don’t know what has become
of Master Leland. If he’s done got away, how am I to find
him? IfTI sets up a yell to cotch his ear, like "nuff de oders
will hear it also likewise. Den if he hasn’t got away what
am de use ob bawlin’ to him. Guess I won’t bawl.”

So much was settled at least. The fact that it would not
only be a useless but an extremely dangerous undertaking to
make an outcry at that particular time, worked itself through
his head, and the intention was accordingly given over for the
present.

“One thing am sartin, howsumever,” he added. “I’m
hungry, and I know dar am some meat left by dat camp-fire,
dat would relish high jus’ now. But had I oughter to go dar
or not? Dey mought found me, but den ’m hungry.”

When our own personal feelings are put into the balance,
they are apt to outweigh the dictates of prudence and sense.
The experiences of the night, although fraught in their teach-
ings to the ignorant black man, had not as yet attained suffi-
cient dignity to stand before the animal feelings of his
nature.

Although he comprehended in a degree the risk he run, he
decided it was worth his while to do it, rather than suffer for
a few hours longer the cravings of what was only a moderate
degree of hunger.

“De stummich am de most importantest part ob man, and
consequently am de fust thing dat should receive his undi-
wided attention.”

‘With this philosophical conclusion, he turned his footsteps
toward the camp-fire. Despite its proximity, he experienced
considerable difficulty in finding it. The few smoldering
embers, gleaming like a demon’s eye, guided him, however, to
the spot. ,

“Dar am anoder matter sartin,” thought he, as he came up.
“Mr. Zebenezer Langdon is not agwine to be able to s’arch here
for de meat onless he has some more light—Ki! dat coal am

 

;
|
\
;

    
 
  

 

AGAIN IN CAPTIVITY. nO
warm !” he exclaimed, as he hopped off from the fiery end of
a fagot.

It required but a few moments to gather sufficient fuel to
replenish the fire. The hot coals set the wood almost
immediately into a roaring blaze, which threw a warm, rich
light through the surrounding woods for many yards
around,

Zeb was radiant with smiles. The cool night and the con-
strained position had chilled him considerably, and he gaye
the fire a few moments to infuse the comfortable warmth into
his person.

“Now Pll jes’ warm up my hands like,” said he, after a
few minutes, “and den I’ll go to work;” and forthwith he
held them toward the blaze, rubbing and turning them into
each other with great zest and enjoyment.

“ Dar, I guess dat’ll do. Now Pll make a s’arch—Gorra!
whar did yow come from ?”

As the negro turned, he found himself standing face to
face with the two Shawnees who had started in his pursuit
but a short time before! He realized that he was recap-
tured, and made no resistance. He was instantly re-bound to
the very tree from which he had escaped, while the Indians
sat upon the ground very near him, firmly resolved that he
should not again have so favorable an opportunity to leave
them.

The negro was hardly secured, when the other savages
made their appearance with Leland. He was also fastened
to the identical tree from which he had been loosened;
and there, sad, gloomy and despairing, he was left until
morning.

 

  
 

58 KENT, THE RANGER.

CHAPTER XI.
A FRIEND.

In a short time the whole body of Indians were awake
and astir. The morning meal was soon prepared and
hastily eaten, and they set forward. Leland found that his
wound was much better, and he traveled without difficulty.
The savages took a southerly direction, and appeared to be
journeying toward the destination of those who held Rosa-
lind.

Their march continued without interruption until noon,
when they halted for a couple of hours for rest and food.
For the first time, George partook of some, and felt in a
more hopeful frame of mind. Zeb was as usual, and contin-
ued quarreling with and abusing and threatening every one
within his reach.

“Tf dis isn’t shameful, treating a pusson like me in dis
way. I’s sorry dat I ever come wid you. I’spects ebery
bone in my body is broke in pieces.”

“You said last night that they dare not touch you,” inter-
rupted Leland.

“Well, dat’s a subject dat you can’t understand, and I
hayen’t time to ’splain it. Dey’re perwoken, anyhow, and
dey’s agwine to cotch dar pay some ob dese days.”

Consoled with this reflection, Zeb kept steadily upon his
way, seemingly as happy as a person could be when laboring
under a slight provocation. No further words passed between
him and Leland for a considerable time. The latter was
busy with his own thoughts, and began to feel the fatigues of
their long-continued journey. They had set out at an early
hour, and had halted only at noon. The traveling was very
difficult at times, often leading through tangled underwood
and swamps, where a person’s weight bore him deep into the
mire; and now and then some sluggish, "poisonous serpent
crawled from beneath their feet, or hissed at them from some
> decayed tree.

About the middle of the afternoon they paused upon the
ZEB’S OBSTINACY. 59

banks of a stream of considerable size, which was a tributary
to the Big Sandy. Though broad, it was not deep, and
could be easily forded. The water flowed quite swiftly, and
being perfectly translucent, the bottom could be seen from
either shore.

Here the Indians exhibited their usual cunning and fore-
sight. During their journey, they had proceeded in “ Indian
file,” permitting their prisoners, however, to walk after their
usual manner. The reason for their adopting the caution
mentioned with themselves, was more from habit than any
thing else. Although suspecting they might be pursued, yet
they had little fear of an enemy, and omitted, as we have
seen, to employ a sentinel at night.

One of the savages stepped into the water, and, taking a
few steps, was followed by another, who placed his feet upon
the stones, in the tracks that he had used and made. Thus
each one did until Leland and Zeb were driven in and warned
to do likewise. The former had no difficulty in obeying, but
the latter, either through mistake or design, made several
- provoking blunders. He seemed to use his utmost endeavors
to step into the tracks of those before him, but instead of
succeeding, was sure to place his foot a good distance from it;
and losing his foothold when about in the center of the stream,
came down with an awkward splash into the water.

“Gorra!” he exclaimed, regaining his position, “dat fish
pulled awful.” The savages nearest cast threatening looks
toward him, and ge reached the shore without further mishap.

At about sundown the party came to a halt, and a fire was
started. Leland and Zeb found themselves in the same con-
dition as upon the preceding night, with the exception that a
closer surveillance was kept upon their actions. George par-
took sparingly of supper, while Zeb’s appetite was as insatiate
as ever. A guard was stationed as soon as it was fully dark,
and the Indians appeared disposed to amuse and enjoy them-
selves until a late hour. One of their number, with a hoarse,
guttural “ Ugh !” approached the negro.

“You needn’t come here,” ejaculated Zeb, divining his in-
tention. The savage paid no attention to him, but continued
approaching. Had the negro been free, he might have offered
resistance and occasioned considerable trouble; but besides

 
 

60 KENT, THE RANGER.

having his arms bound, his legs were joined at the ankles,
and he was thus rendered helpless.

“ Plenty wool,” said the savage, placing his hand upon his
head. He made no answer, but glanced furtively and sus-
piciously at him. ‘‘ Nice, good,” he added; then closing his
hand, gave a vigorous jerk.

“Lord help me!’ screamed Zeb, rolling over in helpless
agony.

“Poor fellow,” repeated the Indian, approaching him and
rubbing his back, after the manner which a celebrated horse-
tamer advises. Then, watching his opportunity, he seized
another quantity and pulled it forth. To his surprise, this
elicited no remark from his victim, and he repeated it.

This time he succeeded no better than before.

Zeb was lying upon his back and staring at his tormentor
in unspeakable fury. The Indian, still determined upon
amusement, again approached. Zeb remained motionless until
he stooped over him; then bending his knees to his chin, he
gathered all his strength, and planted both feet in his chest,
throwing him a dozen feet. The savage groaned and doubled
up in his agony, and gasped spasmodically for breath.

“Dar, how does dat set on your stummich? Yah! yah!
dat’s fun !”

Although this for the moment amused the others, yet it
likewise excited their anger, and there is no telling what the
end would have been, had not their attention been suddenly
called in another direction. This was occasioned by the
arrival of a stranger among them. .

Leland gazed at the new-comer, and saw a tall, powerfully-
built and well-shaped savage stalk boldly forward toward the
fire, and exchange salutations with those seated around. All
regarded him suspiciously at first, yet his boldness and assur-
ance seemed to disarm them, and room was made for him.
The pipe was passed to him, and taking it, he smoked several
minutes in silence, during which time he seemed unconscious
that the eye of every one was bent upon him. Having fin-
ished, he turned and passed it to the one nearest him, then
gazing thoughtfully for a few moments in the fire, commenced
a conversation with the chief. He spoke their tongue as cor-

rectly and fluently as any of them, which served to disarm
LELAND’S SUFFERINGS. 61

them still more. He stated that he had been out with a
couple of Indians, scouring the country for prey, when they
were set upon and pursued by two hunters, who at the first
shot killed his companion. He succeeded in effecting his es-
cape after a hot pursuit of nearly a day, and encountering a
trail which he supposed to be his friends’, he followed it up
and found that he was not mistaken.

On hearing this recital, several of the savages appeared to
suspect that Kent and Leland were the two to whom he re-
ferred, and directed his attention toward their captives. The
savage stared wonderingly toward them for a moment, and
slowly shook his head. He had never seen either before.

Although none of the Indians could show any reason for
suspecting their visitor, except his strange arrival among them,
still they were not reckless and foolish enough to leave him to
himself, or to permit him to depart. Besides the two who
were stationed at a distance as sentinels, one remained awake
to keep an eye upon his movements. Yet this precaution was
useless; for to all appearances, he slept as deeply as any of
them, and was among the latest who awoke in the morning.

Leland fell asleep about midnight, and gained a few hours
of undisturbed rest. In the morning he was considerably
refreshed, and had it not been for the awful doom that threat-
ened him, would have possessed a joyous fund of spirits. His
wound, which had been only an ugly flesh one, had ceased to
trouble him, and he experienced no pain except from the lig-
aments that bound him. As he increased in strength, these
were increased in number and tightness, until his limbs swelled
and pained him more than his hurt.

It is the same with the body as with the mind. The sorest
affliction that can visit us will not occasion half the murmuring
and discontent that the petty annoyances and grievances of
every-day life. Could the pain which harassed Leland, and
in the end nearly drove him frantic, have been concentrated
into a few moments, or even into a half-hour, he could have
borne it without a murmur; but it was the continual, never-
ceasing, monotonous length of it that troubled him.

Several times in the course of their journey, Leland was
upon the point of beseeching his enemies to kill him at once,
and end his misery; and had he reason to believe that they

 

 
 

  

62 KENT, THE RANGER.

would have gratified him, he would not have hesitated a mo-
ment; but such a request would have been useless.

At noon, as usual, the party came to a halt, and a couple
proceeded to bind Leland to a tree. During the proceeding
he broke the cords that pained him so much, and they were
replaced by others. The latter, however, were much more
lax, and he felt greatly relieved when they were placed upon
him.

As soon as he was secured to the body of the tree, the
savage left him and joined his companions. Leland closed
his eyes as if to shut out the terrible reality, and the dancing
lights that flickered before him, together with the hum that
filled his ears, told him that for a moment he had succeeded.
But he was soon recalled to a sense of his situation by the zip
of a tomahawk within a few inches of his head. Opening his
eyes, he soon comprehended the state of things. The savages
were amusing themselves by ascertaining who could send his
tomahawk nearest the body of their captive without touching
him. The first weapon that had been sent had missed his
head, as we have said, by a fewinches; but the next was still
closer, and Leland felt the wind of it, as it buried itself in the
solid oak by his cheek. He again closed his eyes, and fer-
vently prayed that one of their hatchets might sink into his
skull instead of the tree; yet there was not much danger of
such an occurrence; for the savages exercised perfect skill,
and rarely failed of sending their weapons to the very point
intended. .

Leland opened his eyes as a tomahawk came fearfully close
to his forehead. He wished to see who had hurled it. He
soon saw that it was the strange Indian, who was approach-
ing to withdraw it. It was buried deeper than the others;
and as the savage placed his hand upon it, it required consid-
erable of an effort to extricate it. While doing so, Leland
heard the following words whispered by the stranger :

“Don’t be scart, George; it’s Kent Whiteman that has got
his eye upon you.”

These words came near proving fatal to both. They so
startled Leland that he could not prevent himself from betray-
ing somewhat his emotion and excitement. This was observed
by a savage near at hand, who approached to satisfy himself

 

  
A TRIAL OF SKILL. 63

of: the cause. Leland, suspecting his motive, repeated the
action and accompanied it by a shudder, as though the scene
which was being enacted had overcome him. This satisfied
the wily Indian, who retreated and joined the others.

Hope was again awakened in Leland’s breast—painful hope,
that increased his doubts and fears—hope that drowned the
torture that beset him—hope that sent the life-blood coursing
rapidly and hotly through his veins, and increased the charms
which life had held out to him. f

Leland was shortly released from his unenviable situation,
and Zeb put in his place. The negro made no threats or
declaration, but submitted to the trying ordeal without a word.
The scenes through which he had passed had evidently had
some effect upon him. He seemed to possess a faint realiza-
tion of the danger in which he and his companion were
placed. And yet it could not be said that he was really
frightened, for he evinced no fear of any of his enemies, and
his silence had the appearance of-being occasioned by sullen-
ness and apathy. He did not tremble in the least, but gazed
unflinchingly at the tomahawks, as they came revolving and
seemingly directed toward his head, and struck beside him.

Finding that they had about lost their power over their
captives, the Indians released Zeb, and permitted him and his
master to lie down upon the ground.

Leland could not prevent his gaze from wandering toward
Kent now and then, yet their eyes did not meet. The latter
betrayed no interest whatever in either of the captives, and
seemed as indifferent to their fate as any of the others.

The negro had no suspicion of the true state of things, and
perhaps it was the best that he had not. He might have un-
wittingly betrayed it, and Kent did not choose to warn him.
The fact was, it could have done him but little good at any
rate; for Kent had determined to rescue Leland, if possible,
and leave Zeb for the present to shift for himself. The white
man was the first upon whom they would wreak their ven-
geance, and aside from the greater estimation in which his
life was held, from the very nature of the case, he required
the first attention.

 
 

o4 KENT, THE RANGER.

CHAPTER XII.
ESCAPE,

Tae hunter in the course of the day had gained a full
knowledge of the intentions of the Indians in regard to their
captives. Leland was to suffer death at the stake at an early
period, while the negro was to be reserved until some indefi-
nite time in the future, to be tortured.

The hunter had completely succeeded in disarming his ene-
mies of every suspicion. He had employed himself, as we
have seen, in throwing his tomahawk at Leland; and learning
through a casual remark that he was to be put to the torture,
he expressed his opinion stronyly in favor of it, urging them
at the same time to do it as soon as possible. He made himself
perfectly at home, and was so free among them, that a stranger
would have considered him one of the leading characters.

So perfectly had Kent dissenxbled, that at night, unexpect-
edly to himself, he was chosen as one to watch Leland. The
negro was firmly fastened to a tree and left to himself, while
George was to sleep between two savages.

At supper-time Kent brought him a good-sized piece of
well-cooked meat, and gave him to understand that he was to
eat it at all events. Leland took it without daring to meet
his benefactor’s eye, and ate all that was possible. The negro
received his meal from the same hand without the remotest
suspicion that a friend was so near him, and even went so far
as to insult him as much as was in his power, for not bring-
ing him a larger quantity of food. To carry out still further
the appearance of things, Kent tore a small tuft from the ne-
gro’s head, as if to revenge himself.

“Blast you,’ he shouted, “if I doesn’t flog you till you
can’t stand. Just hold out your paw a minute.”

Zeb used his utmost powers of persuasion to induce Kent
to reach his hand toward him, hoping to revenge himself as
he had upon a former occasion; but the hunter was too
shrewd for him, and with a threatening gesture, left him to
himself, and joined his companions.
ASSISTANCE AT HAND. 65

“ Gorra!” said Zeb to Leland, “ if I doesn’t believe dat dat’s
de nigger I sawed up in de barn toder day.”

“You mean cut up?”

“ All de same; leastways ef ’tis him, he’s cotched his pay
afore he come sneakin’ about here.”

Now that Leland knew assistance was at hand, he expe-
rienced a desire to converse with the negro, and thus help to
pass away time, which had grown intolerably monotonous.
Turning to the old slave, he resumed :

“He is a savage-looking individual.”

This was said in order to quell any suspicion or doubt that
might have entered his head.

“Dat he is; but he’d better keep away from me, if he
doesn’t want his picter sp’iled,” returned the negro.

“ What were you abusing him for, a few minutes ago, when
he brought your food ?”

“Well, you see, he’s afraid I’s agwine to hurt him, and
begun to beg off. It makes me so mad to see any feller afraid
dat I let out on him, and he took himself off in a mighty big
hurry.”

“ Have you lost much of your wool 2”

“Two or free hands full; dat’s all. ’Bout all growed in
ag’in; but I ca’culate dat de next dat gits his hand in my head
Il get it in a steel-trap. IfI gits my grinder on’im he'll see,”
said Zeb, with a meaning shake of his head.

“T guess that they will nct trouble you further for the pres-
ent,” added Leland, with that air of assurance which one feels
for the safety of another when his own case is free from
danger.

“Don’t know "bout dat, but I'd like to have ’em try.”

“Well, your wish is about to be gratified,” said Leland, as
he noticed a sayage approaching him.

“ Gorra, don’t come here!” said Zeb, staring at him. The
savage did not heed his warning, however, but continued to
adyance, and made a motion as if to strike him. The black
man closed his eyes, bent his head toward him and drew his
face in all manner of furious contortions. The savage, how-
ever, left him without provoking him further.

Leland was allowed to remain in his position until the sav-
ages stretched themselves out to rest. They remained up

59 3

 
 

   

66 KENT, THE RANGER.

later than usual, smoking and recounting their deeds and
boasting of the exploits they intended to accomplish. Kent
narrated some marvelous stories, which greatly excited their
wonder and admiration of him.

The time thus occupied seemed interminable to Leland, who
was in a fever of excitement and anxiety; but at last Kent
stretched himself beside him, while the other watch did the
same upon the opposite side.

Still it would probably be hours before any thing could be
done, and Leland was compelled to suffer the most intense and
anxious impatience for a long time. His thoughts prevented
him from feeling the least desire to sleep, and he could only
worry and writhe in his helpless position.

Kent, in arranging a place for himself beside him, wat
his head to his ear and breathed :

“Pretend to sleep.”

Although this was said in less than a whisper, Leland
heard the words distinctly and prepared to follow the warning.
To prevent the slightest suspicion, he continued to groan and
move for some minutes; but he gradually ceased, and after a
while settled down into a state of rest. Soon his heavy, reg-
ular breathing would have led any one into the belief that a
heavy sleep was upon him. Not the slightest voluntary mo-
tion was made, and Kent remarked to his brother sentinel
that their captive must be unconscious of the doom that
awaited him.

A cord was fastened to Leland’s wrist and then to Kent's
arm, so that the slightest movement upon the part of the
former would disturb and awake the latter should he fall
asleep. The other watch, noticing this, failed to adopt the
game precaution.

For a few more minutes the savage held a conversation with
Kent; but in the course of a half-hour the answers of the
latter began to grow brief and indistinct, and finally ceased
altogether ; then he began to breathe more slowly and heavily,
and the savage at last believed that both guard and prisoner
were sound asleep. .

When lying upon the earth at night, with no one with
whom a conversation can be held, and with nothing but the
will to combat the approach of sleep, the person is almost

  
   
 

   

LELAND AGAIN ESCAPES. 67

gure to succumb sooner or later. At any rate, such was the
case With the savage in question, and scarce an hour had
elapsed since he had ceased speaking when he was as uncon-
scious of the state of things around as though he had never
been born. ;

Now was the time to commence operations; the critical
moment had arrived, and Kent commenced the work upou
which probably more than one life depended.

First he withdrew his knife from his belt, and severed the
cord that bound him to Leland. Then as cautiously, silently
and quickly, cut the thong that held his feet. This was the
first intimation Leland had that his friend was at work.

Leland’s hands, as we have said, were bound behind; conse-
quently it was necessary that he should turn upon his side in
erder that Kent might reach them. He knew this and made
the movement; but his excitement and agitation were so
great that he turned too far, and in recovering himself, awoke
the savage. His presence of mind and Kent’s cunning saved
him. He groaned deeply and muttered to himself, while the
hunter started up as though he had just awoke, and gazed
wonderingly at him.

“I wish he’d keep still,’ said he, in the Indian tongue, ly-
ing down again. This satisfied the other, who fell back and
closed his eyes.

For an hour neither stirred. At the end of that time, Kent
raised his head and gazed cautiously around upon the circle
of sleeping savages. Zeb was at a short distance, resting as
calmly as an infant upon its mother’s breast. The one beside
Leland had again passed off to the land of dreams; yet an
Indian never sleeps soundly, and the slightest mishap upon
the part of those who were awake and expecting to move,
might arouse the whole body and bring certain and instant
death upon them. It would not do to awaken the sleeping
sentinel again. Life now hung upon a thread.

Kent reached beneath Leland and cut the cord. He was
now free and at liberty to move.

“Be careful!” whispered the hunter, as he assisted him to
his feet. Leland could not suppress his agitation, yet he used
all the caution in his power. But cautious as they both were,
the sayage nearest them awoke, Kent had his eye upor him,

 
 

68 KENT, THE RANGER.

and the instant he stirred, sprung like a panther toward him.
One hand clutched his mouth, his knee pressed heavily upon
his breast, and whipping out his knife, he forced it to the hilt
in his body. Nothing but the dull, fleshy sound, as it sunk
into the seat of life, was heard. The bloody stream silently
followed its withdrawal, there were several spasmodic strug-
gles, and the savage straightened out in death.

Kent arose from the body and motioned to Leland to fol-
low him. Not another being was awake, and tremblingly he
followed over their prostrate, sleeping forms. They were just
passing into the thick surrounding darkness, when the negro,
through some means, awoke.

“Gorra,” he shouted, “isn’t you gwine to help dis pusson too ?”

“Cuss that nigger,” muttered the hunter. “ Keep close to
me and use your pegs, fur a long run’s before us.”

Both darted away together, as the wild yells told them that
their escape was discovered. Those horrid, unearthly whoops,
of which no idea can be had unless they be heard, set Le-
land’s blood on fire. In a moment the whole forest seemed
swarming with their enemies, and the yells of many were
fearfully near. Kent could distance any of them when alone,
yet the presence of Leland retarded him somewhat. How-
ever, by taking the latter's hand, they both passed over the
ground with great swiftness, and neither had much fear of
being overtaken.

On, on plunged the pursued, until many a mile had been
passed ; still they halted not. The voices and answering
shouts of the savages could be heard upon every side, and
they had yet by no means reached a place of safety. Now
some limb brushed in Leland’s face, or he stumbled over some
fallen tree, and then, without a murmur, arose and pursued
his way. On, on they hurried, until the dispersing darkness
told them that the day was not far distant.

“TJ can travel no further,” said Leland, sinking to the earth.

“ Give out ?” queried Kent.

“T believe I have. This is a terrible chase; but the pros-
pect of a recapture and death can not goad me further, until
I have rested.”

“Wal, no mistake we have tramped some ; but Lord save
you, this is just fun for me.”
 

  

THE HUNT FOR LESLIE. 69

“Do you not think that they will abandon pursuit ?”

“No danger of that. As soon as ’tis light they'll pounce
upon our trail, and foller it until it’s lost or we are cotched.”

“Which must not be.”

“Wal, p’raps if they get their claws on you you wouldn't
feel very comfortable.”

But they had passed through the most trying ordeals, and
had now only to make their way as best they could. Kent
had some idea of the nature of the ground, and they progressed
with greater ease and rapidity, after a short rest.

“Here we are,” said the hunter, coming to a halt. Leland
gazed ahead, and saw a broad sheet of water which he knew
must be the Ohio.

“And now,” added Kent, “sve’ve got to hunt up Leslie.
He can’t be far off, and I’m in hopes we'll stumble upon him
afore day. Just squat and make yourself miserable while I
take a run up and down the bank.”

Leland obeyed him, and in a moment was left alone, shiy-
ering in the chilly night-air, and feeling miserable indeed in
his lonely situation. But he was not disposed to murmur; he
had escaped death—that was enough.

In the course of an hour Kent returned with the informa-
tion that he had found the boat about half a mile up, but that
Leslie was not in it. Both started, and, after stumbling over
bushes loaded with water, and sinking into the miry shore,
and wading in the river by turns, they came upon it, pulled
high up on the bank. It was becoming lighter every moment,
and as Kent knew that as soon as possible their trail would
be followed, he was unwilling to brook the slightest delay.

“ As soon as one is out the scrape another gets in. Here
you have got clear, and now he must go and make a fool of
himself If he’s got taken, that’s the meanest trick yet.”
~ “Perhaps he is not far off,” said Leland, stepping in the
boat and searching it. “He is not here, certainly,” he added,
after looking over it.

“Tl wait awhile, and then we must look out for ourselves.
No use of losing our own hair in tryin’ to help him,” rejoined
Kent.

Both took the boat, and turning it over so as to free it from
water, shoved it out from the beach.

 

  

 
   

  

70 KENT, THE RANGER.

“ Falloa, Leslie! If you’re about just say so, and if you
ain’t, let us know,” shouted Kent, in a loud voice.

A silence of a few moments followed, when he repeated the
call. To the surprise of both it was answered.

“That you, Kent?” came a voice as if its owner had just
waked.

“Wal, I rather guess so; and it’s my private opinion that
you'd better tumble yourself in here in short order,” returned
Kent. ‘

A dark form arose to all appearance from the ground, and
pitching awkwardly forward, exclaimed .

“You don’t suppose a fellow would be in the boat through
all that rain, do you? Oh! is Leland there?’ he asked,
pausing and collecting his senses.

“No! Poor fellow’s scalped and burned at the stake.
Had to kill nine of them to-‘save my own hair.”

Leslie made no reply, but stepped silently into the boat.
Making his way toward the stern, he encountered the very
person of whom he had been speaking. .

“Hey! who is this ?” he exclaimed, starting back.

“A dead red-skin that I cotched,” answered Kent.

“ Leland, sure as I live!” said Leslie, joyously catching his
hand.

For a few moments they heeded not the mirth of Kent at
his joke, in their mutual congratulations. Then they turned
and heard him say :

“What a couple of fools.”

They appreciated his rough kindness too well to make any
reply. The boat was out in the river, and under the long,
powerful impulses that the hunter gave it, was moving rapidly
downward.

 
A CONSULTATION. A;

CHAPTER XIII.
THE CAPTIVE.

Letanp and Leslie conversed and recounted to each other
their adventures until those were exhausted, when they en-
deavored to keep off the chill by taking turns at the oars.
Morning at length began to appear. In a short time darkness
lifted from the water, and the bright rays of the morning sun
pierced the foliage of the forest and rested upon the stream.

About the middle of the forenoon, Kent ran in under the
bank and sprung ashore. The day was quite warm, and it
was a pleasure for the three to step upon the land and stretch
themselves in the genial sunshine. They had, however,
halted for consultation, and to determine upon the plan to
pursue in order to rescue Rosalind.

“One more job finished and we'll rest awhile,” said Kent.

“And as we have depended upon and been guided and
saved by your wisdom,” said Leslie, “ of course, in this most
important case your advice must be followed.”

“Let’s hear what you chaps have got to say first, ’cause
paps you might accidentally say somethin’ smart without
knowin’ it. Tl decide it after we all get through.”

“What seems to me the most feasible is this,” commenced
Leland. “ Lei all three of us follow the savages which have
taken my sister, and after reaching their vicinity, by stratagem
recover her. If it be impossible to do it in this way, make a
bold dash and venture among them, and take her at all events.”

“ Killin’ first "bout one hundred Injins, just to get ’em out
the way, you know,” said Kent, with mock gravity. “Come,
Leslie, it’s your turn; and bein’ you’re so much interested, I
‘spects to hear somethin’ awful grand.”

Leslie, to save his life, could not prevent a blush at this
allusion. As might be expected, he had thought of more than
one plan, long before asked for it, and replied without hesita-
tion:

“ What I say is, resewe her at all events, as George has said.
Of course, it’s out of the question to do it by force, and we

 
 

12 KENT, THE RANGER.

must outwit the savages. This I think possible, for the good
reason that it has so often been done. All three of us, or
perhaps, what would be better, you and myself can follow
them up and retake her. George, in his present state, could
do but little to aid us, and in all probability, will endanger
the safety of all concerned.”

“T agrees with you there; and a little further. Mr. Leslie,
‘in his present state, would do but little to aid us, and in all
probability, endanger the safety of all concerned.”

“There is no need of jesting, Kent. You know that it
would be the best for you to have a companion, and who can
you take but me ?”

“Don’t know but what it would. Now, s’posen an old
feller that don’t know nothin’ says somethin’ ?” said Kent,
good-humoredly ; for he, as is generally the case with those
of his class, had a habit of depreciating his own sagacity and
foresight, when he really knew how much superior it was to
his companion’s.

“Don’t know but what it would,” he repeated. “S’pose
if Ps in your case, I’d feel the same; but you see, there’s
somethin’ else to think of. S’posen we gets her, we hain’t got
any place to stick our heads in, and may be hunted forever
after by the skunks. Now as soon as convenient, we'll pad-
dle down to the place where Leland’s house was burned, and
drop him there; fur it won't do to take you ‘long, George.
Leslie understands the Injins better than you, and it would
just git us all into a muss, and like enough, make ’em knoch
her on the head, to save trouble. We'll take you up to your
farm ’cAuse that'll be a place we can’t miss very well; and if
there’s a shed or any thing left, you can stow yourself away
till we gets back. Keep a good look-out, and don’t get into
any trouble. I'll take Leslie along, for I s’pose he won’t stay,
and [ve thought of a plan that’ll take him to work with.
There, you have my plan.” 5

“Which you must admit, is the one that must be followed,”
said Leslie, turning toward Leland.

“TJ suppose,’ he returned, “that your advice should be
taken, although I confess that I had hoped to accompany
you; but as I said, Kent knows best, and the only proper
course is to obey him.”
PREPARATIONS TO RESCUE ROSALIND. 3

“ Well, let us not wait, now that we have decided what to
do,” said Leslie, rising to his feet.

“No; we ought to be movin’, fur I opine we've a good
tramp afore us.”

Again the boat was shoved out, and shot onward. Nothing
worthy of mention occurred om the way. The next day, at
noon, they reached their destination. Leland’s heart sunk
within him, as he gazed up from the river and saw, where
once his home had been, nothing but black and charred ruins.
A portion of what had once been used as the barn remained
entire, having escaped the flames.

e “This is just the thing,” said Kent, approaching it. “ We'll
fix it up a little and I'd advise you to go to sleep, and stay so
until we get back.”

The three set vigorously to work, and in a short time they
had made it quite comfortable. It consisted of logs placed
firmly and compactly together, and secured so that a single
person well armed could offer effectual resistance to a formid-
able enemy. Being in a sort of clearing, it had the additional
advantage of affording its inhabitant such a view that he could
not be approached by any person without their being observed
and thus giving him time to prepare for them.

“There !” said the hunter, retreating a short distance and
gazing at it. “TI wouldn’t ax a better place. You might
bring down a hundred Injins, and give me plenty powder and
ball, I'd have the best fun in creation.”

“Suppose they come upon all sides?” suggested Leland.

“All you got to do is to take the stock off your gun and
shoot out of both ends of the barrel.”

“You can go now as soon as you please; but first tell me
what time to expect you back.”

Kent folded both arms over the muzzle of his gun, and
shutting one eye, remained for a few moments buried in earn-
est thought. Then he replied:

“ Between five and eight days; probably on the sixth.”

* All ready ?” queried Leslie.

* All ready,” returned Kent.

Both bade Leland good-by, and after a few unimportant
words, started upon their journey. Leslie felt a wild, joyous
thrill as he realized that he was really nearing Rosalind ; that

 
 

74 KENT, THE RANGER.

in a short time, as he firmly believed, he should see and be
able to assist her to procure her liberty. He could hardly
restrain his impatience, but vainly urged Kent to quicken his
thoughtful, lagging steps. The sun had set, and darkness
was slowly spreading over the great forest, when the two
plunged into its depths and ventured upon their perilous,
doubtful undertaking.

For a considerable time we have left Rosalind to herself,
and with the reader’s permission we will now return to her.

The Indians which held her, as was stated, journeyed far
into the interior of Kentucky before making a final halt.
Here they reached the village or head-quarters of their tribe,
and gave her to understand that her journey was at an end.

The village numbered several hundred, and considering her
defenseless position, the savages allowed her considerable
liberty. From the first, however, she was made a slave and
a drudge, and compelled to toil with the hardy squaws of
their tribe, bearing their insults and sometimes even their
blows. The hope and prospect of a speedy relief and deliy-
erance enabled her to bear this without murmuring. She had
not much fear of death, as she judged by their actions that
their intention was to make her a prisoner for life.

There is nothing in the animal creation but which is af-
fected by kindness and obedience, and there is no race upon
which it makes a more ready impression than the American.
Rosalind’s continual gentleness and pleasing manner melted
the hearts of many of the warriors, and more than one rude
epithet was restrained by the meek loveliness of her face.

Yet she was sometimes in greater danger than she ever
dreamed. All did not act and feel thus toward her; more
than one voice demanded her blood, and while she lay quietly
dreaming of some loved one, there was many an angry dis-
cussion over her life. Deadly, baleful glances were given her,
when in her musings she was unconscious of the notice of
any one; and among the entire female portion there was not
a squaw but what regarded her with feelings of jealousy and
hatred. Had she remained a month, at the end of that time
her life would no doubt have been sacrificed. To quiet the
continual broiling and angry feelings, the Indians would have
acted as they did in nearly a similar case some years before ;

 
A
ROSALIND’S SITUA'TION. %

she would have been tomahawked, as was the young Miss
McCrea. ‘

Rosalind often wondered who the person could be that had
interrupted her conversation with Zeb upon the first night of
her captivity. One day she was gratified with the knowledge.
A savage approached her and commenced a conversation :

“How is the pale-faced maiden ?”

She started at hearing her tongue spoken so well, and look-
ing up recognized a middle-aged Indian, that had frequently
visited her house during her father’s life. She replied:

“Very well.”

The savage was uneasy, and waited a few moments for her
to speak further, but as she evinced no disposition to do so,
he at length added:

“Does the maiden remember Pequanon ?”

“She does,” she returned, looking him steadily in the face.
“She remembers him as one who received kindness both from
her father's hand and her own, and as one who shows his
gratitude by treacherously burning her home, and carrying
her into captivity. Yes, Pequanon,” she continued, bursting
into tears at the remembrance of the event, “she remembers
you and can never forget your conduct.”

“ Pequanon saved your life,” he returned, feelingly.

“And gave me a fate that is worse.”

“He went with his brothers when they burned your home,
but he did not help. He went to save your life, and did do
it. When the tomahawk was lifted over your head, he caught
the arm and turned it aside. When your blood was called
for, Pequanon swore that it should not be had, and he has
kept his word. Pequanon never forgets kindness, and will
die for the maiden that clothed and fed him.”

Rosalind felt her heart moved with pity toward the poor,
untutored savage who had thus really been grateful, and no
doubt had done all in his power for-her good. She recalled
many instances where she believed that he was the cause of
the lenity upon the part of the captors, and where it seemed
that some one had shown an interest in her welfare. She
informed him that she believed he had done her all the good
that was in his power, and expressed her heartfelt thanks for
it. The Indian seemed gratified beyond measure, and after

 
  

7 KENT, THE RANGER.

further conversation took his departure, promising eternal
fidelity to her.

This circumstance, though trivial in itself, had a great in-
fluence upon Rosalind. It gaye her a knowledge of the true
position in which she stood. Although she doubted not but
that she had friends among the savage beings around her, yet
she well knew that there were many deadly enemies, who,
when an opportunity offered, would not hesitate to take her
life. Every night when she lay down, it was with the prayer
that her life might be preserved until morning, and that, were
it in the power of her friends to rescue her, they woulé do it
speedily.

The lodge in which she slept was that of the chief. Besides
his own wife, several squaws remained in it during the night.
A young woman, her most bitter and hateful enemy, slept
beside Rosalind most of the time, and the slightest movement
on the part of the latter was sure to occasion some insulting

word or command from her. She bore this without a word,

hoping each night that it was the last she was to spend in
this manner.

One night she suddenly awoke to a full state of conscious-
ness—so suddenly that it startled and alarmed her. It seemed
as though something had awakened her, and yet she could
recall nothing. She turned her head and gazed at her com-
panion, but she, to all appearances, was sound asleep, and
could not have been the cause. She experienced no more of
drowsiness or inclination to sleep, but concluded to feign it
in the hope of satisfying herself of any danger that might be
lurking near her.

She half closed her eyes, yet kept a close watch of every
thing around her. In a moment there was a rustling upon
the outside; the next instant the point of a knife protruded
through a gap in the skin of the lodge, and two eyes were
seen gleaming like a tiger’s; then the hand that held the
knife was thrust forward, and it was held over her.

Rosalind tried to scream, but could not uttera sound. She
seemed frozen with terror, and only made a spasmodic move-
ment that awoke her companion. As soon as the latter
moved, the hand was withdrawn and the rent closed of its
own accord.

 

    
   

 

ROSALIND’S INDIAN FRIEND. MW

 

“Oh!” she murmured, “ did you see it ?”

Her companion, more angered on account of being awak-
ened from her sleep, struck her a blow and commanded
silence; but Rosalind could not remain in her position, and
arising and stepping softly over the sleeping form beside her,
seated herself in the center of the lodge. Here she remained
until morning, when she made the inmates understand the
nature of her nocturnal fright. All treated it lightly, and she
began to entertain a suspicion that they knew more of it than
she did herself.

In the course of the day she narrated the circumstance to
Pequanon, showing him also the aperture that had been made
in the lodge. He examined it carefully, and appeared trou-
bled about it) The marks of a person’s knee and moccasin
could be seen upon the soft earth, and there was no doubt
that her life had been sought. Pequanon informed her of
something that surprised and alarmed her as much as this.
Several of the warriors, since her first appearance among
them, had shown a desire to obtain Rosalind for a wife; and
although it may seem strange that she herself was not aware
of the fact, Pequanon had noticed it from the commencement,
and now for the first time warned her of it. One who sus-
pected that he should be disappointed, had taken the means
to procure the revenge that we have mentioned. Ever after
this Pequanon remained in the lodge during the night, and
Rosalind was careful to keep at a safe distance from the sides
of it.

She saw in the fact that he had given her, the cause of the
hatred upon the part of the females toward her. They had.
seen the fayor with which she was regarded by numbers of
the warriors, and were filled with jealousy at it. From them
she had as much to fear as from the Indians who wished to
obtain her.

  

  
   

CHAPTER XIV.
THE RESCUE.

RosaLIND was a good distance from the Ohio, and conse-
quently a long way was to be traveled by Kent and Leslie.
During the first night of their journey, a bright moon favored
them, and they continued on without halting until morning.
The hunter struck the trail at an early hour in the day, and
the two continued their pursuit with renewed ardor until the
sun was high in the heavens, when they halted for rest.

When they finally halted, it was on the banks of Big
Sandy, at the point where the West Fork unites with it.
Here they discovered signs of the encampment of a large
body of Indians. Leslie felt hope increase, and was impa-
tient to pursue their way. They judged it best—or rather
Kent judged it best—to remain in their present position, and
follow the trail only during the day.

The hunter left Leslie in order to search for game, as they
both were exceedingly hungry. He returned in a short time,
to the surprise of Leslie, who had not heard the report of his
gun. Kent informed him that he had slain it without firing
a shot, as he dared not to risk one. A fire was started, it
being concealed by the river-bank as much as possible, and
their food was cooked. This finished, the fire was extin-
guished, and they partook of the repast.

A moon as bright as that of the preceding night arose,
and the clear river, glistening in the moonlight like liquid
silver, was visible for a great distance. Leslie was soon
asleep, but Kent lay awake the greater part of the night,
revolving in his mind the best course to pursue in regard to
capturing Rosalind. At last he hit upon the plan, and hay-
ing fully determined what to do, he fell into a peaceful
slumber.

“ Now to the rescue,” said Leslie, springing to his feet as
goon as it was fairly light.

“Td advise you to put a stopper on that jaw of yourn, if
you don’t want the whole pack down here in a twinklin’,”

 
   
KENT AND LESLIE ON THE TRAIL. 79

quickly retorted the hunter, slowly coming to the sitting
posture.

“Why, what’s the matter, Kent 2”

“Oh, nothin’; only there’s a few Injins squatted over on
Vother shore.”

“Ah! well, they can’t see us, at any rate, for a thick fog
has gathered during the night and is resting upon the
river.”

“Wal, they can hear you easy ’nough, ’specially if you go
on that way.”

“Come, come, Kent, don’t be cross. I'll wager that they
hayen’t heard me, and I promise that they shall not,”

The two shouldered their rifles, and, as the mist was
slowly rising from the river, again commenced their journey.
The trail was now easily discovered, and followed without
difficulty. It led most of the time along the bank of the
river, and its distinctness showed that the savages had no
fear or cared little for pursuit. Instead of proceeding in
Indian file, as they had at first, they traveled promiscuously
and carelessly, and their number could be easily made out by
their footsteps. During the course of the day Kent gave the
exact number to Leslie, and the precise time that they had
journeyed over the ground.

Leslie, in the ardor of his hopes, still had a fear that they
might not really be upon the track of Rosalind. Might not
some other party be misleading them? Was it not possible
that the party had subdivided, and the one that held her
taken an entirely different course? The probability of error
prevented him from experiencing the joyous hopefulness that
he might have otherwise felt. This worried and caused him
so much anxiety, that he expressed his fears to Kent.

“Don’t know but what we are,” returned the hunter, com-
posedly.

“Do you think that we are?” asked Leslie, earnestly.

“Can't say; Tll go back if you want to.”

“ Heigh! what's that ?”

He sprung forward and caught a shred fluttering from a
bush.

“That’s it! that’s it!” he shouted, fairly leaping with
joy.

 
80 KENT, THE RANGER.

“That's what?” asked the hunter, seemingly disgusted at
this display of childlike emotion.

“Why, a piece of her dress, sure enough,” responded
Leslie.

Here the corners of Kent's mouth gave a downward
twitch, and turning his head so as to glance at Leslie, a dep-
recating grunt escaped him.

“She did it on purpose to guide us,’ added Leslie, not
heeding him. :

Kent’s mouth jerked forward, and a loud guffaw was
given.

“Let us hurry,” said Leslie, starting forward.

“T allow,” commenced the hunter, unable to restrain him-
self further, “that if you play many more such capers you'll
go alone. If the sight of her dress sets you in such fits,
what do you s’pose’ll ’come of you when you set your eycs
on her? and I daresn’t think of the consequences of once
gettin’ your arm around her. Whew!”

“You must pardon my feeling, Kent; but the sudden as-
surance that we were not mistaken or proceeding by guess,
completely overcame me.”

“ Somethin’ queer come over you, no mistake.”

“Well, if you don’t like to see it, I will try and repress it
in future.”

“T hope you will when I’m about.”

The two hurried on without further conversation for some
time. At noon they made a shorter halt than usual, as Kent
informed Leslie that, by pressing forward, they could gain
the region of the savages by nightfall. As the afternoon
advanced, the experienced eye of the hunter began to detect
unmistakable signs of the presence of Indians.

Leslie could not repress his agitation as he realized that
every minute was bringing him nearer and nearer to the
object of his desires. Fear and hope filled him, and he was
alternately gladdened by the one and tormented by the
other.

He did not notice that Kent had changed his direction,
and was proceeding more cautiously than before; he only
knew that he was following closely in his footsteps, and rely-
ing entirely upon his guidance.

 
  

|

 
   
—

THE. INDIAN VILLAGE. 81

All at once the hunter came to a stop, and laid his hand
upon Leslie’s arm. He looked up, and there, before him, was
the Indian village. Kent had conducted him to a sort of
rising ground, which afforded. them a complete view of it,
while the forest gave them an. effectual concealment.

“Tg this the place?” asked he, in astonishment.

“This is the place,’ answered the ranger.

Leslie feasted his eyes a. long time upon the scene before
he withdrew his gaze. Every wigwam was visible, and the
squaws and children could be seen. passing to and fro through
the sort of street or highway. Many of the warriors were
gathered in groups, and reclined upon the ground, lazily chat-
ting ; while their far better halves were patiently toiling and
drudging at the most difficult kinds of work.

Leslie scanned each form that came under his eye, in the
hope of distinguishing one; but he was disappointed, and
compelled to see the night closely settle over the village
Without obtaining a glimpse of her. “After all,” he
thought, “she may not be there, and I am doomed to be
frustrated, at last.’ But. again hope whispered in his ear,
and rendered him impatient for the hour when his fate must
be decided.

The moon arose at about midnight, consequently, all that
was to be done must be done before that time. As soon as
it had become fuirly dark, so that Leslie was unable to dis-
tinguish any thing in the village, he seated himself beside
Kent to ascertain his intentions.

“The time,” said he, “has arrove when we must com-
mence business, and I allow that we must be at it soon.
Here’s your part. ‘You are to stay here till I come back. I
am goin’ down into their nest to hunt her up, and when I
come back you’ll know whether she’s to be got or not. Keep
quiet, and don’t stir from this spot till I give you the order.
Remember, if we're goin’ to do any thin’, you must do as I
tell you. Take care of yourself.”

With these words the hunter departed—departed so si-
lently and stealthily, that Leslie hardly comprehended that
he was gone.

_ Kent, while it was yet light, had taken a survey of the
village, and viewed it, too, with a scout’s eye. He had

 

 
  

82 KENT, THE RANGER.

distinguished the chief’s lodge from the others, and rightly
conjectured that this would be the most likely to contain
Rosalind. Accordingly, he determined to direct his footsteps
toward it, before looking in any other direction. This was
situated in the center. He was, consequently, exposed to
greater danger in reaching it; yet he placed great reliance
upon his disguise, which he yet assumed, and determined to
venture within the village in a short time.

He stood at the extreme end, and now and then could dis-
cern a shadowy form passing silently before him, or, perhaps,
the voice of some warrior or squaw; but soon these sights
and sounds ceased, and he commenced moving forward. Not
a savage was encountered until he stood before the lodge for
which he was seeking. He had now reached the point
where his most subtle powers of cunning were called into
requisition, yet thought not of hesitating.

Standing a second in front of the lodge, he glanced about
him, but not a form was to be seen. Had he been observed
he must have been taken for an Indian, and attracted no
further notice. Kent being certain that his way was clear,
sunk to the earth, and lying upon his face, worked himself
slowly and cautiously toward the lodge. He seemed to
glide precisely like a serpent, so easy and silent were his mo-
tions. In a moment he was beside it, and, as he believed,
Within ten feet of the object of his search. A dim light was
burning. By its light he hoped to satisfy himself shortly of
the truth of his conjectures. Running the keen point of his
knife along the skin that formed the lodge, he had pierced it
enough to admit his gaze, when the light was suddenly ex-
tinguished.

For a moment the hunter’s calculations were at fault. He
had not counted upon this, but had hoped to gain a view of
the interior while the light was burning. He felt bareiy able
to repress his disappointment, as he was again compelled to
devise some other plan. For once he had been frustrated in
his design, and he felt it keenly.

But he determined to risk a look at all hazards. The aper-
ture was completed; Kent raised his head and peered in—and
betrayed himself.

Peguanon was at his place in the inside as usual, watching,

 

<¥

  

 
   
eae

KENT IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP. 83

in the nobleness of his soul, the life of Rosalind. His quick
ear detected the noise, slight as it was, occasioned by Kent's
labor. The latter supposing the inmates of the lodge would
be slumbering, hoped for an opportunity to do what he wished.
But Pequanon was on the alert, and detected him at work.
When his face was placed at the opening, it was brought
between the sky and the darkness of the lodge, and the Indian
plainly observed the outlines of his face. His first impulse
was to seize a rifle and shoot the intruder instantly, for he
believed that it was the one who sought the life of Rosalind ;
but checking himself, he arose and passed out noiselessly,
determined to satisfy himself before action.

Two consummate hunters were now maneuvering against
each other. The movements of both with respect to them-
selves were as much at fault as though they were inexperi-
enced youngsters. The noise of Pequanon was so slight that
it failed to awake either Rosalind or any of the inmates; yet
Kent heard it distinctly, and crouched down upon the ground
and listened. In an instant he caught the step upon the out-
side. He knew that he could spring to his feet and easily
make his escape; but in doing so, he would raise an alarm,
and thus effectually prevent any thing of use being done by
himself. He therefore withdrew some ten or fifteen feet, and
trusted that the Indian would not search further; but he was
mistaken. Pequanon was determined to satisfy himself in
regard to Rosalind’s secret enemy; and espying the shadowy
form gliding along from him, he sprung toward it, hoping and
expecting that it might leap to its feet.

The form leaped to its feet in a manner that he little sus-
pected. Kent saw that an encounter was unavoidable, when,
concentrating his strength, he bounded like a panther toward
the savage, bearing him to the earth, with his iron hand
clutchirg his throat. Pequanon struggled, but was powerless,
and could not make a sound above a painful gurgle. Kent
whipped out his knife, and had just aimed at his breast, when
the savage found voice to speak a few words.

“Hold! you strike the white man’s friend !”

‘ The excellent English startled Kent, and he relaxed his
old.

“Who are you ?” he demanded.

 
  

84 KENT, THE RANGER.

“Pequanon, the white man’s friend.”

“What did you come nosin’ out here fur then?”

Kent’s knees were upon the arms of the Indian, while he
was seated upon his breast. The hunter loosed his grasp,

“The pale-faced maiden. Pequanon wished to save her.”

“Wal, see here, old redskin, ?m after her. You’s sayin’
as how you’s her friend. Mind to help?”

The Indian answered in the affirmative.

“Wal, Pll let you up, pervidin’ you'll go and bring her out.
What you say ?”

“Ys it her friends that wish her?”

“You've hit it there. Goin’ to help ?”

“ Pequanon will lay his life down for the captive.”

“Tl let you up then, and give you two minutes to trot her
out. Ifyou undertake to come any of your tricks over me,
Pll blow your brains out.”

Kent permitted Pequanon to arise, who departed silently
for the lodge without giving a reply to his remark.

The hunter was not to be deceived by any artifice of the
savage, and to guard against treachery, withdrew still further
from the lodge. He doubted very much whether the Indian
would endeavor to assist him at all, but he had done the best
he could under the circumstances.

In a moment his doubts were put to flight by the re-appear-
ance of the noble Indian, with Rosalind. As cool and col-
lected as was the hunter, he could not repress a joyous start
as he gazed upon her form.

“That's the fust Injin, accordin’ to my opine,” he muttered
to himself, “ that ever was a man.”

Rosalind, all trembling eagerness and anxiety, on coming
up to Kent, seemed unable to speak. The hunter noticed
her action and forebore speaking, making a motion, as an
apology, for silence. For a second. the trio remained motion-
less and undetermined what course to pursue. Pequanon
noticed this and started toward the river.

“Hold on, cap’n!” said Kent; “there’s another chap that
come with me.”

The hunter now took the lead; and leaving them hope-
fully pursuing their way, let us glance at Leslie until they
arrive.

 

tlie

 

 
   
:
’

 
 

   

   

MEETING OF LESLIE AND ROSALIND. 85

Chafing, fretting, hoping, fearing and doubting sat Leslie,
impatiently awaiting the appearance of Kent. The falling of
a leaf, or rustling of the branches under some light breeze
startled him ; and when a night-bird, that had been resting
above him gave utterance to its unearthly hoot, and swooped
past, its voice he mistook for the yell of his savage foes, and
the flap of its wings for their approaching tread.

Now he pictured the bliss that he hoped to feel ; then
again he was the prey of most poignant doubts and fears.
Would he see her, and clasp her to his bosom, or was she a
hopeless captive? Was she living or dead? Would Kent
come back without information or hope? Suddenly there .
arose a wild, prolonged yell, that fairly froze him with  ter-
ror. Kent was discovered, and all hope was gone! Oh,
the agony of that moment!

Hardly comprehending the state of things, he formed a
dozen different plans at once. Now he was going to rush
madly forward and rescue Rosalind during the confusion, and
then was about shouting for Kent.

All at once he heard a footstep. The pursuers were then
at hand! Resolved to lay one savage low, he rushed forward
toward the approaching figure. Could it be possible? Was
it not a dream? There she stood before his eyes. His limbs
trembled, and he felt upon the point of falling.

: “Ts this Mr. Leslie?” asked a sweet voice that had thrilled
him more than onee before.

“T guess it’s him or his spook,” answered Kent, for him.
“If there’s goin’ to be any huggin’ done, hurry up with it,
fur they’re follerin’ us.”

This threw off all reserve. Leslie folded Rosalind to his
breast. She spoke not—resisted not—her trembling limbs
and sobs told more than words could have done,

“That'll do for the present,’ interrupted Kent, in a kind
tone. “ We must be off now, fur the red-skins have smelt the
rat, and I should judge by the noise they’re makin’ that ~
they’re in a confounded muss. Never mind, don’t cry. When
we get down home out of danger I'll let. you hug and cry as
mvch as you please. Which way, Mr. Redskin ?”

Pequanon turned to the left and took long, impatient
strides. Kent followed closely in his footsteps, while
86 KENT, THE RANGER.

Leslie led the trembling Rosalind. Often, regardless of the
danger which threatened, he pressed her to him and whis-
pered words of which we can only guess the meaning.

On they hurried, half running, over the tangled underwood
and fallen trees until they paused upon the brink of the river.

Here, to the surprise and joy of all, Pequanon running to
a clump of bushes pulled forth a large canoe and shoved it
into the stream. The others needed no admonition to use it.

“ Here,” said their guide, “we part. May the Great Spirit
guide you.”

“Say, you, yowll get into trouble, won’t you, if you go
back ?” queried Kent.

“The Great Spirit will protect me. Farewell.”

“Wait, Pequanon,” said Rosalind, rising from her seat.

“ Pequanon has only paid his debt to the pale-faced maiden.”

The Indian was gone.

Rosalind sunk back upon her seat in tears.

“ He's the first Injin that I ever got my clutches on that
has got away after it, and the first one that I ever felt like
lettin’ go. Somehow or other my old gun didn’t burn and
wriggle when I sot my eyes on him, as it is used to doin’ in
such cases; and if it wasn’t fur that red = of hisn, I
wouldn’t believe he was one of them.”

All this time the shouts and yells of the savages could be
heard, and now and then it seemed to the fugitives that they
must have been discovered. Kent pulled the boat to the
opposite shore, and as he expressed it, “hugged the bank
mighty close.” He had little fear of being discovered, but the
utmost caution was to be used, for, in their rage, the savages
would use every means in their power to recapture them.

Kent knew that by keeping on, he would in time reach the
banks of the Ohio. Their enemies would probably suspect
‘the true nature of their escape and take to the river in pur-
suit; and, as the Indians, in case of discovery, could easily
overtake and recapture them, they must necessarily be saved
by fortune and stratagem. Though scarce a ripple was heard,
the shadowy form of the boat shot swiftly under the hanging
trees and round the projecting points of the bank, like some
serpent gliding noiselessly over the surface.

Soon the edge of the great moon slowly rose above the

   

    
THE PURSUIT. : 87

dark line of the forest, and its long rays streamed over wood
and river; when it had finally risen high up in the heavens,
the stream shone as brightly as at noonday. Its winding
course could be discerned ahead until it was lost in the forest,
and for miles behind, its banks were as clearly defined as it
could have been under the sun’s rays.

Now that the river and its objects were so plainly de-
picted, Kent kept closer yet under the shadows of the friendly
bank. Now and then he hurried through some opening in
the trees of the shore, where, for a minute, he was exposed
to any gaze that might chance to be given; then, when the
water was shallow, he struck the muddy bottom, and
patiently worked himself on again. Being engaged in row-
ing, his face was turned toward the stern, and thus had a full
sweep of the river which he had passed over, the only point
from which he had reason to apprehend danger.

He was upon the point of speaking, when his quick eye
detected a speck in view around a bend in the river, some
distance back. He halted, for he knew its character.

“ We're follered !” said he, guiding the boat in to shore.

A few minutes more and the boat could be plainly seen by
all three. It was in the center of the stream, and approach-
ing rapidly. The heads of four or five Indians could be dis-"
cerned. Their object was plain to all.

Kent had run his boat against the shore, and the three
were now waiting breathlessly for their enemies to pass.

The Indians plainly had no suspicion that the fugitives
were so close at hand, and kept steadily onward. Hardly
daring to breathe, our three friends saw the long, sharp canoe,
with five of their mortal enemies, shoot past, and disappear.

“Did you see how my gun kept twitchin’ and jumpin’ ?
Why, Thad all I’ could do to hold him. Thunder! it’s too
bad to see them fellers give you such a nice shot and then
miss it,” said the ranger, again taking the oars.

Kent now guided the boat with greater caution, ever and
anon turning and looking ahead, not daring to leave the sole
watch to Leslie, who had other things far more interesting to
himself with which to occupy his mind.

 
    

KENT, THE RANGER.

CHAPTER XV.
THE FUGITIVES FLYING NO LONGER.

Tue fugitives continued moving forward until morning,
when, to guard against needless exposure, Kent again ran the
canoe under the bank, and remained at rest the entire day.
All suffered so much from hunger, that the hunter left the
boat during the afternoon, and, after a few hours’ absence,
obtained a sufficient quantity of meat for them all. This was
cooked after his usual cautious and expert fashion, and was
thankfully partaken of by his companions.

Roland and the maid were resting on the sheltered bank
of the river; none but Kent ventured out of sight of the
spot during the day. For aught they knew there might be
hordes of savages within hearing of their voices, scouring the
woods in every direction in their search; it needed but the
slightest inadvertency upon their part to insure their own
destruction. |

Leslie sat conversing with Rosalind, when Kent started up,
and, glancing behind, stepped down the river-bank and
peered out upon the stream. Leslie was beside him in an
instant, and, as the two gazed out, the boat which they had
seen pursuing them during the night came into view. It was
coming up-stream, evidently returning from the chase. It
now contained but three savages. Although Leslie had but
little to fear, nevertheless he watched the boat with intense
interest. Pausing a second, he glanced around, and exclaimed,
in terror : :

“As sure as heaven, they are heading toward this point.”

Kent commanded, in a whisper :

“Get your shootin’-iron ready, and be ready yourself.
“'They’re comin’ in below us”

The savages had landed a few hundred yards down-stream,
and seemed to suspect the presence of noone. Suddenly one
of them uttered a loud whoop. In a moment it was repeated,
and an answer came, apparently from a distance. Ere long two
savages approached the canoe. and, entering, the five again

 

    
'
}
}
!
;

 

KENT’S PLAN. 89

shoved out, and commenced paddling up-stream. Leslie
asked Kent the meaning of these proceedings.

“Plain enough,” he answered; “they left them two fel-
lers on the shore last night, so that, if they passed us, they
would see us when we came along, and they’ve been watch-
ing there ever since. If we'd gone a half a mile further,
they’d have shot us; but as we happened to stop afore they
got eyes on us, they’ve missed us, that’s all.”

At night they again set out, proceeding fearlessly. When
morning again dawned, many miles were placed between Ro-
salind and her captors.

It is needless to dwell upon the further particulars of their
homeward journey. Every day occupied was like its prede-
cessor: pressing boldly forward when the shade of night
favored them ; proceeding more cautiously through the day ;
resting sometimes in the center of the stream, and then again
approaching the shore for food; now a prey to some imagi-
nary fear, and then thrilling with hope, when they finally
glided into the fair Ohio. Safely they reached their destina-
tion unpursued, and fearing no enemy.

“Wonder who’s in them pile of logs up thar,” remarked
Kent, glancing suspiciously at Leslie, when they were ap-
proaching the ruins of the house.

“Why, who would be there?” returned he, with well-
feigned ignorance.

“ Looks as though somebody had fitted it up. Hallo, here !”
demanded Kent, battering against the structure.

At this summons George Leland stepped forth.

The meeting was such as can be easily imagined ; joy com-
plete filled the hearts of all; friend, brother, sister and lover
were reunited ; nothing was wanting to fill their cup of bliss.
The old hunter, as soon as his brief salutation was over, with-
drew to the background. Leaning on his rifle, he remarked
that he was “ goin’ to look on and see the fun.”

As soon as the emotion of all had subsided, they turned .

toward the hunter. They were without shelter and home, and
something must be done at once.

Kent at once divined their thoughts and said: “Wal, sit
down and I'll tell you what’s to be done.”

The three did as required, and Kent unfolded his plan.

”

 
90 KENT, THE RANGER.

“There's too much trouble for you in these parts; you
must leave. Up the river some distance is quite a settlement,
and there’s the only place you can stay. What I propose is
this: we must leave here as soon as possible, and let us do it
now.”

“More than once have I thought of the plan which Kent
has given,” said Leslie, “and I hope that it will be carried
out at the earliest moment. Every hour passed here is an
hour of peril.

“The matter is then settled,” said George. ‘ Let us pre-
pare to pass our last night here; then to seek another home.”

The shelter in which Leland had spent his time during the
absence of the others was found to be commodious enough to
accommodate all, and into it they went. The old hunter
kept watch during the night, while the rest slept, and we
doubt very much whether four happier, more hopeful beings
ever were congregated.

At the earliest streak of morn, the hunter aroused the
others, and they prepared to take their final departure. The
canoe in which the three had come was found to be suffi-
ciently capacious for the entire party. With a tear of regret
for the old home, the fair Rosalind entered the canoe, and
soon it was cutting the waters on its upward course.

It is not necessary in this place to dwell upon the partic-
ulars of their journey, They encountered nothing unusual or
alarming until, in rounding a bend in the river, they were
startled by the sight of an unusual object far up the stream.
With the exception of Kent, all manifested considerable sur-
prise and apprehension.

“What are we to encounter now?” asked Leslie, as he
earnestly scrutinized the approaching object. ‘ Are we never
to be rid of these brutes ?”

“Tt is undoubtedly one of their contrivances,” added Le-
land, ‘“‘and I’m afraid we shall have to take to the woods
again to give it a go-by. How is it, Kent ?”.

The face of the hunter wore a quizzical look, and his only
reply was a quiet smile. As he observed the looks of wonder
his companions cast upon him, he became more thoughtful.

“This is bad business,” said he, shaking his head ; “ that is
something I didn’t expect to see.”

  

   
    
 

|

 

    
THE FLA'T-BOAT. 91

The progress of the canoe by this time was checked, and it
was drifting with the current. The two.young men had no
desire for a nearer approach to the apparently formidable con-
trivance.

“Can't either one of you two chaps make out what sort
of ship that is coming down-stream 2”

Both Leland and Leslie were considerably puzzled, when
they saw Rosalind smile, as if enjoying their stupidity.

“Tf you can’t tell, just ask the gal,” added the hunter, burst-
ing into a loud laugh.

“Why, George, I thought you had lived long enough in the ©
western country to recognize a flat-boat !”

“What dunces we both were. How could any one imag-
ine that to be any thing else than a genuine flat-boat ? Let
us approach it and make the acquaintance of those on board.”

“Sart’in boys,” said the hunter, dipping his paddles deep
into the water and impelling the canoe rapidly forward.

“ A cheer for them!” exclaimed Leslie, rising in the boat
and swinging his hat over his head.

How unspeakably thankful were the hearts of the fugitives,
as their salutation was returned by more than one voice !
Friends indeed were near, and their dangers were over.

A few moments later the canoe was beside the flat-boat.

“Thank God! thank God!” fervently uttered Leland, as
he clasped his sister in his arms and realized that they were
now safe, safe! For the first time in weeks he felt the sweet
consciousness of safety.

“Tt js almost worth the sufferings we have undergone!”
said he. “This sweet consciousness that we are really beyond
the reach of our foes is an enjoyment that we have not expe-
rienced for a long time.”

“Do not forget the all-sustaining Hand that has brought us
out of the very jaws of death.”

“Forget it? May He forget me when I fail to remember
Him. Great Father,” said Leland, meekly uncovering and
bowing his head, while the tears fell like rain down his face,
“Great Father, for this and all other mercies I thank thee !”

“JT join my thanksgiving with theirs,” said Leslie, in the
same reverent manner, as he approached brother and sister.

The flat-boat was no other than the celebrated expedition

 

 
 
 

92 KENT, THE RANGER.

under Major Taylor, which established such a firm and pros-
perous settlement upon the northern bank of the Ohio. He
had about thirty souls on board, a dozen of whom were men.
The true cause of the astonishing success of this company was
that both the leader and his comrades fully understood the
perils they encountered in venturing into the great western
wilderness. They were not men who could be decoyed into
the simplest or most cunning contrivances that Indian inge-
nuity could suggest, nor were they those who expected to
spend a life of ease and enjoyment in the woods. They
simply understood and prepared for what was before them.

Major Taylor was a man rather inclined to corpulency, with
a red face, Roman nose and eagle eye that seemed to pene-
trate every thing at which it glanced. He was very affable
and social, a great favorite among all his acquaintances,
especially the female portion, who always felt safe in his pres-
ence. His men, nearly all of whom had served under him in
the Revolution, trusted implicitly in him.

“Friends, you are welcome, doubly welcome to this boat,”
said he, raising his hat and saluting Rosalind with all the
stately politeness of a gentleman of the old school. “I trust
your stay upon it will be as prolonged as our own, who, in
all probability, will be the last passengers it will ever carry.”

Leslie related in a few words the main facts concerning the
burning of Leland’s home, the capture and subsequent escape
of himself and sister, and finally of their desire to reach the
upper settlements. The commiscrations of all were given
them. For Rosalind especially they seemed unable to do
enough. She was taken within their cabin, where every
thing that was possible was done for her comfort.

“T must now insist that you remain with us,” said Major
Taylor. ‘ Now that you have no home to,which to return,
you must accompany us and build a new one. If the red-
skins take owr homes from us they are welcome to do so; but
when they undertake it, J suspect they will find they are
troubling a set of men that know a trick or two as well as
themselves. We've all seen service among the dogs.”

“Do you think, Cap’n, there’s likely to be a scrimmage
where you drive your stakes ?” inquired Kent, with a consid-
erable degree of curiosity.

 

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A PARTY OF EMIGRANTS. 93

“T am sure I can not tell,” replied Major Taylor. “ It cer
tainly seems probable, but why do you ask ?”

“Cause if there’s any likelibility of it, Pll agree to acceps
your invite and go with you.”

“ Well, well, my good man, you will go with us any way,
and take the chances of a brush with them. You strike me
as a man who has seen considerable of the woods.”

“ He has indeed,” said Leslie. ‘‘ Under heaven, our safety is
owing to his experience and sagacity. He has spent a life-
time in the woods, and I can honestly say he will be a valu-
able acquisition to your party.”

“Come, none of that now, or I'll leave you!” said the
hunter, in a warning tone to his young friend.

as have no doubt of it—no doubt of it in the least. We
need him, and if he will only go with us, I think I can prom-
ise that he will occasionally see the service for which his
soul longs. But, you have not given us your decision.”

“ We are very grateful for your offer,” said Leland; “we
have indeed no other refuge to which we can go. The house
which has sheltered my sister and myself since infancy is
swept away by those whom we had learned to look upon as
our friends and protectors. I think when we see men at your
age beginning life again, we can afford to do it ourselves.”

“Of course you can—of course you can,” replied. the officer,
in his hearty manner. “ Weill start a settlement on a grand
scale. One of our men once took orders, and is licensed to
marry, so that if either of you gentlemen should need his
services at any time, you will always find him at hand.”

“There is a servant—a negro, who was taken at the same
time with my sister. I feel as though some effort should be
made to recover him,” added Leland, a few minutes later.
“We shall be in a situation to do that by accompanying you,
or, at least, we shall be more likely to find some means of
doing so, than if we followed out the idea, entertained some
time ago, of leaving the country altogether.”

“Tam decidedly of the opinion—”

The officer was interrupted by a man at the front of the
boat, calling out his name. He instantly hastened beside him,
and demanded what he wanted.

“Yonder is something approaching, and I can not satisfy

 

  
  

94 KENT, THE RANGER.

myself as to what it is. What do you make of it?” he
asked.

Major Taylor bent his sharp gaze upon the object in ques-
tion for a moment, and then replied :

“Tt looks like the head of a person, and yet it is certainly
an odd-looking head. We will call this hunter that has just
come on board. Undoubtedly he can assist us.”

In answer to the summons, Kent approached the bow of
the boat, rifie in hand. He peered across the water, but for a
time, failed to identify the thing.

“Stand back a little, and Pll give ita shot. TIl graze it
at first, so as to be sure of what I am going to hit when I
shoot next time.”

The hunter raised his rifle, and holding it a second, fired.
At the same instant the unknown object disappeared.

“TY think you struck it!” remarked Leland.

“T didn’t aim aé it, and consequently it ain’t been hit,”
returned Kent, with an air of assurance. a

“Yonder it is this moment !”

As these words were uttered, it again appeared, and to the
amazement of all, called out to them:

“Gorra! what you wastin’ your bullets on dis nigger’s head
for? Reckoned Kent knowed better.”

The hunter seemed on the point of falling from laughter.

“Who'd a thought it was Zeb! Where has he come from ?
He beats all niggers in Kentuck for adventures and walloping
lies.”

A few minutes later the negro was received upon the flat-
boat. It is scarcely necessary to say that his friends all ex-
perienced unfeigned joy at his return. He was as jubilant
and reckless of the truth as ever, and it was a long time be-
fore they got at the truth regarding his escape from the Shaw-
nees.

The flight of Leland, under Providence, was really the
means of liberating the negro. The confusion occasioned by
the escape of the former was so great, that the savages im-
agined he also had fled with him. Understanding that it was
“do or die” with him, he tugged and struggled at his bonds
with the strength of desperation. Being secured to a tree as
usual, at some distance from the center of confusion, he

  

 

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HOW A GREAT CITY WAS FOUNDED. 95

escaped observation for a few moments. It is doubtful, how-
ever, whether he would have succeeded in freeing himself,
had he not been covertly assisted by some unknown friend.
Who ihis personage could be, was never known ; perhaps
some Indian who had been befriended by the Leland family,
and who experienced some compunctions of honor (not of
conscience) at the situation of the poor negro,

Zeb had learned enough by this time to exercise a little
common sense. Accordingly, when he found himself free, he
made the best use of his feet and wits, and used every effort
to reach the Ohio river. According to his own narration,
he overcame all manner of perils before succeeding. Un-
doubtedly he incurred great risk in the undertaking, and
finally succeeded.

He was trudging wearily along the river margin, listening
for some sound of his relentless enemies, who, he doubted not,
were upon his trail, when he caught sight of the flat-boat.
Although he did not identify it at once, he understood from
its size and formation that the hand of the white man alone
Was concerned in its structure. He immediately plunged into
the river, reaching it in due time, as we have already shown.

At last the pioneers reached their destination, and began a
settlement which, at this day, is not a town merely but a
flourishing city. As we have hinted in another place, their
experience of frontier life and the sagacity and foresight of
their nominal head, saved them from the misfortunes and suf:
ferings that often befall settlers in the new country. It is
true the red wave of the dreadful war in the West surged to
their very doors; but they saw far away in the heavens the

portentous signs, and so prepared that they passed through
it unscathed.

 

The passing years touched lightly the heads of Roland and
Rosalind Leslie. As the palmy days of peace settled upon
them, an old hunter frequently spent days and weeks at their
house. At such times, he took the children upon his knees,
and told them of the hardships and suffering their parents
had endured, and recounted many of his own adventures to
them. Old Kent was a universal favorite in the settlement.
As he became too old to spend his time entirely in the woods,

.

 

 
KENT, THE RANGER.

he joined the boys in their hunts, and there was not one who
would not have braved death in his defense. He died peace-
fully and. happily, under the roof of those whom he had served
so well, and was given a. burial, at his own request, in the
grand.old woods which had ever been his delight and enjoyment.

The wife of Leland survived all of those who haye fig-
ured in these pages; but she too has been laid in the
valley. Their descendants are now a numerous and influen-
tial family, proud of their aneestry, and enthusiastic over the
deeds of THE RANGER.