 Section 7. A Storm Among the Ice-Bergs To prevent the ships separating during the fog, it was necessary to keep fast to the heavy piece of ice which we had between them as offender, and with a reduced amount of sail on them, we made some way through the pack. As we advanced in this novel mode, to the south-west, we found the ice became more open and the westerly swell increasing as the wind varied to the north-west at midnight, we found it impossible any longer to hold on by the flow-piece. All our houses breaking in succession, we made sail on the ships and kept company during the thick fog by firing guns and by means of the usual signals. Through the shelter of a berg of nearly a mile in diameter, we dodged about during the whole day, waiting for clear weather, that we might select the best lead through the dispersing pack. But at nine p.m. the wind suddenly freshened to a violent gale from the northward, compelling us to reduce our sails to a close-reefed main topsoil and storm-stay sails. The sea quickly rising to a fearful height, breaking over the loftiest bergs, we were unable any longer to hold our ground, but were driven into the heavy pack under our lee. Soon after midnight our ships were involved in an ocean of rolling fragments of ice, hard as floating rocks of granite, which were dashed against them by the waves with so much violence that their masts quivered as if they would fall at every successive blow. And the destruction of the ships seemed inevitable from the tremendous shocks they received. By backing and filling the sails, we endeavored to avoid collision with the larger masses, but this was not always possible. In the early part of the storm, the rudder of the arabus was so much damaged as to be no longer of any use, and about the same time I was informed by signal that the terrors was completely destroyed and nearly torn away from the stern post. We had hoped that, as we drifted deeper into the pack, we should get beyond the reach of the tempest, but in this we were mistaken. Our passed away after our, without the least mitigation of the awful circumstances in which we were placed. Indeed, there seemed to be but little probability of our ships holding together much longer, so frequent and violent were the shocks they sustained. The loud crashing noise of the straining and working of the timbers and decks, as she was driven against some of the heavier pieces, which all the activity and exertions of our people could not prevent, was sufficient to fill the stoutest heart that was not supported by trust in him, who controls all the events, with dismay. At two p.m. the storm gained its height when the barometer stood at twenty-eight forty inches, and after that time began to rise. Although we had been forced many miles deeper into the pack, we could not perceive that the swell had it all subsided, our ships still rolling and groaning amid the heavy fragments of crushing bergs, over which the ocean rolled its mountainous waves, throwing huge masses one upon another, and then again burying them deep beneath its foaming waters, dashing and grinding them together with fearful violence. The awful grandeur of such a scene can neither be imagined nor described, nor less can the feelings of those who witnessed it be understood. Each of us secured our hold, waiting the issue with resignation to the will of him who alone could preserve us and bring us safely through this extreme danger, watching with breathless anxiety the effect of each succeeding collision and the vibrations of the tottering masts, expecting every moment to see them give way without our having the power to make an effort to save them. Although the force of the wind had somewhat diminished by four o'clock, yet the squalls came on with unabated violence laying the ship over on her broadside and threatening to blow the storm sails to pieces. Fortunately they were quite new, or they never could have withstood such terrific gusts. At this time the terror was so close to us that when she rose to the top of one wave the arabus was on the top of that next to Leeward of her, the deep chasm between them filled with heavy rolling masses, and as the ships descended into the hollow between the waves, the main topsoil yard of each could be seen just level with the crest of the intervening wave from the deck of the other. From this some idea may be formed of the height of the waves as well as of the perilous situation of our ships. The night now began to draw on and cast its gloomy mantle over the appalling scene, rendering our condition, if possible, more hopeless and helpless than before. But at midnight the snow which had been falling thickly for several hours cleared away as the wind suddenly shifted to the westward, and this well began to subside. And although the shocks our ships still sustained were such that must have destroyed any ordinary vessel in less than five minutes, yet they were feeble compared to those to which we had been exposed, and our minds became more at ease for their ultimate safety. During the darkness of night and thick weather we had been carried through a chain of bergs which were seen in the morning considerably to windward, and which served to keep off the heavy pressures of the pack, so that we found the ice much more open, and I was unable to make my way in one of our boats to the terror about whose condition I was most anxious, for I was aware that her damages were of a much more serious nature than those of the Arabus notwithstanding the skillful and seamen-like manner in which she had been managed, and by which she maintained her appointed station throughout the gale. I found that her rudder was completely broken to pieces, and the fascinings to the stern post so much strained and twisted that it would be difficult to get the spare rudder with which we were fortunately provided fitted so as to be useful and could only be done, if at all, under very favorable circumstances. The other damages she had sustained were of less consequence, and it was as great a satisfaction as it has ever since been a source of astonishment to us to find that after so many hours of constant and violent thumping, both the vessels were nearly as tight as they were before the gale. We can only ascribe this to the admirable manner in which they had been fortified for the service, and to our having their holes so stowed as to form a solid mass throughout. Fall of the Rossburg. The summer of 1806 had been very rainy, and on the first and second of September it rained incessantly. New crevices were observed in the flank of the mountain. A sort of cracking noise was heard internally. Stones started out of the ground, detached fragments of rocks rolled down the mountain. At two o'clock in the afternoon on the second of September a large rock became loose and in falling raised a cloud of black dust. Toward the lower part of the mountain the ground seemed pressed down from above, and when a stick or a spade was driven in it moved of itself. A man who had been digging in his garden ran away from fright at these extraordinary appearances. Soon a fissure larger than all the others was observed. Insensibly it increased. Springs of water ceased all at once to flow. The pine trees of the forest absolutely reeled. The birds flew away screaming. A few minutes before five o'clock the symptoms of some mighty catastrophe became still stronger. The whole surface of the mountain seemed to glide down, but so slowly as to afford time to the inhabitants to go away. An old man who had often predicted some such disaster was quietly smoking his pipe. When told by a young man running by that the mountain was in the act of falling he rose and looked out but came into his house again, saying he had time to fill another pipe. The young man continuing to fly was thrown down several times and escaped with difficulty. Looking back he saw the house carried off all at once. Another inhabitant being alarmed took two of his children and ran away with them, calling to his wife to follow with a third. But she went in for another who still remained. Marianne, aged five. Just then Francesca Ulrich, their servant, was crossing the room with this Marianne whom she held by the hand and saw her mistress. At that instant, as Francesca afterwards said, the house appeared to be torn from its foundations, it was of wood, and spun round and round like a teetotem. I was sometimes on my head and sometimes on my feet in total darkness and violently separated from the child. When the motion stopped she found herself jammed in on all sides with her head downward much bruised and in extreme pain. She supposed she was buried alive at a great depth. With much difficulty she disengaged her right hand and wiped the blood from her eyes. Presently she heard the faint moans of Marianne and called her by her name. The child answered that she was on her back, among stones and bushes, which held her fast but that her hands were free and that she saw the light and then something green. She asked whether people would not come soon to take them out. Francesca answered that it was the day of judgment and that no one was left to help them but that they would be released by death and be happy in heaven. They prayed together. At last Francesca's ear was struck by the sound of a bell which she knew to be that of Stenberg. Then seven o'clock struck in another village and she began to hope there were still living beings and endeavored to comfort the child. The poor little girl was at first clamorous for her supper but her cries soon became fainter and at last quite died away. Francesca, still with her head downward and surrounded with damp earth, experienced a sense of cold in her feet almost insupportable. After prodigious efforts she succeeded in disengaging her legs and thanks this saved her life. Many hours had passed in this situation when she again heard the voice of Marianne who had been asleep and now renewed her lamentations. In the meantime the unfortunate father who with much difficulty had saved himself and two children wandered about till daylight when he came among the ruins to look for the rest of his family. He soon discovered his wife by a foot which appeared above the ground. She was dead with a child in her arms. His cries and the noise he made in digging were heard by Marianne who called out. She was extricated with a broken thigh and saying that Francesca was not far off, a farther search led to her release also but in such a state that her life was despaired of. She was blind for some days and remained subject to convulsive fits of terror. It appeared that the house or themselves at least had been carried down about one thousand five hundred feet from where it stood before. In another place a child two years old was found unhurt lying on his straw mattress upon the mud without any vestige of the house from which he had been separated. Such a mass of earth and stones rushed at once into the lake of Suiti, although five miles distant, that one end of it was filled up and a prodigious wave passing completely over the island of Shuanu, seventy feet above the usual level of the water, overwhelmed the opposite shore and as it returned swept away into the lake many houses with their inhabitants. The chapel of Olten, built of wood, was found half a league from the place it had previously occupied and many large blocks of stone completely changed their position. Simon Switzerland The Rifleman of Chippewa At the time of the French and Indian wars the American army was encamped on the plains of Chippewa. Colonel Saint Claire the commander was a bold and meritorious officer but there was mixed with his bravery a large share of rashness or indiscretion. His rashness in this case consisted in encamping on an open plain beside a thick wood from which an Indian scout could easily pick off his outpost without being exposed in the least to the fire of the sentinel. Five nights had passed and every night he had been surprised by the disappearance of a sentry who stood at a lonely post in the vicinity of the forest. These repeated disasters had struck such a dread into the breasts of the remaining soldiers that no one would volunteer to take the post and the commander, knowing it would be throwing away their lives, let it remain unoccupied several nights. At length the Rifleman of the Virginia Corps volunteered his services. He was told the danger of the duty but he left at the fears of his comrades, saying he would return safe to drink the health of his commander in the morning. The guard marched up soon after and he shouldered his rifle and fell in. He arrived at his bounds and, bidding his fellow sentinels good night, assumed the duties of his post. The night was dark from the thick clouds that overspread the firmament. No star shone on the sentinel as he paced his lonely path and not was heard but the mournful hoot of the owl as he raised her nightly wail from the withered branch of the venerable oak. At length a low rustling among the bushes on the right caught his ear. He gazed long toward the spot once the sound seemed to proceed but saw nothing save the impenetrable gloom of the thick forest which surrounded the encampment. Then as he marched onward he heard the joyful cry of all's well after which he seated himself upon a stump and fell into a reverie. While he thus sat a savage entered the open space behind and after buckling his toon-eck with numerous foals tight around his body drew over his head the skin of a wild boar with the natural appendages of those animals. Thus accoutered he walked past the soldier who seeing the object approach quickly stood upon his guard. But a well-known grunt eased his fears and he suffered it to pass it being too dark for anyone to discover the cheat. The beast as it appeared to be quietly sought the thicket to the left. It was nearly out of sight when through a sudden break in the clouds the moon shone bright upon it. The soldier then perceived the ornamented moccasin of an Indian and quickest thought prepared to fire. But fearing lest he might be mistaken and thus needlessly alarmed the camp and also supposing if he were right the other savages would be near at hand he refrained and having a perfect knowledge of Indian subtlety and craft quickly took off his coat and cap and after hanging them on the stump where he had reclined secured his rifle and softly groped his way toward the thicket. He had barely reached it when the whizzing of an arrow passed his head and told him of the danger he had escaped. Turning his eyes toward a small spot of cleared land within the thicket he perceived a dozen of the same animals sitting on their hind legs instead of feeding on the acorns which at this season lay plentifully upon the surface of the leaves and listening attentively he heard them conversing in the Iroquois tongue. The substance of their conversation was that if the sentinel should not discover them the next evening as soon as the moon should afford them sufficient light for their operations they would make an attack upon the American camp. Then they quitted their rendezvous and assumed their tall forms were lost in the gloom of the forest. The soldier now returned to his post and found the arrow sunk deep in the stump in having passed through the breast of his coat. He directly returned to the encampment and desired the orderly at the marquee to inform the commander of his wish to speak with him having information of importance to communicate. He was admitted and having been heard the Colonel bestowed on him the vacant post of Lieutenant of the Corps and directed him to be ready with a picket guard to march at eight o'clock in the evening to the spot he had occupied the night before where he was to place his hat and coat upon the stump and then lie in ambush for the intruders. Accordingly the party proceeded and obeyed the Colonel's orders. The moon rose but shone dimly through the thick branches of the forest. While the new Lieutenant was waiting the result of his maneuver an arrow whizzed from the same quarter as before. The mock soldier fell on his face. A dozen subdued voices sounded from within the thicket which were soon followed by the sudden appearance of the Indians themselves. They barely reached the stump when our hero gave the order to fire and the whole band were stretched dead upon the plane. After stripping them of their arms and trappings the Americans returned to the camp. Twelve chiefs fell at the destructive fire of the white men and their fall was undoubtedly one great cause of the French and Indian wars with the English. The fortunate rifleman who had originated and conducted the ambush gade returned from the war at its termination with a competency. He was not again heard of until the parent country raised her arm against the infant colonies, then was seen at the head of a band of Virginia riflemen, our hero as the brave and gallant Colonel Morgan. Shipwreck of the Blendenhall In the year 1821 the Blendenhall, free trader bound from England for Bombay partly laden with broad claws, was proceeding on her voyage with every prospect of a successful issue. While thus pursuing her way through the Atlantic she was unfortunately driven from her course by adverse winds and currents more to the southward and westward than was required and it became desirable to reach the island of Tristrande Gakunya in order to ascertain and rectify the reckoning. It was while steering to reach this group of islands that one morning a passenger on board the Blendenhall who chanced to be up on deck earlier than usual observed great quantities of seaweed occasionally floating alongside. This excited some alarm and a man was immediately sent aloft to keep a good lookout. The weather was then extremely hazy, though moderate, the weeds continued. All were on the alert, they shortened sail, and the boat's one piped for breakfast. In less than ten minutes breakers ahead startled every soul and in a moment all were on deck. Breakers starboard, breakers larboard, breakers all around, was the ominous cry a moment afterward and all was confusion. The words were scarcely uttered when and before the helm was up the ill-fated ship struck and after a few tremendous shocks against the sunken reef she parted about midship. Ropes and stays were cut away, all rushed forward as if instinctively and had barely reached the focusel when the stern and quarter-deck broke asunder with a violent crash and sunk to rise no more. Two of the seamen miserably perished, the rest including officers, passengers, and crew held on about the head and bows the struggle was for life. At this moment the inaccessible island which till then had been veiled in thick clouds and mist appeared frowning above the haze. The wreck was more than two miles from the frightful shore. The base of the island was still buried in impenetrable gloom. In this perilous extremity one was for cutting away the anchor which had been got up to the cat-head in time of need. Another was for cutting down the foremost, the four-top mast being already by the board. The fog totally disappeared and the black rocky island stood in all its rugged deformity before their eyes. Suddenly the sun broke out in full splendor as if to expose more clearly to the view of the sufferers their dreadful predicament. Despair was in every bosom. Death, a raid in all its terrors, seemed to hover over the wreck. But exertion was required and everything that human energy could devise was effected. The wreck on which all eagerly clung was fortunately drifted by the tide and wind between the ledges of sunken rocks and thundering breakers until after the lapse of several hours it entered the only spot on the island where a landing was possibly practicable. For all the other parts of the coast consisted of perpendicular cliffs of granite rising from amid the deafening surf to the height of 2040 and 60 feet. As the shore was neared a raft was prepared and on this a few paddled for the cove. At last the wreck drove right in. Ropes were instantly thrown out and the crew and passengers, except two, had been crushed in the wreck including three ladies and a female attendant were snatched from the watery grave which a few short hours before had appeared inevitable and safely landed on the beach. Evening had now set in and every effort was made to secure whatever could be saved from the wreck. Bales of cloth, cases of wine, a few boxes of cheese, some hams, the carcass of a milk cow that had been washed on shore, buckets, tubs, butts, a seamen's chest containing a tender box and needles and thread with a number of elegant mahogany turned bed posts and part of an investment for the India market were got on shore. The rain poured down in torrents, all hands were busily at work to procure shelter from the weather and with the bed posts and broad cloths and part of the foresail as many tents were soon pitched as there were individuals on the island. Granched with the sea and with the rain, hungry, cold and comfortless, thousands of miles from their native land almost beyond expectation of human sucker, hope nearly annihilated the shipwrecked voyagers retired to their tents. In the morning the wreck had gone to pieces and planks and spars and whatever had floated in were eagerly dragged on shore. No sooner was the unfortunate ship broken up than deeming themselves freed from the bonds of authority, many began to secure whatever came to land and the captain, officers, passengers and crew were now reduced to the same level and obliged to take their turn to fetch water and explore the island for food. The work of exploring was soon over, there was not a bird nor a quadruped nor a single tree to be seen. All was barren and desolate. The low parts were scattered over with stones and sand and a few stunted weeds, rocks, ferns and other plants. The top of the mountain was found to consist of a fragment of original table land, very marshy and full of deep sloughs, intersected with small reels of water, pure and pollucid as crystal and a profusion of wild parsley and celery. The prospect was one dreary scene of destitution without a single ray of hope to relieve the misery of the desponding crew. After some days the dead cow, hams and cheese were consumed and from one end of the island to the other not a morsel of food could be seen. Even the celery began to fail. A few bottles of wine, which for security had been secreted underground, only remained. Famine now began to threaten. Every stone near the sea was examined for shelfish but in vain. In this dreadful extremity and while the half-famished seamen were at night squatting and sullen dejection around their fires a large lot of sea birds allured by the flames rushed into the midst of them and were greedily laid hold of as fast as they could be seized. For several nights in succession similar flocks came in and by multiplying their fires a considerable supply was secured. These visits however ceased at length and the wretched party were exposed again to the most severe privation. When their stock of wildfowl had been exhausted for more than two days each began to fear they were now approaching that sad point of necessity when between death and casting lots who should be sacrificed to serve for food for the rest no alternative remained. While horror at the bare contemplation of an extremity so repulsive occupied the thoughts of all the horizon was observed to be suddenly obscured and presently clouds of penguins alighted on the island. The low grounds were actually covered and before the evening was dark the sand could not be seen for the number of eggs which like a sheet of snow lay on the surface of the earth. The penguins continued on the island four or five days when as if by signal the whole took their flight and were never seen again. A few were killed but the flesh was so extremely rank and nauseous that it could not be eaten. The eggs were collected and dressed in all manner of ways and supplied abundance of food for upward of three weeks. At the expiration of that period famine once more seemed inevitable. The third morning began to dawn upon the unfortunate company after their stock of eggs were exhausted. They had now been without food for more than forty hours and were fainting and dejected. When as though this desolate rock were really a land of miracles a man came running up to the encampment with the unexpected and joyful tidings that millions of sea cows had come on shore. The crew climbed over the ledge of rocks that flanked their tents and the side of a shoal of manatees immediately beneath them gladdened their hearts. These came in with the flood and were left in the puddles between the broken rocks of the co. This supply continued for two or three weeks. The flesh was a mere blubber and quite unfit for food for not a man could retain it on his stomach but the liver was excellent and on this they subsisted. In the meantime the carpenter with his gang had constructed a boat and four of the men had adventured in her for Tristan de Cunha in hopes of ultimately extricating their fellow sufferers from their perilous situation. Unfortunately the boat was lost whether carried away by the violence of the currents that set in between the islands or dashed to pieces against the breakers was never known for no vestige of the boat or crew was ever seen. Before the manatees however began to quit the shore a second boat was launched and in this an officer and some seamen made a second attempt and happily succeeded in effecting a landing after much labor on the island. It was to this island that the boats crew of the Blenden Hall had to beat their course and its principal inhabitant Governor Glass showed them every mark of attention. On learning the situation of the crew on inaccessible island he instantly launched his boat and unawed by considerations of personal danger hastened at the risk of his life to deliver his shipwrecked countrymen from the calamities they had so long endured. He made repeated trips surmounted all difficulties and fortunately succeeded in safely landing them on his own island after they had been exposed for nearly three months to the horrors of a situation almost unparalleled in the recorded sufferings of seafaring men. After being hospitably treated by Glass and his company for three months the survivors obtained a passage to the Cape all except a young sailor named White who had formed an attachment to one of the servant girls on board and who in all the miseries which had been endured had been her constant protector and companion while gratitude on her part prevented her wishing to leave him. Both chose to remain and were forthwith adopted as free citizens of the little community. Section 8 of Thrilling Adventures by Land and Sea by James O. Brayman at this LibriVox recording is in the public domain, Section 8. Adventures of Sergeant Champ in his attempt to capture Arnold. The treason of General Arnold, the capture of Andre and the intelligence received by Washington through his confidential agents in New York that many of his officers and especially a major general whose name was given were connected with Arnold could not fail to arouse the anxiety and vigilance of the commander-in-chief. The moment he reached the army then under the orders of Major General Green encamped in the vicinity of Tappan he sent for Major Lee who was posted with the light troops some distance in front. Lee repaired to headquarters and found Washington and his marquee alone, busily engaged in writing. Lee was requested to take a seat and a bundle of papers lying on the table was given to him for perusal. The purport of these tended to show that Arnold was not alone in his base conspiracy but that a major general whose name was not concealed was also implicated. This officer had enjoyed without interruption the confidence of the commander-in-chief nor did there exist a single reason in support of the accusation. It altogether rested on the intelligence derived from the papers before him. Major Lee was naturally shocked at these suspicions and suggested that they were an invention of the enemy. Washington admitted the plausibility of the suggestion but remarked that he had the same confidence in Arnold a few days before that he now placed in the persons accused. After some further conversation Washington disclosed a project which he had maturely revolved in his own mind. I have sent for you, he remarked to Lee, to learn if you have in your core any individual capable of undertaking a delicate and hazardous enterprise. Whoever comes forward on this occasion will lay me under great obligation personally and in behalf of the United States I will reward him amply. No time is to be lost. He must proceed if possible this night. My object is to probe to the bottom the affecting suspicions suggested by the papers you have just read, to seize Arnold and by getting him to save Andre. While my emissary is engaged in preparing for the seizure of Arnold, the agency of others can be traced and the timely delivery of Arnold to me will possibly put it in my power to restore the amiable and unfortunate Andre to his friends. My instructions are ready and which you will find express orders that Arnold is not to be hurt but that he be permitted to escape if it can be prevented only by killing him as his public punishment is the only object in view. This you cannot too forcibly press upon the person who may engage in the enterprise and this fail not to do. With my instructions are two letters to be delivered as ordered and here are some guineas to defray expenses. Lee replied that as the first step to the enterprise was pretended desertion it would be difficult to find a commissioned officer who would undertake it. He knew however a sergeant major of the cavalry named Champ who was in all respects qualified for the delicate and adventurous project. Champ was a native of Loudon County in Virginia about twenty years of age. He had enlisted in 1776 was rather above the common size full of bone and muscle with a Saturnine countenant grave thoughtful and taciturn of pride courage and inflexible perseverance. Washington was satisfied with this description and exclaimed that Champ was the very man for the enterprise. Lee promised to persuade him to undertake it and taking leave of the general returned to the camp of the light core which he reached about eight o'clock at night. Sending instantly for the sergeant major he informed him of the project of the commander-in-chief and urged upon him that by succeeding in the capture and safe delivery of Arnold he would not only gratify his general in the most acceptable manner but would be hailed as the avenger of the reputation of the army stained by a foul and wicked perfidy. And what could not but be highly pleasing he would be the instrument of saving the life of Major Andre. Champ listened with attention to the plan unfolded by Lee and replied that it met his approbation. Even its partial success was likely to lead to great good as it would give relief to Washington's mind and do justice as he hoped to suspected innocence. Champ added that he was not deterred by the danger and difficulty to be encountered but by the ignominy of desertion consequent upon his enlisting with the enemy. It did not comport with his feelings to be even suspected of such a crime. Lee combatted the objections of the sergeant with his usual address and finally subdued his prejudices so far that Champ consented to undertake the enterprise. The instructions of Washington were then read to him and Lee particularly cautioned him to exercise the utmost circumspection in delivering the letters and to take care to withhold from the two individuals addressed under feigned names knowledge of each other. He was further urged to bear in constant recollection the solemn injunction so pointedly expressed in the instructions of forbearing to kill Arnold in any event. It now remained to arrange the mode of Champ's desertion for in order to be received favorably by the British it was necessary that he should desert under circumstances which should assure them of his sincerity. To cross the numerous patrols of horse and foot was no small difficulty which was now increased in consequence of the swarms of irregulars who sometimes ventured down to the very point of Paul's hook with the hope of picking up booty. Evident as were the difficulties in the way no relief could be afforded by Major Lee lest it might induce a belief that he was privy to the desertion which opinion getting to the enemy would peril the life of Champ. The sergeant was left to his own resources and management Lee agreeing that in case Champ's departure should be discovered before morning he would take care to delay pursuit as long as possible. Lee placed in the hands of the sergeant some gold for his expenses and in joining it upon him to apprise him of his arrival in New York as soon as practicable, bade the adventurous Virginia farewell. Champ pulling out his watch compared it with that of Lee reminding him of the importance of holding back pursuit which he was convinced would take place during the night and which might be fatal as he would be obliged to adopt a zigzag course in order to avoid the patrols which would consume time. It was now nearly eleven. The sergeant returned to Camp and taking his cloak, the lease and orderly book, he drew his horse from the picket and mounting set out upon his novel expedition. Hardly half an hour had elapsed when Captain Carn's officer of the day waited on Major Lee and with considerable emotion told him that one of the patrol had fallen in with a dragoon who on being challenged put spur to his horse and escaped, though vigorously pursued. Lee, complaining of the interruption and pretending to be extremely fatigued, answered as if he did not understand what had been said which compelled the Captain to repeat his remark. Who can the fellow be that was pursued, said Lee, a countryman probably? No, replied the Captain, the patrol sufficiently distinguished him to know that he was a dragoon probably from the army, if not certainly one of our own. This idea was ridiculed by Lee as improbable as during the whole campaign but a single dragoon had deserted from the Legion. Carn's was not convinced, much apprehension was felt at that time of the effect of Arnold's example. The Captain withdrew to examine the squadron of horse whom he had ordered to assemble in pursuance of established usage on similar occasions. He speedily returned stating that the deserter was known. He was no less a person than the Sergeant Major who was gone off with his horse, baggage, arms, and orderly book. Sensibly affected at the supposed baseness of a soldier who was generally esteemed, Carn's added that he had ordered a party to prepare for pursuit and that he had come for written orders from the Major. In order to gain time for Champ, Lee expressed his belief that the Sergeant had not deserted but had merely taken the liberty to leave camp upon private business or pleasure. An example, Lee said, too often set by the officers themselves, destructive as it was of discipline, opposed as it was to orders and disastrous as it might prove to the Corps in the course of the service. Some little delay was thus interposed. Carn's began to grow impatient at what seemed the long-winded and unseasonable discourse. It being at length announced that the pursuing party were in readiness, Major Lee directed a change in the officer giving the command to Cornette Middleton. His object was to add to the delay. He knew more over that from the tenderness of his disposition, Middleton would be reluctant to do any personal injury to Champ in the event of a pursuit. Within ten minutes, Middleton appeared to receive his orders, which were delivered to him, made out in the customary form, and signed by the Major. The directions were to pursue as far as could be done with safety, Sergeant Champ, who was suspected of deserting to the enemy and of having taken the road to Paul's Hook, to bring him alive to Camp that he might suffer in the presence of the army, but to kill him if he resisted, or attempted to escape after being taken. Detaining the Cornette for a few minutes longer, in advising him what course to pursue, urging him to take care of the horse in a Coutrement if taken, and enjoining him to be on his guard, lest he might, by a too eager pursuit, improvidently fall into the hands of the enemy. Lee dismissed Middleton and his party. A shower of rain had fallen soon after Champ's departure, which enabled the pursuing Dragoons to find the trail of his horse, for at that time, the horses being all shot by our own ferriers, the shoes were made in the same form, which with a private marker next to the four shoes, and known to the troopers, pointed out the trail of our Dragoons, and in this way was often useful. When Middleton departed, it was a few minutes past twelve, so that Champ had the start of his pursuers by little more than an hour. Lee was very anxious and passed a sleepless night. The pursuing party were, on their part, occasionally delayed by the necessary halts to examine the road, as the impressions of the horses' shoes directed the course. These were, unfortunately, too evident, no other horse, having passed over the road since the shower. When the day broke, Middleton was no longer obliged to halt, and he passed on with rapidity. As the pursuers ascended an eminence to the north of the village of Bergen, Champ was decried not more than half a mile in front. Resembling an Indian and his vigilance, the sergeant at the same moment discovered Middleton and his men, to whose object he was no stranger, and giving spur to his horse he determined to outstrip them. Middleton, at the same instant, put his horses to the top of their speed, and being, as the Legion all were, well acquainted with the country, he recollected a route through the woods to the bridge below Bergen, which diverged from the great road near the three pigeons. Reaching the point of separation, he halted and dividing his party directed a sergeant with a few dragoons to take the near-cut and possess, with all possible, dispatched the bridge, while he, with the rest of his men, followed Champ. He could not doubt but that Champ, being thus enclosed between him and a sergeant, would deliver himself up. Champ did not forget the shortcut and would have taken it, had he not remembered that it was the usual route of our parties when returning in the day from the neighborhood of the enemy. He consequently avoided it and wisely resolved to abandon his intention of getting to Paulus Hook and to seek refuge from two British galleys lying a few miles to the west of Bergen. This was a station generally occupied by one or two galleys. Passing through the village of Bergen, Champ took the road toward Elizabeth Down Point. Middleton's sergeant gained the bridge, where he concealed himself, ready to intercept Champ as soon as he appeared. In the meantime, Middleton, pursuing his course through Bergen, soon arrived also at the bridge when, to his mortification, he found that Champ had escaped. Returning up the road, he inquired of the villagers of Bergen whether a dragoon had been seen that morning preceding his party. He was answered in the affirmative, but could learn nothing satisfactory as to the route taken by the fugitive. While engaged in inquiries himself, he spread his party through the village to discover the trail of Champ's horse. Some of the dragoons hid it, just as the sergeant, leaving the village, reached the road to the point. Pursuit was now vigorously renewed, and again, Champ was described. Apprehending the event, he had prepared himself for it by lashing his valise and orderly book on his shoulders, and holding his dragoon sword in his hand, having thrown away the scabbard. The delay occasioned by Champ's preparations for swimming had brought Middleton within two or three hundred yards. As soon as Champ got abreast of the galleys, he dismounted, and running through the marsh to the river, plunged into it, calling on the people in the galley for help. This was readily given. They fired on our horsemen and sent a boat to meet Champ, who was taken in, carried on board, and conveyed to New York with a letter from the captain of the galley describing the scene which he had himself witnessed of Champ's escape. The horse belonging to Champ, with his equipment, cloak, and sword scabbard, was recovered by Middleton. About three o'clock in the afternoon, our party returned, and the soldiers, seeing the horse in the possession of the pursuing party, exclaimed that the deserter had been killed. Major Lee, at this heart-rending announcement, rushed from his tent, saw the sergeant's horse led by one of Middleton's dragoons, and began to reproach himself with having been the means of spilling the blood of the faithful and intrepid Champ. Concealing his anguish, he advanced to meet Middleton, but was immediately relieved on seeing the downcast countenance of the officer and his companions. From their looks of disappointment it was evident that Champ had escaped, and this suspicion was soon confirmed by Middleton's narrative of the issue of their pursuit. Lee's joy was now as great as his depression had been a moment before. He informed Washington of the affair, who was sensibly affected by the count of Champ's hair-breadth escape, but was rejoiced that it was of a character to put at rest the suspicions of the enemy in regard to the supposed deserter. On the fourth day after Champ's departure, Lee received a letter from him, written the day before in a disguised hand, without any signature, and stating what had passed after he got on board the galley where he was kindly received. He was immediately conducted to New York and introduced to the British commandant to whom he presented a letter from the captain of the galley. Being asked to what core he belonged, and a few other general questions, he was sent under charge of an orderly sergeant to the adjutant general, who was rejoiced to find that he was sergeant major of the Legion of Horse, hitherto remarkable for their fidelity. The adjutant general noted down, in a large folio book, some particulars in regard to Champ, his size, figure, place of birth, countenance, the color of his hair, name of the corps to which he had belonged. After this was finished, he was sent to the commander-in-chief in charge of one of the staff with a letter from the adjutant general. Sir Henry Clinton received him very kindly and detained him at more than an hour, asking many questions in regard to the probable fate of Andre. Whether the example of Arnold's defection had not contaminated to many of the American officers and troops, whether Washington was popular with the army, and what means might be employed to induce them in to desert? To these various interrogatories, some of which were perplexing, Champ answered warily. Exciting, nevertheless, hopes that the adoption of proper measures to encourage desertion would probably bring off hundreds of the American soldiers, including some of the best troops, horse, as well as foot. Respecting the fate of Andre, he said he was ignorant, though there appeared to be a general wish in the army that his life might not be taken, and that he believed that it would depend more on the disposition of Congress than on the will of Washington. After the close of this long conversation, Sir Henry presented Champ with a couple of guineas and recommended him to wait on General Arnold, who was engaged in raising an American legion for the service of his majesty. Arnold expressed much satisfaction on being informed of the effect of his example and the manner of Champ's escape. He concluded his numerous inquiries by assigning quarters to the sergeant. He afterward proposed to Champ to join his legion, promising him the same station he had held in the rebel service and further advancement. Expressing his wish to retire from the service and his conviction of the certainty of his being hung, if ever taken by the rebels, he begged to be excused from enlistment. Assuring the general that should he change his mind, he would accept his offer. Retiring to the assigned quarters, Champ now turned his attention to the delivery of his letters, which he could not effect till the next night, and then only to one of the two incogniti to whom he was recommended. This man received the sergeant with attention, and having read the letter, assured him of his faithful co-operation. The object for which the aid of this individual was required regarded those persons implicated in the information sent to Washington. Promising to enter with zeal upon the investigation and engaging to transmit Champ's letter to Major Lee, he fixed the time and place of their next meeting when they separated. A day or two afterward, Champ accepted the appointment of his recruiting sergeant to Arnold for the purpose of securing uninterrupted ingress and egress at the house which the general occupied. The letters which Lee received from Champ announced that the difficulties in his way were numerous and stubborn, and that his prospective success was by no means cheering. With respect to the charges against certain officers and soldiers in the American army of an intention to follow Arnold's example, he expressed his decided conviction that they were unfounded, that they had taken their rise in the enemy's camp, and that they would be satisfactorily confuted. But the pleasure which the latter part of this communication afforded was damped by the tidings it imparted, respecting Arnold, as on his speedy capture and safe delivery depended Andre's relief. The interposition of Sir Henry Clinton, who was extremely anxious to save his much beloved aide to camp, still continued. It was expected that the examination of witnesses in Andre's case and the defense of the prisoner would protract the decision of the court of inquiry then assembled and give sufficient time for the consummation of the project confided to Champ. This hope was disappointed in a manner wholly unexpected. The honourable and accomplished Andre disdained defense and prevented the examination of witnesses by confessing the character of the mission in the execution of which he was arrested. The court reassembled on the 2nd of October. Andre was declared to be a spy and condemned to suffer accordingly. The painful sentence was executed on the subsequent day in the usual form, the commander and chief deeming it improper to interpose any delay. In this decision he was warranted by the unpromising intelligence received from Champ by the still existing implication of other officers in Arnold's conspiracy by a due regard to public opinion and by the inexorable necessity of a severe example. The fate of Andre, hastened by himself, deprived the enterprise committed to Champ of a feature which had been highly prized by the projector and which had engaged the heart of the individual selected for its execution. Washington ordered Major Lee to communicate what had passed to the sergeant with directions to encourage him to prosecute with vigor the remaining objects of his instructions. Champ bitterly deplored the fate of Andre and confessed that the hope of saving the unfortunate young man had been his main inducement in undertaking his dangerous enterprise. Nothing now remained but to attempt the seizure of Arnold. To this object Champ gave his undivided attention. Ten days he lapsed before he could conclude his arrangements at the end of which time Lee received from him his final communication appointing the third subsequent night for a party of dragoons to meet him at Hoboken when he hoped to deliver Arnold to the officer. From the moment of his enlistment into Arnold's core Champ had every opportunity he could desire for watching the habits of that individual. He discovered that it was his custom to return home about twelve every night and that previous to going to bed he generally walked in his garden. During this visit the conspirators were to seize him, gag him, and carry him across the river. Adjoining the house in which Arnold resided and in which it was designed to seize and gag him Champ had taken out several of the palings and replaced them so that they might be readily removed and open away to the neighboring alley. Into this alley he meant to have conveyed his prisoner aided by his companions, one of two associates who had been introduced by the friend to whom Champ had been originally made known by letter from the commander-in-chief and with whose aid and counsel he had so far conducted the enterprise. His other associate was in readiness with the boat at one of the wars on the Hudson river to receive the party. Champ and his friend intended to have placed themselves each under Arnold's shoulder and to have thus borne him through the most unfrequented alleys and streets to the boat. Representing Arnold in a case of being questioned as a drunken sailor whom they were conveying to the guardhouse the passage across the river could be easily accomplished. These particulars were communicated by Lee to Washington who directed the former to meet Champ and to take care that Arnold should not be hurt. The appointed day arrived and Lee with the party of the grooms left Champ late in the evening with three lead horses, one for Arnold, one for the surgeon, and the third for his associate. From the tenor of the last communication from Champ no doubt was entertained at the success of the enterprise. The party from the American camp reached Hoboken about midnight where they were concealed in the adjoining wood, Lee with three dragoons stationing himself near the river shore. Hour after hour passed no boat approached. At length the day broke and the major retired with his party back to the camp much chagrined at the failure of the project. In a few days Lee received an anonymous letter from Champ's patron and friend informing him that on the day preceding the night for the execution of the plot Arnold had removed his quarters to another part of the town to superintend the embarkation of troops preparing as was rumored for an expedition to be placed under his own direction. The American legion consisting chiefly of American deserters had been transferred from the barracks to one of the transports it being apprehended that if left on shore till the expedition was ready many of them might desert. Thus it happened that John Champ instead of crossing the Hudson that night was safely deposited on board one of the transports from which he never departed till the troops under Arnold landed in Virginia. Nor was he able to escape from the British army till after the junction of Lord Cornwallis at Petersburg when he deserted and passing through Virginia and North Carolina safely joined the American army soon after it had passed the Congruy in pursuit of Lord Rodin. Champ's appearance excited extreme surprise among his former comrades which was not a little increased when they witnessed the cordial reception which he met with from the late major now lieutenant Colonel Lee. His whole story soon became known to the core and he became an object of increased respect and regard. Champ was munificently rewarded and General Washington gave him a discharge from further service lest in the vicissitudes of war he might fall into the enemy's hands in which event if recognized he could expect no mercy. Champ resided in London County Virginia after leaving the army he afterward removed to Kentucky where he died. For a full account of his adventures we may refer the reader to Major Lee's memoirs to which we have been largely indebted. ADVENTURE WITH PIRATES There lived not many years ago on the eastern shore of Mount Deserta, a large island off the coast of Maine, an old fisherman by the name of Jedediah Spenet who owned a schooner of some hundred tons burden in which he, together with some four stout sons, was wont to go about once a year to the grand banks for the purpose of catching codfish. The old man had five things upon the peculiar merits of which he loved to boast, his schooner Betsy Jenkins and his four sons. The four sons were all their father represented them to be and no one ever doubted his word when he said that their like was not to be found for fifty miles around. The oldest was thirty-two while the youngest had just completed his twenty-sixth year and they answered to the names of Seth, Andrew, John and Samuel. One morning a stranger called upon Jedediah to engage him to take to Havana some iron machinery belonging to steam engines for sugar plantations. The terms were soon agreed upon and the old man and his sons immediately set about putting the machinery on board. That accomplished they set sail for Havana with a fair wind and for several days proceeded on their course without any adventure of any kind. One morning, however, a vessel was described off their starboard quarter, which after some hesitation the old man pronounced a pirate. There was not much time allowed them, for doubting, for the vessel soon saluted them with a very agreeable whizzing of an eighteen-pound shot under the stern. That means for us to heave to, remarked the old man. Then I guess we'd better do it, hadn't we? said Seth. Of course. Accordingly the Betsy Jenkins was brought up into the wind and her main boom hauled over to Windward. Now boys, said the old man, as soon as the schooner came to a stand, all we can do is to be as cool as possible and to trust to fortune. There is no way to escape that I can see now, but perhaps if we are civil they will take such stuff as they want, then let us go. At any rate there is no use crying about it, for it can't be helped. Now get your pistols and see that they are surely loaded, and have your knives ready, but be sure and hide them, so that the pirate shall see no show of resistance. In a few moments all the arms which the schooner afforded, with the exception of one or two old muskets, were secured about the persons of our down-easters, and they quietly awaited the coming of the schooner. One word more, boys, said the old man, just as the pirate came round under the stern. Now watch every movement I make, and be ready to jump the moment I speak. As Captain Spenet ceased speaking, the pirate left under the fisherman's leak order, and in a moment more the latter's deck was graced with the presence of a dozen as savage-looking mortals as eyes ever rested upon. Are you the captain of this vessel? demanded the leader of the boarders, as he approached the old man. Yes, sir, what is your cargo? machinery for engines. Nothing else? asked the pirate, with a searching look. At this moment Captain Spenet's eye caught what looked like a sail off to the southward and eastward, but no sign betrayed the discovery, and while a brilliant idea shot through his mind he hesitatingly replied, well, there is a leadle, something else. And what is it? Why, sir, perhaps I had not to tell, said Captain Spenet, counterfeiting the most extreme perturbation. Yes, seat was given to me as a sort of trust, and wouldn't be right for me to give up. You can take anything else, you please, for I suppose I can't help myself. You are an honest codger at any rate, said the pirate, but if you would live ten minutes longer, just tell me what you've got on board, and exactly where it lays. The sight of the cocked pistol brought the old man to his senses, and in a deprecating tone he muttered, Don't kill me, sir, don't. I'll tell you all, we have got forty thousand silver dollars nailed up in boxes and stowed away under some of the boxes just forward to the cabin bulkhead. But Mr. Defoe didn't suspect that anybody would have thought of looking for it there. Perhaps so chuckled the pirate, while his eyes sparkled with delight, and then, turning to his own vessel, he ordered all but three of his men to jump on board the Yankee. In a few moments the pirates had taken off the hatches, and in their haze to get at the silver dollars, they forgot all else. But not so was Spenet. He had his wits at work, and no sooner had the last of the villains disappeared below the hatch way, then he turned to his boys. Now, boys, for our lives! Seth, you clap your knife across the forethroat and peek howards, and you, John, cut the mane. Be quick now, and the moment you've done it, jump aboard the pirate. Andrew and Sam, you cast off the pirate's grapplings, and then you jump. Then we'll walk into them three chaps aboard the clipper. Now, for it! No sooner were the last words out of the old man's mouth than his sons did exactly as they had been directed. The four and main halyards were cut, and the two grapplings cast off at the same instant, and as the heavy gaps came rattling down, our five heroes leaped on board the pirate. The moment the clipper felt at liberty, her head swung off, and before the astonished buccaneers could again the decks of the fishermen, their own vessel was a cable's length to leeward, sweeping gracefully away before the wind, while the three men left in charge were easily secured. "'Hello there,' shouted Captain Spinet, as the luckless pirates crowded around the lee gangway of their prize, when you find them silver dollars, just let us know, will ya?' Half a dozen pistol shots was all the answer the old man got, but they did him no harm, and crowding up all sail he made for the vessel he had discovered, which lay dead to leeward of him, and which he made out to be a large ship. The clipper cut through the water like a dolphin, and in a remarkably short space of time, Spinet left up under the ship's stern and explained all that had happened. The ship proved to be an East Indian man, bound for Charleston, having all told thirty men on board, twenty of whom at once jumped into the clipper and offered their services in helping to take the pirate. Before dark, Captain Spinet was once more with inhaling distance of his own vessel, and raising a trumpet to his mouth, he shouted, "'Scooner ahoy, will ya quietly surrender yourselves prisoners if we come on board!' Come and try it,' returned the pirate captain, as he brandished his cutlass above his head in a threatening manner, which seemed to indicate that he would fight to the last. But that was his last moment, for Seth was crouched below the bulwarks, taking deliberate aim along the barrel of a heavy rifle, and, as the bloody villain was in the act of turning to his men, the sharp crack of Seth Spinet's weapon rang its fatal death-peel, and the next moment the captain fell back into the arms of his men, with a brace of bullets in his heart. Now, shouted the old man, as he leveled the long pivot gun and seized a lighted match, I'll give you just five minutes to make your minds up in, and if you don't surrender, I'll blow every one of you into the other world. The death of their captain, and with all the sight of the pivot gun, its peculiar properties they knew full well, brought the pirates to their senses, and they threw down their weapons, and agreed to give themselves up. In two days from that time, Captain Spinet delivered his cargo safely in Havana, gave the pirates into the hands of the civil authorities, and delivered the clipper up to the government, in return for which he received a sum of money sufficient for an independence during the remainder of his life, as well as a very handsome medal from the government. Kenton the Spy A secret expedition had been planned by Colonel Bowman of Kentucky against an Indian town on the Little Miami. Simon Kenton and two young men named Clark and Montgomery were employed to proceed in advance and reconnoiter. Kenton was a native of Farcourt County, Virginia, where he was born the 15th of May, 1755. His companions were roving back woodsmen, denizens of the wood, and hunters like himself. These adventurers set out in obedience to their orders and reached the neighborhood of the Indian village without being discovered. They examined it attentively and walked around the cabins during the night with perfect impunity. Had they returned after reconnoitering the place, they would have accomplished the object of their mission and avoided a heavy calamity. They fell martyrs, however, to their passion for horse flesh. Unfortunately, during their nightly promenade, they stumbled upon a pound in which were a number of Indian horses. The temptation was not to be resisted. They severally seized a horse and mounted, but there still remained a number of fine animals and the adventurers cast longing, lingering looks behind. It was melancholy, the idea of forsaking such a goodly prize. Flesh and blood could not resist the temptation. Getting scout was nothing to the loss of such beautiful specimens of horse flesh. They turned back and took several more. The horses, however, being indisposed to change masters and so much noise was made in the attempt to secure them, that at last the thieves were discovered. The cry rang through the village at once that the long knives were stealing their horses right before the doors of their wigwams. A great hubbub ensued and Indians, old and young, squaws, children and warriors, all sallied out with loud screams to save their property from the greedy spoilers. Kenton and his friends saw that they had overshot their mark and that they must ride for their lives. Even in this extremity, however, they could not reconcile their minds to the surrender of a single horse which they had altered. And while two of them rode in front and led a great number of horses, the other brought up the rear and, applying his whip from right to left, did not permit a single animal to lag behind. In this manner they dashed through the woods at a furious rate with a hue and cry after them until their course was suddenly stopped by an impenetrable swamp. Here, from necessity, they paused a few minutes and listened attentively. Hearing no sounds of pursuit, they resumed their course and, skirting the swamp for some distance in the vain hope of crossing it, they bent their course in a straight direction to the Ohio. They rode during the whole night without resting a moment, halting a brief space at daylight. They continued their journey throughout the day and the whole of the following night. And by this uncommon celerity of movement, they succeeded in reaching the northern bank of the Ohio on the morning of the second day. Crossing the river would now ensure their safety, but this was likely to prove a difficult undertaking and the close pursuit, which they had reason to expect, rendered it expedient to lose as little time as possible. The wind was high and the river rough and boisterous. It was determined that Kenton should cross with the horses while Clark and Montgomery should construct a raft in order to transport their guns, baggage, and ammunition to the opposite shore. The necessary preparations were soon made and Kenton, after forcing his horse into the river, plunged in himself and swam by their side. In a few minutes, the high waves completely overwhelmed him and forced him considerably below the horses, who stemmed the current much more successfully than he. The horses, being left to themselves, turned about and made for the Ohio shore, where Kenton was compelled to follow them. Again he forced them into the water, and again they returned to the same spot until Kenton became so exhausted by repeated efforts as to be unable to swim. What was to be done? That the Indians would pursue them was certain that the horses would not and could not be made to cross the river in its present state was equally certain. Should they abandon their horses and cross on the raft or remain with their horses and brave the consequence? The lighter alternative was adopted unanimously. Death or captivity might be tolerated, but the loss of such a beautiful lot of horses after working so hard for them was not to be thought of for a moment. Should they move up or down the river or remain where they were? The lighter plan was adopted and a more indiscreet one could hardly have been imagined. They supposed that the wind would fall at sunset and the river become sufficiently calm to admit of their passage, and as it was thought probable that the Indians might be upon them before night it was determined to conceal their horses in a neighboring ravine while they should take their stations in the adjoining wood. The day passed away in tranquility, but at night the wind blew harder than ever and the water became so rough that they would hardly have been able to cross on their raft. As if totally infatuated, they remained where they were until morning, thus wasting twenty-four hours of most precious time in idleness. In the morning the wind abated and the river became calm, but it was now too late. Their horses had become obstinate and intractable and positively and repeatedly refused to take to the water. Their masters at length determined to do what ought to have been done at first. They severally resolved to mount a horse and make the best of their way down the river to Louisville, but their unconquerable reluctance to lose their horses overcame even this resolution. Instead of leaving the ground instantly, they went back upon their own trail in the vain effort to regain possession of the rest of their horses, which had broken from them in their last effort to drive them into the water. They literally fell victims to their love for horse flesh. They had scarcely ridden one hundred yards when Kenton, who had dismounted, heard a loud hallou. He quickly beheld three Indians and one white man, all well-mounted. Wishing to give the alarm to his companions, he raised his rifle, took a steady aim at the rest of the foremost Indian, and drew the trigger. His gun had become wet on the raft and flashed. The enemy were instantly alarmed and dashed at him. Kenton took to his heels and was pursued by four horsemen at full speed. He instantly directed his steps to the thickest part of the wood and had succeeded, as he thought, in baffling his pursuers, when, just as he was entering the wood, an Indian on horseback galloped up to him with such rapidity as to render flight useless. The horseman rode up, holding out his hand, and calling out, Brother, Brother, in a tone of great affection. Kenton observes that if his gun would have made fire, he would have brothered him to his heart's content. But being totally unarmed, he called out that he would surrender if they would give him quarter and good treatment. Promises were cheap with the Indian, who, advancing with extended hands and a withering grin upon his countenance, which was intended for a smile of courtesy, seized Kenton's hand and grasped it with violence. Kenton, not liking the manner of his captor, raised his gun to knock him down, when an Indian, who had followed him closely through the brushwood, sprung upon his back and pinured his arms to his side. The one who had been grinning so amiably then raised him by the hair and shook him until his teeth rattled while the rest of the party coming up fell upon Kenton with their tongues and ramrods until he thought they would scold or beat him to death. They were the owners of the horses which he had carried off and now took ample revenge for the loss of their property. At every stroke of their ramrods over his head, they would exclaim in a tone of strong indignation, steal Indian horse! Their attention, however, was soon directed to Montgomery, who having heard the noise attending Kenton's captor, very gallantly hastened up to his assistance, while Clark prudently took to his heels. Montgomery halted within gun-shot and appeared busy with the pan of his gun as if preparing to fire. Two Indians instantly sprang off in pursuit of him while the rest attended to Kenton. In a few minutes Kenton heard the crack of two rifles in quick succession followed by a hallou which announced the fate of his friend. The Indians returned waving the bloody scalp of Montgomery and with countenance and gestures which menaced him with a similar fate. Then they proceeded to secure their prisoner by pinioning him with stout stick and fastening him with ropes to a tree. During the operation they cuffed him from time to time with great artiness and abused him for a thief, a horse thief, a rascal! Kenton remained in this painful position throughout the night, looking forward to certain death and most probably torture as soon as he should reach their town. Their rage against him displayed itself the next morning in rather a singular manner. Among the horses which Kenton had taken was a wild young colt wholly unbroken and with all his honors of mane and tail undocked. Upon him Kenton was mounted without saddle or bridle with his hands tied behind him and his feet fastened under the horse's belly. The country was rough and bushy and Kenton had no means of protecting his face from the brambles through which it was expected that the colt would dash. As soon as the rider was firmly fastened to his back the colt was turned loose with a sudden lash but after curviting and a capricoling for a while to the great distress of Kenton but to the infinite amusement of the Indians he appeared to take compassion on his rider and falling into a line with the other horses avoided the brambles entirely and went on very well. In this manner he rode through the day. At night he was taken from the horse and confined as before. On the third day they came within a few miles of Chilicote. Here the party halted and sent forward a messenger to prepare for their reception. In a short time Blackfish one of their chiefs arrived and regarding Kenton with a stern countenance thundered out in very good English, you have been stealing horses. Yes, sir, did Captain Boone tell you to steal our horses? No, sir, I did it of my own accord. Blackfish made no reply to this frank confession but brandishing a hickory switch he applied it so briskly to Kenton's naked back and shoulders as to bring the blood freely and occasion acute pain. Thus alternately scolded and beaten Kenton was conducted to the village. All the inhabitants, men, women and children, ran out to feast their eyes with the sight of the prisoner and all down to the smallest child appeared in a paraxism of rage. They whooped, they yelled, they hooted, they clapped their hands and poured upon him a flood of abuse to which all that he had yet experienced was a courteous and civil. With loud cries they demanded that their prisoner should be tied to the stake. The hint was instantly complied with, but after being well thrashed and tormented he was released for the purpose of furnishing further amusement to his captors. Early in the morning he beheld the scalp of Montgomery stretched upon a hoop and drying in the air before the door of one of their principal houses. He was let out in order to run the gauntlet. A row of boys, women and men, extended to the distance of a quarter of a mile. At the starting place stood two grim warriors with butcher knives and their hands. At the extremity of the line was an Indian beating a drum and a few paces beyond the drum was the door of the council house. Clubs, switches, hoe handles, and tomahawks were brandished along the whole line and, as Kenton saw these formidable preparations, the cold sweat streamed from his pores. The moment for starting arrived. The great drum at the door of the council house was struck and Kenton sprang forward in the race. He, however, avoided the row of his enemies and, turning to the east, drew the whole party in pursuit of him. He doubled several times with great activity and, at length observing an opening, he darted through it and pressed forward to the council house with the rapidity which left his pursuers far behind. One or two of the Indians succeeded in throwing themselves between him and the goal and, from these alone, he received a few blows but was much less injured than he could at first have supposed possible. After the race was over, a council to decide his fate was held while he was handed over naked and bound to the care of a guard in the open air. The deliberation commenced. Every warrior sat in silence while a large war club was passed around the circle. Those who were opposed to burning the prisoner on the spot were to pass the club in silence to the next warrior. Those in favor of burning were to strike the earth violently with the club before passing it. A teller was appointed to count the votes. This dignitary reported that the opposition had prevailed and that it was determined to take the prisoner to an Indian town on Mad River called Watko Tom Coco. His fate was announced to him by a Renegado white man who acted as interpreter. Kenton asked what the Indians intended to do with him upon reaching Watko Tom Coco. Burnu replied the Renegado with a ferocious oath. After this pleasant assurance, the laconic and scowling interpreter walked away. The prisoner's clothes were restored to him and he was permitted to remain unbound. Thanks to the intimation of the interpreter, he was aware of the fate and reserve for him and resolved that he would never be carried alive to Watko Tom Coco. Their route lay through an unprimed forest, abounding in thickets and undergrowth. During the whole of the march, Kenton remained abstracted in silent, often meditating an effort for the recovery of his liberty and as often shrinking from the peril of the attempt. At length he was aroused from his reverie by the Indians firing off their guns and raising the shrill scalp aloo. The signal was soon answered and the deep roll of a drum was heard far in front, announcing to the unhappy prisoner that they were approaching an Indian town where the gauntlet, certainly and perhaps the stake, awaited him. The idea of a repetition of the dreadful scenes he had just encountered overcame his indecision and with a sudden and startling cry he sprung into the bushes and fled with the speed of a wild deer. The pursuit was instant and keen. Some of his pursuers were on horseback, some on foot, but he was flying for his life. The stake and the hot iron and the burning splinters were before his eyes and he soon distanced the swiftest hunter in pursuit. But fate was against him at every turn. Thinking only of the enemy behind, he forgot that there might be an enemy before and he suddenly found that he had plunged into the center of a fresh party of horsemen who had saluted from the town at the firing of the guns and happened, unfortunately, to stumble upon the poor prisoner now making a last effort for freedom. His heart sunk at once from the ardor of hope to the lowest pit of despair and he was again halted and driven into captivity like an ox to the slaughter. On the second day he arrived at Wanko Ptampico. Here he was again compelled to run the gauntlet in which he was severely hurt. Immediately after this ceremony he was taken to the council house and all the warriors once more assembled to determine his fate. He sat silent and ejected upon the floor of the cabin when the door of the council house opened and Simon Gertie, James Gertie, John Ward, and an Indian came in with a woman as a prisoner together with seven children and seven scouts. Kenton was immediately removed from the council house and the deliberations of the assembly were protected to a very late hour in consequence of the arrival of the last named party with a fresh drove of prisoners. At length he was again summoned to attend the council house being informed that his fate was decided. Upon entering he was greeted with a savage scow which, if he had still cherished a spark of hope, would have completely extinguished it. Simon Gertie threw a blanket upon the floor and harshly ordered him to take a seat upon it. The order was not immediately complied with and Gertie, impatiently seizing his arm, jerked him roughly upon the blanket and pulled him down. In a menacing tone Gertie then interrogated him as to the condition of Kentucky. How many men are there in Kentucky? It is impossible for me to answer that question, replied Kenton, but I can tell you the number of officers and their respective ranks and you can judge for yourself. Do you know William Stewart? Perfectly well. He is an old and intimate acquaintance. What is your own name? Simon Butler, replied Kenton, who had been known formerly by that name. Never did the announcement of a name produce a more powerful effect. Gertie and Kenton had served as spies together in Dunmore's expedition. The former had not then abandoned the Society of the Whites for that of the savages and had become warmly attached to Kenton during the short period of their services together. As soon as he heard the name he threw his arms around Kenton's neck and embraced him with much emotion. Then, turning to the assembled warriors who had witnessed this scene with much surprise, Gertie informed them that the prisoner whom they had just condemned to the state was his ancient companion and bosom friend that they had traveled the same war path, slept upon the same blanket, and dwelt in the same wigwam. He entreated them to spare him the anguish of witnessing the torture by his adopted brothers of an old comrade and not to refuse so trifling a favour as the life of a white man to the earnest intercession of one who had proved by three years faithful service that he was zealously devoted to the cause of the Indians. The speech was listened to in silence and some of the chiefs were disposed to grant Gertie's request. But others urged the flagrant misdemeanors of Kenton that he had not only stolen their horses but had flashed his gun at one of their young men that it was in vain to suppose that so bad a man could ever become an Indian at heart like their brother Gertie that the Kentuckians were all alike very bad people and ought to be killed as fast as they were taken. And finally they observed that many of their people had come from a distance solely to assist at the torture of the prisoner and pathetically painted the disappointment and chagrin with which they would hear that all their trouble had been for nothing. Gertie continued to urge his request however with great earnestness and the debate was carried on for an hour and a half with much energy and heat. The feelings of Kenton during this suspense may be imagined. At length the war club was produced and the final vote was taken. It was in favor of the prisoners reprieve. Having thus succeeded in his benevolent purpose Gertie lost no time in attending to the comfort of his friend. He led him into his own wigwam and from his own store gave him a pair of moccasins and leggings, a breech cloth, a hat, a coat, a handkerchief for his neck, and another for his head. For the space of three weeks Kenton lived in tranquility treated with much kindness by Gertie and the chiefs. But at the end of that time as he was one day with Gertie and an Indian named Red Bull, another Indian came from the village toward them uttering repeatedly a whoop of peculiar intonation. Gertie instantly told Kenton it was the distress halloo and that they must all go instantly to the council house. Kenton's heart fluttered at the intelligence for he dreaded all whoops and heartily hated all council houses, firmly believing that neither boated him any good. Nothing, however, could be done to avoid whatever fate awaited him and he sadly accompanied Gertie and Red Bull back to the village. On entering the council house Kenton perceived from the ominous scowls of the chiefs that they meant no tenderness toward him. Gertie and Red Bull were cordially received but when poor Kenton offered his hand it was rejected by six Indians successively after which, sinking into despondence, he turned away and stood apart. The debate commenced. Kenton looked eagerly toward Gertie as his last and only hope. His friend seemed anxious and distressed. The chiefs from a distance rose one after another and spoke in a firm and indignant tone often looking sternly at Kenton. Gertie did not desert him but his eloquence was wasted. After a warm discussion he turned to Kenton and said, Well, my friend, you must die. One of the stranger chiefs instantly seized him by the collar and others surrounding him he was strongly pinioned, committed to a guard and marched off. His guard were on horseback while he was driven before them on foot with a long rope around his neck. In this manner they had marched about two and a half miles when Gertie passed them on horseback informing Kenton that he had friends at the next village with whose aid he hoped to be able to do something for him. Gertie passed on to the town but finding that nothing could be done he would not see his friend again but returned to Wakako and Damako by a different route. The Indians with their prisoner soon reached a large village upon the headwaters of the Skilto where Kenton for the first time beheld the celebrated Mingo Chief Logan so honorably mentioned in Jefferson's notes on Virginia. Logan walked gravely up to the place where Kenton stood and the following short conversation ensued. Well, young man, these people seem very mad at you. Yes, sir, they certainly are. Well, don't be disheartened. I am a great chief. You are to go to Sandusky. They speak of burning you there. But I will send two runners tomorrow to help you. Logan's form was manly, his countenance calm and noble, and he spoke the English language with fluency and correctness. Kenton's spirits revived at the address of the benevolent chief and he once more looked upon himself as providentially rescued from the stake. On the following morning two runners were dispatched to Sandusky as the chief had promised. In the evening they returned and were closeted with Logan. Kenton felt the most burning anxiety to know the result of their mission, but Logan did not visit him until the next morning. He then walked up to him, accompanied by Kenton's guard, and giving him a piece of bread, told him that he was instantly to be carried to Sandusky and left him without uttering another word. Again Kenton's spirits sunk. From Logan's manner he supposed that his intercession had been unabailing and that Sandusky was to be the scene of his final suffering. This appears to have been the truth, but Fortune had not finished her caprices. On being driven into the town, for the purpose of being burnt on the following morning, an Indian agent from Canada named Druwer interposed and once more was he rescued from the stake. Druwer wished to obtain information for the British commandant at Detroit. And so earnestly did he insist upon Kenton's being delivered to him that the Indians at length consented upon the express condition that after the required information had been obtained he should be again restored to their possession. To this Druwer consented and, without further difficulty, Kenton was transferred to his hands. Druwer lost no time in removing him to Detroit. On the road he informed Kenton of the condition upon which he had obtained possession of his person, assuring him, however, that no consideration should induce him to abandon the prisoner to the mercy of such wretches. At Detroit Kenton's condition was not unpleasant. He was obliged to report himself every morning to an English officer and was restricted to certain boundaries through the day. In other respects he scarcely felt that he was a prisoner. His wounds were healed and his emaciated limbs were again clothed with a fair proportion of flesh. He remained in this state of easy restraint from October 1777 until June 1778 when he meditated and escaped. He cautiously broached his project to two young Kentuckians then at Detroit who had been taken with boon at the Blue Licks and had been purchased by the British. He found them as impatient as himself of captivity and resolute to accompany him. He commenced instant preparations. Having formed a close friendship with two Indian hunters, he deluged them with rum and bought their guns for a mere trifle. These he hid in the woods and, returning to Detroit, managed to procure powder and ball with another rifle. The three prisoners then appointed a night for their attempt and agreed upon a place of rendezvous. They met at the time and place appointed without discovery and, taking a circuitous route, avoiding pursuit by traveling only during the night, they at length arrived safely at Louisville after a march of 30 days. End of Section 9