 There is a large class of readers who seek books for the sake of the amusement they afford. Many are not very fastidious as to the character of those they select, and consequently the press of the present day teams with works which are not only value less, so far as imparting information is concerned, but actually deletrious in their moral tendency and calculated to vitiate and innervate the mind. Such publications as pander to a prurient taste find a large circulation with a portion of society who read them for the same reason that the inebriate seeks his bowl, or the gambler, the instruments of his vocation, for the excitement they produce. The influence of works of this description is all-banned. There is not a single redeeming feature to commend them to the favour or toleration of the virtuous or intelligent. It cannot be expected that minds accustomed to such reading can at once be elevated into the higher walks of literature, or the more rugged paths of science, and intermediate step by which they may be lifted into a higher mental position is required. There is, in the adventures of the daring and heroic, something that interests all. There is a charm about them, which, while it partakes of the nature of romance, does not exercise the same influence upon the mind or heart. When there are noble purposes and noble ends connected with them, they excite in the mind of the reader noble impulses. The object of the present compilation is to form a readable and instructive volume, a volume of startling incident and exciting adventures which shall interest all minds and, by its attractions, beget thirst for reading with those who devote their leisure hours to things hurtful to themselves and to community. We have endeavored to be authentic and to present matter, which, if it sometimes fails to impart knowledge or instruction or convey a moral lesson, will at least be inoxious. But we trust we have succeeded in doing more than this, in placing before the reading public something that is really valuable and that will produce valuable results. End of preface. Section 1 Of Thrilling Adventures by Land and Sea by James O. Brayman This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Section 1 Incident at Rosaca de la Palma Sergeant Milton gives the following account of an incident which befell him at the Battle of Rosaca de la Palma. At Palo Alto, said he, I took my rank in the troops as Second Sergeant, and while upon the field my horse was wounded in the jaw by a grape shot, which disabled him for service. While he was plunging in agony, I dismounted, and the quick eye of Captain May observed me as I alighted from my horse. He inquired if I was hurt. I answered no, that my horse was the sufferer. I am glad it is not yourself, replied he. There is another. He pointed at the same time to a steed without a rider, which was standing with dye-lated eye, gazing at the strife. Mount him. I approached the horse, and he stood still until I put my hand upon the rain and patted his neck, when he rubbed his head alongside of me, as if pleased that some human being was about to become his companion in the effray. On the second day at Rosaca de la Palma our troop stood anxiously waiting for the signal to be given, and never had I looked upon men on whose countenances were more clearly expressed a fixed determination to win. The lips of some were pale with excitement, and their eyes wore that fixed expression which betokens mischief. Others, with shut teeth, would quietly laugh and catch a tighter grip of the rain, or seat themselves with care and firmness in the saddle, while quiet words of confidence and encouragement were passed from each to his neighbour. All at once, Captain May wrote to the front of his troop, every rain and sabre was tightly grasped. Raising himself and pointing at the battery, he shouted, Men, follow! There was now a clattering of hoofs, and a rattling of sabre sheaths, the fire of the enemy's guns was partly drawn by Lieutenant Ridgely, and the next moment we were sweeping like the wind up the ravine. I was in a squad of about nine men who were separated by a shower of grape from the battery, and we were in advance, May leading. He turned his horse opposite the breastwork in front of the guns, and with another shout to follow, leaped over them. Several of the horses did follow, but mine, being new and not well trained, refused. Two others balked, and their riders started down the ravine to turn the breastwork where the rest of the troop had entered. I made another attempt to clear the guns with my horse, turning him around, feeling all the time secure at thinking the guns discharged. I put his head toward them and gave him spur, but he again balked. So, turning his head down the ravine, I too started to ride round the breastwork. As I came down, a Lancer dashed at me with Lance in rest. With my sabre I parried his thrust, only receiving a slight flesh wound from its point in the arm, which felt at the time like the prick of a pin. The Lancer turned and fled. At that moment a ball passed through my horse on the left side, and shattered my right side. The shot killed the horse instantly, and he fell upon my left leg, fastening me by his weight to the earth. There I lay right in the midst of the action, where Carnage was riding riot, and every moment the shot from our own and the Mexican guns tearing up the earth around me. I tried to raise my horse so as to extricate my leg, but I had already grown so weak with my wound that I was unable, and from the mere attempt I fell back exhausted. To add to my horror, a horse who was careering about, riderless, within a few yards of me, received a wound, and he commenced struggling and rearing with pain. Two or three times he came near falling on me, but at length, with a scream of agony and a bound, he fell dead, his body touching my own fallen steed. What I had been in momentary dread of now occurred. My wounded limb, which was lying across the horse, received another ball in the ankle. I now felt disposed to give up, and exhausted through pain and excitement, a film gathered over my eyes, which I thought was the precursor of dissolution. From this hopeless state, I was aroused by a wounded Mexican calling out to me, Plano Americano, and turning my eyes toward the spot, I saw that he was holding a certificate and calling to me. The tide of action now rolled away from me, and hope again sprung up. The Mexican uniforms began to disappear from the chaparral, and squadrons of our troops fast in sight, apparently in pursuit. While I was thus nursing the prospect of escape, I beheld, not far from me, a villainous looking ranchero, armed with an American sergeant's short sword, dispatching a wounded American soldier, whose body he robbed. The next he came to was a Mexican whom he served the same way, and thus I looked on while he murderously slew four. I drew an undischarged pistol from my holsters, and laying myself along my horse's neck, watched him, expecting to be the next victim. But something frightened him, from his vulture-like business, and he fled in another direction. I need not say that had he visited me, I should have taken one more shot at the enemy, and would have died content had I succeeded in making such an assassin by the dust. Two hours later I had the pleasure of shaking some of my comrades by the hand, who were picking up the wounded. They lifted my Mexican friend, too, and I am pleased to say he, as well as myself, lived to fight over again the sanguine fray of Rosaca de la Palma. True Heroism While the plague raged violently at Marseille, every link of affection was broken, the father turned from the child, the child from the father, cowardice and, in gratitude, no longer excited in dignation. Misery was at its height when it thus destroys every generous feeling, thus dissolves every tie of humanity. The city became a desert. Grass grew in the streets, a funeral met you at every step. The physicians assembled in a body at the Hotel de Villa to hold a consultation on the fearful disease, for which no remedy had yet been discovered. After a long deliberation, they decided unanimously that the malady had a peculiar and mysterious character, which opening a corpse alone might develop. An operation it was impossible to attempt, since the operator must infallibly become a victim in a few hours beyond the power of human art to save him, as the violence of the attack would preclude their administering the customary remedies. A dead pause succeeded this fatal declaration. Suddenly a surgeon named Guyon, in the prime of life, and of great celebrity in his profession, rose and said firmly, Be it so, I devote myself for the safety of my country, before this numerous assembly I swear in the name of humanity and religion, that tomorrow, at the break of day, I will dissect a corpse and write down as I proceed what I observe. He left the assembly instantly. They admired him, lamented his fate, and doubted whether he would persist in his design. The intrepid Guyon, animated by all the sublime energy which patriotism can inspire, acted up to his word. He had never married, he was rich, and he immediately made a will. He confessed, and in the middle of the night received the sacraments. A man had died of the plague in his house within four and twenty hours. Guyon, at daybreak, shut himself up in the same room. He took with him an ink stand, paper, and a little crucifix. Full of enthusiasm and kneeling before the corpse, he wrote, Moldering remains of an immortal soul, not only can I gaze on thee without horror, but even with joy and gratitude. Thou wilt open to me the gates of a glorious eternity. In discovering to me the secret cause of the terrible disease which destroys my native city, thou wilt enable me to point out some salutary remedy. Thou wilt render my sacrifice useful. O God, thou wilt bless the action, thou hast thyself inspired. He began. He finished the dreadful operation, and recorded in detail his surgical observations. He left the room, threw the papers into a vase of vinegar, and afterward sought the lazaretto, where he died in twelve hours, a death ten thousand times more glorious than the warriors, who, to save his country, rushes on the enemy's ranks, since he advances with hope at least sustained, admired, and seconded by a whole army. A thrilling incident. An incident occurred at the Kibis Gaine lighthouse during the Florida War, which is perhaps worth recording. The lighthouse was kept by a man named Thompson. His only companion was an old Negro man. They both lived in a small hut near the lighthouse. One evening, about dark, they discovered a party of some fifteen or twenty Indians creeping upon them, upon which they immediately retreated into the lighthouse, carrying with them a keg of gunpowder with the guns and ammunition. From the windows of the lighthouse Thompson fired upon them several times, but the moment he would show himself at the window, the glasses would be instantly riddled by the rifle balls, and he had no alternative but to lie close. The Indians, meanwhile, getting out of patience at not being able to force the door, which Thompson had secured, collected piles of wood, which being placed against the door and set fire to, in process of time, not only burnt through the door, but also set fire to the staircase conducting to the lantern into which Thompson and the Negro were compelled to retreat. From this, too, they were finally driven by the encroaching flames and were forced outside on the parapet wall, which was not more than three feet wide. The flames now began to ascend as from a chimney some fifteen or twenty feet above the lighthouse. These men had to lie in this situation some seventy feet above the ground with a blazing furnace roasting them on one side and the Indians on the other, embracing every occasion as soon as any part of the body was exposed to pop at them. The Negro, in cautiously exposing himself, was killed, while Thompson received several balls in his feet, which he had projected beyond the wall. Nearly roasted to death and in a fit of desperation, Thompson seized the Kaggle gunpowder, which he had still preserved from the hands of the enemy, threw it into the blazing lighthouse, hoping to end his own sufferings and destroy the savages. In a few moments it exploded, but the walls were too strong to be shaken, and the explosion took place out of the lighthouse as though it had been fired from a gun. The effect of the concussion was to throw down the blazing materials level with the ground so as to produce a subsidence of the flames, and then Thompson was permitted to remain exempt from their influence. Before the day the Indians were off and Thompson being left alone was compelled to throw off the body of the Negro while strength was left him and before it putrefied. The explosion was heard on board a revenue cutter at some distance which immediately proceeded to the spot to ascertain what had occurred when they found the lighthouse burnt and the keeper above on top of it. Various expedients were resorted to to get him down, and finally a kite was made and raised with strong twine, and so maneuvered as to bring the line within his reach to which a rope of good size was next attached and alled up by Thompson. Finally a block which being fastened to the lighthouse and having a rope to it enabled the crew to haul up a couple of men by whose aid Thompson was safely landed on terra firma. The Indians had attempted to reach him by means of the lightning rod to which they had attached thongs of butt skin but could not succeed in getting more than halfway up. An incident in the war of Mexican independence. The following thrilling narrative is from a translation in Sharps Magazine. A captain in the Mexican insurgent army is giving an account of a meditated night attack upon a hacienda situated in the cordarias and occupied by a large force of Spanish soldiers. After a variety of details he continues, having arrived at the hacienda unperceived, thanks for the obscurity of a moonless night, we came to a halt under some large trees at some distance from the building, and I rode forward from my troop in order to reconnoiter the place. The hacienda so far as I could see and gliding across formed a huge massive parallelogram strengthened by enormous buttresses of hewn stone. Along this chasm the walls of the hacienda almost formed the continuation of another perpendicular one, chiseled by nature herself in the rocks to the bottom of which the eye could not penetrate, for the mists, which incessantly boiled up from below, did not allow it to measure their awful depth. This place was known in the country by the name of the Voledero. I had explored all sides of the building except this, when I know not what scruple of military honor incited me to continue my ride along the ravine which protected the rear of the hacienda. Between the walls and the precipice there was a narrow pathway about six feet wide. By day the passage would have been dangerous, but by night it was a perilous enterprise. The walls of the farm took an extensive sweep, the path crept round their entire basement, and to follow it to the end in the darkness only two paces from the edge of a perpendicular chasm was no very easy task even for as practice a horseman as myself. Nevertheless I did not hesitate, but boldly urged my horse between the walls of the farmhouse and the abyss of the Voledero. I had got over half the distance without accident, when all of a sudden my horse nade aloud. This nade made me shudder. I had just reached a pass where the ground was but just wide enough for the four legs of a horse, and it was impossible to retrace my steps. Hello, I exclaimed aloud, at the risk of betraying myself, which was even less dangerous than encountering a horseman in front of me on such a road. This is a Christian passing along the ravine, keep back. It was too late. At that moment a man on horseback passed round one of the buttresses, which here and there obstructed this accursed pathway. He advanced toward me. I trembled in my saddle, my forehead bathed in a cold sweat. For the love of God can you not return? I exclaimed, terrified at the fearful situation in which we both were placed. Impossible! replied the horseman. I recommend my soul to God, to turn our horses round for want of room, to back them along the path we had traversed, or even to dismount from them. These were three impossibilities which placed us both in presence of a fearful doom. Between two horsemen so placed upon this fearful path, had they been father and son, one of them must inevitably have become the prey of the abyss. But a few seconds had passed, and we were already face to face the unknown and of myself. Our horses were head to head, and their nostrils dilated with terror, mingled together their fiery breathing. Both of us halted in a dead silence. Above was the smooth and lofty wall of the Hacienda. On the other side, but three feet distance from the wall, opened the horrible gulf. Was it an enemy I had before my eyes? The love of my country, which boiled at that period in my young bosom, led me to hope it was. Are you for Mexico and the insurgents? I exclaimed, in a moment of excitement, ready to spring upon the unknown horseman if he answered me in the negative. Mexico es ojente. That is my password, replied the cavalier. I am the Colonel Garduno. I am the Captain Castanos. Our acquaintance was of long standing, and, but for mutual agitation, we should have had no need to exchange our names. The Colonel had left us two days since, at the head of the detachment, which we supposed to be either prisoners or cut off, for he had not been seen to return to the camp. Well, Colonel, I exclaimed, I am sorry, you are not a Spaniard, for you perceive that one of us must yield the pathway to the other. Our horses had the bridle on their necks, and I put my hands to the holsters of my saddle to draw out my pistols. Oh, I see it so plainly, returned the Colonel, with alarming coolness, that I should already have blown out the brains of your horse, but for the fear, lest mine, in a moment of terror, should precipitate me with yourself to the bottom of the abyss. I remarked, in fact, that the Colonel already held his pistols and his ends. We both maintained almost profound silence. Our horses felt the danger like ourselves and remained as immovable as if their feet were nailed to the ground. My excitement had entirely subsided. What are we going to do? I demanded of the Colonel. Draw lots which of the two shall leap into the ravine. It was, in truth, the sole means of resolving the difficulty. There are, nevertheless, some precautions to take, said the Colonel. He who shall be condemned by the lot shall retire backward. It will be but a feeble chance of escape for him, I admit, but in short there is a chance, and especially one, in favor of the winner. You cling not to life, then, I cried out, terrified at the sang foie with which this proposition was put to me. I cling to life more than yourself, sharply replied the Colonel, for I have a mortal outrage to avenge. But the time is fast-lipping away. Are you ready to proceed to draw the last lottery of which one of us will ever exist? How will we to proceed to this drawing by lot? By means of the wet finger, like infants, or by head and tail, like the schoolboys? Both ways were impractical. Our hands imprudently stretched out over the heads of our frightened horses might cause them to give a fatal start. Should we toss up a piece of coin, the night was too dark to enable us to distinguish which side fell upward. The Colonel bethought him of an expedient of which I never should have dreamed. Listen to me, Captain, said the Colonel, to whom I had communicated my perplexities, I have another way. The terror which our horses feel makes them draw every moment a burning breath. The first of us, too, whose horse shall nay, wins, I exclaimed hastily. Not so shall be the loser. I know that you are a countryman, and as such you can do whatever you please with your horse. As to myself, who but last year wore a gown of a theological student, I fear your equestrian prowess. You may be able to make your horse nay. To hinder him from doing so is a very different matter. We waited in deep and anxious silence until the voice of one of our horses should break forth. The silence lasted for a minute, for an age. It was my horse who nayed the first. The Colonel gave no external manifestation of his joy, but no doubt he thanked God to the very bottom of his heart. You will allow me a minute to make my peace with heaven, I said, with falling voice. Will five minutes be sufficient? It will, I replied. The Colonel pulled out his watch. I addressed toward the heavens, brilliant with stars, which I thought I was looking to for the last time, an intense and burning prayer. It is time, said the Colonel. I answered nothing, and with a firm hand, gathered up the bridle of my horse, and drew it within my fingers, which were agitated by a nervous tremor. Yet one moment more, I said to the Colonel, for I have need of all my coolness to carry into execution the fearful maneuver which I am about to commence. Granted, replied Garduno. My education, as I have told you, had been in the country. My childhood, and part of my earliest youth, had almost been passed on horseback. I may say, without flattering myself, that if there was anyone in the world capable of executing this equestrian feat, it was myself. I rallied myself with an almost supernatural effort, and succeeded in recovering my entire self-possession in the very face of death. Taking it at the worst, I had already braved it too often to be any longer alarmed at it. From that instant I dared to hope afresh. As soon as my horse felt, for the first time since my encounter with the Colonel, the bit compressing his mouth, I perceived that he trembled beneath me. I strengthened myself firmly on my stirrups to make the terrified animal understand that his master no longer trembled. I held him up with bridle and the hams, as every good horseman does in a dangerous passage, and with the bridle, the body and the spur, together succeeded in backing him a few paces. His head was already a greater distance from that of the horse of the Colonel, who encouraged me all he could with his voice. This done I let the poor trembling brute, who obeyed me in spite of his terror, repose for a few moments and then recommenced the same maneuver. All in a sudden I felt his hind legs give way under me. A horrible shudder ran through my whole frame. I closed my eyes, as if about to roll to the bottom of the abyss, and I gave to my body a violent impulse on the side, next to the hacienda, the surface of which offered not a single projection, not a tuft of weeds, to check my descent. This sudden movement joined to the desperate struggles of my horse was the salvation of my life. He had sprung up again on his legs, which seemed ready to fall from under him, so desperately did I feel them tremble. I had succeeded in reaching between the brink of the precipice and the wall of the building, a spot some few inches broader. A few more would have enabled me to turn him round, but to attempt it here would have been fatal, and I dared not venture. I sought to resume my backward progress step by step. Twice the horse threw himself on his hind legs, and fell down upon the same spot. It was in vain to urge him anew, either with voice, bridle, or spur. The animal obstinately refused to take a single step in the rear. Nevertheless I did not feel my courage yet exhausted, for I had no desire to die. One last solitary chance of safety suddenly appeared to me, like a flash of light, and I resolved to employ it. Through the fastening of my boot and in reach of my hand was placed a sharp and keen knife, which I drew forth from its sheath. With my left hand I began caressing the mane of my horse, all the while letting him hear my voice. The poor animal replied to my caresses by a plaintive neighing. Then, not to alarm him abruptly, my hand followed, by little and little, the curve of his nervous neck, and finally rested upon the spot where the last of the vertebrae unites itself with the cranium. The horse trembled, but I calmed him with my voice. When I felt his very life, so to speak, palpitate in his brain beneath my fingers, and leaned over toward the wall, my feet gently slid from the stirrups, and with one vigorous blow I buried the pointed blade of my knife in the seat of the vital principle. The animal fell as if thunder struck without a single motion, and for myself, with my knees almost as high as my chin, I found myself a horseback across a corpse. I was saved. I uttered a triumphant cry, which was responded to by the colonel, and which the abyss re-echoed with a hollow sound, as if it felt that its prey had escaped from it. I quitted the saddle, sat down between the wall and the body of my horse, and vigorously pushed with my feet against the carcass of the wretched animal, which rolled down into the abyss. I then arose and cleared in a few bounds the distance which separated the place where I was from the plane, and under the irresistible reaction of the terror which I had long repressed, I sank into a swoon upon the ground. When I reopened my eyes, the colonel was by my side. End of Section 1 Section 2 of The Thriiling Adventures by Land and Sea by James O. Brayman This liverbox recording is in the public domain. Section 2 A Sketch from Life on the Ocean Carthagena lies in the parallel of ten degrees, twenty-six minutes north, and seventy-five degrees, thirty-eight minutes west longitude. The harbor is good, with an easy entrance. The city is strongly fortified by extensive and commanding fortifications and batteries, and I should suppose, if well garrisoned at manned, they would be perfectly able to repel any force which might be brought to bear against them. It was well known at this time that all the provinces of Spain had shaken off their allegiance to the mother country and declared themselves independent. Carthagena, the most prominent of the provinces, was a place of considerable commerce, and about this time a few men of war and a number of privateers were fitted out there. The Carthagena flag now presented a chance of gain to the cupidity of the avaricious and desperate, among whom was our commander, Captain S. As soon, therefore, as we had filled up our water and so forth, a proposition was made by him, to the Second Lieutenant and myself, to cruise under both flags, the American and Carthaginian, and this to be kept a profound secret from the crew until we had sailed from port. Of course, we rejected the proposition with disdain and told him the consequence of such a measure in the event of being taken by a man of war of any nation, that it was piracy to all intents and purposes, according to the law of nations. We refused to go out in the privateer, if he persisted in this most nefarious act, and we heard no more of it while we lay in port. In a few days we were ready for sea and sailed in company with our companion, her force being rather more than ours, but the vessel very inferior in point of sailing. While together we captured several small British schooners, the cargoes of which, together with some species, were divided between two privateers. Into one of the prizes we put all the prisoners, gave them plenty of water and provisions, and let them pursue their course. The remainder of the prizes were burned. We then parted company, and being short of water, ran in toward the land in order to ascertain if any could be procured. In approaching the shore the wind died away to a perfect calm, and at four p.m. a small schooner was seen inshore of us. As we had not steerage way upon our craft, of course it would be impossible to ascertain her character before dark. It was therefore determined by our commander to board her with the boats under cover of the night. This was a dangerous service, but there was no backing out. Volunteers being called for, I stepped forward, and very soon a sufficient number of men to man two boats offered their services to back me. Every disposition was made for the attack. The men were strongly armed, oars muffled, and a grappling placed in each boat. The bearings of the strange sail were taken, and night came on perfectly clear and cloudless. I took command of the expedition, the Second Lieutenant, having charge of one boat. The arrangement was to keep close together until we got side of the vessel. The Second Lieutenant was to board on the bow and eye on the quarter. We proceeded in the most profound silence. Nothing was heard, save now and then a slight splash of the oars in the water, and before we obtained side of the vessel I had sufficient time to reflect on this most perilous enterprise. My reflections were not of the most pleasant character, and I found myself inwardly shrinking when I was aroused by the voice of the bowman, saying, There she is, sir, two points to the starboard bow. There she lay, sure enough, with every sail hoisted, and a light was plainly seen, as we supposed from her deck, it being too high for her cabin windows. We now held the consultation, and saw no good reason to change the disposition of the attack, except that we agreed to board simultaneously. It may be well to observe here that any number of men on a vessel's deck in the night have double the advantage to repel borders, because they may secrete themselves in such a position as to fall upon an enemy unawares, and thereby cut them off with little difficulty. Being fully aware of this, I ordered the men, as soon as we had gained the deck of the schooner, to proceed with great caution, and keep close together till every hazard of the enterprise was ascertained. The boats now separated and pulled for their respective stations, observing the most profound silence. When we had reached within a few yards of the schooner, we lay upon our oars for some moments, but could neither hear nor see anything. We then pulled away cheerily, and the next minute were under her counter and grappled to her. Every man leaped on the deck without opposition. The other boat boarded nearly at the same moment, and we proceeded in a body with great caution to examine the decks. A large fire was in the caboose, and we soon ascertained that her deck was entirely deserted, and that she neither had any boat on deck nor to her stern. We then proceeded to examine the cabin, leaving an armed force on deck. The cabin, like the deck, being deserted, the mystery was easily unraveled, probably concluding that we should board them under cover of the night. They, no doubt, as soon as it was dark, took to their boats, and deserted the vessel. On the floor of the cabin was a part of an English ensign, and some papers which showed that she belonged to Jamaica. The little cargo on board consisted of Jamaica rum, sugar, fruit, and so forth. The breeze now springing up, and the privateer showing lights, we were enabled to get alongside of her in a couple of hours. A prize master and crew were put on board with orders to keep company. During the night, we ran along shore, and in the morning took on board the privateer the greater part of the prize's cargo. Being close in shore in the afternoon, we described a settlement of huts, and supposing that water might be obtained there, the two vessels were run in, and anchored about two miles distant from the beach. A proposition was made to me by Captain S. to get the water casks on board the prize schooner, and, as she drew a light draft of water, I was to run her in and anchor her near the beach, taking with me the two boats and twenty men. I observed to Captain S. that this was probably an Indian settlement, and it was well known that all the Indian tribes on the coast of Rio de La Hacha were exceedingly ferocious and said to be cannibals, and it was also well known that whosoever fell into their hands never escaped with their lives, so that it was necessary before any attempt was made to land that some of the Indian should be decoyed on board and detained as hostages for our safety. At the conclusion of this statement, a very illiberal allusion was thrown out by Captain S., and some doubts expressed in reference to my courage, he remarking that if I was afraid to undertake the expedition he would go himself. This was enough for me, I immediately resolved to proceed if I sacrifice my life in the attempt. The next morning twenty water casks were put on board the prize, together with the two boats and twenty men, well armed with muskets, pistols, and cutlasses with a supply of ammunition. I repaired on board, got the prize underway, ran in, and anchored about one hundred yards from the beach. The boats were got in readiness, and the men were well armed, and the water casks slung ready to proceed on shore. I had examined my own pistols narrowly that morning and had put them in complete order, and as I believed had taken every precaution for our future operations so as to prevent surprise. There were about a dozen ill-constructed huts or wigwams, but no spot of grass or shrub was visible to the eye, with the exception of here and there, the trunk of an old tree. One solitary Indian was seen stalking on the beach, and the whole scene presented the most wild and savage appearance, and, to my mind, argued very unfavorably. We pulled in with the casks in tow, seven men being in each boat, when, within a short distance of the beach, the boat's heads were put to seaward, when the Indian came abreast of us. Addressing him in Spanish, I inquired if water could be procured to which he replied in the affirmative. I then displayed to his view some gigaws and trinkets at which he appeared perfectly delighted, and with many signs and gestures invited me on shore. Thrusting my pistols into my belt and buckling on my cartridge box, I gave orders to the boat's crew that, in case they discovered anything like treachery or surprise, after I had gotten on shore to cut the water casks adrift and make the best of their way on board the prize. As soon as I had jumped on shore, I inquired if there were any livestock, such as fowls and so forth, to be had. Pointing to a hut about thirty yards from the boats, he said that the stock was there and invited me to go and see it. I hesitated, suspecting some treachery. However, after repeating my order to the boat's crews, I proceeded with the Indian, and, when within about half a dozen yards of the hut, at a preconcerted signal, as I supposed, as if by magic at least one hundred Indians rushed out with the rapidity of thought. I was knocked down, stripped of all my clothing, except an inside flannel shirt, tied hand and foot, and then taken and secured to the trunk of a large tree surrounded by about twenty squaws, as a guard, who, with the exception of two or three, bore a most wild and hideous look in their appearance. The capture of the boat's crews was simultaneous with my own, they being so much surprised and confounded at the stratagem of the Indians that they had had not the power or presence of mind to pull off. After they had secured our men, a number of them jumped into the boat, pulled off, and captured the prize without meeting with any resistance from those on board, they being only six in number. Her cable was then cut, and she was run on the beach, when they proceeded to dismantle her by cutting the sails from the bolt ropes and taking out what little cargo there was, consisting of Jamaica rum, sugar, and so forth. This being done, they led ropes on shore, when about one hundred of them hauled her up nearly high and dry. By this time the privateer had seen our disaster, stood boldly in, and anchored within less than gunshot of the beach. They then very foolishly opened a brisk cannonade, but every shot was spent in vain. This exasperated the Indians, and particularly the one who had taken possession of my pistols. Casting my eye round I saw him creeping toward me with one pistol presented, and when about five yards off he pulled the trigger. But as Providence had no doubt ordered it, the pistol snapped. At the same moment a shot from the privateer fell a few yards from us when the Indian rose upon his feet, cocked the pistol, and fired it at the privateer. Turning round with a most savage yell, he threw the pistol with great violence, which grazed my head, and then, with a large stick, beat and cut me until I was perfectly senseless. This was about ten o'clock, and I did not recover my consciousness until, as I supposed, about four o'clock in the afternoon. I perceived there were four squaws around me, one of whom, from her appearance, having on many gigaws and trinkets, was the wife of a chief. As soon as she discovered signs of returning consciousness, she presented me with a gourd, the contents of which appeared to be Indian meal mixed with water. She first drank and then gave it to me, and I can safely aver that I never drank any beverage before or since, which produced such relief. Night was now coming on, the privateer had got under way, and was standing off and on with a flag of crews flying at her mast head. The treacherous Indian, with whom I had first conversed, came, and with a malignant smile, gave me the dreadful intelligence that, at twelve o'clock that night, we were to be roasted and eaten. Accordingly, at sunset, I was unloosed and conducted by a band of about half a dozen savages to the spot where I found the remainder of our men firmly secured by having their hands tied behind them, their legs lashed together, and each man fastened to a stake that had been driven into the ground for that purpose. There was no possibility to elude the vigilance of the miscreants. As soon as night shut in, a large quantity of brushwood was filed around us, and nothing now was wanting but the fire to complete this horrible tragedy. Then the same malicious savage approached us once more, and with the deepest malignity taunted us with our coming fate. Having some knowledge of the Indian character, I summoned up all the fortitude of which I was capable, and in terms of defiance told him that twenty Indians would be sacrificed for each one of us sacrificed by him. I knew very well that it would not do to exhibit any signs of fear or cowardice, and having heard much of the cupidity of the Indian character, I offered the savage a large ransom if he would use his influence to procure our release. Here the conversation was abruptly broken off by a most hideous yell from a whole tribe, occasioned by their having taken large drafts of the rum, which now began to operate very sensibly upon them, and as it will be seen, operated very much to our advantage. This thirst for rum caused them to relax their vigilance, and we were left alone to pursue our reflections, which were not of the most enviable or pleasant character. A thousand melancholy thoughts rushed over my mind. Here I was, and in all probability, in a few hours I should be in eternity, and my death, one of the most horrible description. Oh, thought I, how many were the entreaties and arguments used by my friends to deter me from pursuing an avocation so full of hazard and peril. If I had taken their advice and acceded to their solicitations, in all probability I should at this time have been in the enjoyment of much happiness. I was aroused from this reverie by the most direful screams from the united voices of the whole tribe, they having drunk largely of the rum, and become so much intoxicated that a general fight ensued. Many of them lay stretched on the ground, with tomahawks deeply implanted in their skulls, and many others, as the common phrase is, were dead drunk. This was an exceedingly fortunate circumstance for us. With their senses benumbed, of course they had forgotten their avowal to roast us, or it may be the Indian to whom I proposed ransom had conferred with the others, and they, no doubt, agreed to spare our lives until the morning. It was a night, however, of pain and terror, as well as of the most anxious suspense, and when the morning dawn broke upon my vision I felt an indescribable emotion of gratitude, as I had fully made up my mind the night previous that long before this time I should have been sleeping the sleep of death. It was a pitiable sight, when the morning light appeared, to see twenty human beings stripped naked, with their bodies cut and lacerated, and the blood issuing from their wounds. With their hands and feet tied, and their bodies fastened to stakes, with brushwood piled around them, expecting every moment to be their last. My feelings on this occasion can be better imagined, and then described. Suffice it to say that I had given up all hopes of escape, and gloomily resigned myself to death. When the fumes of the liquor had, in some degree, worn off from the benumbed senses of the savages, they arose and approached us, and for the first time the wily Indian informed me that the tribe had agreed to ransom us. They then cast off the lashings from our bodies and feet, and with our hands still secure, drove us before them to the beach. Then, another difficulty arose, the privateer was out of sight, and the Indians became furious. To satiate their hellish malice, they obliged us to run on the beach, while they let fly their poisoned arrows after us. For my own part, my limbs were so benumbed that I could scarcely walk, and I firmly resolved to stand still and take the worst of it, which was the best plan I could have adopted, for when they perceived that I exhibited no signs of fear, not a single arrow was discharged at me. Fortunately, before they grew weary of this sport, to my great joy the privateer hoved in sight. She stood boldly in with the flag of truce flying, and the savages consented to let one man of their own choosing go off in the boat to procure the stipulated ransom. The boat returned, loaded with articles of various descriptions, and two of our men were released. The boat kept flying to and from the privateer, bringing such articles as they demanded, until all were released except myself. Here it may be proper to observe that the mulatto man, who had been selected by the Indians, performed all this duty himself, not one of the privateers' crew daring to hazard their lives with him in the boat. I then was left alone, and for my release they required a double ransom. I began now seriously to think that they intended to detain me altogether. My mulatto friend, however, pledged himself that he would never leave me. Again for the last time he sculled the boat off. She quickly returned with a larger amount of articles than previously. It was a moment of the deepest anxiety, for there had now arrived from the interior another tribe, apparently superior in point of numbers, and elated with the booty which had been obtained. They demanded a share and expressed a determination to detain me for a larger ransom. These demands were refused, and a conflict ensued of the most frightful and terrific character. Tomahawk's knives and arrows were used indiscriminately, and many an Indian fell in that bloody contest. The Tomahawks were thrown with the swiftness of arrows, and were generally buried in the skull or the breast. And whenever two came in contact with the famous Indian hug, the strife was soon over with either one or the other, by one plunging the deadly knife up to the hilt in the body of his opponent. Nor were the poisoned arrows of less swift execution, for wherever they struck the wretched victim was quickly in eternity. I shall never forget the frightful barbarity of that hour. Although years have elapsed since its occurrence, still the whole scene in imagination is before me. The savage yell of the Warhawk and the direful screams of the squaws still ring afresh in my ears. In the height of this conflict a tall Indian chief, who I knew belonged to the same tribe with the young squaw, who gave me the drink, came down to the beach where I was. The boat had been discharged and was lying with her head off. At a signal given by the squaw to the chief, he caught me in his arms with as much ease as if I had been a child, waited to the boat, threw me in, and then with the most expressive gesture urged us off. Fortunately there were two oars in the boat, and feeble as I was, I threw all the remaining strength I had to the oar. It was the last effort, as life or death, hung upon the next fifteen minutes. Disappointed of a share of the booty, the savages were frantic with rage, especially when they saw I had eluded their grasp. Rushing to the beach, about a dozen, threw themselves into the other boat, which had been captured, and pulled after us, but fortunately in their hurry they had forgotten the muskets, and being unacquainted with the method of rowing, of course they made but little progress, which enabled us to increase our distance. The privateer, having narrowly watched all these movements, and seeing our imminent danger, stood boldly on toward the beach, and in the next five minutes she lay between us and the Indians, discharging a heavy fire of musketry among them. Such was the high excitement of my feelings that I scarcely recollected how I gained the privateer's deck, but I was saved nevertheless, though I was weak with the loss of blood and savage treatment, my limbs benumbed, and a body scorched with the piercing rays of the sun, the whole scene rushing through my mind with the celerity of electricity. It unmanned and quite overpowered me. I fainted and fell senseless on the deck. The usual restoratives and care were administered, and I soon recovered from the effects of my capture. Some of the others were not so fortunate. Two of them especially were cut in a shocking manner, and the others were so dreadfully beaten and mangled by clubs that the greatest care was necessary to save their lives. End of Section 2 Section 3 of Thirling Adventures by Land and Sea by James O'Breyman This LiberVox recording is in the public domain. Section 3 Escape from Shipwreck from Life on the Ocean Received orders this day to proceed to London with the ship, and as the easterly gale abated and the wind hauled round southward and westward, we got under way, stood out a fall-mouthed harbor, and proceeded up the British Channel. At sunset it commenced to rain, and the weather was thick and cloudy. The different lights were seen as far as a Bill of Portland. At midnight lost sight of the land, and it blew a gale from off the French coast, close reefed the topsoils, and steered a course so as to keep in mid-channel. At daybreak the ship was judged to be off beachy head, the weather being so thick, the land could not be seen. The foreign miz and topsoils were now furrowed and the ship hoved too. The rain began now to fall in torrents, and the heavy dense black clouds rose with fearful rapidity from the northward over the English coast, when suddenly the wind shifted from the southwest to the north and blew a hurricane. The mist and fog cleared away, and to our utter astonishment we found ourselves on a lee shore on the coast of France off Boulogne Heights. The gale was so violent that no more sail could be made. The ship was so exceedingly crank that when she left up on a wind her bulwarks were under water. As she would not stay, the only alternative was to wear. Of course, with this evolution we lost ground, and consequently were driven nearer every moment towards the awful strand of rocks. The scene was now terrific. Many vessels were in sight, two of which we saw dashed on the rocks. With the tremendous roar of the breakers and the howling of the tempest and the heavy seas, which broke as high as the four-yard, death appeared inevitable. There was only one hope left, and that was that should the tide change and take us under our lee beam, it might possibly set us off on the Nine Fathom Bank, which is situated at a distance of twelve miles north-northwest off Boulogne Harbor. On the event of reaching this bank, the safety of the ship and lives of the crew depended, as it was determined there to try the anchors, for there was no possibility of keeping offshore more than two hours if the gale continued. We were now on the larbert tack, and for the last half hour it was perceived that the tide had turned and was setting to the northward. This was our last and only chance, for the rocks were not more than half a mile under our lee, and as it was necessary to get the ship's head round on the starboard tack, which could only be done by wearing, it was certain that much ground would be lost by that evolution. The anchors were got ready, long ranges of cables were hauled on deck, and the ends were clenched to the main-must below. This being done, the axes were at hand to cut away the masts. Captain G. was an old experienced seaman, and I never saw, before or since, more coolness, judgment, and seamanship than were displayed by him on this trying occasion. In this perilous trial, the most intense anxiety was manifested by the crew, and then was heard the deep-toned voice of Captain G, rising above the bellowing storm, commanding silence. Take the wheel, said he to me, and then followed the orders in quick succession. Laughed and demand the braces, see everything clear forward to worship, steady, easer, shiver away the main topsoil, put your helm up, all in the weather or bases, gather in the after-yogs. The ship was now running before the wind, for a few moments directly for the rocks, the situation and scene were truly awful, for she was not more than three hundred yards from the breakers. I turned my head aside, being at the helm, to avoid the terrific sight, and silently awaited the crisis. I was roused at this moment by Captain G, who shouted, she loves my boys, brace the manured sharp up, all in the larbored fore braces, down with the four-tack lads, and haul up the sheet, right the helm, steady, so haul taught the weather bases and belay all. These orders were given and executed in quick succession. The ship was now on the starboard tack, plunging bows under at every pitch. Casting a fitful glance over my shoulder, I saw that we were apparently to leeward of the rocks. Very soon, however, it was quite perceptible that the tide had taken her on the lee-beam, and was setting her offshore. The gloom began now to wear away, although it was doubtful whether we should be able to reach the bank, and if successful whether the anchors would hold. Orders were given to lay aloft and send down the top gallant yards, mast, and so forth. The helm was relieved, and I sprung into the main rigging, the chief mate going up forward. With much difficulty I reached the main topmost cross-trees, and when there it was almost impossible to work, for the ship lay over at an angle of at least forty-five degrees, and I found myself swinging, not perpendicularly, over the ship's deck, but at least thirty feet from it. It was no time, however, for gazing. The yard rope was stoppered out on the quarter of the yard. The sheets, glue lines, and bunt lines cast off, and the shift slackened, and then simultaneously, from both mast heads, the cry was heard, sway away. The peril cut, the yard was quickly topped and unrigged, and then lowered away on deck. The next duty to be performed was sending down the top gallant mast. After much difficulty and hard work, this was also accomplished, and although I felt some pride in the performance of a dangerous service, yet on this occasion I was not a little pleased when I reached the deck in safety. By this time we had gained four miles offshore, and it was evident that the soundings indicated our approach to the bank. Tackles were rove and stretched along forward of the windlass, as well as deck stoppers hooked on to the ring bolts for an aft. Loose the four topsoil, shouting Captain G., we must reach this bank before the tide turns, or by morning there will not be left a timberhead of this ship, nor one of us, to tell the sad tale of our disaster. The topsoil was loosed and sad, and the ship groaned heavily under the immense pressure of canvass. Her lee rail was under water, and every moment it was expected that the top mast, or the canvass, should yield. The deep sea-led was taken forward in hove. When the line reached the after-part of the main channels, the seamen's voice rose high in the air. By the deep nine, it was three o'clock. Glew up and furrowed the four topsoil, shouted Captain G., the topsoil furrowed of itself. For the moment the weather sheet was started, it blew away from the bolt rope. The four sail was immediately hauled up and furrowed. Relieved from the great pressure of canvass, and having now nothing on her, except the main topsoil and four topmost day sail, she rowed more upright. The main topsoil was clued up and fortunately saved. The mizzen stay sail was set. Stand by to cut away the stoppers of the best bower anchor, to let it go, stalk and fluke, said Captain G., man, the four topmost stay sail down haul, put your helm down, haul down the stay sail. This was done, and the ship came up handsomely, head to wind. See, the cable-tears all clear. What water is there, said Captain G., the ladsmen sang out in a clear voice, and a half-eight. By this time the ship had lost her way. Are you all clear forward there? Aye-aye, sir, was the reply. Stream the buoy, and let go the anchor, shouted Captain G., the order was executed as rapidly as it was given. The anchor was on the bottom and already had fifty fathoms of cable run out, making the windless smoke. And although the cable was weather-bitted and every effort was made with the deck-stoppers and tackles to check her, all was fruitless. Ninety fathoms of cable had run out. Stand by to let go the labored anchor, said Captain G., cheerly men, let go. In the same breath he shouted, hold on, for just then there was a lull and having run out the best bower cable nearly to the better end she brought up. No time was now lost in getting service on the cable to prevent its chafing. She was now writing to a single anchor of two thousand weight with one hundred fathoms of a seventeen-inch amp cable. The sea rolled heavily and broke in upon the deck for an aft. The lower yards were got down, the topsoil yards pointed to the wind. And as the tide had now turned, the ship rode without any strain on her cable because it tended broad on the beam. The next morning presented a dismal scene, for there were more than fifty sail inshore of us, some of whom succeeded in reaching the bank, and anchored with loss of sail, stopmast, and so forth. Many others were dashed upon the rocks and not a soul was left to tell the tale of their destruction. I shall not forget that on the second day a Dutch galeat was driven in to leeward of us, and although by carrying on a tremendous press of canvas she succeeded in keeping off shore until five p.m., yet at sunset she disappeared and was seen no more. After our arrival in London we learned that this unfortunate vessel was driven on the rocks and every soul on board perished. The gale continued four days at the expiration of which time it broke. At midnight the wind hauled round to the eastward and the weather became so excessively cold that although we commenced heaving in the cable at five a.m., yet we did not get the anchor until nine that night. Close reefed topsoles were set on the ship and we stood over to the English coast and anchor to the westward of Dungeonus. During the whole period of this gale, which lasted four days, Captain G. never for a moment left the deck, and although well advanced in years, yet his iron constitution enabled him to overcome the calls of nature for rest, and notwithstanding the situation of the ship was perhaps more critical than many of those less fortunate vessels which stranded upon the rocks, yet his coolness and the seaman-like manner with which the ship was handled no doubt were the means of our being saved. The Hunter's Wife Thomas Cooper was a fine specimen of the North American Trapper, slightly but powerfully made with a hearty, weather-beaten, yet handsome face, strong, indefatigable, and a cracked shot he was admirably adapted for a hunter's life. For many years he knew not what it was to have a home, but lived like the beasts he hunted, wandering from one part of the country to another in pursuit of game. All who knew Tom were much surprised when he came with a pretty young wife to settle within three miles of a planter's farm. Many pitted the poor young creature who would have to lead such a solitary life, while others said, well, she was fool enough to marry him, it was her own lookout. For nearly four months Tom remained at home, and employed his time in making the old hut he had fixed on for their residence more comfortable. He cleared and tilled a small spot of land around it, and Susan began to hope that for her sake he would settle down quietly as a squatter. But these visions of happiness were soon dispelled, for as soon as this work was finished he recommenced his old erratic mode of life, and was often absent for weeks together, leaving his wife alone, yet not unprotected, for since his marriage old Nero, a favorite hound, was always left at home as her guardian. He was a noble dog, a cross between the old Scottish deer hound and the blood hound, and would hunt an Indian as well as a deer or bear, which Tom said was a proof they engines was a sort of marmot. Why should the brute beast take to hun him, natural like him, that took no notice of white men? One clear cold morning, about two years after their marriage, Susan was awakened by a loud crash, immediately succeeded by Nero's deep baying. She recollected that she had shot him in the house as usual the night before. Supposing he had winded some solitary wolf or bear, prowling around the hut, and effected his escape, she we took little notice of the circumstance. But a few moments after came a shrill, wild cry, which made her blood run cold. To spring from her bed, throw on her clothes, and rush from the hut was the work of a minute. She no longer doubted what the hound was in pursuit of. Fearful thoughts shot through her brain. She called wildly on Nero, and to her joy he came dashing through the thick underwood. As the dog drew near, she saw that he galloped heavily, and carried in his mouth some large dark creature. Her brain reeled, she felt a cold and sickly shudder dart through her limbs. But Susan was a hunter's daughter, and all her life had been accustomed to witness scenes of danger and of horror, and in this school had learned to subdue the natural timidity of her character. With a powerful effort she recovered herself, just as Nero dropped at her feet a little Indian child, apparently between three and four years old. She bent down over him, but there was no sound or motion. She placed her hand on his little naked chest. The heart within had ceased to beat. He was dead. The deep marks of the dog's fangs were visible on the neck, but the body was untorn. Old Nero stood, with his large bright eyes, fixed on the face of his mistress, fawning on her, as if he expected to be praised for what he had done, and seemed to wonder why she looked so terrified. But Susan spurned him from her, and the fierce animal, who would have pulled down an Indian as he would a deer, crouched humbly at the young woman's feet. Susan carried the little body gently in her arms to the hut and laid it on her own bed. Her first impulse was to seize the loaded rifle that hung over the fireplace and shoot the hound, and yet she felt she could not do it, for in the lone life she led the faithful animal seemed like a deer and valued friend who loved and watched over her, as if aware of the precious charge entrusted to him. She thought also of what her husband would say when, on his return, he should find his old companion dead. Susan had never seen Tom aroused. To her he had ever shown nothing but kindness, yet she feared as well as loved him, for there was a fire in those dark eyes which told of deep, wild passions hidden in his breast, and she knew that the lives of a whole tribe of Indians would be light in the balance against that of his favorite hound. Having securely fastened up Nero, Susan, with a heavy heart, proceeded to examine the ground around the hut. In several places she observed the impression of a small moccasin foot, but not a child's. The tracks were deeply marked, unlike the usual light elastic tread of an Indian. From this circumstance Susan easily inferred that the woman had been carrying her child when attacked by the dog. There was nothing to show why she had come so near the hut. Most probably the hopes of some petty plunder had been the inducement. Susan did not dare to wander far from home, fearing a band of Indians might be in the neighborhood. She returned sorrowfully to the hut and employed herself in blocking up the window, or rather the hole where the window had been, for the powerful hound had in his leap dashed out the entire frame and shattered it to pieces. When this was finished Susan dug a grave and in it laid the little Indian boy. She made it close to the hut, for she could not bear that wolves should devour those delicate limbs, and she knew that there it would be safe. The next day Tom returned. He had been very unsuccessful and intended setting out again in a few days in a different direction. Susan, he said, when he heard her sad story, I wish you'd left the child where the dog killed him. The squalls high-sartened to come back as he came for the body, and his a pity to poor critters should be disappointed. Besides the Indians will be not certain to put it down to us, whereas if so be it as they found the body upon the spot, maybe they'd understand as was an accident like for their uncommon cunning barmen, although they ain't got sense like Christians. Why do you think the poor woman came here, said Susan? I never knew an Indian squaw so near the hut before. She fancied a dark shadow flitted across her husband's brow. He made no reply, and on repeating the question, he said angrily, why should I know? Tis as well to ask for a bear's reason as an engines. Tom only stayed at home long enough to mend the broken window and plant a small spot of Indian corn, and then again set out, telling Susan not to expect him home in less than a month. If that squall comes this way again, he said, as maybe she will, just put out any pictures you've got for the poor critter, though maybe she won't come for the engines be uncommon, scary. Susan wondered at his taking an interest in the woman, and often thought of that dark look she had noticed, and of Tom's unwillingness to speak on the subject. She never knew that on his last hunting expedition, when hiding some skins which he intended to fetch on his return, he had observed an Indian watching him, and had shot him with as little mercy as he would have shown to a wolf. On Tom's return to the spot, the body was gone, and in the soft, damp soil was the mark of an Indian's squaw's foot, and by its side a little child. He was sorry then for the deed he had done. He thought of the grief of the poor widow, and how it would be possible for her to live until she could reach her tribe, who were far, far distant at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and now to feel that through his means, too, she had lost her child, put thoughts into his mind that had never before found a place there. He thought that one God had formed the red man as well as the white, of the souls of the many Indians hurried into eternity by his unerring rifle, and they perhaps were more fitted for their happy hunting grounds than he for the white man's heaven. In this state of mind every word his wife had said to him seemed a reproach, and he was glad again to be alone in the forest with his rifle and his hounds. The afternoon of the third day after Tom's departure, as Susan was sitting at work, she heard something scratching and whining at the door. Nero, who was by her side, event no signs of anger, but ran to the door, showing his white teeth, as was his custom, went pleased. Susan unbarred it when, to her astonishment, the two deer hounds her husband had taken with him walked into the hut, looking weary and soiled. At first she thought Tom might have killed a deer not far from home, and had brought her a fresh supply of venison. But no one was there. She rushed from the hut, and soon, breathless and terrified, reached the squatter's cabin. John Wilton and his three sons were just returned from the clearings when Susan ran into their comfortable kitchen. Her long black hair streaming on her shoulders and her wild and bloodshot eyes gave her the appearance of a maniac. In a few unconnected words she explained to them the cause of her terror, and implored them to set off immediately in search of her husband. It was in vain, they told her, of the uselessness of going at that time, of the impossibility of following a trail in the dark. She said she would go herself. She felt sure of finding him, and at last they were obliged to use force to prevent her leaving the house. The next morning, at daybreak, Wilton and his two sons were mounted and ready to set out, intending to take Nero with them. But nothing could induce him to leave his mistress. He resisted passively for some time, until one of the young men attempted to pass a rope around his neck to drag him away. Then his forbearance vanished, and he sprang upon his tormentor, threw him down, and would distrangle him if Susan had not been present. Finding it impossible to make Nero accompany them, they left without him, but had not proceeded many miles before he and his mistress were at their side. They begged Susan to return, told her of the inconvenience she would be to them. It was no avail. She had but one answer. I am a hunter's daughter and a hunter's wife. She told them that, knowing how useful Nero would be to them in their search, she had secretly taken a horse and followed them. The party rode first to Tom Cooper's hut, and there, having dismounted, leading their horses through the forest, followed the trail as only men long accustomed to savage life can do. At night they lay on the ground, covered with their thick-bear skin cloaks. For Susan only they heaped a bed of dried leaves, but she refused to occupy it, saying it was her duty to bear the same hardships they did. Ever since their departure she had shown no sign of sorrow. Although slight and delicately formed, she never appeared fatigued. Her whole soul was absorbed in one longing desire to find her husband's body, for from the first she had abandoned the hope of ever again seeing him in life. This desire supported her through everything. Early the next morning they were on the trail. About noon, as they were crossing a small brook, the hound suddenly dashed away from them and was lost in the thicket. At first they fancied they might have crossed the track of a deer but a long mournful howl soon told the sad truth. For not far from the brook lay the faithful dog on the dead body of his master, which was pierced to the heart by an Indian arrow. The murderer had apparently been afraid to approach on account of the dogs, for the body was left as it had fallen, not even the rifle was gone. No sign of Indians could be discovered save one small footprint which was instantly pronounced to be that of a squaw. Susan showed no grief at the side of the body. She maintained the same forced calmness and seemed comforted that it was found. Old Wilton stayed with her to remove all that now remained of her darling husband, and his two sons set out on the trail which soon led them into the open prairie where it was easily traced through the tall thick grass. They continued writing all that afternoon and the next morning by daybreak were again on the track which they followed to the banks of a wide but shallow stream. There they saw the remains of a fire. One of the brothers thrust his hand among the ashes which were still warm. They crossed the river and in the soft sand on the opposite bank saw again the print of small moccasin footsteps. Here they were at a loss for the rank prairie grass had been consumed by one of those fearful fires so common in the prairies and in its stead grew short sweet herbage where even an Indian's eye could observe no trace. They were on the point of abandoning the pursuit when Richard, the younger of the two, called his brother's attention to Nero who had of his own accord left his mistress to accompany them as if he now understood what they were about. The hound was trotting to and fro with his nose to the ground as if endeavoring to pick out a cold scent. Edward laughed at his brother and pointed to the track of a deer that had come to drink at the river. At last he agreed to follow Nero who was now cantering slowly across the prairie. The pace gradually increased until on a spot where the grass had grown more luxuriously than elsewhere Nero threw up his nose gave a deep bay and started off at so furious a pace that although well mounted they had great difficulty in keeping up with him. He soon brought them to the borders of another forest where finding it impossible to take their horses further they tethered them to a tree and set off again on foot. They lost sight of the hound but still from time to time heard his loud baying far away. At last they fancied it sounded nearer instead of becoming less distinct and of this they were soon convinced. They still went on in the direction whence the sound proceeded until they saw Nero sitting with his fore paws against the trunk of a tree no longer mouthing like a well-trained hound but yelling like a fury. They looked up in the tree but could see nothing until at last Edward aspired a large hollow about halfway up the trunk. I was right you see he said after all it's nothing but a bear but we may as well shoot the brood that has given us so much trouble. They set to work immediately with their axes to fell the tree. It began to totter when a dark object they could not tell what in the dim twilight crawled from its place of concealment to the extremity of a branch and from thence sprung into the next tree. Snatching up their rifles they both fired together when to their astonishment instead of a bear a young Indian squaw with a wild yell fell to the ground. They ran to the spot where she lay motionless and carried her to the borders of the wood where they had that morning dismounted. Richard lifted her on to his horse and springing himself into the saddle carried the almost lifeless body before him. The poor creature never spoke. Several times they stopped thinking she was dead. Her pulse only told the spirit had not flown from its earthly tenement. When they reached the river which had been crossed by them before they washed the wounds and sprinkled water on her face. This appeared to revive her and when Richard again lifted her in his arms to place her on his horse he fancied he heard her mutter in Iroquois one word Ravanged. It was a strange sight those two powerful men tending so carefully the being they had a few hours before sought to slay and endeavoring to snatch the blood that flowed from wounds which they had made. Yet, so it was, it would have appeared to them a sin to leave the Indian woman to die. Yet they felt no remorse at having inflicted the wound and doubtless would have been better pleased had it been mortal. But they would not have murdered a wounded enemy, even an Indian warrior still less a squaw. The party continued their journey until midnight when they stopped to rest their jaded horses. Having wrapped the squaw in their bare skins they lay down themselves with no covering save the clothes they wore. They were in no want of provisions as not knowing when they might return they had taken a good supply of bread and dried venison not wishing to lose any precious time in seeking food while on the trail. The brandy still remaining in their flasks they preserved for the use of their captive. The evening of the following day they reached the trappers hut where they were not a little surprised to find Susan. She told them that although John Wilton had begged her to live with them she could not bear to leave the spot where everything reminded her of one to think of whom was now her only consolation and that while she had Nero she feared nothing. They needed not to tell their mournful tale. Susan already understood it too clearly. She begged them to leave the Indian woman with her. You have no one she said to tend and watch her as I can do besides it is not right that I should lay such a burden on you. Although unwilling to impose on her mind the painful task of nursing her husband's murderous they could not allow but that she was right and seeing how earnestly she desired it at last consented to leave the Indian woman with her. For many weeks Susan nursed her charge as tenderly as if it had been her sister. At first she lay almost motionless and rarely spoke then she grew delirious and raved wildly. Susan fortunately could not understand what she said but often turned shattering away when the Indian woman would strive to rise from her bed and move her arms as if drawing a bow or yell wildly and cower in terror beneath the clothes reacting in her delirium the fearful scenes through which she had passed. By degrees reason returned. She gradually got better but seemed restless and unhappy and could not bear the sight of Nero. The first proof of returning reason she had shown was a shriek of terror when he once accidentally followed his mistress into the room where she lay. One morning Susan missed her. She searched around the hut but she was gone without having taken farewell of her kind benefactress. A few years after Susan Cooper no longer pretty Susan for time and grief had done their work heard late one night a hurried knock which was repeated several times before she could open the door each time more loudly than before. She called to ask who it was at that late hour of night. A few hurried words in Iroquois was the reply and Susan congratulated herself on having spoken before unbarring the door but on listening again she distinctly heard the same voice say quick quick and recognized it as the Indian woman's voice she had nursed. The door was instantly opened when the squall rushed into the hut seized Susan by the arm and made signs to her to come away. She was too much excited to remember then the few words of English she had picked up when living with the white woman. Expressing her meaning by gestures with a clearness peculiar to the Indians she dragged rather than lead Susan from the hut. They had just reached the edge of the forest when the wild yells of the Indians sounded in their ears. Having gone with Susan a little way into the forest her guide left her. For nearly four hours she lay there half dead with cold and terror not daring to move from her place of concealment. She saw the flames of the dwelling where so many lonely hours had been passed rising above the trees and heard the shrill hoops of the retiring Indians. Nero who was lying by her side suddenly rose and gave a low growl. Silently a dark figure came gliding among the trees directly to the spot where she lay. She gave herself up for lost but it was the Indian woman who came to her and dropped at her feet a bag of money the remains of her late husband's savings. The grateful creature knew where it was kept and while the Indians were busy examining the rifles and other objects more interesting to them had carried it off unobserved. Waving her arm around to show that all was now quiet she pointed in the direction of Wilton's house and was again lost among the trees. Day was just breaking when Susan reached the squatter's cabin. Having heard the sad story Wilton and two of his sons started immediately for the spot. Nothing was to be seen as a heap of ashes. The party had apparently consisted of only three or four Indians but a powerful tribe being in the neighborhood they saw it would be too hazardous to follow them. From this time Susan lived with the Wilton's. She was as a daughter to the old man and a sister to his sons who often said that as far as they were concerned the Indians had never done a kindlier action than in burning down Susan Cooper's hut.