University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER V.

The Indians left the scene of their cruel rapacity,
traveling northward, chanting their monotonous war
song. After a ride of two miles, through tall weeds
and bushes, we left the bottom lands, and ascended
some bluffs, and soon after came to a creek, which was
easily forded, and where the Indians quenched their
thirst.

The hills beyond began to be more difficult to ascend,
and the gorges seemed fearfully deep, as we looked
into the black shadows unrelieved by the feeble light
of the stars.

In the darkness of our ride, I conceived a plan for
the escape of little Mary.

I whispered in her childish ear, "Mary, we are only
a few miles from our camp, and the stream we have
crossed you can easily wade through. I have dropped
letters on the way, you know, to guide our friends in
the direction we have taken; they will guide you back
again, and it may be your only chance of escape from

destruction. Drop gently down, and lie on the ground
for a little while, to avoid being seen; then retrace your
steps, and may God in mercy go with you. If I can,
I will follow you.".

The child, whose judgment was remarkable for her
age, readily acceded to this plan; her eye brightened
and her young heart throbbed as she thought of its
success.

Watching the opportunity, I dropped her gently,
carefully, and unobserved, to the ground, and she lay
there, while the Indians pursued their way, unconscious
of their loss.

To portray my feelings upon this separation would
be impossible. The agony I suffered was indescribable.
I was firmly convinced that my course was wise—that
I had given her the only chance of escape within my
power; yet the terrible uncertainty of what her fate
might be in the way before her, was almost unbearable.
I continued to think of it so deeply that at last I
grew desperate, and resolved to follow her at every
risk. Accordingly, watching an opportunity, I, too
slipped to the ground under the friendly cover of
night, and the horse went on without its rider.

My plan was not successful. My flight was soon
discovered, and the Indian wheeled around and rode
back in my pursuit. Crouching in the undergrowth I
might have escaped in the darkness, were it not for
their cunning. Forming in a line of forty or fifty

abreast, they actually covered the ground as they rode
past me.

The horses themselves were thus led to betray me,
for, being frightened at my crouching form, they
stopped and reared, thus informing them of my hiding-place.

With great presence of mind I arose the moment I
found myself discovered, and relating my story, the
invention of an instant, I succeeded partially in allaying
their anger.

I told them the child had fallen asleep and dropped
from the horse; that I had endeavored to call their
attention to it, but in vain; and, fearing I would be
unable to find her if we rode further, I had jumped
down and attempted the search alone.

The Indians used great violence toward me, assuring
me that if any further attempts were made to
escape, my punishment would be accordingly.

They then promised to send a party out in search
of the child when it became light.

Poor little Mary! alone in the wilderness, a little,
helpless child; who can portray her terror!

With faith to trust, and courage to dare, that little,
trembling form through the long hours of the night
kept watch.

The lonely cry of the night-bird had no fear in its
melancholy scream for the little wanderer who crouched
amid the prairie grass. The baying of the gray wolf,

as he passed the lonely watcher, might startle, but
could not drive the faith from her heart.

Surely God is just, and angels will guide the faltering
feet to friends and home. Innocent of wrong,
how could she but trust that the unseen hands of
spirits would guide her from the surrounding perils!