University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.
PERILS OF OUR HERO.

It was with the greatest difficulty that Edward Allen succeeded
in mounting his beast at the enclosure; and when he had done so
he found he had no control over him whatever. All his friends
were now in advance of him; and fortunately the fiery animal took
the same course as the rest—otherwise he might have been borne
into the heart of the village, in spite of any efforts on his part to ride
in a contrary direction.

On dashed the swift-footed animal, across the little stream before
mentioned, up a small hill on the opposite side, down into a deep
dingle, through a small patch of wood, through a dense copse, over
a rough, stony opening, and still Edward maintained an erect position
on his back, grasping the long mane tightly in one hand, and
the single rein of the halter in the other. So far, all had gone
well; and, although the hindmost of the party, he was near enough
to the next in advance to occasionally catch a glimpse of rider and
horse in the dim light.

Suddenly his fiery courser gave a loud snort, and springing to
the right, threw Edward clean from his back, who, on letting go
his hold from the main, had sufficient forethought to grasp the
halter with both hands, and by this means, although swung to a
considerable distance, alighted on his feet without injury. The impatient

animal, once clear of his rider, now sought to be free of all
incumbrance; and in his efforts to get away, he dragged Edward
several yards, through bushes and over stones, which tore his
clothes and skin, and bruised him not a little. But with the tenacity
of a drowning man to a rope, he clung to the halter rein, and
at last had the good fortune to find his beast again approachable;
though it was sometime after this before he was able to remount
him. But when this was finally effected, he found, to his horror,
by the yells of the savages, that a party had already got between
him and his friends, to follow whom now, would be to rush on
certain destruction.

What was to be done? Set off in what direction he might, the
result was almost certain to be the same, death, or, what was even
more to be dreaded, captivity. Oh! it was an agonizing reflection,
that just at the moment when his heart was bounding with
hope and joy, at the thought of his liberation—of the liberation
of her he loved—of the happiness for both there would be in another
meeting—that just at such a moment, we say, an overpowering
calamity should suddenly come upon him, to plunge him again in
the lowest depths of despair. He shuddered as he thought, and
grew sick at heart, and beads of cold perspiration, wrung forth by
mental anguish, stood upon his pallid features.

“But while there is life, there is hope,” he reasoned; and again
urging his beast forward, he sought not to guide him, but offering
up a short prayer for deliverance, consigned himself to the care of
an ever-watchful and over-ruling Providence.

The horse, finding himself at liberty to choose his own course,
no longer followed the one he had been pursuing, but turning more
to the left, bore straight down toward the Miami, and soon gained
its bank, at a point about half way between the village and the
ford crossed by the friends of Edward.

The party of Indians closest in pursuit of the fugitives, had already
passed this place; and their shouts of fury, and demoniac
yells, gradually growing less and less distinct, relieved our hero of
any apprehension concerning them; but unfortunately for him,
there was still another party coming from the town, whose wild,
discordant speeches, together with the loud clatter of horses' hoofs,
and the snorting of the animals, put him in mortal fear; for although
he could not see them, owing to an intervening ridge, he
knew they were close upon him, and that his chances of escape
were now reduced to the very smallest number—more especially
as his steed, eager to join his companions, instantly wheeled, and
plunged forward up the acclivity, thus bearing him directly into
the hands of his foe. In vain Edward tried to check him or
change his course; he was completely unmanageable—beyond all
control—and reckless of what might be the consequences, since
he now believed himself irrevocably doomed, he leaped from his

back, and was thrown violently upon the rough ground, and rendered
almost senseless by the shock. The next moment the riderless
steed, still rushing forward, came in fearful collision with the
foremost one of the approaching party, and both horses went down
as if struck by a cannon ball, crushing in their fall the leg of the
Indian leader, who uttered one loud yell of agony, and called upon
his friends for help.

Great was the confusion this accident occasioned; and several
of the savages instantly stopped their horses, and springing to the
ground, ran forward to ascertain what had happened. But as soon
as the truth was known, the majority remounted and rode on, so
eager were they to overtake the fugitives. Some three or four,
however, remained to assist their injured companion; and getting
him from under one animal, they carefully placed him on the back
of another. Then one of them mounting behind, to return with
him to the village, rode slowly away in that direction, while the
others prepared to continue their course up the river.

All this was witnessed by our hero, who, not more than six paces
distant, still remained on the ground, exactly as he had fallen,
scarcely daring to breathe, lest he should be discovered; and he
was already congratulating himself upon his fortunate, but very
narrow escape, when a loud ejaculation, as if the speaker had suddenly
made some new and important discovery, caused a thrill of
terror to run through his whole system.

And Edward had good reason to tremble at that ejaculation,
although uttered in a tongue unknown to him; for an important discovery
had been made, and one which would have transpired much
sooner; had the savages been as observing as usual, or less eager
to set forward. The presence of the horse ridden by Edward at
such a place, did not excite suspicion—for it was well known
that all had been let loose, and were running about in every direction—but
when, by the merest accident, the truth was disclosed,
that on this beast was a halter, the idea suddenly flashed across the
mind of the savage, that the animal must have had a rider; and
whether that rider was a white man or a red, was a very important
matter. The discovery, in consequence, was instantly made
known to his companions, by the ejaculation already referred to,
and a hurried consultation was the result. Whether the savages
really believed the horse had borne a white man, who was now
secreted at no great distance, or whether they acted rather from
that long and cautious habit which makes the most apparently trivial
things of grave importance, certain it is, that no sooner had
they finished their brief colloquy, than all set about beating around
in the bushes, in every direction.

Scarcely three minutes elapsed after this search began, ere one
of the party approached so close to Edward, that he felt certain
exposure must follow; and resolved to make one more desperate

effort for his life, he firmly grasped the haft of his knife—one of
the weapons given him by Posetha, and which he still retained—
and springing suddenly to his feet, buried it to the hilt in the breast
of the astonished savage, who, in the very act of uttering a cry of
surprise, quickly changed it to a shriek of agony, and sunk down
at his feet. There was no time to be lost now; and leaping over
the prostrate body, Edward made for the nearest horse.

He reached the animal a few feet in advance of the other savages,
who, hearing the cry of their companion, at once divining
the cause, bounded after him, making the woods ring with their
yells of fury. Catching the halter-rein in his hand, Edward
vaulted upon the back of the beast, and struck him a smart blow
with the end of the rope. With a fearful plunge forward, away
rushed the furious quadruped, and in less time than it takes us to
tell it, some twenty or thirty yards intervened between our hero and
his pursuers.

But short space had Edward for congratulation; for the next
moment, as it were, the agile savages were themselves mounted,
and thundering after him, uttering the most terrible war-whoops
and appalling yells. And as if Fortune, too, had determined to see
how long she could toss him about between life and death, the horse
of Edward now shaped his course toward the village; and in spite
of all he could do to turn him aside, the willful beast still held on,
bearing him with frightful velocity right into the very hands of his
enemies, who, afoot and on horse, were swarming about in every
direction, like bees when their hive is improperly disturbed. On
dashed Edward—lashing his horse, since he could not control him,
into ungovernable fury—and on came his blood-thirsty pursuers,
still yelling as wildly as ever, but unable to gain upon him a single
foot.

“Oh!” thought Edward, as he glanced behind him, “if I could
but manage my beast as the savages do theirs, I might even yet
escape.”

But for some reason he could not do this; and the horse that
was ever guided by a mere word, or the shake of the halter-rein,
when ridden by an Indian who understood him, and whom he
understood, was now too headstrong to obey any thing but his own
will. In consequence of this, Edward was borne right in among
the yelling and howling crew, who had come out of their town, on
the northern side, to gather early news concerning the pursuit; and
suddenly their discordant and meaningless yells were changed to
the universal cry of, “The Shemanoe! the Shemanoe!” while more
than a hundred warriors sprang forward to intercept him.

Knowing his doom would be death in its most terrible form, if
taken prisoner again, Edward, with not a single hope, beyond that
of provoking, by his daring, a speedy terminus to his life, still
lashed his horse furiously forward, reckless of the blows aimed at

his person on all sides, and actually rode down several of his
opposers.

But this triumph over numbers was necessarily of short duration;
and the grasping of the halter by a tremendous savage, who instantly
raised his hatchet for the purpose of hurling it at the head of our
hero, seemed likely to put an end to all further strife; but here
again capricious Fortune changed in favor of Edward; for the
horse, mistaking the intention of the Indian, and thinking the blow
meant for him, reared and wheeled so suddenly, as to loose the hold
of the warrior, just as the tomahawk was sped on its bloody mission,
which thereby missed its aim by a bare inch. By this sudden turn
of the horse, his head was brought in the direction of the Miami,
distant not more than eight or ten rods; and the thought suddenly
occurred to Edward, of making his last desperate effort for speedy
death, or speedy liberation, by forcing the maddened beast to leap
the steep cliff, which overhung the dark waters rolling slowly and
quietly along some fifty feet below. For this purpose he gave him
several rapid blows with the halter-end, and the next moment the
verge of the bank was reached; but the animal recoiled with a
snort of terror, and at the same instant a bullet pierced his brain,
and he fell dead in his tracks. As he went down, Edward gathered
all his remaining strength, placed his hands upon the neck of the
sinking beast, and vaulted clean over his head. For a single instant
he remained suspended above the cliff, the report of a dozen rifles
was heard, a dozen balls went whizzing through the air, as many
tomakawk blades were seen faintly flashing in the dim light, and
then down, down went our hero, and a single, sullen splash was
all that was heard, as the cold, dark waters opened to receive him,
and then closed over his head.

Rushing to the brink of the cliff, several of the savages now
threw themselves flat upon the earth, and placing their ears over
the precipice, listened for any sound that would indicate human life
below. But no such sound was heard; all was as still as the grave,
save the solemn roar of the rapids of the little stream that entered
the Miami a short distance further down, over which, as we have
shown in a previous chapter, our female friends passed in safety,
thought at the peril of their lives.

Springing to their feet, the Indians uttered loud yells of disappointment,
at the second loss of one they had counted on so surely
as a victim at the stake; and then another short silence followed,
during which several prepared to descend to the water, at points
both above and below the steep cliff where Edward went down, in
order to make sure that he might not escape alive, not one among
the bravest caring to try the venturesome leap after him.

But their plan of search was frustrated by an unlooked for event;
for suddenly the yells of alarm and dismay, uttered by their companions,
who had gone up the river in pursuit of the fugitives, came

borne upon the still air with startling distinctness, causing many a
heart, so late courageous, to quake with fear. Soon they could
distinguish the distant clatter of horse's hoofs, and the terrible
words, “The Shemanoes! the Shemanoes!” shouted in loud tones
of terror, but still made faint to them by the intervening distance.

But faint or strong, the words themselves were appalling to the
heart, who rightly conjectured that a large body of whites were
approaching; and the scene of consternation and confusion that
ensued, beggars description. The escape of the captives was no
longer thought of by the Indians, but their own safety now became
a matter of the most momentous importance. Amid the wildest
cries, in every tone—from that of the puling infant, to the cracked
voice of the hoary headed veteran—the women and children, with
the moveable household articles, were hurried out of the village on
the southern and eastern sides; while the chiefs and braves, grasping
their weapons, prepared to make a bold defence on the two
opposite extremes.

Nor did the arrival of the party that had sounded the alarm, in
any degree lessen the general consternation, by the exaggerated
report, that the party before them had all been cut off, by running
into the terrible ambuscade of more than a thousand whites, who
were coming down in all their force to again plunder and destroy
their town. Still, with the renowned Black Hoof and other noted
chiefs at their head, the savages bravely resolved on holding their
village against all odds, or dying, like heroes, in the defence of
their homes, their wives, their sweet-hearts, and children.

But, as the reader already knows, no such tremendous body of
whites, as was reported, approached the town at all; and the few
half-mad soldiers that did get the nearest to it, paid the penalty of
their disobedience and rashness with their lives, as recorded in the
chapter preceding.

But as we left our hero in a very precarious situation, it may be
as well for us to return to him, and see whether he survived the
many dangers to which he was exposed by flood and field, or
whether he ignobly perished, and the cold waters that engulphed
him enshrined forever his mortal remains.