University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XVII.

Never was any delight worthy of comparison with the
raptures which I then experienced. Life, that was rapidly
ebbing, appeared to return upon me with redoubled violence.
My languors, my excruciating heat, vanished in a
moment, and I felt prepared to undergo the labors of Hercules.
Having fully supplied the demands of nature in this
respect, I returned to reflection on the circumstances of my
situation. The path winding round the hill was now free
from all impediments. What remained but to precipitate
my flight? I might speedily place myself beyond all danger.
I might gain some hospitable shelter, where my fatigues
might be repaired by repose, and my wounds be cured. I
might likewise impart to my protectors seasonable information
of the enemies who meditated their destruction.

I thought upon the condition of the hapless girl whom
I had left in the power of the savages. Was it impossible
to rescue her? Might I not relieve her from her bonds, and
make her the companion of my flight? The exploit was
perilous, but not impracticable. There was something dastardly
and ignominious in withdrawing from the danger, and
leaving a helpless being exposed to it. A single minute
might suffice to snatch her from death or captivity. The
parents might deserve that I should hazard or even sacrifice
my life, in the cause of their child.

After some fluctuation, I determined to return to the
cavern, and attempt the rescue of the girl. The success of
this project depended on the continuance of their sleep. It
was proper to approach with wariness, and to heed the
smallest token which might bespeak their condition. I crept
along the path, bending my ear forward to catch any sound

that might arise. I heard nothing but the half-stifled sobs
of the girl.

I entered with the slowest and most anxious circumspection.
Every thing was found in its pristine state. The
girl noticed my entrance with a mixture of terror and joy.
My gestures and looks enjoined upon her silence. I stooped
down, and taking another hatchet, cut asunder the deer-skin
thongs by which her wrists and ancles were tied. I then
made signs for her to rise and follow me. She willingly
complied with my directions; but her benumbed joints and
lacerated sinews, refused to support her. There was no
time to be lost; I therefore lifted her in my arms, and, feeble
and tottering as I was, proceeded with this burthen,
along the perilous steep, and over a most rugged path.

I hoped that some exertion would enable her to retrieve
the use of her limbs. I set her, therefore, on her feet,
exhorting her to walk as well as she was able, and promising
her my occasional assistance. The poor girl was not deficient
in zeal, and presently moved along with light and
quick steps. We speedily reached the bottom of the hill.

No fancy can conceive a scene more wild and desolate
than that which now presented itself. The soil was nearly
covered with sharp fragments of stone. Between these
sprung brambles and creeping vines, whose twigs, crossing
and intertwining with each other, added to the roughness
below, made the passage infinitely toilsome. Scattered
over this space were single cedars with their ragged spines
and wreaths of moss, and copses of dwarf oaks, which were
only new emblems of sterility.

I was wholly unacquainted with the scene before me.
No marks of habitation or culture, no traces of the footsteps
of men, were discernible. I scarcely knew in what region
of the globe I was placed. I had come hither by means so
inexplicable, as to leave it equally in doubt, whether I was
separated from my paternal abode by a river or an ocean.

I made inquiries of my companion, but she was unable
to talk coherently. She answered my questions with weeping,
and sobs, and entreaties to fly from the scene of her
distress. I collected from her, at length, that her father's
house had been attacked on the preceding evening, and all
the family but herself destroyed. Since this disaster she

had walked very fast and a great way, but knew not how
far or in what direction.

In a wilderness like this, my only hope was to light upon
obscure paths, made by cattle. Meanwhile I endeavored
to adhere to one line, and to burst through the vexatious
obstacles which encumbered our way. The ground was
concealed by the bushes, and we were perplexed and fatigued
by a continual succession of hollows and prominences.
At one moment we were nearly thrown headlong into a pit.
At another we struck our feet against the angles of stones.
The branches of the oak rebounded in our faces or entangled
our legs, and the unseen thorns inflicted on us a
thousand wounds.

I was obliged, in these arduous circumstances, to support
not only myself but my companion. Her strength was
overpowered by her evening journey, and the terror of being
overtaken, incessantly harassed her.

Sometimes we lighted upon tracks which afforded us an
easier footing, and inspired us with courage to proceed.
These, for a time, terminated at a brook or in a bog, and
we were once more compelled to go forward at random.
One of these tracks insensibly became more beaten, and, at
length, exhibited the traces of wheels. To this I adhered,
confident that it would finally conduct us to a dwelling.

On either side, the undergrowth of shrubs and brambles
continued as before. Sometimes small spaces were observed,
which had lately been cleared by fire. At length
a vacant space of larger dimensions than had hitherto occurred,
presented itself to my view. It was a field of some
acres, that had, apparently, been upturned by the hoe.
At the corner of this field was a small house.

My heart leaped with joy at this sight. I hastened toward
it, in the hope that my uncertainties, and toils, and
dangers, were now drawing to a close. This dwelling was
suited to the poverty and desolation which surrounded it.
It consisted of a few unhewn logs laid upon each other, to
the height of eight or ten feet, including a quadrangular
space of similar dimensions, and covered by thatch. There
was no window, light being sufficiently admitted into the
crevices between the logs. These had formerly been
loosely plastered with clay, but air and rain had crumbled

and washed the greater part of this rude cement away.
Somewhat like a chimney, built of half-burnt bricks, was
perceived at one corner. The door was fastened by a
leathern thong, tied to a peg.

All within was silence and darkness. I knocked at the
door and called, but no one moved or answered. The
tenant, whoever he was, was absent. His leave could not
be obtained, and I, therefore, entered without it. The
autumn had made some progress, and the air was frosty
and sharp. My mind and muscles had been, of late, so
strenuously occupied, that the cold had not been felt. The
cessation of exercise, however, quickly restored my sensibility
in this respect, but the unhappy girl complained of
being half frozen.

Fire, therefore, was the first object of my search. Happily,
some embers were found upon the hearth, together
with potatoe stalks and dry chips. Of these, with much
difficulty, I kindled a fire, by which some warmth was imparted
to our shivering limbs. The light enabled me, as I
sat upon the ground, to survey the interior of this mansion.

Three saplings, stripped of their branches, and bound together
at their ends by twigs, formed a kind of bedstead,
which was raised from the ground by four stones. Ropes
stretched across these, and covered by a blanket, constituted
the bed. A board, of which one end rested on the
bedstead, and the other was thrust between the logs that
composed the wall, sustained the stale fragments of a rye
loaf, and a cedar bucket kept entire by withes instead of
hoops. In the bucket was a little water, full of droppings
from the roof, drowned insects and sand, a basket or two
neatly made, and a hoe, with a stake thrust into it by way
of handle, made up all the furniture that was visible.

Next to cold, hunger was the most urgent necessity by
which we were now pressed. This was no time to give ear
to scruples. We, therefore, unceremoniously divided the
bread and the water between us. I had now leisure to bestow
some regards upon the future.

These remnants of fire and food convinced me that this
dwelling was usually inhabited, and that it had lately been
deserted. Some engagement had probably carried the
tenant abroad. His absence might be terminated in a few

minutes, or might endure through the night. On his return,
I questioned not my power to appease any indignation he
might feel at the liberties which I had taken. I was willing
to suppose him one who would readily afford us all the information
and succour that we needed.

If he should not return till sunrise, I meant to resume
my journey. By the comfortable meal we had made, and
the repose of a few hours, we should be considerably invigorated
and refreshed, and the road would lead us to
some more hospitable tenement.

My thoughts were too tumultuous, and my situation too
precarious, to allow me to sleep. The girl, on the contrary,
soon sunk into a sweet oblivion of all her cares. She
laid herself, by my advice, upon the bed, and left me to
ruminate without interruption.

I was not wholly free from the apprehension of danger.
What influence his boisterous and solitary life might have
upon the temper of the being who inhabited this hut, I
could not predict. How soon the Indians might awake,
and what path they would pursue, I was equally unable to
guess. It was by no means impossible that they might tread
upon my footsteps, and knock, in a few minutes, at the
door of this cottage. It behoved me to make all the preparation
in my power against untoward incidents.

I had not parted with the gun which I had first seized in
the cavern, nor with the hatchet which I had afterwards
used to cut the bands of the girl. These were, at once,
my trophies and my means of defence, which it had been
rash and absurd to have relinquished. My present reliance
was placed upon these.

I now, for the first time, examined the prize that I had
made. Other considerations had prevented me till now,
from examining the structure of the piece, but I could not
but observe that it had two barrels, and was lighter and
smaller than an ordinary musket. The light of the fire
now enabled me to inspect it with more accuracy.

Scarcely had I fixed my eyes upon the stock, when I
perceived marks that were familiar to my apprehension.
Shape, ornaments, and cyphers, were evidently the same
with those of a piece which I had frequently handled.
The marks were of a kind which could not be mistaken.

This piece was mine; and when I left my uncle's house, it
was deposited, as I believed, in the closet of my chamber.

Thou wilt easily conceive the inference which this circumstance
suggested. My hairs rose and my teeth chattered
with horror. My whole frame was petrified, and I
paced to and fro, hurried from the chimney to the door,
and from the door to the chimney, with the misguided fury
of a maniac.

I needed no proof of my calamity more incontestible than
this. My uncle and my sisters had been murdered; the
dwelling had been pillaged, and this had been a part of the
plunder. Defenceless and asleep, they were assailed by
these inexorable enemies, and I, who ought to have been
their protector and champion, was removed to an immeasurable
distance, and was disabled, by some accursed chance,
from affording them the succor which they needed.

For a time, I doubted whether I had not witnessed and
shared this catastrophe. I had no memory of the circumstances
that preceded my awaking in the pit. Had not the
cause of my being cast into this abyss some connexion with
the ruin of my family? Had I not been dragged hither by
these savages, and reduced, by their malice, to that breathless
and insensible condition? Was I horn to a malignant
destiny never tired of persecuting? Thus had my parents
and their infant offspring perished, and thus completed was
the fate of all those to whom my affections cleaved, and
whom the first disaster had spared.

Hitherto the death of the savage, whom I had despatched
with my hatchet, had not been remembered without some
remorse. Now my emotions were totally changed. I was
somewhat comforted in thinking that thus much of necessary
vengeance had been executed. New and more vehement
regrets were excited by reflecting on the forbearance
I had practised when so much was in my power. All the
miscreants had been at my mercy, and a bloody retribution
might, with safety and ease, have been inflicted on their
prostrate bodies.

It was now too late. What of consolation or of hope remained
to me? To return to my ancient dwelling, now
polluted with blood, or perhaps, nothing but a smoking ruin,

was abhorred. Life, connected with the remembrance of
my misfortunes was detestable. I was no longer anxious
for flight. No change of the scene but that which terminated
all consciousness, could I endure to think of.

Amidst these gloomy meditations the idea was suddenly
suggested of returning, with the utmost expedition, to the
cavern. It was possible that the assassins were still asleep.
He who was appointed to watch, and to make, in due season,
the signal for resuming their march, was forever silent.
Without this signal it was not unlikely that they would sleep
till dawn of day. But if they should be roused, they might
be overtaken or met, and, by choosing a proper station, two
victims might at least fall. The ultimate event to myself
would surely be fatal; but my own death was an object of
desire rather than of dread. To die thus speedily, and
after some atonement was made for those who had already
been slain, was sweet.

The way to the mountain was difficult and tedious, but
the ridge was distinctly seen from the door of the cottage,
and I trusted that auspicious chance would lead me to that
part of it where my prey was to be found. I snatched up
the gun and tomahawk in a transport of eagerness. On
examining the former, I found that both barrels were deeply
loaded.

This piece was of extraordinary workmanship. It was
the legacy of an English officer, who died in Bengal, to
Sarsefield. It was constructed for the purposes not of sport
but of war. The artist had made it a congeries of tubes
and springs, by which every purpose of protection and
offence was effectually served. A dagger's blade was attached
to it, capable of being fixed at the end, and of answering
the destructive purpose of a bayonet. On his departure
from Solebury, my friend left it, as a pledge of his affection,
in my possession. Hitherto I had chiefly employed it in
shooting at a mark, in order to improve my sight; now was
I to profit by the gift in a different way.

Thus armed, I prepared to sally forth on my adventurous
expedition. Sober views might have speedily succeeded to
the present tempest of my passions. I might have gradually
discovered the romantic and criminal temerity of my project,
the folly of revenge, and the duty of perserving my

life for the benefit of mankind. I might have suspected
the propriety of my conclusion, and have admitted some
doubts as to the catastrophe which I imagined to have befallen
my uncle and sisters. I might, at least, have consented
to ascertain their condition with my own eyes; and for
this end have returned to the cottage, and have patiently
waited till the morning light should permit me to resume my
journey.

This conduct was precluded by a new incident. Before
I opened the door I looked through a crevice of the wall,
and perceived three human figures at the farther end of the
field. They approached the house. Though indistinctly
seen, something in their port persuaded me that these were
the Indians from whom I had lately parted. I was startled,
but not dismayed. My thirst of vengeance was still powerful,
and I believed that the moment of its gratification was
hastening. In a short time they would arrive and enter the
house. In what manner should they be received?

I studied not my own security. It was the scope of my
wishes to kill the whole number of my foes; but that being
done, I was indifferent to the consequences. I desired not
to live to relate or to exult in the deed.

To go forth was perilous and useless. All that remained
was to sit upon the ground opposite the door, and fire at
each as he entered. In the hasty survey I had taken of
this apartment, one object had been overlooked, or imperfectly
noticed. Close to the chimney was an aperture, formed by
a cavity partly in the wall and in the ground. It was the
entrance of an oven, which resembled, on the outside, a
mound of earth, and which was filled with dry stalks of
potatoes and other rubbish.

Into this it was possible to thrust my body. A sort of
screen might be formed of the brush-wood, and more deliberate
and effectual execution be done upon the enemy.
I weighed not the disadvantages of this scheme, but precipitately
threw myself into this cavity. I discovered, in an
instant, that is was totally unfit for my purpose, but it was
too late to repair my miscarriage.

This wall of the hovel was placed near the verge of a
sand-bank. The oven was erected on the very brink.
This bank being of a loose and mutable soil, could not sustain

my weight. It sunk, and I sunk along with it. The
height of the bank was three or four feet, so that, though
disconcerted and embarrassed, I received no injury. I still
grasped my gun, and resumed my feet in a moment.

What was now to be done? The bank screened me
from the view of the savages. The thicket was hard by,
and if I were eager to escape, the way was obvious and
sure. But though single, though enfeebled by toil, by abstinence,
and by disease, and though so much exceeded in
number and strength, by my foes, I was determined to
await and provoke the contest.

In addition to the desperate impulse of passion, I was
swayed by thoughts of the danger which beset the sleeping
girl, and from which my flight would leave her without protection.
How strange is the destiny that governs mankind!
The consequence of shrouding myself in this cavity had not
been foreseen. It was an expedient which courage, and
not cowardice suggested, and yet it was the only expedient
by which flight had been rendered practicable. To have
issued from the door would only have been to confront, and
not to elude the danger.

The first impulse prompted me to re-enter the cottage
by this avenue, but this could not be done with certainty
and expedition. What then remained? While I deliberated,
the men approached, and, after a moment's hesitation,
entered the house, the door being partly open.

The fire on the hearth enabled them to survey the room.
One of them uttered a sudden exclamation of surprise.
This was easily interpreted. They had noticed the girl
who had lately been their captive lying asleep on the blanket.
Their astonishment at finding her here, and in this
condition, may be easily conceived.

I now reflected that I might place myself, without being
observed, near the entrance, at an angle of the building, and
shoot at each as he successively came forth. I perceived
that the bank conformed to two sides of the house, and that
I might gain a view of the front and of the entrance, without
exposing myself to observation.

I lost no time in gaining this station. The bank was as
high as my breast. It was easy, therefore, to crouch beneath
it, to bring my eye close to the verge, and, laying my

gun upon the top of it among the grass, with its muzzles
pointed to the door, patiently to wait their forthcoming.

My eye and my ear were equally attentive to what was
passing. A low and muttering conversation was maintained
in the house. Presently I heard a heavy stroke descend.
I shuddered, and my blood ran cold at the sound. I entertained
no doubt but that it was the stroke of a hatchet on the
head or breast of the helpless sleeper.

It was followed by a loud shriek. The continuance of
these shrieks proved that the stroke had not been instantly
fatal. I waited to hear it repeated, but the sounds that now
arose were like those produced by dragging somewhat
along the ground. The shrieks, meanwhile, were incessant
and piteous. My heart faltered, and I saw that mighty
efforts must be made to preserve my joints and my nerves
steadfast. All depended on the strenuous exertions and the
fortunate dexterity of a moment.

One now approached the door, and came forth, dragging
the girl, whom he held by the hair, after him. What hindered
me from shooting at his first appearance, I know not.
This had been my previous resolution. My hand touched
the trigger, and as he moved, the piece was levelled at his
right ear. Perhaps the momentous consequences of my
failure, made me wait till his ceasing to move might render
my aim more sure.

Having dragged the girl, still piteously shrieking, to the
distance of ten feet from the house, he threw her from him
with violence. She fell upon the ground, and observing
him level his piece at her breast, renewed her supplications
in a still more piercing tone. Little did the forlorn wretch
think that her deliverance was certain and near. I rebuked
myself for having thus long delayed. I fired, and my enemy
sunk upon the ground without a struggle.

Thus far had success attended me in this unequal contest.
The next shot would leave me nearly powerless. If
that, however, proved as unerring as the first, the chances
of defeat were lessened. The savages within, knowing the
intentions of their associate with regard to the captive girl,
would probably mistake the report which they heard for
that of his piece. Their mistake, however, would speedily

give place to doubts, and they would rush forth to ascertain
the truth. It behoved me to provide a similar reception
for him that next appeared.

It was as I expected. Scarcely was my eye again fixed
upon the entrance, when a tawny and terrific visage was
stretched fearfully forth. It was the signal of his fate. His
glances cast wildly and swiftly round, lighted upon me, and
on the fatal instrument which was pointed at his forehead.
His muscles were at once exerted to withdraw his head,
and to vociferate a warning to his fellow, but his movement
was too slow. The ball entered above his ear. He tumbled
headlong to the ground, bereaved of sensation, though
not of life, and had power only to struggle and mutter.