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VOLUME I. |
BY C. R. HASLEITER
[POIET^Y,
“ Much yet remains unsung .”
THOU HAST LOVED.
BY MRS. SEBA SMITH.
Dearest, in thine eye’s deep light
Is the look of tears allied —
Sorrow struggling with delight,
Each the other seeks to hide ;
Thou the freighted ark of life
Lonely floating on the sea,
With thy being's treasure rife—
Thou hast wearied thus to be.
Thou hast sent thy dove from thee—
Forth hath launched thy dove of peace,
And the branch, though green it be,
Can it bid thy tidings cease ?
Though it speak of hope the while,
Verdant spots and sunny bowers,
Can it bring thee back the smile
That beguiled the vacant hours?
Take thy dove and fold its wing—
Fold its ruffled wing to rest;
Deluge airs around it ring:
Let it nestle on thy breast.
Dearest, all thy care is vain—
Mark its trembling, weary wings;
But it conies to thee again,
And an olive branch it brings.
Take it, bind it unto thee,
Though the leaves ate dim with tears,
Such thy woman lot must be—
Love and sorrow, hopes and fears,
Bind the branch of promise ever
To thy heart, with fear oppressed;
Let the leaves of hope, oh ! never,
Withered, leave their place of rest.
JOHN -S ALIVE !
OR THE BRIDE OF A GHOST.
A Tale of Love and Adventure.
BY WILLIAM T. THOMPSON.
Ch apt er VI.
John becomes weary of camp-life—Expedient for re
lieving its monotony—The hunting patty—Florida
scenery—A mimic Eden—tha rural lounge—
Thoughts of pastoral life —Influence of association—
Mankind an element—Pastoral recreations —The at
tack—The escape—Night in the swamp—Search for
the camp—The surprise—The chase—John becomes
amphibious.
A life of inactivity was but illti suited to
my peculiar temperament, and I had re
mained in our snug quarters in the vicinity
of Fort Drane, only a few days, during
which time my wound had become entirely
, healed, before I began to feel restless and
dissatisfied ; and notwithstanding the pri
vations and hardships I had just endured, I
was extremely anxious to exchange the dull
tedium of the camp for the excitement of
the field. We were to remain in this state
of inactivity, until Gen. Scott should be en
abled to complete his arrangements, prior to
a simultaneous movement against the ene
my from different points,- by which means
that officer hoped to put an end to the war.
1 he time wore heavily oIF, and I determined
to adopt some expedient to relieve the dull
monotony of a life in camp. Accordingly,
one day 1 proposed to four others of my
companions to violate the standing order for
the day, by stealing out into the woods and
taking a hunt. My proposition was agreed
to, and we set out with our yagurs, in search
of the deer and wild turkeys which abound
in almost every thicket or swamp in Florida.
Our departure was unobserved by the
guard, and we hastened away from Camp
Smith, as our new encampment was called,
intending only to go so far that the report of
our guns might not reach the camp.
We had strayed far away, amid the pic
turesque wilds, of that delightful country,
ere we were aware of our remoteness from
the army. The scenery was enchanting,
and even at that early season of the year,
wore an aspect of luxuriance and freshness
that could not fail to inspire the beholder
with a love for the wild beauties of nature.
Now we strayed through open meadows of
waving grass, startling the herds of wild cat
tle from thcii browsing beside meandering
rivulets, or descended into the thick groves
of fragrant orange and magnolia, where the
wild vines wrought net-work oyer our heads,
and the rich drapery of spring hung in
graceful festoons from every bough. Then
perchance we stood beneath the wide-spread
ing shade of the ever-green live-oak, whose
guarled “ms, laden with long pendant moss,
had battled with the storms of centuries;
or pressed with our feet the green carpeted
hanks of some beautiful lake, whose trans
parent waters mirrored upon its placid sur
face, the stately forms and dark green foli
age of the lofty trees that skirted it on every
aide.
Occasionally pausing to examine the rarer
“did flowers that attracted our attention, or
to quench our thirst in the cool, gurgling
springs that gushed from many a hill side,
we wandered on, forgetful of every danger,
and even unmindful of the object of our
Pursuit, until becoming weary, we threw
ourselves upon a mossy bank, close by a
B pring of delightful water, to rest and par
take of the scanty repast we had brought
with us. Though we had apprehended lit
tle or no danger from the Indians, so close
to Fort Drane, yet we had no disposition to
a iFamilg Jictosimpcr: BcfcotcO to mteratwre, &fiv(culture, JHeclmuics, StmcaUou, jForcisu autr Bowcgtic KntcUCsence, &c.
separate, and as we stalked through the
woods, generally in free conversation, we
could not expect to surprise much game.
Indeed we felt too sensibly the calm influ
ence of the mimic Eden through which we
had strayed, to think of the rude sports of
the chase, and the spot upon which we had
accidentally paused, afforded a prospect too
richly endowed with all the charms of na
ture, to admid of any other thoughts than
those of admiration and delight. There
were no rugged mountains nor frowning
granite cliffs to give grandeur and sublimity
to the view : but the gently uudulating hills,
clothed with the rich verdure of the spring,
the placid lake, the murmuring rivulet, the
richly tinted flowers, nodding to the soft
breath of the fragrant zephyr, and the sweet
music of the birds, lent an air of pastoral
beauty to the scene, and imparted a feeling
of tranquility and peace to the mind, de
lightful to experience but impossible to des
cribe. It was indeed
“ A happy rural seat of various view;
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm,
Others whose fruit burnish’d with golden rind
Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true,
If true, here only, and of delicious taste :
Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks
Grazing the tender herb, were interposed
Or palmy hillock; or the flow’ry lap
Os some irreguous valley spread her store,
Flow’rs of all hue and without thorn the rose :
Another side, umbrageous grots and caves
Os cool recess, o’er which the mantling vine
Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps
Luxuriant; meanwhile murm'ring waters fa 11,
That to the fringed bank with murtle crown’d
Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams.
The birds their choir applyj airs, vernal airs,
Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune
The trembling leaves.”
“Is not this a lovely spot?” said one of our
little party, in a tone of enthusiastic admi
ration.
“It is indeed !” replied my sentimental
friend, Sam, surveying the enchanting scene
as he spoke. “ How willingly would I end
my days in such a place. Happy indeed,
must have been the estate of those premi
tive people who lived in the golden age •
whose days were passed amid such rural
scenes as these, and whose sole employment
was to guard their grazing flocks. With
hearts scarce less simple and innocent than
those of their lambs an kids, they passed
their days in dreams of love, equally con
tented and happy. Unsophisticated in their
manners, temperate in their desires, and un
restrained by conventional forms, they roved
the gieen fields of earth in the full enjoy
ment of natural liberty; while the pure
felicity of their existence flowed on, unin
terrupted by any of the thousand vexatious
cares, mortifications and disappointments
which embitter the cup of life.
“ By George,” exclaimed one, cocking up
the brim of his beaver, and looking wildly
about as he spoke, “if there is any such a
thing as the influence of association, a fellow
would soon turn to a witch-hazel or black
jack, if he were to make his home in this
wild region.”
That’s a fact,” said Crockett, as he bent
down to dip a cup of water, “my legs be
gin to feel sort o’ woody a-ready.”
“ I have somewhere seen mankind,” con
tinued Sam, in a serious tone, “ called a teg
etahle; and though lam not prepared to say
that there are not some scions of father
Adam’s stock, that seem to warrant the com
parison, yet I am more inclined to class him
with the elements. The element of flesh is
not unlike that of water, at least in one char
acteristic. In small communities it is gen
erally passive and harmless, but in propor
tion to its immensity, it becomes turbid, vi
cious, and depraved. Yon glassy lake or
this gurgling rill, like man in his primeval
state, is pure, tranquil and beautiful; but is
not the turbulent ocean, carrying death and
destruction in its restless surges, with its
treacherous quick-sands and hidden rocks, a
fit emblem of our densely populated cities,
where every vice that can corrupt and de
base the species is practised, and where
treachery, sin, and misery, roll their dark
waves over the moral sea of human rela
tions 1”
All but the speaker enjoyed a hearty
laugh at Sam’s strained philosophy.
“ It’s a fact,” said he—“ show me a city,
and I’ll show you vice and misery in all their
various hues—a rural cot, and if not exalted
virtue, truth and purity, at least simplicity
and happiness. Man, though an intelligent
being, formed for social life, is corrupting in
his influence upon his fellows, and when
viewed in the aggregate, resembles the cle
ment of which 1 spaak, in more ways than
one.”
“ Well, Sam, you moralize first rate —but
you’d have to preach a better stave than
that, before you’d get me to agree to run
wild again, like they say them old chaps
were. I believe in civilization and good
society, and thar’ an’t no place like Natchez,
that ever I seed yet.”
Same made no reply to Crockett, but
throwing himself over upon his back, with
his arms crossed under his head, commenc
ed—
“ Oh that the desert were my dwelling place—
“ Well, every fellow to his liking,” inter
rupted Ciockett—but I couldn’t live where
there want no galls, no how—God bless
J _ __ H
em.
The enraptured ruralizer continued—
“ With one fair spirit for my minister—
That I might all forget the human raoe,
And hating noono, love but only her.”
MADISON, MORGAN COUNTY, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 1, 1842.
“ Ah, that might do—with a l ight pretty
gall for a minister, I don’t know but 1
might ”
“ Become an Anchorite,” interrupted one.
“ A wkatente 1” asked Crockett, with a
stare.
“Oh, hush, Crockett, you don’t know
what you are talking about,” replied Sam.
Then after gazing a moment abstractedly
into the thick canopy of overarching branches,
through which the declining sun scarce pen
etrated, he broke forth with one of Pope’s
sweet pastorals—
“ Hear how the birds in every bloomy spray,
With joyousfmusic wake the dawning day !
Why sit we mute when early linnets sing,
When warbling Philomel salutes the spring?
Why sit we sad when Phtebus shines bo clear,
And lavish nature paints the purple year?”
To which, catching the inspiration of my
friend, I replied—
“ Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain,
While yon slow oxen turn the furrow’d plain.
Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow
Here western winds on breathing roses blow.
I’ll stake yon lamb that near the fountain plays,
And from the brink’ hjs dancing shade surveys.”
Sam continued, raising aloft his tin-cup,
upon which his name was carved, with ma
ny an odd device by way of ornament—
“ And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines
And swelling clusters bend the curling vines:
Four figures rising from the work appear,
The various seasons of the rolling year;
And what is that” ..
—“ Ingins, boys ! Ingins !” exclaimed
Crockett, as he sprang towards his gun.—
Each seized his yagur, but ere wc had risen
to our feet, a volley of rifle-balls whistled
over our beads, slightly wounding Crockett
in the cheek.
“ Oh, boys, my beauty’s spilt,” blubbered
poor Crockett.
The next moment a loud yell, that sent
the blood curdling to our hearts, resounded
through the woods, and as we hastily sprang
behind the nearest trees, two more shots,
which had been kept in reserve, were direct
ed towards us from the adjacent thicket,
which bad served to screen our lurking foe.
We did not immediatly return the fire, but
waiting until the Indians, in their attempt to
reduce the distance between us, became ex
posed to our aim, we gave them a well di
rected fire from our five yagurs, three of
which took effect, which somewhat reduced
the number of our assailants. The Indians
by this time, had reloaded their pieces, and
still greatly supeiiorin number, rushed mad
ly towards us, incensed to desperation, if
such demons needed incitement, by the loss
they had sustained. In this dilemma, flight
was our only hope, and calling to my com
rades to keep together, I led the way from
our covert. While thus exposed the Indians
fired, and two of our party were seen to fall.
Sam, exclaiming “ the devil was in Para
dise,” dashed down his yet unloaded gur. to
free himself from all incumbrance, but ere
lie had made a dozen paces from the spot,
he too fell groaning by my side.
Our party was now reduced to two, and
my companion and myself, still retaining our
guns, dashed through the open woods with
the wreckless speed of men who fled from
death in its most horrid form. The Indians
were not slow in their pursuit, and it was
long after their hideous yell had died upon
our ears, and not until we had reached the
midst of a dense and almost impenetrable
swamp, that we felt that we had eluded their
search, and that we were for a time free
from danger. We passed the night in the
dismal swamp, which had afforded us con
cealment from our pursuers, by climbing in
to the top of a large tree, where we sat out
the long gloomy hours; our ears only greet
ed by the doleful howl of the hungry wolf,
t the fierce scream of the prowling panther,
or the startling hoot of the owl; all of which
tended little to relieve the sombre cast of
our reflections.
As the day was breaking in the east, on
the following morning, we clambered down
from our biding place, and set out in what
we hoped to be the direction of the camp,
though we knew not whether each step car
ried us nearer to or farther from the point
which we so anxiously wished to gain.—
Keeping constantly a sharp look out, that
we might not again be surprised, we travel
ed on with rapid strides, anxiously hoping
that we might meet some familiar object
which would confirm us in our course. In
the anxiety of our minds, we had forgotten
every other consideration but that of our
personal safety, and though we had neither
eaten or slept since the previous day, yet
we flagged not, such is the elasticity and
vigor imparted to the physical frame by ex
treme exigency of circumstances operating
upon the mind. Onward we traveled, now
in despondency, and now with reviving hope,
as some peculiar aspect of the distant view
—an apparent opening or a smoky horizon
—seemed to indicate our proximity to some
place of human abode. Once, we thought
we heard the report of fire-arms, but at a
distance so remote, that we could not dis
tinguish whether it was that of the
musket or yagur, or of the rifle of our ene
mies—in which latter case there was, to us,
certainly nothing very luring in the sound.
The sun was already hidden among the
tree-tops, when we discovered far away in
the direction in which we supposed our
camp to lie, a cloud of rising smoke, which
we hailed with as much joy and gratitude as
did the Israelites their cloud and pillar of
fire in the wilderness. As the shades of
evening around us, we hastened
on in the direction of the camp, whose blaz
ing fires now sent up their cheerful light,
and by which we directed our course, felici
tating ourselves upon our fortunate escape,
fully resolved within our hearts, that if it
was our evil fortune again to encounter the
Indians, it should not he without our host.
Such was our eagerness to join our friends,
that we did not even pause for the challenge
of the sentinenls, but hastened forward in
the direction of the fires.
We had almost penetrated into the camp,
when, to my utter horror and dismay, I dis
covered that we had rushed into the very
den of the enemy. Hi-e-lah ! cste-liadkah !”
exclaimed a dusky form, springing up be
fore us, apparently not less terrified than
ourselves. On the wings of terror, we rush
ed from the place—hut we had been dis
covered, and now a legion of yelling devils
were in hot pursuit of us through the open
pine woods. It wos a cloudless night, and
the moon, which had risen Jabove the trees,
sent its balm pale rays into the open woods,
yielding a light scarce less brilliant and
clear than that of the sun, affording
our pursuers every advantage which day
light could have given them. Shot after
shot pealed through the woods, and so close
did they press upon us, that we had no time
to elude them by dodging, and no thicket
presented itself as far as the eye could reach.
A spent ball penetrated my thigh, hut it on
ly added fleetness to my gait, as I dashed
impetuously on. Once, 1 cast a look be
nind—two Indians were abreast far in ad
vance of the howling pack—l turned behind
the next pine, and taking deliberate aim,
fired—“ I Vah /” exclaimed one, as he fell
forward upon his face. I saw his compan
ion stoop over him, while the woods echoed
with the yells of those in the rear. Reloading
my piece a I dashed on, endeavoring to keep
each tree that I passed between myself and
my pursuers, I again began to increase the
distance between us. Again I covered my
self by a tree, and again the formost Indian
halted from the chase. Reloading as be
fore, I hastened on, my companion a little
in my rear, when suddenly, to my consterna
tion and surprise, I found myself close on
the margin of a broad lake, extending far on
either side. To alter my course, would on
ly bring me nearer to the Indians. All es
cape seemed hopeless-—a veavy volley whis
tled past, as the infuriated savages approach
ed, yelling injiideous concert. 1 turned to
meet my fate at the moment my companion
fell to the ground. Half rising and calling
to me in the most piteous tones, he was
grasped by the ruthless savages, who clus
tered around him. Amid the shout and din,
I heard the tomahawk cleave his skull, and
heard his expiring groan. It: their midst I
fired, and dashing my ,gun into the lake,
rushed into the thick tall weeds, that grew
far out into the water, determined at least to
escape the appalling fate of my companion.
As I looked back, I felt a numbing sensation
in my breast, and the warm blood gushed
upon my hand. I was falling from the
stunning shock, when I grasped among the
tall iron-weeds for support, some of which
broke off in roy hands. They were hallow,
and placing one in my mouth, I sank be
neath the surface, where, not without diffi
culty, I succeeded in drawing a breath or
two through the weed. After moving to
some distance from where I had first disap
peared, and to where the water was deeper,
1 was forced to raise my head to the surface
in order that I might enjoy a freer respira
tion. The cold water soon coagulated the
blood, and the severe wound which I had re
ceived in my breast, ceased to bleed ; and
though I cannot say that I felt comfortable
in my new element, yet the sense of even
temporary security from my merciless pur
suers, was no small relief to my mind.—
Luckily the position which 1 had attained,
was thickly grown with tall weeds and pond
lillies, so that while I had an opportunity of
observing the movements of the Indians, I
remained completely screened from their
view. They were nearly all gathered round
some two or three whom I had either killed
or wounded by my last fire, while some three
oi four of their number were plodding among
the weeds and water in search of my body.
1 remained in my concealment until they
gave over the search, and departed, yelling
like so many fiends from a hellish carnival
to their camp.
Chapter VII.
John emerges fromliis concealment-—Fever— Delirium
-Insensibility—Recovery—Despondency— Reviving
influence of the|brightcning dawn-Morning repast-A
new feeling—His wanderings—Second night in the
wilderness—Dreams—The evening gun—Arrival at
the St. Johns—Joyful emotions on first reaching the
army—Surgical operation—Rule for estimating de
grees of pain—Recovery—Reflections upon the past
—Reformation resolved upon—Return to Philadel
phia.
The moon had risen high in the heavens,
ere I ventured to emerge from my uncom
fortable concealment. I was chilled to the
very vitals, arid a cold shudder ran over my
whole frame as I attempted to drag my stif
fened limbs along the beach. Fearing that
the Indiana might possibly be lurking in the
vicinity, I determined to lose no time in
quitting the place which had been the scene
of so much horror, and if possible to reach
some spot of greater safety. But my limbs
refusod to perform their office, and I sank
down upon the ground, shivering and cold,
unable to proceed. The wound in my breast
commenced to bleed afresh, and soon a burn
ing fever seized me, and I crawled to the
beach to quench my parching thirst. A
dimness came over my eyes, accompanied
by a dreadful nausea. My head became
dizzy, and lake, ground and bushes, wheeled
round and round till darkness shut them out
from my view.
The tall trees threw their lengthened
shadows far over the moon-lit lake, and their
tops tossed to and fro in the chill wind, with
a sullen roaring sound, when 1 rose from the
cold earth. Ragged white clouds were
passing swiftly overhead, and occasional
gusts of wind startled me as they rustled
the leaves and bushes at intervals. How
long 1 had lain there I could not tell, but it
was evident from the position of the moon,
that many hours had passed during my un
consciousslumlter. With difficulty 1 regain
ed my feet, and binding my handkerchief as
well as I could upon the frightful wound in
my breast, 1 again essayed to leave the spot.
Slowly [and stealthily I plodded my way
along the lonely beach, until 1 reached the
extremity of the lake, then striking into the
woods, H traveled on, unconscious of the
course I was pursuing, until I reached a
small thicket, into which I turned, and tyit
me down to'rest.
I suffered excessively both from loss of
blood and hunger, and I sank back against
the trunk of a tree, where I hoped I might
die in peace. Filled with the most despond
ing thoughts, 1 sat out the dark hour which
preceded the approach of day ; hut when
the streaks of amber light began to ascend
the cast, and shortly after, when the sun sent
up his cheering rays, dispersing the gloomy
shadows of the night, and tinging the dewy
leaves with gold, while the hymn of nature
rose upon the morning breeze from every
glittering spray, imparting life and anima
tion to the scene, my subdued and broken
spirit seemed to lake its hue from the bright
ening prospect, and I remembered, that
“ while there is life tbeie is hope.”
My first business was to obtain something
wherewith to satisfy my craving appetite.
With my large knife, 1 was enabled to pro
cure an abundant supply of palmetto and
other nutrieious roots, upon which, and a
few craw fish, I made a hearty meal. By
this time, my wounds began to be very sore,
and on examination 1 found I had received
othersliglit injuries beside those in my breast
and thigh. But having partnken of a hear
ty breakfast, I soon felt sensible of my re
turning strength, and though but illy calcula
ted in my crippled condition to survive a
journey through the wilderness, much less
to combat the foe which surrounded me on
every side, I was encouraged by the past to
hope for the future. I felt that my destiny
was in thehandsof an overruling Providence,
to whom I was alone indebted for the pre
servation of my unprofitable life. What
dangers had I not passed ? and what hand
but that of- omnipotence could have preserv
ed me amid the perils of the past few days 1
A strange feeling sprang up in my breast—
and, unworthy as 1 was, I breathed a fervent
aspiration to Him, who in much mercy had
permitted me to live to repent of the past,
and whom I trusted with an abiding faith
would again restore me to my pious mother,
that I might repair in some degree the
wrong I had done her.
With slow and cautious steps, I again re
sumed my way, ever hoping that the next
hour would bring me either to the camp I
had left, to some of the numerous military
posts, or to some settlement of the whites.
But night again closed around me in the
lonely wilderness. By the bt ight moonlight,
I wandered on, until I came to a public road.
Whither it led 1 knew not, but that it would
direct me to some settlement I was certain,
and taking one end, I determined to travel
as long as my strength would permit, or un
til I reached some place of safety. The
moon had nearly gone down ere I sought
a place of resh Turning into a thicket at
some little distance from the road, I gather
ed a pallet of moss and laid me down td”
rest, but not to sleep, unless (hat condition
when one is half sleeping and half waking,
startled at intervals by horrid visions, might
be called sleep.
Vaiious and strange were the visions
shadowed forth upon iny sleeping senses, as
I lay on my moss-bed in the dark and solemn
woods. Now I.stood by the gushing foun
tains of Fair Mount—the gardens were il
luminated with lamps of transcendentbright
ness—l heard the rushing of the pent up
waters, and tbp smothered thunder of the
mighty engines—streams of crystal water
rose from innumerable jets, and came show
ering down among the green branches of the
trees, like liquid diamonds—the gravelled
walks were filled with gay throngs of peo
ple—delicious viands were spreud around
—soft music floated upon the breeze—the
song and dance were there, and joyous faces
greeted nte on every side—but oh, vision of
loveliness! Mary bung upon my arm, and
the rich melody of her voice poured its en
chantment on my ear, in accents of love.. .
The illusion passed I stood
beneath the brilliant chandeliers of the gay
saloon—my sisters, my friends were there
—’twas a joyous company, but I was not
happy—there was one that looked coldly
upon me—l gazed upon her as she passed
me with averted face—she leant upon the
arVn of Thaw, who bent upon me a smile of
triumph. I left the hall, and the gay assem
blage to meditate alone -. Again the !
| NUMBER 27.
W. T. THOMPSON, EDITOR,
scene was changed I tfras stretched
upon a sick bed—my mother's soft melan
choly eyes were bent upon me—she called
my name, but I could not speak—a shroud
lay upon the table, and I knew that I wai
dying Then the din of battle, the
peel of arms and the shout of the foe burst
upon my ear—l had fallen, and was crushed
to the earth beneath horses’ feet, but could
not call for aid The battle ceased,
and the vision passed from the magic mirror
of my fancy I knew that I was up
on my moss-bed—it was bright moon-light,
and I casttny eyes around upon the leaves
and bushes—a foot-fall attracted my ear—l
listened—it surely wasnodrenm—lowvoices
whispered together, and then a swarthy In
dian approached—behind him were many
more. With stealthy step he drew near—
his eyes glared with demoniac fury—his
hideous face was smeared with gore—a
bloody knife was in his hand, and clots of
blood hung from his shaggy scalp-lock. I
would have fled but could not—l would have
plead for mercy but my tongue was paralyz
ed. Brandishing his bloody knife, lie-hover
ed over me, till frozen with terror I gasped
for breath. He bote me to the earth—his
knee was upon my breast—with one fiend
ish yell, he plugged his knife deep into my
side! 1 awoke—just as an owl that had
perched itself upon a tree above my head,
sent forth its wild, startling hoot. I was ly
ing upon my back, trembling in every joint,
while the cold perspiration stood in large
drops upon my face. I turned upon my
side and drew the moss closerabout me, but
when I again lost the sense of pain in sleep,
it was only to allow my mind still wilder
vagaries in the world of dreams.
At early dawn, I resumed my journey.—
I had not proceeded far, however, when I
discovered numerous moccasin tracks in the
sand, and several strange and uncovith fi
gures, which appeared freshly made. As
these indicated the presence of Indians, I
resolved to leave the road forfear they might
pursue my tracks, if they did not meet me
on the way. Striking again into the woods,
I kept a constant look-out for Indians as I
traveled on, occasionally pausing towest, or
to fill myself with the sparkle-berries and
haws, which 1 found in great abundance.
Night again began to close around me, still
in the lonely wilderness. My wounds had
become exceedingly painful, and 1 jtegan to
fear that I would be unable to proceed far
ther. As the sun was sinking beneath the
horizon, and the sombre shadows gradually
dissolved into darkness, 1 laid me down up
on my rude couch. My mind was oppress
ed with the awful thought of the sad death
that aw aited me, alone in that desolate place,
and my heart was full of melancholy fore
bodings. All hope had'fled, and I closed
my eyes in deep despair, when the distant
report of the evening gun broke joyfully up
on my ear. Words will not express the
joyful emotions of my breast, as I listened
to the deep reverberating sound, as it rolled
along through the echoing valleys, until
hushed in the stillness of the solitude that
reigned around. I was overcome with joy
—not wiid, extatic joy—but a calm, holy “
feeling of gratitude, such as I had never ex
perienced before, made me happy in the
prospect of approaching relief and safety;
and a fear stole down my haggard cheek as
I caught the familiar notes of the tatoo, that
came faintly upon the breeze as if to assure
my hope. Marking w-ell the direction of
the sound, I soon sank into a refreshing sleep,
regardless of my physical pain, now that my
mental agony was in a measure abated.
With the early dawn, I rose and pursued
my journey. My progress was necessarily
slow, owing to ‘my crippled condition and
exhausted strength, and it was towards even
ing whon I reached the margin of a large
river, down which I determined to proceed
until I should intersect the road, at which
point I confidently expected to find the fort
whose gun I had heard the preceding even
ing. An hour’s walk brought me in sight
of the “ flaunting stars and stripes,” floating
proudly over what I afterwards learned to
be the pine picquets qf Piccolati, on the op
posite side of the river. On arriving at the
junction of the road, 1 found a large body of
troops encamped, preparatory to their de
parture for Fort Drane. I was too much
overcome by the intensity of my feelings to
answer satisfactorily any of the many ques
tions that were eagerly pressed upon me
by the deeply sympathising and astonished
group that gathered around mo. I wassoon
conveyed to a tent, where I guve\ent to
my joy and gratitude in a flood of tears,
while flom my inmost heart went up the
first offering of praise and thanks that I had
ever raised to the throne of mercy.
Such was the swollen and iuflamed condi
tion of my wounds that I was immediately
sent across the river to Piccolati, where I
was put in care of the surgeon, who pro
ceeded to dress them, and as well as his facil
ities would allow, to administer to my relief
and comfort.
On the following day, I was subjected to a
painful surgical operation, the pain of which,
exceeded all the suffering of my past life.
A rifle-ball had passed round from my brtffest
and lodged underneath my shoulder blade,
which ball, it became necessary to extract
in order to heal the wound. My whole irm
was exceedingly swollen, and my Moulder
and back in the vicinity of the wound, were
inflamed to such a degree that the slightest
pressure from the surface caused the most,
acute pain.