[For The Sunny South.]
“I FEAR VO! IIA VK \0 SOI L.”
BY MARY E. BRYAN.
“I said to you last night-. ‘I never dream:' and you
answered, ‘Then I aui afraid you have no soul; it is only
the soulless who never dream.* Do you know* the doubt
was 4 keen as death ?' It eost me a bitter hour and a burn
ing tea" last night. Say you did not mean it. J.**
The idle words were light as air,
Nor meant an earnest truth to bear;
They were not worth my poet's “tear."
A heart of love, a soul of fire.
Thy tones, thy movements all inspire.
As musie thrills the ehorded lyre.—
A wild, sweet soul, that seems astray
In this prosaic, selfish day—
A bird whose plumage strange and gay
Tells of the isles of tropic ray,
Where Summer clasps the hand of May.
And bloom and beauty reign for aye.
My spirit, soared with wrong and ruth.
Kneels to that soul of power and truth
In its fresh fervency and youth.
My heart — a tuneless lyre unstrung,
On Memory’s mournful cypress hung—
Feels the awakening magic flung
Its warped and wasted chords among.
And stirs as if it feign would break
The spell from which it must not wake.
Oh! rare and burning soul, that thrills
Electric in the blood that rills
Thro* thy young, ardent veins, and fills
Thine eyes with living light and fire,—
Grand, gifted soul, born to aspire.
Full of unquenchable desire
And yearnings for a life yet higher,—
What need of Sleep's unreasoning dreams
To visit thee in ’wildering gleams.
Fantastic as the starry beams
That dance i»n overshadowed streams?
What need, when fancies bright and rare
Bend o’er thy spirit's fountain clear,
Mirroring their own wild beauty there,
Fairer than visioned shapes may wear
When seen thro' Itreamlaml's misty air?
[Written for The Sunny South.]
Callie Carson’s Lovers;
FLAT-BOAT, RIVER AM) RIFLE.
BY M. WAD.
Was Callie to be drowned in the cave ? The
water crept over her shoes, reached her ankles,
and there rested for a long hour. It could back
up no higher, and the girl's life was to he spared.
It was another hour before it commenced to re
cede, and Callie judged that it was after mid
night before she heard the roar of the creek
again, showing that a part of the mouth of the
cave was above water.
Dropping off the little shelf which had proved
her salvation, she found the ffoor clear of water
down to within ten feet of the mouth. The rain
still came down, lmt the creek had cut a new
channel above the cave, and the body of water
The storm continued up to within half an
hour of daylight, and Callie could not have left
the cave had she planned to. There was no
place to rest, and she was too anxious to sleep,
and she felt grateful when daylight was strong
enough to enable her to see the rushing current
and the opposite hank. Half an hour after the
rain ceased, the water commenced falling, and
the cave was soon entirely clear.
Callie had,now been many hours without food,
and was hungry and faint. Left to follow’ her
own inclination, she would have deserted the
cave at once and made her way down the river,
but lllack Fox bad warned her in such strong
language that she dared not. move. It would be
a long, lonesome day, hut she knew that it would
not be safe for her to make a move before night.
Perhaps Black Fox would visit her during the i
day to warn her further.
The cave was damp, hut the girl retreated to
the rear wall anil sank down to wait for the
hours to drag themselves along. The day was
bright and cheerful, and by nine o’clock the
stream was back in its old bed, gurgling along
and making such steady music that Callie at
length slept and forgot her hunger and the peril
of her situation. About noon, she suddenly
opened her eyes, having been alarmed by a
slight noise near the mouth of the cave. She
did not iuovp, but keeping her eyes on the op
posite hank, she listened and wondered what
sou ml could have disturbed her.
First came a hunch of feathers, then a dusky ;
face, and finally the form of an Indian passed
the mouth of the cave, following the creek to
ward the river. He passed beyond her vision
in hnif a minute, and was followed by another.
The second one halted, and placing his hands j
on the ledge, he peered into the cave.
She could see the paint on his face and catch
the glisten of his eyes, and it seemed as if he !
could as readily perceive her. ne stood there
for a full minute, and she wondered why he did
i not utter some word to show that he had discov- |
7ered her presence. When she was expecting to I
see him enter tin- cave, he
drew back, looked up the
creek, and then followed
after his companion. His
eyes had been unable to
penetrate to the hack end
of the cave, and he went
away without a suspicion
of the girl’s presence.
For the next half hour.
Callie was all a tremble,
fearful that the savage
would return, hut she
finally became satisfied In-
had gone his way. The
appearance of the Indians
was a further warning to
her not to leave the cave
while daylight lasted, as it
seemed as if they were
searching for her. She
could not sleep again, and
she did not dare move
down to the mouth of the
, cave, fearing that other
Indians would pass. The
afternoon, however, tied
more swiftly than the
morning, and at last six-
saw that sundown was not
When darkness came and
Callie rose up to depart
from the spot which had
so faithfully sheltered her,
she was so lame and sore
that, she could hardly
stand, while her hunger
was so ravenous that her
first idea was to secure
something to eat. The
lllgiu was"pieits.tllt .mi i’..-
vorable, and after quench
ing her thirst, she set off
down the ereek. stopping
now and then to pluck a twig from a hush and
nibble it. The bed of the stream was rough and
uneven, and the creek ran here and there in a
tortuous course, hut she did not dare leave it.
It was a full hour before the girl reached the
river. She had heard siguals which she believed
to come from tlie Indians, but otherwise the
night was very quiet. She was very cautious in
approaching the river, and when she at last
reached tlie mouth of the crei-k, she listened a
long time before daring to move further. Her
plan was to secure a float and launch herself
upon tlie current of the river, trusting to escape
the Indians and to find the block-house. Mov
ing carefully down tlie bank, slie traveled a full
half mile before finding a log hanging to the
shore, and it was only after repeated efforts that
1 she set it afloat.
A stout limb grew from the side of the log,
and seizing this, Callie pushed the float into
deep water, and her voyage had commenced.
Knowing that she was eight or nine miles above
the block-house, she was satisfied to let the log
float as it would for a time.
She had not been afloat a quarter of an hour
when she suddenly found another log driving at
her from the darkness. She had scarcely seen
it when it crashed against her flout, and a head
was raised up over the further side, and a face
peered into hers. She was loosening her grip
on the limb, terribly frightened, when a voice
“Is that you, Will?”
“Father! it’s me,— its Callie!” she replied,
pulling herself up so that he could see her.
“Thank God for this!” he said, as he let his
log go and clasped the limb which supported
It took but a brief time to explain to him how
she had escaped, and her plans for reaching the
block-house. He had been seated all the after
noon on the hank, and was swimming the river
with the intention of reconnoitering tlie Indian
village. After hearing her statement about Will,
he agreed that the scout had already passed
down, and had probably entered the block-house.
He had heard firing during the day, and had
seen Indians coming and going, and it was cer
tain that the siege was still maintained. As they
floated along, he described the location of the
fort and the creek, and laid out the programme
they would have to follow to enter the block
In an hour from the time father and daughter
were thus strangely reunited, old Carson com- i
menced to work the log toward the other shore.
They heard no reports of rifles or signals, and
met with no canoes, and they might get into the I
block-house without trouble.
Half a mile above it they let the log float i
away, and joining hands, they cautiously waded 1
forward, sometimes with only their heads above
water, and sometimes obliged to swim for a few
feet. When near the creek, the water shoaled .
so that they could lie down and creep forward
the trapper s knife and rifle fast and secure, barred from the inside, and it
t*ad already revenged him. was plain that the pioneers had escaped into the
Laskins, the renegade, creek. They would not. leave the block-house
did not make his presence for the forest and its dangers—they must have
known until the band halt- gone by the river. Rushing to the bank and
ed at tlie glade. Theknowl- wading into the stream, the Indians strained
edge that Callie had escap- their eves down the river, which ran straight as
ed from the village and an arrow for several miles.
safely entered the block- S° far away that it was no larger than a canoe
house aroused all the fien- to their sight, was a flat-boat, making its way
dish passions of his heart, down the river, and the savages had been cheated
He knew the strength of tlieir prey,
the fort, and he knew that
the girl was lost to him.
“Von have got to die!”
he said to the trapper, as
the Indians drove a stake
into the ground.
“You here, you reptile !”
growled the old man, turn
ing liis head.
“I shall light the fire to
burn you !” continued Las
“Aye, you may burn!”
replied Carson; “but I’ve
left those behind who will
wipe you out before they
“And I’ll have Callie
again ! I’ll make her my
wife !” hissed Laskins.
The old man made no
reply. He ground his teeth
together,and his eyes light
ed up with a sudden fire.
The Indians, greatly excit
ed, were making prepara
tions to burn him at the
stake. They were all
around him, an
tho-v, , h„l-l Vl vrv.
Will’s situation was full of peril, but he could
not improve it. He attempted to drag himself
to the river, but the pain cut him like a knife,
and he realized that he must remain in the
bushes for a number of hours at least. He had
no remedy, and all he could do was to make his
position on the ground as comfortable as pos
The stormy night found him there, unable to
move a foot, and the pain was so tieree at times
that be was desperate. Thirst came with the
pain, and minutes were like hours to the suffer
ing man. A wolf came creeping through the
hushes as tlie evening grew old, and seeming to
realize the scout's helpless situation, it disap
peared and hunted up several companions. An
hour before midnight, half a dozen gaunt, fierce
beasts were jostling each other in tlie bushes
anil glaring at him with tlieir fiery eyes.
The report of a rifle would start, the search
anew. He sat up, drew bis knife and pulled his
gun across liis lap. The beasts grew bolder as
time passed, and finally one of them sprang at
the injured man and sought to fasten its fangs
in liis throat. Forgetting the pain in his great
danger, Will used liis knife vigorously, and the
wolf sprang into the thicket and fell dead. The
two of living had a horrible feast, and Will feared that
hv 11' e \ ' ‘ : ' it, ,1 lif-1 -• on,! oi-fTnou-or
turn, lney did not, however, tlieir hunger hav-
IOHN KNOX. THE SCOTCH REFOliMKK.
hand over hand. They were side bv side, and
tlie block-house was almost above them, when
an Indian called out from tlx- bank:
•• What’s that moving in tlx- creek ? Who is it? ’
“Callie, keep straight on. and may God bless
ye !” whispered tlie father, as they heard steps
on the hank.
Tlx- suspicious Indian uttered a yell, and Car-
son retreated a few feet, stood up, and witli a
dozen Indians looking down on him, he yelled:
“It’s tlie old man again, whoop !”
They would f put him to ing been partly satisfied by the feast, though
they hung around him through all the long,
lonely hours of night, disappearing only when
Tlie scout’s ankle was terribly swollen, but
the pain was not quite so severe for tlie last hour
or two of night. It would be a day or more be
fore he could place his foot to the ground, and
death anyhow, and the old
man was resolved to revenge himself further.
Laskins had stepped away, and calling him back,
"I suppose my time lias come?”
“ It has !” was the answer.
“ They are going to burn me !”
will be eating into your flesh !”
Drawing in a full breath, the trapper put all
liis strength into one grand effort, and the In
dians holding him were dashed aside. Almost
He made three or four jumps up stream and at the same instant the heroic old man seized
struck out for tlie other shore, yelling again and a tomahawk from Laskins’belt and split the ren-
again as tlie bullets struck the water around him. egade’s skull in twain.
In the midst of the yells and reports, Callie was It all took place in an instant, and before the
T are ! Half an hour from this the flames though he might have dragged himself to the
river during tlie morning, he decided to remain
where lie was for the day. The Indians would
sooner discover him on the bank, and liis hiding-
place in the bushes might not be searched out.
It was a terribly long day, and before tlie wel
come niglit came, Will’s thirst was so great that
lie pulled the deer-grass at his side and chewed
it in hopes to obtain relief. Tlie swelling was
Tlie whole gang of Indians plunged into the
river to capture old Carson. As soon as certain
trapper was slashing right and left. For a mo
ment he drove them, actually cleared tlie glade,
and lie could have bounded into the forest and
perhaps escaped. But lie seemed to have lost
all desire to live. Uttering wild shouts, lie
made him faint, but lie would have to creep*
every inch of the way to the river.
Indians were beard passing up and down the
river during tlie day, but nothing occurred to
alarm the scout. When the evening was an hour
that Callie had reached the block-house,he looked leaped after the retreating savages, and the tom- old, he began his painful journey, and half an
to liis own safety, but it was then too late. The ahawk was red with blood.
Indians were fresh and v.ctive, while he was The surprise was but momentary, and then
worn-out and laboring under sudden surprise. they turned on him, and in a brief instant he
The old man sank down and floated until he was dead, riddled with bullets. They set up a
! had to rise to the surface or drown; but tlie In- shout of exultation, but it ended in a wail,
dians were all around him, and he was discov- Three Indians and the renegade were dead be-
ered as soon as bis head was above water. They side him, two were badly wounded, and there f ee t from the bank, with the water ten feet deep
had left their rifles behind, and now a terrible ! were corpses in the river. They had taken the ( around him. Unable to swim on account of his
light took place. There was no longer any chance old man’s life, but it was not a victory for them,
to dodge them, and standing in water up to liis He had lived his life in the forest and along the
waist, old Car-on drew his knife and prepared river, meeting danger every day and ready to die
to fight the whole gang. any hour, and in dying he had struck a blow
They rushed at him from all sides, striking which the tribe would long remember,
with knives and tomahawks, but he turned and There was no second shout. They made as if a p ((l ,t to pass him less than fifty feet away,
twisted, dodged, advanced and retreated, and they would chop the dead body with their tom- “Flat-boat ahoy!” cried Mill, as his heart
for ten minutes they could not get at him, while aliawaks and gash it with their knives, but the | ea p e d into liis throat; and without waiting for
his long knife sent more than one of them float- remembrance of his bravery restrained them. an an swer, he called out his name, that of Car
ing on the current. They looked into the wrinkled, sun-burned face
The conflict was heard in the block-house, and which was turning white in death, and they left
the pioneers encouraged the old man by shout- the body untouched and bent over their own
ing to him that Callie was safe. They would | dead.
have opened fire on the struggling mass but for It was now an hour past midnight, and after a
fear of injuring him; but they added to the ex- j brief consultation the bodies of the dead Indians : y OU wasn q a decoy by the sound of your voice.”
citement by raking the bank up and down with i were carried to the river, to be taken to the vil- will was instructed to place his hands on the
their bullets. lage in the canoes, and then a new fire was canoe< an ,i his rescuer turned the craft around
The fight against such odds could have hut opened on the block-house. To the surprise of an q u ,g e( j it after the boat, which was soon over-
one ending. Failing to strike him with their the red-skins, no return shots were fired, and no taken. The crew were another lot of pioneers
knives, the Indians finally hurled their toma- j sounds of life reached their ears. They crept g oa ting down the stream in search of pew homes,
hawks at him. One of the weapons struck him nearer and grew bolder, and the flame from their q'hey were briefly informed of all that liad passed,
with terrible force on the head, and he swayed rifles almost illuminated the woods. an< j will was warning them to look out for the
and staggered and lost his knife. They seized One savage crept near enough to discover that boats, which he believed were not many miles
him then, and while their demoniac yells echoed , the door in the wall above the ereek was wide below, when the reports of rifles came up the
far up and down the river, they led him to the open, and for an hour thirty or forty rifles poured r ; ver This was when the Indians were firing
bank and into the forest. The block-house was , a steady fire into the second story of the block- ‘ a j Q jq Carson in the river.
left unwatched in the excitement, and the whole house. Daylight came, and a long, fierce yell After a hurried consultation, the canoe put off
band of red-skins followed the grim old fighting j broke from under the trees. with one of the crew of the flat-boat, whose ob-
trapper under the trees. Half a mile from the ; The fort was deserted ! j ec t was to learn the situatidh below. He reached
They could see this at a glance, and a rush j the block-house to find that the Indians besieg-
was made for the building. Half a dozen In- j n g were in the forest, preparing to torture the
dians scaled the wall and dashed through the brave man they had captured. Making his pres-
rooms. Many articles ot furniture were stored , ence known to the defenders of the fort, it was
against the walls, but the provisions were gone, J planned that those coming down the river should
and the pioneers were gone. The main door was | join the garrison, and when the flat-boat came
hour later, lie was quenching bis thirst at the
river. The bank was lurid with drift-wood, and
securing a float which would sustain part of his
weight. Will trusted himself to the current. He
was hardly clear of the shore when his float
struck a rock, and he found himself a hundred
injury, and all his efforts to get the float off the
rock proving futile, the scout was in despair.
The night grew older very fast, and he liad de
termined to reach the bank or drown, when a
huge black object loomed up in the darkness,
son, and stated his situation.
Tlie boat drifted out of sight without a word
in reply, but in three or four minutes a canoe
appeared alongside the rock, and a voice said:
‘ I’ve heard of Carson and Ross, and I knew
drawn up into the blork-lionse unobserved, as Indians bad recovered from their surprise the slowdy disappearing, and the pain no longer t
her heroic father Lad hoped for.
fort they reached a little glade in the midst of
the wilderness, and halted.
Carson had fully recovered his coolness, and
the thought that they were going to torture him
to death did not make his heart beat faster.
Callie was safe, the block-house was safe, and