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[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; — ok,— FLAT-BOAT, RIVER AM) RIFLE. BY M. WAD. CHAPTER XXVII. 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 had divided. 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 far away. 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 whispered: “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 her. 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 house. 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 kins. “Aye, you may burn!” replied Carson; “but I’ve left those behind who will wipe you out before they rest!” “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. arms. CHAPTER XXX. 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 sible. 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 !” Tlx 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 daylight came. 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, Carson said: "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 CHAPTER XXIX. 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