The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1838-09-22

burned like wood-chuck in his hold-suick-
en- TO death without chance OF dealing one
blow for his defence! My father my poor
father! Oh, God cannot bear it.n
But the youth knew not the self-renovating
spirit of life's spring-tim when he thought
that his first sorrow, bitter as it was, would
blast his manhood forever. A first griefnever
blights the heart of man. The sapling hickc-
ry may be bowed-may be shattered by the
storm, but il has an elasticity and toughness Of
fibre that keep it from perishing. II is only
long exposure to succession Of harsh and
biting winds that steals away its vigor, drinks
up its sap Of life, and sends chill at last to
the root which nourished its vitality.
That day of cruel woe, like all others, had
an end for the young forester; and when the
waning moon rose upon the scene of his
ruined home, her yellow light disclosed the
boy kneeling upon the sod wherewith he had
covered up the bones of his only earthly re-
latives. She, too, was sole witness to the
vow of undying vengeance which he swore
upon the spot against the whole race Of red
men.
The seasons had twice gone their rounds
since destruction had come over the house of
the settler, and his son had never yet revisit
ed the spot, which, with the exuberant growth
Of an American soil, had partly relapsed into
It's native wildness, from the tangled vines and
thickets which had overgrown the clearing
The strong arm Of the government had for q
while driven the Indians beyond the reach Of
private vengeance but now they were again
returning to their favorite hunting ground
north Of the Mohawk, and around the
sources of the Hudson. Some even had
ventured into Albany to dispose Of their packs
of skins, and carry back supply Of powder
and other necessaries Of the hunter of the
wilderness. 1t was two of these that the
orphan youth logged from the settlements, on
their way through the northern forests, to the
very spot where his oath Of vengeance had
been recorded The sequel may best be told
in the words of an old hunter, under whose
guidance made my first and only visit to the
Dead Clearing.
" 1t was about two o'clock Of hot August
afternoon, that Ben, after thus following up
their trail for three days, came upon the two
Injuns Just where the moose-runaway makes
an opening in the forest, and let's the light
down upon yon willow that still fourishes be-
side the old hemlock. The Iniuns were sit
ting beneath the willow, thinking themselves
sheltered by the rocky bank opposite, and
mass Of underwood which had shot up round
the top Of an oak, which had been twisted off
in tornado in some former day, and then lay
imbedded in weeds beneath the knoll. But
few yards from this bank, in that thicket round
the roots of yon messy old beach, Ben found
shelter, from which, at any moment, he
could creep up and cover either with his fire
from behind the knoll. But as he had only a
ne-barrel piece, it required full as cool hand
as his TO wait and take both the creatures at
one shot. Bloody Ben, though, was jist the
chap 10 do it. Like enough he waited there or
man9uvred round for an hour to get his
chance, which did come at last, howsumdever.
The Injuns, who, in their own way, are mighty
takers, you must know-that is, when they
have really something to talk about-got into
some argument, wherein figures, about which
they know mighty little, were concerned. One
took out his scalpng-knife to make marks
upon the earth to help him; while the other,
trying to make matters clearer with the aid of
his fingers, their heads came near each other
jist as you may have seen those Of white peo-
pie when they get parroiching right in airnest.
So they argufed and they counted, getting
nearer and nearer as they became more eager,
till their skulls, almost touching, came within
the exact range of Ben's rifle and then Ben,
he ups and sends the ball SO clean through
both, that it buried itself in sapling behind
them. And that, think, was pretty web for
the first shot Of a lad of eighteen; and Bloody
Ben himself never confessed to making bet
ter one afterwards.
The tourist, who should now seek the scene
of this adventure, would, perhaps, look in vain
for the graceful exotic that once marked the
spot The weeping willow, which was only
thrifty sapling when the Indians met their
death beneath its fatal shade, was changed
into an old decayed trunk, with but one living
branch when beheld it; and ponderous
vine was rapidly strangling the life from this
decrepid limb. The hardy growth Of the ma
tive forest had hardly obliterated the improve
ments of the pioneer. The wild animals, in
drinking from the spring hard by, had dislodg-
ed the fiat stones from its brink tall weeds
waved amid the spreading pool; and the fox
had made his den in the rocky knoll upon
whose side once stood the settlers cabin of
The DEAD CLEARING.-Bentley's Miscel-
iany for August.