Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1847-03-25

, companion of his former days. He arriv
ed, at length, within short distance u
their home; having previously sent mes
, scnger to inform them of his Intentions
After having found a safe retreat for his
band, upon the shore Of the Lake, he
) sprang into a canoe that one Of the party
had found concealed near by, belonging,
probably, to some Indian that was then
somewhere in the region, and met the
hunter as before described.
1t was time Of trembling anxiety TO
the hunter, when the war broke out. lie
was situated in the heart Of the Indians
country, who, generally, were sworn en-
emies to the whites, but he put his trust
in that Being who holds the destiny Of all
nations in his hand, and feared no ILL
Time passed on. The solitary dwelling
of the hunter had as yet escaped the plague
Of savage warfare. There were, in The
immediate vicinity, but few Indians, Of
a stdecaying tribe, whose chief was a
tall, athletic youth. He once had supped
at the hunters home, and slept beneath
his roof. He had gazed oft and ardenty
upon his daughter, and sighed. AS he
was about 10 depart, he drew the father
aside, and unfolding to him his love. de-
manded the fair maiden for his BRIDE
But as the father told him of the lar-o0'
stranger, TO whom she was betrothed, the
Indian chief took his departure with sor-
rowful countenance, though lit up, now
and then, with frown. This the father
did not see, but thought him still kindly
disposed But danger often threatens
most where there is no fear
1t was the day previous to the arrival
of Charles HARDWOOD, that message came,
informing the hunter and his daughter Of
his expected visit. 1t was day of rejoic-
ing. 1t was that afternoon, while her
father had gone on the chase, that Ella
I had wandered little from her home,
and in the lullness of her heart, was living
over again the past, She delighted to
Iinger IN memory upon the happy hours
she had spent with her be,rothed and in
her Joy, broke forth in song that they
were accustomed to sing together, in by
gone days. The sound of her mellow,
rich.toned voice rang through the forest,
while the chorus was joined by the sweet
symphonies Of the sylvan choir, III charm
ing melody.
The last strain of her song had scarcely
ceased TO echo IN the distant glen, when a
tall savage sprung from behind neighbor.
ing tree and stood by her side, "a moment
more, and she was cIasped to the breast
of the Indian chief She uttered pierre
ing shrek, and tainted.
'Nayn exclaimed tho savage, Il have
thee now, my lone dove of the mountain.
Thou shalt find in me mate,-tbou, my
bride, shall sing to me thy sweetest songs
in a distant home
Saying this. he encircled her waist with
his brawny arm, and bearing her alo!t,
bounded to the forest.
Stand! cried voice in thunder, as the
Indian sped around small thicket, too
difficult to penetrate. Stand! or fire.
The Indian paused, and to his asonish-
ment beheld The father, but few feet in
advance, with loaded rifle to his shoulder
and his eye already leveling the barrel al
his heart Quick as thought, he trans
formed the nerveless form of the daughter
in front, for his shield The rife dropped
from the fathers hand. Oh! what would
the young savage then have given for his
own rihe;-but that, he had left behind,
in his haste TO escape. He now felt for
his scaIping. knife, but that, too, had been
lost in his flight. The father saw his de-
lenceess state, aud snatching bis own
dirk from his gird!e, sprang forward, aud
would have sent the blade to his heart, had
not the savage regarding his motions, drop
ped the burden aud took refuge by flight,
A gain the fathers rifle was to his Shout
der, and the leaden messenger sped along
IFS course. But so unnerved was tie Ia
TIERS arm, when danger had passed, tina,
the whizing ball only grazcd the flesh of
the fleeing Indian, aud served hut to
quicken his steps. lie now snatched up
The llleess daughter, bore her to the near
est stream, and bathed her temples in its
cooling flood. She soon revived, and,
opening her eyes, exclaimed
oh! my father! am | sa(e?-am | res
cued?-is it not all dream, waking from
which, | shall find an awful realilyT
The father pressed her to his bosom, as
t to assure her OF her safety. When she
was sufficiently recovered, he accompani-
I'd her home and explained the cause Of
Ter rescue. He was just returning from
he chase, when attracted by her scream
lie had hdstened to her relief, and surpris-
I'd the Indian just when he thought his
etreat secure. A few hours served to
Iniet her fears, and the danger she had
encountered was almost forgotten in the
oyfuI anticipation Of meeting her lover. I
TO DE CONCLUDED. /