The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-06-03
Geleftc0.
The Indian Captive.
BY HoRATIo KING.

In the month of Sptember, II, my
health having become considerably i'm
paired, was advised by my friends ant
the physician of the village, to journey
as means of improving it. Possessing
naturally disposition to become ac
quainted with the situation of the coun
try, especially in my own State anC
neigbborhood, readily acceded to the
advice But the next question which
arose was, where should | travel-hoN
far, and in what parts 1t was agreed
finally that l should 90 to the White
Mountains. l accordingly prepared fol
my journey and on the morning Of the
9th Of September, after receiving from
my friends their united wishes that
might have pleasant season, and re-
turn in improved health, took my
departure for the beautiful village OF
-, situated on the banks of the
kennebec, in the State of a aine. The
distance from my own residence to the
mountains was mostly performed in car
riages, with an occasional ride on horse
back. On arriving at Me hospitablc
mansion of Mr.. -, the dwelling near
est the mountains, l had, much to my
satisfaction, become recruited, and so
much improved in strength, as to feel
almost like climbing the mountain at a
breath. Singularly enough, as l thought,
L happened there at time when no
other stranger was present-not solita-
ry being could be found to accompany
me to the heights of Mount Washington,
even so much as humble guide. But
| was now determined not to return
without seeing the originally proposed
end of my journey. To scale the
heights before me, a stranger and alone,
was, to be sure, no desirat le task but
my ambition led me to attempt it, even
at the hazard of losing my way, and be-
coming exhausted. l started from my
friends at eight o'clock in the morning
Of delightfully."- pleasant day, and before
the sun had reached the middle of his
daily course, was well nj b at the sum
init Of the mountain yet not without
feeling that / could not endure such ex-
ertion with the freedom of one who had
never been broken down by disease. 1t
is needless to say that | amused myself
with the grand prospect afforded and
the wild scenery around, until it became
necessary to return. l made on my
ascension by the path, such marks and
observations as | thought would enable
me to find my way back without difficult
ty. But | was mistaken. The entire
afternoon was consumed in fruitless en-
deavors to find the path which had
followed on going up. | was now weary
and faint, and as the sun sunk beneath
the western horizon, he seemed to tell
me, in fearful language, that should
never look upon his countenance, nor
feel his enlivening influences again
But there was no time to be lost-my
life was in danger. flew first to one
extremity of the heighth which l had
iascended, and then to the other, little
removed from arrangement in viewing
the awful horrors of my situation
Alas night had come over me-a faint,
fatigued and sick being, and almost un
manned by fear. But what was my sur
prise, mingled with joy, at this crisis,
on seeing at littl, distance from me,
and coming toward me, tall, but we'll
proportional man, with musket in his
hand, whom / took to be an Indian.
"Ah, young man." said he, on COM
ing up, what has brought you to this
lonely place at this hour of the night
Have you no guideS no protector, no
means of securing yourself tonight from
this cold, damp air 20
/" None," said 1 and Immediately
informed him of my adventures, and the
reason of my being thus exposed.
Rash and unfortunate youth 20 said
the stranger, "you deserve some pun
Iishment for thus voluntarily exposing
yourself to danger and death-have you
no food with you 'n sl oiI 'rf
/" Not one morsel |" / answered. /" In
my hurry and anxiety to reach the
mountain this morning, l entirely forgot
to bring any with me-"
Putting his hand into his pocket, he
drew forth small piece of broiled meat
and slice of bread. Here" said he,
eat this; it may afford you little
strength, and prevent you from becom-
ling entirely exhausted. A singular
freak for pale face like your' he