Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1855-05-07
: VENING STAR.
I q z DAMS PAykBEr.
CnNcInnHn

| J HhonS0o hdu occurred since the
pioneer had cleared his first acre and
buik his cabin. What was then only a
Wild and tangled forest, with game start
ing up at every rod, before the hands Of
labor and cultivation, WAS now blooming
plain dotted with white mans homes
Not now, as once, could the hunter
shoot buck while standing under his
own caves; he must roam now away
over fertile field and grassy meadows,
across the rolling river and round the
foot of a wooded hill, ere he could spy
the wild deer he so loved to hunt. But
they were plenty there, and a smoking
steak or saddle of venison was often
seen upon the settlers board.
" 1t was to hunt deer, to fill up," as
he said, /" the empty spot on the table, -
that Hugh Ely, the warm-hearted pio.
neer of whom We have written, left his
dwelling one morning in winter and has
tened away out of sight of the smoke of
the settlement, and far away from its
sounds. Fleet was his foot, but fleeter
the foot Of the noble buck he had started !:
and not until noon, and when he was
many miles from home did he succeed in
pointing towards it his unerring aim. Ere
it fell, it gave one wild bound and leaped
into tangled brook, and after him went
the hunter, flushed with success, but
weary too, with his heightened chase.
But with wilder bound than the wound.
ed game, and fierce fire in their glarinc
eyes, there burst upon Hugh q band of
Indian warriors, and in moment he was
disarmed and bound, and helpless as the
dying deer which gasped jsst at his feet
Why he was made captive, and why he
was dragged with them so mauy weary
miles. no rest allowed his torn and bleed
ing feet, no sleep to his heavy eyelids,
no hope to his sad lone heart, he never
knew, though he guessed afterwards,
when they finally halted with him at a
hunting ground in Canada, far, away
from that valley which had been so dear a
home that he had been mistaken for ano-
ther, for brother pioneer, who had
once given deadly insult to a fettered
Indian who had afterwards escaped.
Long and weary were the months of
captivity that ensued-long and weary
to the captive, torn SO suddenly from
his household treasures, hut longer and
saddcr, too, to the dear ones left behind ::
for theirs was the agony of suspense,
and of all earth S agonies that is the mast
narrowing and wearing, extinguiShing
even hUpe itself. For a while Hugh
cherished the idea OF escape, but the
close and continued watchfulpess OF his
captors, and his situation in wild, and
save by the red man, unfrequented coun
try, painless only to the moccaslned
foot, after a while, convinced him that it
was best to submit patiently to MS
wrongs, and trust In God.
When he had been with them about
year, his faithful fulfilment of the menial
tasks allotted to him, his cheerful, con.
tented air, his manly bearance Of his
captivity, so impressed the Indians that
they relaxed their severity, and occa-
sionally allowed him to wander off a
piece into the woods, or ramble beside
the river. He was seated one bright au-
tumnal afternoon on log that had fallen
close to the water edge, sadly musing
on his lone and desolate condition, and
wondering if he should ever again see
the faces of those whose memory was so
ht ly, when suddenly, low cooing sound
like the notes of dove, broke the deep
silence that reigned. Hugh heard it for
some moments without observing it very
closely, for he was intently looking into
his darkened future. But after a while
it struck him that the sound was an un-
usuai one for the spot, and somewhat
versed in Indian ways, he recognized it
as one of those signs by which they ex
press sympathy or affection, and be gazed
cautiously around to see if some human
form was not concealed in the vicinity /;
wild with joy at the thought that amid
the dusky warriors that surrounded him,
one there might be whose heart had vet
loving pulse. A clump of low, tangled
bushes grew just back Of his rude seat,
the only spot close by that could con.
ceal friend or foe. He fancied as be
gazed there, he beheld them move-he
was certain of it-and it could not be
the wind, for scarcely breath was STIR
ring. Then noiselessly some branches
were pushed aside, and from the opening
there appeared the face Of a stranger In
dian. Intently it looked upon the cap
tive, so intently that the gaze was like a
marvellous fascination to him, and he
stood rooted to the spot. In a few mo.
ments the branches were pushed still
further aside, and brawny red arm was
visible. 1t held in its fingers q pair of
moccasins; it turned up and down and
around, and then pointed them south.
ward, while from the stern lip issued
the same cooling sound. The heart of
Hugh looked up with a quickened life,
and he was starting to the side of the
unknown, but as be felt now, friendly
stranger, when the signal whoop for his
return was sounded from the camp.
The Indian pressed his hand to his mouth
in token of secresy, and darted through
the bushes and out of sight so quickly,
that it seemed to the observer hat the
ear tn must have swallowed him up.
More braveiy than ever did Hugh now