The Shasta courier., 1858-06-26

fore; but still the wisest and best of men have
lost their lives by giving ears to the most earn
| est appeals of humanity. You understand what
/ mean? White men, apparently in the great
est distress will hail your boat, represent them
selves as having just escaped from the Indians,
and beg of you, for the love of God, in the
Hlest piteous tones to come to their relief; but
/ turn deaf ear to them-to each ard all OF
them-eyen should you know the pleaders to
be of your own kin for in such case your
own brother might deceive you-not wilfully
and voluntarily, perhaps-but because of being
/ goaded ON by the savages, themselves conceal
| ed Yes, such things have been known one
/ friend being thus used to lure another TO his
| destruction and so be cautious vigilant, brave
and true, and may the good God keep you all
| from HARM"
| As he finished speaking, Blanche proceeded
/ TO take an affectionate leave of all, receiving
many tender message for her parents from
those who held them in love and veneration
and the boat swung out, and began TO float
down with the current, now fairly entered upon
the most dangerous portion Of q long and peril
Gus journey.
The father of Blanche Colonel Philip Ber-
trand, was a native of Virginia, and a descend
ant of one of the HugenGt refugees, who fled
from their native land after the revocation of the
edict of Nantz in 1865. He had been an officer
of some note during the Revolution-a warm
political and personal friend of the author OF
the Declaration of Independence-and gen.
tleman who had always stood high in the esteem
of his associates and cotemporaries
Though at one time man of wealth, Colo
mel Bertrand had lost much, and suffered much
/ through British invasion and when, shortly
after the close of the war, he had met with a
| few more serious reverses he had been fain TO
accept grant of land, near the Falls of the
Ohio, now Louisville, rendered him by Virginia,
which then hold jurisdiction over the entire
territory now constituting the State of Ken
lucky.
The grant had decided tAe Colonel upon
seeking his new possessions and building up a
new home in the then Far West, and as his wife
had insisted upon accompanying him on his
FIRST tour he had asSeated to her desire, on co.,
dition that Blanche should be left among her
friends, till such time as place could be pre-
pared which might in some degree be consider
ed fit abode for one so carefully and tenderly
roared
Blanche would gladly have gone with her pa
rents but on this point her father had been in
exorable-declaring that she would have to re-
main at the East till he should see proper to
send for her; and as he was a man of positive
| had been settled without argument.
| When Colonel Bertrand removed to the West,
| Eugene Fairfax as we have seen, accompanied
him and coming of age shortly after, he had
accepted the liberal offer of his noble benefac-
tor, to remain with him in the capacity of pri-
vate secretary and confidential agent. On ta-
king possession of his grant, the Colonel had
almost Immediately erected fort, and offered
such inducements to settlers to speedily col
| lect around him quite a little community-of
| which, as a matter of course, he became the
head and chief; and to supply the wants of his
own family and others, and increase his gains
| in legitimate way, he had opened store and
| filled it with goods from the eastern marts,
which goods were transported by land over the
mountains to the Kanawha, and thence by wa
/ ter to the Falls of the Ohio whence their re-
moval to Fort Bertrand became an easy matte :.
/ To purchase and ship these goods and deliver q
| package of letters to friends in the East, Eu-
gene had been thrice dispa!ched-his third
| commission also extending to the cscorting of
| the heiress, with her servants, to her new home.
This last commission had been so far executed
at the time chosen for the opening Of our store,
as to bring the different parties to the mouth of
the great Kanawha, whence the reader has seen
them slowly floating off upon the still, CLASSY
bosom of " the belle of rivers"
The day, which was an auspcious one, was
passed without anything occurring worthy of
note, until near 4 o'clock, when, as Blanche
was standing on the fore part of the deck gaz-
! ing at the lovely scene which surrounded her,
she seemingly flying body suddenly leave
| n limb Of giant tree, (whose mighty branches
/ extended far over the river and near which the
boat was then swayed by the action of the cur
! rent, } and alight with crash upon the deck OF
! the boat, not more than eight feet from her.
One glance sufficed to show her what the object
was and to freeze the blood in her veins. The
glowing eyes of huge panther met her gaze.
The suddenness of the shock which this discov-
| cry gave her overpowering. With deaf
ening shrek she fell upon her knees and clasp
ed her hands before her breast. The panther
crouched for his deadly leap, but ere he sprang,
the hunting knife of Eugene Fairfax, (who with
the steersman, was the only person on deck be-
sides Blanche, was buried to the hilt in his
side, infllcting n severe but not fatal wound.
! The nfurated beast at once turned upon Eu-
gene, and deadly struggle ensued. But it was
short one. The polished blade of the knife
played back and forth like lightning flashes,
aad at every plunge it was buried to the hilt in
the psnther'S body, who soon fell to the deck,
dragging the dauntless Eugene with him.
On seeing her protector fall, Blanche ut
tered another shrek and rushed to his aid
/
| The boatmen gathered round, and the savage
monster was literally hacked in pieces with their
knives and hatchets, and Eugene covered with
blood, was dragged from under his carcass
Supposing him TO be dead or mortally wounded
Blance threw her arms around his neck, and
gave way to a passionate burst of grief. But he
was not dead-he was not even hurt, with the
exception Of few slight scratches. The blood
with which he was covered was the panther's,
not his own. But Blanches embrace was his
priceless treasure-an index of her heart 5
emotions and affections 1t was to color his
whole future life, as will be seen in the progress
of our story.
Slowly and silently, save the occasional creal,
dip, and plash of the steermans oar the boat of
our voyagers was born along upon the bosom of
the current on the third night of the voyage.
The hour was waxing late, and Eugene, the on
ly one astir except the watch, was suddenly
startled, by rough hand being placed upon bis
shoulder, accompanied by the words, in the
| gruff voice of the boatman:
| 81 say, Capn, here's trouble !"
"What is it, Dick?' inquired Eugene, start
ing to his feet
Don't Won see thar's a heavy fog rising