Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1861-05-15
now bear off his daughter to the wigwam of

brilliant laurelS on the battlefield, and felt
the war-spirU strong within him again, as he
leaped mp and prepared himself to encounter
new foe He carried brace of pistols and
double barreled fowlng piece, and with a
soldiers thoughtfulness, he had Immediately
after supper Withdrawn the damp charges and
dried the three before the fire. 1t was short
work for him to reload them now, and besides
these he loaded pair of pistols which the
trapper's daughter handed him. He then un-
sheathed his hunting knife and felt his blade
to make sure that it was keen and polished.
And then he looked for spot where he could
ambuscade himself and arms. A little tent
bed occupied one of the recesses which the
huge fire place formed on both sides, and this
draped with deer skins dressed to a beau
tifd whiteness. In that he ensconced himself,
while Eleanor threw herself on the couch he
left, feigning sleep but ciutching nervously
her pistols.
Hugh's ear was keen. but although the tenn
pest had lulled, and only an occasional wild sob
ran round the cabin, he could detect no sounds
that told of human foes. After while the
howl of a wolf was heard. As it died away he
saw the two dogs leave the door, beside which
they stood like petrifactions, and advance eau
tlously to the hearth, and then it seemed to
the listener that dull sound was heard on the
roof. 1t instantly occurred to him that the
foe would strive to make their ingress down
the chimney, thinking, doubtless, to find their
captive alone and asleep, and fetter her with
little trouble. Through the loophole, which
was slit in the hanging, he watched (oh how
intently y the huge fireplace, whose brands
had all burned down TO embers. After while
bis heart leapcd up with strange, wild thrill,
as he mOccasined foot appear. The
dogs saw ii quite as soon as he. and withdrew
at to the side of their mistress. Very
cautiously did the Indian descend, but at
length he landed safely and noiselessly. But
no sooner had he shaken and stretched him.
self out to his full dimensions, ridding himself
of tee cramps with which his descent had tor
tured him, than the largest of the dogs, with
out single warning growl, dashed at his
throat. and clenched it with such a convusive
hold that the savage fell with dull, dead
sound. The other dog fastened himself to his
knees, and although he struggled violently,
yet the surprise too sudden, and the at
tack too strange and powerful for the victim
to make at once successful resistance.
Hugh felt that the time for action was come,
but not Wishing to alarm the Indians who
might be outside, he lett his retreat with on
ly his knife, which was soon buried deep in
the heart of the red man. There was culver
of the muscles, Stifed groan, and he lay
dead before him. Eleanor sprung from her
couch and gaZed earnestly at him, then turn
ing to Hugh said quickly ssIt is as suppos-
ed. This is Wa-wa-tu-sa, the friend of Hi
wa-see, the young chief who sought me for a
bride. He has thought TO enter this way and |
open the door for him and his other braves |
Get back for they will soon suspect some foul
play.''
1t was as she said. The door was cautious
ly handled, and then the notes of bird went !
around the cabin, and then all WAS /
still. But the soldiers ear, keener by dis |
trust, soon noted the same dull sound on the |
roof, and as it continued longer than before, |
he judged correctly that the remaining Sava-
ges. thinking that something had befalen their |
spy, were coming in their whole strength up
on them. With one of his pistols cooked and |
pointed through the ioop-hole, he watched |
intentIy. 1t was not long ere a second foe
had descended and bent with an amazed look
over his PROSTATE friend. A he lifted uo
his head he gave tremendous whoop; but it
was the last sound that ever burst from his
lips-a shot from the soldiers pistol entered
his heart. Then rushing from his conceal
ment, Hugh stationed himself before the
couch Of Eleanor, handing her his pistol, bade
her reload at once.
He had scarcely reached her when third
Indian spraDg rather than crept down the ori-
flee; but as he Strengthened himself after his
leap, full charge from the fowling-piece
threw him upon the other two, heavy and
soon cold burden. The fourth warrior that
descended was not easily overcome. 1t
vas Hi-wa-see himself, and burning with love
FOR the white girl, and rage toward her defend
sr, who had SLAIN his best braves, he sprang so |
on Hugh that his gun vas knock ed |
rom his hand, and in an instant he wrest-
ling with the brawny Indian. The dogs fas-
ened themselves on their ntruder's legs, but
heir bite, fierce and intent as it was seemed
lot to annoy him in the least, and Hugh was
asst yielding to the superior physical form of
lis foe when pistol shot echoed through the
cabin, and he felt his enemy's grasp relax and
he warm blood oozing from his breast and
tripping over his own hands.
sYou have played brave part" said Hugh,
md releasing himself he beheld the Indian
eel and finally to fall to the floor. "Your
lover will never again throw his toma-
lawk, or swing to his belt the CORY scalp.
Good heavens, but it is fearful sight!''
There came faint whisper from Hi-wa-see.
Eleanor went and knelt beside him, and wiped
'way the death-dews which her own hand had
tarted.
ssProud white father,'; breathed he, sdhink
indian no good-no fit to have his pale child
IN wgwan Of chiefs son. Hi-wa-see say she
hall. He make one skin, white as her face
Ioft as her cheek-white buffalo robe to sleep
IN. He love her-he carry her all the days
lcre on his big heart-like white squaw carry
title pappoose. Proud white father say no.
10 call Indian dog, and say bad things. Hi
va-see remember-he wait till good-he kill
I'D white father-then came for white squaw
she kill him-but he love her-hate her
White braye-though hate him, love her.''
The words were breathed in such broken
English that only one used to the Indian could
ave understood him, and as the last word
ell from his lips, he gasped, and the fatal
pasm finished all.
sMy poor father, my unhappy father!''
ried the orphaned girl. ssTo this-an un-
imely death in the forest--did thy proud pas
ions bring thee. Alas feared thee while
living, more than 1 loved thee yet now that
hou art gone, what will become of me-moth-
rless, fatherless, friendless.''
Noy b.,r |