Shreveport daily news., 1861-04-23
Selected Expressly for the Ne,cs
The First and Last Sacrifice.
AN ADVENTURE AT MURDER CREEK.
I A Tale of the Wiiderness.I
lS.n>;<,r I-Iy>fN
| iCONCLCDE |


of ashes" which he had brought with
him from the shores Of Lake Ontario,
under the impulse of sentiment so
well known to exist among the In
dian tribes-the desire of mingiing
their own dust, in death, with that of
their fathers and their kindred.
noticed, however, that my guide pass
ed this simple sylvan sepulcehrn, with
ont once turning his eyes towards it.
We continued our progress through
the forest, and l soon began to per
ceive we We're ascending a rising
ground, though the dense foliage
which hemlned us in on every side
prevented me from distinguishing the
height or the extent Of the activity.
Presently / heard the loud din and
roar Of waters; and we had proceeded
in the direction Of the sound, whose
increasing noise indicated our gradual
approximation to it, for rather more
than half 4 mile, when the Indian
stopped, and l found myself all at
once on the brink ot' Il tremendous
whirlp pool. | looked down from a
height Of nearly two hundred feet
into the deep ravjne below, through
which the vexed stream beloved and
whirled till it escaped through an
other chasm, and plunged into the re-
cesses of the wood. 1t was an awful
moment! The profound gloom of the
place-rthe uproar OF the eddying
vortex beneath-the dark and rugged
abyss which yawncd before me,
where huge trees might be seen toss
ing and writhing about like things OF
life tormented by the angry spirit of
the waterS-the unknown purpose Of
the being who had brought me hther
and who stood by my side in sullen
silence, prophetic, to my mind, Of u
thousand horrible Neutrality-suspicious.
ed altogether a combination of circ>sm-
stances that might have summoned
fear into bolder heart than mine was
at that instant. At length the Indian
spoke.
"Do you mark that cedar, shooting
out midway from the rock! Uither
brought the white man, who DOOM
cd me to hc born on a fathers grave
said to him. You slew my fatherr
II shook. as my mother had done;
tn,' the fear Of death was upon him.
NJ fathers blood has left a stain
,pou YOU which must be washed out
~ ,hu~c dark waters He would
l;;t',' tc,i 10 ;he woods, Ike a wounded
.p.1'hcr; but grasped him thus.
" hiding his sinewy arm tightly
ou,u me and cried, Come with me
TO the spirit World and hear me tell
ny. father how have clothed myself,
as with a robe, in the blood OF white
men, to rev enyc bis death. Come and
,rc him smile upon me, when | point
to the blood Of his slaycr!'
"How he shrickcd when | sprung
with him into the abyss! He rolled
from me, and l heard the plunge Of
his body into the roaring gulf below,
but the Great Spirit spread forth that
cedar, to catch me in my own descent,
for | lay i'll its green arms, as the
young bird in its sheltered nest. Why
was kept from my father2 could
not go to him. The branches chung
to me; and from the depths of the
forest there came a voice on the wind,
saying. 'Return!' planted my foot
on the rock; at one bound | clutched
yon topmost bough; / swung myself
on that .juttinS crag, and reached the
spot where now | stand"
AS he spoke these words he quilted
his hold of me, to my infinite relief.
We We're so near the edge Of the
precipice, and his manner was so en-
ergetic, / might say almost convulsed,
from the recollection Of his consum-
mating act of revenge, that ! felt no
small alarm lest an accidental move
ment should precipitate us both into
the frightful chasm, independently of