The Shreveport weekly news., 1861-05-06
fcoNr,NusprRoM FIRST PAGE.

tree that perishes, or be cut down like
the corn that is ripe. am the. last
Of my race, and there is no hand but
my own to send rue to the Spirit
World!'
At these words he took his scalp
ng-knife from his belt. and. with a
firm unninching hand. drew it slowly
across the abdomen! The blood
gushed-the bowels fell ont. I could
see no more. Staggering towards q
tree,I hid my face in its luxuriant
branches. But still heard his voice
family and more Misunderstanding
the words, Il go to my fathers-1
am the last Of my race! l am the
last Of my race!"-till CULTURAL. indis-
tinct gaspings,-a sudden fall, and a
dreadful silence,-proclaimed that he
was corpse!
And was alone, with that dead
man before ne-and in the solitude of
mighty forests and not sound disturb
ing that solitude but the dripping of
his warm blood upon the dry leaves
beneath! And where was now the
living guide to lead me through their
labyrinths, to chase from dropping
spirits the CHASTITY horror which rear
ed itself before them, that, perchance.
might never tell the tale Of all ! had
witnessed7 While l stood lost in
these agonizing fears, feeble and irres-
olute under these hosrid forehodings, /
heard the fresh breeze careering
through the leaves above my head
The rustling noise seemed like aerial
voices calling upon me to depart. l
remembered the words Of the Indian,
and looked up with grateful hope to
my viewless pilots, who were to con-
duct me on my painless way. Sum
moning all the energy 1 could COM
mand, I assembled the platform, COW
cred the bleeding body Of the warrior
with his buffalo shroud, and then left
him, in his mansoleum of the desert,
to rot as nobly as Egyptian monarchs
in their colossal pyramids.
l found little difficulty in regaining
the cabin of the Indian, having thrice
trod the path that led to it. / entered
it for a moment, and thought how soon
the hand Of desolation would crumble
it down. His bow and culver with
it's sheaf Of arrows lay upon the
ground. These l possessed myself
of and mounting nay horse. sea forth,
with an anxious mind, upon my .iourn-
ey. watched the gigantic trees that
seemed to frown upon me. marked
the direction in which their leaves
were slantea by the wind, and follow
ed 1t. It was so dark when l trav-
ersed this route in the first grey OF
the morning. that I was unable to
satisfy myself, by any one object, as
to being in the right path. Sill,
wherever there was turning that cor
responded with the apparent course
of the wind, I unhesitatinglv took it;
and it was with no ordinary emotions
of delight, after riding about an hour
that found my attention directed
by the sudden starting Of my horse
to All object which I instantly recog.
missed as the carcase of the wolf which
the Indian had destroyed. This gave
me confidence; and before noon I was
once more at Murder Greek, that deeI
dark glen where I had encamped out
the preceding night. Here I haltet
for a time, rejoicing in what l con
slider as no other than miraculous.
escape, while seated on the blackenet
stump where first beheld the Indiar
like u visinn of disturbed sleep
What my reflections We're, | will no
attempt to describe; nor would it sui
with the character of this narrative
to relate the comparatively ordinary
occurrences which befell me on tn
rest Of my journey to Savannah.
The Prospects.
1t is very difficult to surmise the re