The Shreveport weekly news., 1861-04-29
EXPERIMENTATION FIRST PAGE

(coNTINuEDFRoM 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 roe to the Spirit
Worlde'
At these words he took his scalp
ing knife from his belt, and, with a
firm unhinching hand, drew it slowly
across the abdomen! The blood
gushed-the bowels fell out. I could
see no more. Staggering towards a
tree,I hid my face in its luxuriant
branches. But still I heard his voice
family and more faintly-repeating
the words, Il go to my fathers-l
am the last of my race! ! am the
last Of my race!-till cultural. indis-
tinct gaspings,-a sudden fall, and a
dreadful siience,-proclairned that he
was corpse!
And I was a,ss,e, 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, perchancc.
Knight never tell the tale of ali l had
witnessed? While l stood lost in
these agonizing fears, feeble and irres-
olute under these ho:rid forebodings, I
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 We're to con-
duct me on my painless way. Sum
moning all the energy 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 marsoleum of the desert,
to rot as nobly as Egyptian monarchs
in their colossal pyramids.
found little difficulty in regaining
the cabin of the Indian, having thrice
trod the path that led to it. ] entered
it for 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 my horse. SET forth,
with an anxious mind, upon my journ-
ey. / Watched the gigantic trees that
seemed to trown upon me, marked
the direction in which their leaves
were slantea by the wind, and follow
ed it. 1t was so dark when l trav-
ersed this route in the first grey of
the morning, that 1 was unable to
satisfy myself, by any one object, as
to being in the right path. Still.
wherever there was Il turning that cor
responded with the apparent course
OF the wind, l unhesitasingly took it;
and it was with no ordinary emotions
of delight, after riding about an hour,
that l found my attention directed,
by the sudden starting Of my horse,
to an object which / instantly recog-
missed as the carcase of the wolf which
the Indian had destroyed. This gave
me confidence; and before noon was
once more at Murder Creek, that deep
dark glen where I had encamped out
the preceding night. Here halted
for time, rejoicing in what con-
slider as no other than a miraculous
escape, while seated on the bIackened
stump where I first beheld the Indian
like Il visinn of disturbed sleep
What my reflections We're, l will not
attempt to describe; nor would it suit
with the character Of this narrative,
to relate the comparatively ordinary.
occurrences which befell me on the
rest Of my journey to Savannah.