The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1872-04-26
Young Folks.
Kameda The Indian Princess.

knmeia The Indian Princess.
There was log block house, across the
river, built by the early settlers, for
their protection against the savages.
There were portfolios in every side
through which pointed the guns that
never missed their mark.
After Kameda had warned Phineas
Muntin Of his danger, she gathered the
Indian canoes, that lay along the beach,
lashed them together, rowed all to the
opposite shore, and hurried up to the
black house.
A score OF sturdy men sat about the
door. The smoke of their pipes circled
in waving clouds above them; their
CHEEKY laugh rang upon the evening air.
They dreamed not of danger.
The dark haired maiden glided into
their midst. Gloom shadowed her brow;
her eyes flashed fire.
"The white man is doomed" she
said. "The Indian loves revenge. His
knives are sharp his fires are hot.
When the moon rises the Muntins will
die! Oswa has said it; he is storm
in battle. Listin to words of Kameda.
The white man is waiting for help; his
brothers have strong arms and brave
hearts; they Will save him."
The men believed the words of
Kameda's warning, and sprang to their
feet, aghast.
"Quick ito arms !" they cried; and in a
moment every man was armed, and
ready for the rescue. Then they looked
for Kameda, but she was gone. She
took the lightest canoe and skinned
the river like a swan. The doomed ones
were waiting at the willows.
The boat was sinking the boat sank
The Indians rushed shrieking into the
water and flourished their tomahawks.
Glints of moonlight danced upon their
knife blades. The wolf was sure of his
prey.
The boat sank. The children could
not swim; they clung to their father /;
but he struggled with savages, breast
deep in the water. His hands were busy
with death
Kameda caught the babe in her arms;
Oswa was foremost; he snatched the
child from her and hurled it away.
There was plash far out in the river |;
circling waves fled from the spot little
bubbles quivered above it, for moment
and vanished.
Phineas Muntin was mighty in
strength; the savages fell before him.
He leaped upon Oswa, wrenched the
hatchet from his hand, and aimed
blow; but many arms bore him down;
the water closed over him
The dip of oars sounded in the dis
tance; Kameda heard it. A smile Of
triumph lit her tawny features; she
turned madly upon the savages.
"Hold ~ she cried, "Kameda COM
mands her word is mighty. Death to
all who dares her vengeance!"
"Cowards listen to the words of a
woman ~ said Oswa.
His band returned to their work.
Fiercely swelled the war whoop; wild
the cry of distress.
Kameda sprang upon Oswa, clasped
her arms about his neck; but she strug-
gled with the whirlwind. Her arms
were as grass.
"Oswa is grey haired squaw," she
cried. "He makes war with pappooses."
Her words were air; he cast her from
him, and raised his hatchet. His eyes
were flaming arrows.
The plash of oars came nearer. There
was report of rifles, and then score
of strong men cast themselves upon the
startled savages. Help had come to the
white man, but it was too late! Death
had been there before them. Their hearts
burned with rage; they drank vengeance
The noisy echoes fled far out in the for
est they leaped upon the craggy cliffs.
Mrs. Muntin lay silent upon the
sandy beach. She did not see the moon
that shone broad upon her, making still
whittier her pallid face; saw not the cruel
slaughter of her helpless little ones
heard not the tumult. She was dead!
Kameda was troubled, for she had
lost the battle. Vengeance burned, like
a flame, in her heart. She glided away,
unnoticed, with a living child in her |
arms: it was Marie Muntin. All the
rest had gone with their mother.
Kameda placed little Marie in one of
the boats, and padded swiftly down
the river. Under the shadow of over
hanging willows she watched by her
side spoke words of comfort.