The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1883-04-04

CABINS; ana ne had taken IN aQQlblOn MS
younge,t child, about my age, and so
was walking beside his wife. At one
spot he stopped slightly to arrange his
load. when an Indian sunk a tomahawk
In his BRAIN As he fell to the ground
the same dripping blade cle't open the
skull of the yellow-tressed lit e child.
And as my mother (your great-grand-
mother), al o in the line of captiyes,
screamed at W tnessing such butchery,
the monster who did It turned and
hewed her down. Mrs. Brownlee saw
the bloody deed and the death-throes of
her husband and babe in silent horror,
and from that moment was never sane
again. She drifted along with the rest
OF the captives, especially cared for by
Mrs. Hanna, at length reached Canada.
and by British officers who pit ed her
condition was sent back to Westmore-
land: dozen years later she was yet
silent. with hands always clasped and
eyes fl ed on the ground.
..But my own share in that fearful
event remains to be told.
my mother was at the mansion, and.
as said before, was taken prisoner and
slain. Nv father had also been there
most of the afternoon, but as my grand
mother remained in our cabin in charge
o. me. baby, he had stepped home Tor
| q few minutes to look ter our welfare
1t was at this moment that the war
whoop sounded and the attack began
A glance told my father that nothing he
could do would avail to save my mother
or rescue anv but grandmother and me.
If even this cou d be done. But as our
cabin was at the farther side OF the
hamlet, at the very foot of Georges
Hill. he decided to try and escape into
the thick woods little distance up the
slope. Catching me in his arms and
taking his mother by the hand he hur
ried us toward the forest. Hardly had
we started when the rowing eyes of sew
eral savages spied us and pursuit was
instantly made. Grandmother was old
and feeble, and the fright and haste al
most overcame her so that she could
hardly walk. My father. see ng tn g
and noting how fast the Indians
were gaining on us, balanced in
his mind which to give up and
which to try and save, his mother or
b child. And this q ;estion was settled
when he reached the edge o, the woods;
for at that Joint he dropped me upon
the ground, and, devot ng all b s
strength to his mother, escaped the saw
ages and rea. he'd Georges Farm, a lew
miles distant What would become of
me he CO Id not imagine, though he
said that until darkness shut down, and
he came back to search Tor wife and
aby. he had constantly before his eyes
a vision of my scalp of glossy ringlets
IN red man bloody hands. When
night came he stole to the clearing to
examine the state of airs. As he
crept out from among the trees and
stened and gazed all was still, but not
ali dark. Below him at Sc eral points
were glow ng beds of Goals. and the
smoky air told him that the hamlet was
not only bereft of its people but burned
1 to the earth. Warily crawling down
the hill he came first to the smoldering
remains or the Couria cabin, next were
the embers of the Dunlaps' little house,
and next to this stood our own. But
as he approached. what was his amaze
ment to discern, instead of a bed of
ashes, the outlines of the cabin dimly
seen in the darkness. A fire had been
built against its walls, but owing to the
green state of the logs it did not burn.
'.As he stood before the open door
thinking how much of love and happi-
ness had been suddenly snatched from
| beneath its ROOT, q sweet, sad longing
possessed him to enter. He did so. and
by some instinct of his mind, or in 'tu-
ence of higher powe groped his way
to the bed, where at that hour. but for
the awful saster, his wi e and babe
would have been peace ully sleeping.
Putting out his hands with almost a wall
for his lost ones, what was his astonish-
ment to feel human iorm on the cot
With a shudder of mystery. hope and
fear, he elt along--it was a Ii ing form.
for it moved--it was chlld's form
and lifting it to his breast, his heart
told him It was /. his baby girl. alive.
And as he clasped me in his arms. the
vents of the past six hours seemed like
u horr.d nightmare. But too sadly did
he learn the reality of things before
another day passed Knowing the
remain longer in the cabin lest some
/ arty o. them. prowling to catch such
returning settlers as he, might come
up him: so he carried me to the
woods and waite for morning.
"How such mere infant as escaped
and found my way back to the cabin
was never known.
''As the dawn came, my father peered
into the valley for signs of friend or
foe, but none appeared: the little set
tlement was deserted ruin.
AT broad daylight we crept from
our hid ng- place and caut ously wan
dered among the rema ms of the houses.
At one point we found where the saw
ages had taken their departure. an
from some unaccountable inclination
NV father fol owed the trail 1t led
= partly in the d re tion of Hanna $
Town, along q stream called the crab
tree Hard y a mile had we gone when
we came upon the CORY forms OF Mr..
Brownlee and the child: and few feet
far-thar- arorar Tho w ID crah tr,oos Low
sight more awful still: nv own moth
er, dead and cold, lay stretched on the
bloody ground. With uncomfortable
sadness my 1ather put me down from
his arms, when instantl l ran to the
lifeless form and began calling in a ba-
by's way, ammyl " ANN p But
never again wo Id the dear mother and
wife answer to the voice of love.
"This was the sorrow of jeremiah
! Lochrey. and this was his motive
through many years when h name and
deeds were such power along the
frontier and such terror. to the saw
ages. You have often heard. g rls, that
your great-grandfather was a great In
d an fighter. but he was led to such a
life by his sorrow; not because he de-
lighted in bloodshed, but he saw
through h s. grief how he might save
Others from the cruelties of the red men.
"As / grew to womanhood my
father fame gave me Importance, and
I i was known ar and wile as Lochre s
clung to me, and of which 1 confess
was never ashamed '-Iruing L. Be
man, in Christian Union.
\ What Allied Him.