News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-09-11
A SHROUD OF FIRE.

A SHR0UD OF FIRE.
1t was golden harvest day, late in
September, and the men of the frontier
settlement of Warren, hidden away in
the heart of vast Kentucky forest,
were at work on their respective clear
mgs, cutting and binding the ripe
golden wheat, when, like huge thun-
der-cioud, overspreading the sky at mid
noon, large party of savages made
descent upon the settlement; and, in
less than half an hour from the time ter
ror had been struck deep into their
hearts by the first terrible warwhoop,
every one in that little community had
been murdered in cold blood, save a
youth of nineteen, Harry Philips by
name, who, upon the first alarm, had
hidden in the tall wheat, and thus far
escaped the fell eyes of the enemy.
So near was his hiding place to the
-abins, that he had heard every shrek
made by the women and children as
they were butchered by the red iends;
and more than once he was on the point
of rushing out to their defense, all un-
armed as he was. But the love of life
is implanted so deep in every heart, and
the certainty that he could render them
no aid, held him back and with his
hands to his ears to shut out the horrid
sounds, he lay, expecting every moment
that he would be discovered and sub
lected to the terrible fate which was be-
ing meted out to his friends.
At last it seemed that the fell work of
the savages was done.
The groans and shrieks had died
away, and no sound met his ear save the
rustling of the tall wheat above him, as
it waved back and forward in the gentle
breeze.
For several moments the silence con-
linued, and he had begun to congratu-
late himself that they had departed,
when the loud cracking of flames an
nounced that one or more of the cabins
had been set on fire.
There had been no rain for several
days, and the timber that formed the
roof of the cabins was dry and in the best
condition for the fames,to prey upon.
The cracking of the flames grew
louder and louder, and he was soon en-
abled to see that the roof of the cabin near
est him was one sheet ol-aame; and, as it |
was not more than half a dozen rods |
from where he was concealed, he already
could feel the heat where he lay.
If the wheat should ignite his danger,
he knew, would be doubly increased;
for danger from the flames would be
added to the knives of the savages and
to escape from one would only be to
drive him upon the other, which would
be certain death.
The flames licked up the dry walls of
the cabin, and with every moment the
heat increased. To move he dare not,
| for fear the savages would see the agi-
tation of the wheat which would result
from his motions. There seemed no al
ternative but to remain where he was, at
least SO long as it was possible for him
to do so, rather than run the risk OF
moving.
But it was fated that he should not
remain undisturbed.
The savages had only begun their
work of devastation by fire. They had
divided, several being allotted to the
burning of each cabin, and when this
had been accomplished. they turned
their attention to the ripe fields of wheat
that, during the summer, had been the
pride and hope of the settlers, but now,
like them, doomed to destruction.
Torches were applied in a dozen
places to each field, and the ripened
stalk of the grain, and the long spell of
dry weather that had preceded this ter
rible day, made it an easy prey to the
devouring clement; and. almost imme-
diately upon the application of the
torches the black smoke and cinders
filed the air like cloud.
Harry was unaware of his danger, un-
til he saw the huge volume of smoke
soaring over him, and even then he did
not know but that it might proceed
from the burning cabins.
He did not dare raise his head to see,
but his suspicious soon became GER
tainty; for, as he lay, with his face tC
the ground, he saw the red flames rush
ng toward him, through the yellow
stalks of the ripened grain. Two deaths
stared him in the face-one from the
hands of the savages. dripping with the
blood of their victims; and the other
| from the no less merciless flames.
He might escape from the savages
under the cover of the smoke, but if he
lay where he was minute longer the
forked tongues of the flames would be
eating into his flesh. He took the
chance that gave hope of life, and
sprang to his feet
One fearful glance he gave about him,
bounded on every side by smoke and
flames, and then bounded away to the
edge of the forest, about thirty yards
distant.
w 1JA nh t41C oO AA40
the youth sprang toward the line of
forest trees which promised him shelter
and refuge; but despite his efforts he
made but little headway, for the wheat
was stout and thick, and impeded his
progress sadly. Yet every nerve was
brought to the task, for he knew that
ife. or death depended upon his efforts
He had gone over perhaps one-third
of the distance, and had gained some
what on the flames that were following
madly in his rear, and thus far the
dense smoke had proved shield that
the eyes of the savages could not pene-
trate: but now the horror of the youth
can be imagined, when he saw bright
line of flames spring up on the outer
edge of the field, toward which he was
flying, and heard the shouts of the rec
devils, who had set this new trap into
which he was running, and who nov