Connecticut western news., 1884-08-20
A STROUD OF FIRE.


 It 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 ings, cutting and binding the ripe golden wheat, when, like huge thun- der-cloud, overspreading the sky at mid noon, large party of savages made a descent upon the settlement; and, in less than half an hour from the time ter TOT 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 cabins, that he had heard every shriek made by the women and children as they were butchered by the red fiends;
 
 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- jected 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 9roans 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- tinued, 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 flames 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 of flame; and, as it was not more than half 8 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- formative but to remain where he was. at leasteso long as it vas 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 oi 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 filled 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 Q cer tainty; for, as he lay, with his face tC the ground, he saw the red flames rush ing 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 savage: under the cover of the smoke, but if h, lay where he was a minute longer tn, forked tongues of the flames would b : eating into his flesh. He took tn chance that gave hope of life, an, sprang to his feet.
 One fearful glance he gave about him bounded on every side by smoke an flames. and then bounded away to tn edge of the forest, about thirty yard distant
 WithFall the strength at his comman the youth sprang toward the line ( forest trees which promised him shelte and refuge; but despite his efforts | made but little headway, for the-swhes was stout." and thick, and impeded hi progress sadly. Yet every nerve WI brought to the task, for he knew tn fife. or death depended upon his efor