The Portland daily press., 1894-02-10
WHITE MANS WINGS.

mac a6 WHab Is now NOnCOru, IN. IL. IHc
new country was fertile, and on a broad
plain in bend of the great river pros
porous little hamlet was growing.
The home of the Whitakers was one OF
the 10 garrison houses of Penacook. Dur
ing colonial times houses in a new settle
ment were built so as to be easily defended
in case of an attack from savages. Strong
walls of hewn timber, carried up as high
as the roofs, were erected around each
house, and at the corners were sentry box
es where some one Of the family watched
when an Indian raid was Appreciated.
Sometimes number of dwellings were IL
closed in such fertilization.
Laban was the youngest of a family of
nine One of his elder brothers was grown
up and married, but the young couple
made their home with his father. In so
large a household it usually devolves RI
one of the younger members to do the
chores This part of the labor fell gener
ally upon Laban.
But he was stout, sturdy boy, quite
willing to perform the duties that fell to
him. These were to go to the mill when
ever the family supply of frye and In
dian" was exhausted, to cut and carry in
the firewood, and in summer tims to weed
the garden and to herd the cows.
There were no fenced Enclosures for pas
turage purposes in early Penacook. The
cows of the settles ran at large in the
woods and meadows, and the boys took
turns in guarding them through the day
and driving them up at night. AS two
boys watched at time and as there were
about dozen lads in the settlement, it
consequently became Laban's turn once a
week to be out with the cows.
1t was not hard work, and when it was
not stormy weather Labar rather liked it.
The danger attending it was just suffici .ns
to give certain zest to the employment,
for it was in the time of the French and
Indian war Two or three years before
this a band of Indians had lain in ambush
In the forest and shot down seven of the
settlers as they were passing from the town
to garrison few miles distant Since
then, although other settlements had felt
the scourge, Penacook had not been mo-
Tested. Still the settlers were not urcon-
scious of the danger that any day might
sweep down upon them.
Sentries stood on guard day and night.
Every pioneer carried his musl1et to his
work in the fields, and on Sunday tbs coz
gregation went armed to man to the lit
tie log meeting hou-e Even the minister
kept his firelock by hi; side in the pulpit
as he read from the word OF God. Such
was life on the New England frontier $50
years ago.
One bright June day Laban and another
boy named Ezra Kimball went out togeth-
er to watch the cows. Both boys had their
AirfIooIy Of md NTH hon
Rover, large brindled mastiH that be-
longed to the Kimball lad.
The cows had fed farther than was usu-
al that day, and when the long afternoon
drew to a close the boys were a mile from
home. They had no thought of danger,
however, as they drove their lowing charge
through the bosky glades and along the
forest paths toward the little settlement
The soft, balmy air was full of charm.
The smoke rising from the chimneys of
the cabins down in the valley, where the
settlers wives were cooking their late sup
per, gave a pleasant touch to the land
scape.
A great hush had suddenly como over
the forest. Not birds note was to be
heard. The stiffness, like thai of Sab
bath, struck the boy attention, and they
looked at each other with sudden fear
blanchIs.5 their tanned faces Rover's
sharp hark il front treasured them, how
ever, and they hurried ON through the
twilight
Before them was little dell, through
viii h a brook nleandered with low, mu-
steal gurgles. Alders lined the valley, and
the trunk of a fallen tree of huge dimen-
sions isf beside the narrow path.
Indians Ind ans!' rose from the white
lips of Ezra KImball as he sprang back
ward. He had caught the glimpse of red
legs behind the alder bushes.
Instantly a dozen savages rose up from
their hiding place behind thu fallen tree
trunk ard the copse of alders. Before La
ban could spring out of the way or in any
way shrink from the encounter he was
seized.
A stalwart brave leaped after Ezra, who
had taken to his heels through the brush
wood. The pioneer boy heard his red foe
just behind him. How should he escape
bis clutches? He had but moment to
think, but it was long enough to save him.
He allowed himself to fall suddenly an
inert body across the wild wood path. 1t
was done so quickly that the Indian could
not turn or evade the stumbling block in
his way. He pitched headlong over it and
fell PROSTATE upon the earth. With sharp,
fierce yelp Rover rushed upon the fallen
savage, throttling and tearing him il
terrible manner.
In the excitement Ezra sprang to his
feet and dashed off.
~ Run to tie fort and arouse the set
-lers!' shouted Laban after him.
But Ezra did not need the incentive A |
lew shots were fred after him, but he es-
,apea without Il scratch to alarm the set |
,iemeut.
Not SO fortunate was Laban. He was /
led away through the wilderness. His |
,aptors Travelled all that night, never halt
ng ill they were miles from the little set
.ieinent on the Merrimac.
The band of warriors had been detached |
from a larger war party, and in the morn
ng the two bands united, halted where
,wo streams met and cooked hasty break |
last. They then continued their march, |
arriving st the end of week g time at an
indian village on the northern extremity
If Lake Champlain.
There, after a time, the young captive
ras formally adopted into the Indian
,,ibe, an old chief taking him into his own
yigwan as a son.
Those were dark days for Laban Whita-