Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1901-12-19

On one part a the fas.a stood th,
block-h0use. or stociaae. built q
huge logs driven into the ground
where the women and s9ildren used
70 take shelter while th1 men were
at work in the fields. I'D where al
used 70 congregate In tines OF attach
by the Indians.
But il had been log since the
block-house had been esed, and the
fear Of Indians had not disturbed the
settlers for many #onfhs. Ny
grandmother had little ar Of them
now. for she and her ashland had
shown tne intaans many .ls.zn<ssea,
and were ON the best Of terms with
all who came to them.
The day passed quickly and, as
twilight settled down. without her
husbands return, the busy wife
gave the children their supper Of
'hasty pudding" and milk, and af-
terwards sat serenely down 10 her
knitting. She felt no great anxiety
about her lord, as he had hidden her
not to worry, and she was ever an
obedient wife. But as the hours
wore on, and he came not, she look
ed often out Of the door towsrd the
woods, aud she placed the candle
where it would shine brightly into
the darkness outside.
As she sat in the fire light, her
knitting needles clicking nerrily.
she heard the pounding of alhorse's
hoofs rapidly nearing the house;
and with a glad leap in her heart
she opened the door. The horse
came to the door and stopped, but
what was her dismay to see that he
wasalone. Where was her husband? ?
She examined the horse; he was un-
hurt; the saddle bags were full of
the purchases made during the day.
What could have happened? Her
fear was more OF wild beasts than of
Indians, for the bear, the wolf, and
the loup-cervier were no strangers
to these woods. She called, she
lighted the candle in the tin
lantern punctrred with little Sits,
and went to the edge of the trees,
where she called and called till the
.woods rams. m.. .
But her husband answered not.
He was at that moment i'm sad straits.
He had started for home soon after
sunset, and, pursuing his way peace
fully along the river course, had
reached the boundaries of his own
woodland, when four dusky forms
sprang outof the surrounding gloom,
and, seizing his horse, dragged him
to the ground before he could strike
a blow in his own defense.
He was quickly stripped and tied
to a tree, though not without some
difficulty, for my sturdy ancestor
gave his captors such a tussle that
they had no leisure to attend to the
horse, and he escaped and went
home.
Left in this situation while the In
dians held a council, the captive,
in some way unknown to history,
freed himself from bis bonds and
made rush for the river. The In
dians took TO their canoes, from
which they had, just landed when
they heard their victim coming, and
with yells of rage searched the riv-
er for him. But he swan under
water, coming up at intervals to
breathe under the shadow OF the
bushes which lined the bank, and
so eluded his pursuers until he
reached a point opposite his own
house. Here he took to the land,
and, sheltered by the woods, reach
ed his home in safety.
He appeared before my grand
mother very much out of breath,
very thankful and very cold.
We may be sure that she lost no
time in attending to his pressing
needs, and then, behind their barri-
caded doors and windows, the two
passed the remainder OF the night
in keeping guard over their little
fortress, fearing lest the Indians
might vent their rage on the home.
They were not molested however,
and Christmas morning dawned, cold
and stormy. on a very thankful
household,
Grandfather was never to see his
beautiful new clothes again, but
that he was in possession Of whole
skin was blessing esough for him
onthatday. AS formy grandmother,
she ate her Christmas dinner with q
song of praise in her heart. such as
had never filed it before. The very
next day, she began the foundation
for another suit, which should be
warmer, more beautifully colored,
and more skillfully made than any
that had ever before adorned the
form of her beloved husband. .-Eu-