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NICK OF THE WOODS, 
 
 OR 
 
 THE JIBBENAINOSAY. 
 
 TALE OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF " CALAVAR," "THE INFIDEL," &C. 
 
 Unenligliten'd man,— 
 A savage, roaming through the woods and wilds, 
 In quest of prey, and with th' unfashion'd fur 
 Rough dad- 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 CAREY, LEA & BLANCHARD. 
 
 1837. 
 
 127226 
 
Entered according- to the act of Congress, in the year 1837, 
 by Caret, Lea & BLAKCiiARi),in the Clerk's Office of the Dis- 
 trict Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
Treasiue Room 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A PECULIARLY romaiitic interest has ever been 
 attached to the name and history of Kentucky, — 
 the first region of the great uhramontane Wil- 
 derness penetrated by the Saggenah, or EngUsh- 
 man, — the first torn from its aboriginal possessors, 
 and converted from a desert hunting-ground into 
 the home of civilized men. Tiie ramblings of the 
 solitary Boone, in whose woodland adventures we 
 recognise the influence of the wild passion, as 
 common on the American frontier as in the poet's 
 closet, — 
 
 To roam for food, and be a naked man, 
 And wander up and down at liberty, — 
 
 and the fierce strife of those who followed in his 
 paths, with the lords of the forest, are chapters 
 in its annals, which, if they be not themselves 
 poetry, are productive of all its effects on the 
 minds of the dreamy and imaginative. 
 
 But apart from the charm the history of Ken- 
 tucky possesses for the romantic, it has an inte- 
 rest scarcely inferior for the grave and reflecting. 
 This is derived from a consideration of the cha- 
 racter of the men by whom — in the midst of dif- 
 
 127226 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 in our relation, are recollections still cherished in 
 some parts of Kentucky, and made the theme of 
 many a gleesomc story. 
 
 The story of Wandering Nathan has a similar 
 foundation in truth: but its origin belongs to one 
 of the Western counties of Pennsylvania. 
 
 We o^ve, perhaps, some apology for the hues 
 we have thrown around the Indian portraits in 
 our picture, — hues darker than are usually em- 
 ployed by the painters of such figures. But, we 
 confess, the North American savage has never 
 appeared to us the gallant and heroic })crsonage 
 he seems to others. The sin^jle fact that he wages 
 war — systematic war — upon beings incapable of 
 resistance or defence, — upon women and chil- 
 dren, whom all other races in the world, no mat- 
 ter how barbarous, consent to spare, — has hith- 
 erto been, and we suppose, to the end of our days 
 will remain, a stumbling-block to our imagina- 
 tion: we look into the woods for the mightv 
 warrior, Uhe feather-cinctured chief,' rushing to 
 meet his foe, and behold him retiring, laden with 
 the scalps of miserable squaws and their babes. — 
 Heroical ? Hoc verhum quid valeat, non vident. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The world was ail before them, where to choose 
 Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: 
 They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow. 
 Through Eden took their solitary way. 
 
 Paradise LosL 
 
 If we can believe the immortal poet, from 
 whom we have taken the above lines, to serve as 
 our letter of introduction to the gentle reader, the 
 grief of our first parents for the loss of Paradise 
 was not so deep and ovei^whelming but that they 
 almost immediately found comfort, when they re- 
 flected they had exchanged it for the land of 
 Eden, — itself a paradise, though an earthly and 
 unsanctified one: 
 
 Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon^ 
 
 The exiles of America, who first forsook their 
 homes on the borders of the Atlantic, to build 
 their hearths among the deserts of the West, had 
 a similar consolation ; they were bending their 
 steps towards a land, to which rumour at first, and 
 afterwards the reports of a thousand adventurous 
 visitants, had affixed the character of a second 
 elysium. The Dorado of the Spaniards, with its 
 cities built of gold, 'its highways paved with dia- 
 monds and rubies, was not more captivating to 
 the brains of Sir Waher Raleigh and his fellow 
 freebooters of the 16th century, than was the 
 Kentucky of the red men, with its fertile fields, 
 
 VOL. I. — 2 
 
14 NICK or THE WOODS. 
 
 and ever-blooming forests, to the imaginations of 
 their descendants, two hundred years after. It 
 was not unnatural, indeed, that men should re- 
 gard as an Eden the land in which the gallant 
 Daniel Boone, while taking his "pleasing ram- 
 ble" on the 22d of December, 17()0, discovered 
 " myriads of trees, some gay with lilossoms, others 
 rich with fruits;" which blossoms and fruits, as he 
 tells us, were "beautifully coloured, elegantly 
 shaped, and charmingly flavoured."* 
 
 It might be difficult, in these degenerate days, 
 to find fruits and flow^ers adorning any forest in 
 Kentucky, at Christmas; yet there was enough, 
 and more than enough, in the wild beauty and 
 unexampled fertility of the country, to excuse the 
 rapture of the hunter and to w^arrant high ex- 
 pectations on the part of the eastern emigrants, 
 to w'hom he had opened a path through the wil- 
 derness, which they were not slow to follow. A 
 strong proof of the real attractions of the land 
 was to be seen in the crowds rushing towards it, 
 year after year, regardless of all adverse circum- 
 stances. Suflfering and privation of all kinds 
 were to be endured on the long and savage road, 
 in which mountain, river, bog, and forest were to 
 be passed, and often, too, in the teeth of a lurking 
 foe ; while peril of every imaginable aspect was 
 still to be encountered, when the journey was at 
 an end. The rich fields, — the hunting-grounds of 
 a dozen tribes of Indians, — to be possessed, were 
 first to be won, and won from an enemy at once 
 brave and cruel, resolute and wily, who had shown 
 no disposition to yield them except with life, and 
 
 * See the worthy pioneer's " Adventures," purporting- to 
 be written by hinnself, though undoubtedly furbished up by 
 some flowery friend. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 15 
 
 who had already stained them with the best blood 
 of the settler. Such evils were well known to 
 exist ; but they imposed little check on the ardour 
 of adventurers: the tide of emigration, at first a 
 little rivulet, lost among forests, increased to a 
 river, the river grew into a flood, overflowing the 
 whole land; and, in 1792, sixteen years after the 
 first block-house was built in the woods, the ' wil- 
 derness^ of Kentucky was admitted into the Fede- 
 ral Union, a free and sovereign State, with a 
 population of seventy-five thousand souls. 
 
 Ten years before that happy event — for it is 
 to this early period we must ask the attention of 
 the reader, — the Shawanee and the Wyandot still 
 hunted the bear and buffalo in the cane-brake, and 
 waylaid the settler at the gates of his solitary 
 stronghold. The * District of Kentucky,' then 
 within the territorial jurisdiction of Virginia, com- 
 prised but three inhabited counties, Fayette, Jef- 
 ferson, and Lincoln ; of which, to play the geo- 
 grapher briefly, it needs only to say, that the first 
 occupied all the country north and east of the 
 Kentucky river ; the second all the region west 
 of that river as far as Green river, which, with 
 the redoubtable Salt, the river of Roarers, formed 
 also its southern bounds ; while the third extended 
 over all the territory lying south of the two others, 
 and was therefore the first reached by emigrants 
 coming from Virginia and the Carolinas through 
 the Gap of the Cumberlands. In these counties, 
 the settlements were already somewhat numerous, 
 although confined, for the most part, to the neigh- 
 bourhood of the stations, or forts, which were the 
 only effectual places of refuge for the husbandman 
 and his family, when the enemy was abroad in the 
 land. These stations were mere assemblages of 
 huts, sometimes, in number, approaching to vil- 
 
16 KICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 lages, surroujidcd, or at least connected, hut to 
 hut, by ranges of strong palisades, easily defend- 
 ed against assailants armed only v ith knives and 
 rifles. Founded, in the first place, by some bold 
 and resolute pioneer, each station, as the land 
 filled with settlers, was enlarged to receive other 
 inhabitants, who were glad to unite with the foun- 
 der in defending from attack a place so necessary 
 to their own safety, and easily conceded him a 
 kind of military authority over them, which was 
 usually confirmed by a commission from the State, 
 on the division of the District into counties, and 
 exercised with due military spirit, on all proper 
 occasions. 
 
 The sun of an August afternoon, 1782, was yet 
 blazing upon the rude palisades and equally rude 
 cabins of one of the principal stations in Lincoln 
 county, when a long train of emigrants, issuing 
 from the southern forest, wound its u ay over the 
 clearings, and among the waving maize-fields 
 that surrounded iht: seiUemenT, and approached the 
 chief gate of its enclosure. 
 
 The party was numerous, consisting perhaps of 
 seven or eight score individuals in all, men, wo- 
 men, and children, the last bearing that propor- 
 tion to the others in point of numbers usually 
 found in a borderer's family, and thus, with the 
 help of pack-horses, cattle, and a few negroes, the 
 property of the more wealthy emigrants, scattered 
 here and there throughout the assemblage, giving 
 to the whole train the appearance of an army, or 
 moving village, of Vandals in quest of some new 
 home to be won with the edge of the sword. Of 
 the whole number there were at least fifty well 
 armed ; some of these, however, being striplings 
 of fourteen, and, in one or two instances, even of 
 twelve, who balanced the big rifle on their shoul- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 17 
 
 ders, or sustained it over their saddle-bows, with 
 all the gravity and dignity of grown warriors; 
 while some few of the negroes were provided with 
 the same formidable weapons. In fact, the dan- 
 gers of the journey through the wilderness re- 
 quired that every individual of a party should be 
 well armed, who was at all capable of bearing 
 arms ; and this was a kind of capacity which ne- 
 cessity instilled into the American frontiersman 
 in the earliest infancy. 
 
 Of this armed force, such as it was, the two 
 principal divisions, all well mounted, or at least 
 provided with horses, which they rode or not as 
 the humour seized them, were distributed in mili- 
 tary order on the front and in the rear; while 
 scouts leading in the van, and flanking-parties 
 beating the woods on either side, where the nature 
 of the country permitted, indicated still further 
 the presence of a martial spirit on the part of the 
 leaders. The women and children, stowed care- 
 fully away for the most part with other valuable 
 chattels, on the backs of pack-horses, were min- 
 gled with droves of cattle in the centre, many of 
 which were made to bear burthens as well as the 
 horses. Of wheeled carriages there was not a 
 single one in the whole train, the difficulties of the 
 road, which was a mere bridle-path, being such 
 that they were never, at that early day, attempt- 
 ed to be brought into the country, unless when 
 wafted in boats down the Ohio. 
 
 Thus marshalled, and stealing from the depth of 
 the forest into the clearings around the Station, 
 there was something in the appearance of the train 
 wild, singular, and striking. The tall and robust 
 frames of the men, wrapped in blanket-coats 
 and hunting-frocks, — some of which, where the 
 wearers were voung and of gallant tempers, 
 2* 
 
18 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 were profusely decked with fringes of yellow, 
 green, and scarlet ; the gleam of their w capons ; 
 and the tramp of their horses; gave a warlike air 
 to the whole, typical, it might be supposed, of the 
 sanguinary struggle by which alone the desert 
 was to be won from the wandering barbarian ; 
 while the appearance of their families, with their 
 domestic beasts and the implements of husbandry, 
 was in harmony with what might be supposed the 
 future destinies of the land, when peaceful labour 
 should succeed to the strife of conquest. 
 
 The exiles were already in the heart of their 
 land of promise, and many within view of the 
 haven where they were to end their wanderings. 
 Smiles of pleasure lighted their way-worn coun- 
 tenances, as they beheld the waving fields of 
 maize and the gleam of the distant cabins; and 
 their satisfaction was still further increased, when 
 the people of the »Station, catching sight of them, 
 rushed out, some mounted and others on foot, to 
 meet tliem, uttering loud shouts of welcome, such 
 as, in that day, greeted every band of new-comers; 
 and adding to the clamour of the reception ^ feu- 
 de-joie, which they fired in lK)noiir of the numbers 
 and martial appearance of the present company. 
 The salutation was requited, and the stirring hur- 
 rahs returned, by the travellers, most of whom 
 pressed forward to the van in disorder, eager to 
 take part in the merry-making ere it was over, or 
 perhaps to seek for friends who liad })receded 
 them in the journey through the wilderness. Such 
 friends were, in many instances found, and their 
 loud and afiectionate greetings were mingled with 
 the scarce less cordial welcomes extended by the 
 colonists even to the unknown stranger. Such was 
 the reception of the emigrants at that period and 
 in that country, where men were united together 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 19 
 
 by a sense of common danger ; and where every 
 armed visiter, besides being an accession to the 
 strength of the colonists, brought with him such 
 news of absent friends and still remembered homes 
 as was sure to recommend him to favour. 
 
 The only individual who, on this occasion of re- 
 joicing, preserved a melancholy countenance, and 
 who, instead of riding forward, like the others, to 
 shake hands with the people of the Station, be- 
 trayed an inclination to avoid their greetings alto- 
 gether, was a young man, who, from the position 
 he occupied in the band, and from other causes, 
 was entitled to superior attention. With the rank 
 and nominal title of Second Captain, — a dignity 
 conferred upon him by his companions, he was, 
 in reality, the commander of the party, the ostensi- 
 ble leader being, although a man of good repute 
 on the Virginia border, entirely wanting in the 
 military reputation and skill which the other had 
 acquired in the armies of the Republics, and of 
 which the value was fully appreciated, when dan- 
 ger first seemed to threaten the exiles on their 
 march. He was a youth of scarce twenty-three 
 years of age; but five of those years had been 
 passed in camps and battles; and the labours, pas- 
 sions, and privations of his profession had ante- 
 dated the period of manhood. A frame tall and 
 athletic, a countenance which, although retaining 
 the smoothness and freshness of youth, was yet 
 marked with the manly gravity and decision of 
 mature life, added, in appearance, at least six 
 years to his age. He wore a hunting-frock of the 
 plainest green colour, with cap and leggings of lea- 
 ther, such as were worn by many of the poorest 
 or least pretending exiles ; like whom also he bore 
 a rifle on his shoulder, with the horn and other 
 equipments of a hunter. There was little, there- 
 
20 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 fore, to distinguish him, at the first view, from 
 among his companions; altliough his erect mih- 
 tary bearing, and the fine blooded bay horse 
 which he rode, would have won him more than a 
 passing look. The holsters at his saddle-bow, and 
 the sabre at his side, were weapons not indeed 
 very generally worn by frontiersmen, but still 
 common enough to prevent their being regarded 
 as badges of rank. 
 
 With this youthful officer, the rear-guard, which 
 he commanded, having deserted him, to press for- 
 ward to the van, there remained only three per- 
 sons, two of whom were negro slaves, both mount- 
 ed and armed, that followed at a little distance be- 
 hind, leading thrice their number of pack-horses. 
 The third was a female, who rode closely at his 
 side, the rein of her pony being, in fact, grasped 
 in his hand ; though he looked as if scarce con- 
 scious that he held it, — a degree of insensibility 
 that would have spoken little in his favour to an 
 observer; for his companion was both young and 
 beautiful, and watched his moody countenance on 
 her part with looks of the most anxious and affec- 
 tionate interest. Her riding-habit, chosen, like his 
 own garments, with more regard to usefulness than 
 beauty, and perhaps somewhat the worse for its 
 encounters with the wind and forest, could not 
 conceal the graceful figure it defended ; nor had 
 the sunbeam, though it had darkened the briorht 
 complexion exposed to its summer fury, during a 
 journey of more than six weeks, robbed her fair 
 visage of a single charm. There was, in the ge- 
 neral cast of features, a sufficient resemblance be- 
 tween the two to indicate near relationship ; al- 
 though it was plain that the gloom seated upon 
 the brow of her kinsman, as if a permanent cha- 
 racteristic, was an unwelcome and unnatural 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 21 
 
 visitant on her own. The clear blue eye, the 
 golden locks floating over her temples, the ruddy 
 cheek and lip of seventeen, and, generally, the 
 frank and open character of her expression, be- 
 tokened a spirit too joyous and elastic to indulge 
 in those dark anticipations of the future or mourn- 
 ful recollections of the past, which clouded the 
 bosom of her relative. And well for her that such 
 was the cheerful temper of her mind ; for it was 
 manifest, from her whole appearance, that her lot, 
 as originally cast, must have been among the gen- 
 tle, the refined, and the luxurious, and that she 
 was now, for the first time, exposed to discomfort, 
 hardship, and suffering, among companions, who, 
 however kind and courteous of conduct, were un- 
 polished in their habits, conversation, and feelings, 
 and, in every other respect, unfitted to be her 
 associates. 
 
 She looked upon the face of her kinsman, and 
 seeing that it grew tho darker and gloomier the 
 nearer they approached the scene of rejoicing, she 
 laid her hand upon his arm, and murmured softly 
 and afl^ectionately, — 
 
 " Roland, — cousin, — brother ! — what is it that 
 disturbs you ? Will you not ride forward, and sa- 
 lute the good people that are making us welcome?" 
 
 " Us !" muttered the young man, with a bitter 
 voice ; " who is there on earth, Edith, to welcome 
 us ? Where shall we look for the friends and kins- 
 folk, that the meanest of the company are now 
 finding among yonder noisy barbarians ?" 
 
 " You do them injustice, Roland," said the 
 maiden. " Yesternight we had experience at the 
 Station we left, that these wild people of the 
 woods do not confine their welcomes to kinsmen. 
 Kinder and more hospitable people do not exist in 
 the world," 
 
22 MCK or THE WOODS. 
 
 " It is not that, Edith," said the young man ; 
 " I were but a brute to doubt their hospitaHty. 
 But look, Edith ; we are in Kentucky, ahnost at 
 our place of refuge. Yonder hovels, lowly, mean, 
 and wretched, — are they tlie mansions that should 
 sheher the child of my father's brother? Yonder 
 people, the outcasts of our borders, the poor, the 
 rude, the savage, — but one degree elevated above 
 the Indians, with whom they contend, — are they 
 the society from whom Edith Forrester should 
 choose her friends ?" 
 
 '' They are," said Edith, firmly ; " and Edith 
 Forrester asks none better. In such a cabin as 
 these, and, if need be, in one still more humble, 
 she is content to pass her life, and dream that she 
 is still in the house of her fathers. From such 
 people, too, she will choose her friends, knowing 
 that, even among the humblest of them, there are 
 many worthy of her regard and aflection. What 
 have we to mourn in the world wft have left be- 
 hind us ? We are the last of our name and race ; 
 fortune has left us nothing to regret. My only re- 
 lation on earth, saving yourself, Roland, — saving 
 yourself, my cousin, my brother," — her lip quiver- 
 ed, and, for a moment, her eyes were filled with 
 tears, — "my only other living relation resides in 
 this wilderness-land ; and she, tenderly nurtured 
 as myself, finds in it enough to engage her tlioughts 
 and secure her happiness. Why, then, should not I? 
 Why should not you? Trust me, dear Roland, I 
 should myself be as happy as the day is long, could 
 I only know that you did not grieve for me." 
 
 " I cannot but choose it," said Roland. " It is 
 to me you owe the loss of fortune and your present 
 banishment from the world." 
 
 " Say not so, Roland, for it is not true; No! I 
 never can believe that our poor uncle would have 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 23 
 
 carried his resentment, for such a cause, so far. 
 But supposing that he could, and granting that all 
 were as you say, I am prouder to be the poor 
 cousin of Roland Forrester, who has bled in the 
 battles of his country, than if I were the rich and 
 courted kinswoman of one who had betrayed the 
 memory of his father." 
 
 " You are, at least, an angel ;" said the youth ; 
 " and I am but a villain to say or do any thing to 
 give you pain. Farev/ell then to Fell-hallow, to 
 old James River, and all! If you can forget these 
 things, Edith, so will I; at all events, I will try." 
 
 "Now," said Edith, "you talk like my true 
 cousin." 
 
 "Well, Edith, the world is before us; and shame 
 be upon me, if I, who have health, strength, and 
 youth to back my ambition, cannot provide you a 
 refuge and a home. I will leave you for a while 
 in the hands of this good aunt at the Falls; and 
 then, with old Emperor there for my adjutant, and 
 Sam for my rank and file, I will plunge into the 
 forest, and scatter it as I have seen a band of to- 
 nes scattered by my old major, (who, by the by, 
 is only three years older than myself,) Henry Lee, 
 not many years back. Then, when I have built 
 me a house, furrowed my acres with my martial 
 plough-share, (for to that, it appears, my sword 
 must come,) and reaped my harvest with my own 
 hands, (it will be hard w^ork to beat my horse- 
 pistols into a sickle,) then, Edith " 
 
 " Then, Roland," said the maiden, with a smile 
 and a tear, " if you should still remember your poor 
 cousin, it will not be hard to persuade her to follow 
 you to your retreat, to share your fortunes of 
 good and of evil, and to love you better in your 
 adversity than she ever expected to love you in 
 your prosperity." 
 
24 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 "Spoken like my true Edith I" said the young 
 officer, whose melancholy fled before her soft ac- 
 cents, as the evil spirit of Saul before the tinklings 
 of the Jewish harp, — "spoken like my true Edith; 
 for whom I promise, if fate smile upon my exer- 
 tions, to rear a new Fell-hallow- on the banks of 
 the Ohio, in which I will be, myself, the first to 
 forget that on James River. — And now, Edith, 
 let us ride forward and meet yon gay looking 
 giant, w^hom, from his bustling demeanour, and 
 fresh jerkin, I judge to be the commander of the 
 Station, the redoubtable Colonel Bruce himself" 
 
 As he spoke, the individual thus alluded to, se- 
 parating himself from the throng, gallo|)ed up to 
 the speaker, and displayed a person which excited 
 the envy even of the manly-looking Forrester. 
 He was a man of at least fifty years, but as hale 
 as one of thirty, without a single gray hair to de- 
 form the beauty of his raven locks, which fell 
 down in masses nearly to his shoulders. His sta- 
 ture was colossal, and the proportions of his frame 
 as just as they were gigantic; so that there was 
 much in his appearance of real native majesty. 
 Nothing, in fact, could be well imagined more 
 truly striking and grand than his appearance, as 
 seen at the first glance; though the second revealed 
 a lounging indifference of carriage, amounting, at 
 times, to something like awkvv^ardness and un- 
 couthness, which a little detracted from the ef- 
 fect. Such men were oft-times, in those days, 
 sent from among the mountain counties of Vir- 
 ginia, to amaze the lesser mortals of the plains, 
 who regarded them as the genii of the forest, and 
 almost looked, as was said of the victor of the 
 Kenhawa,* himself of the race, to see the earth 
 
 * Gen. Andrew Lewis. 
 
TfiCK OF THE WOODS. *^5 
 
 tremble beneath their footsteps. With a spirit 
 corresponding to his frame, he would have been 
 the Nimrod, or Meleager, that he seemed. But 
 nature had long before extinguished the race of 
 demigods ; and the worthy Commander of the Sta- 
 tion was not of them. He was a mortal man, 
 distinguished by little, save his exterior, from other 
 mortal men, and from the crowd of settlers who 
 had followed him from the fortress. He w^ore, it 
 is true, a new and janty hunting-shirt of dressed 
 deer-skin, as yellow as gold, and fringed and fur- 
 belowed witii shreds of the same substance, dyed as 
 red as blood-root could make them; but was 
 otherwise, to the view, a plain yeoman, endowed 
 with those gifts of mind only which were neces- 
 sary to his station, but with the virtues which are 
 alike common to forest and city. Courage and 
 hospitality, however, were then hardly accounted 
 virtues, being too universal to be distinguished as 
 such ; and courtesy was equally native to the in- 
 dependent borderer. 
 
 He shook the young officer heartily by the hand, 
 a ceremony which he instantly repeated with the 
 fair Edith ; and giving them to understand that 
 he claimed them as his ow^n especial guests, in- 
 sisted, with much lionest warmth, that old compa- 
 nionship in arms with one of their late nearest and 
 dearest kinsmen had given him a double right to 
 do so: 
 
 ''You must know," said he, "the good old Ma- 
 jor, your uncle, the brave old Major Roly, as 
 we called him, Major Roland Forrester: — well, 
 K'-yaptin, — well, young lady, — my first battle war 
 fought under his command ; and an excellent 
 commander he war; it war on the bloody Mo- 
 nongahela, whar the Frenchmen and Injuns 
 trounced us so promiskous. Perhaps you've h'ard 
 
 VOL. 1. — 3 
 
26 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 him tell of big Tom Bruce, — for so they called 
 me then ? I war a copporal in the first company 
 of Rangers that crossed the river. Lord! how 
 the world is turning upside down ! I war a cop- 
 poral then, and now I'm a k'-yunnel ; a greater 
 man in commission than war ever my old ^Injor; 
 and the Lord, he knows, I thought my old Major 
 Forrester war the greatest man in all Virginee, 
 next to the G'-yovernor, and K'-yunnel George 
 Washington ! Well, you must know% we marched 
 up the g'-yully that runs from the river ; and bang 
 went the Savages' g'-yuns, and smash went their 
 hatchets ; and then it came to close quarters, a 
 regular, rough-and-tumble, hard scratch! And so 
 I war a-head of the Major, and the Major war 
 behind, and the fight had made him as ambitious* 
 as a wild-cat, and he war hungry for a shot; and 
 so says he to me, for I war right afore him, 'Git 
 out of my way, you damned big rascal, till I git a 
 crack at 'em !' And so I got out of his way, for 
 I war mad at being called a damned big rascal, 
 especially as I war doing my best, and covering 
 him from mischief besides. Well ! as soon as I 
 jumped out of his way, bang went his piece, and 
 bang went another, let fly by an Injun ; — down 
 went the Major, shot right through the hips, slam- 
 bang. And so said I, ' Major,' — for I warn't 
 well over my passion, — 'if you'd 'a' taken things 
 easy, I'd 'a' stopped that slug for you.' And so 
 says he, 'Bang away, you big fool, and don't 
 stand talking.' And so he swounded away; and 
 that made me ambitious too, and I killed two of 
 the red niggurs, before you could say Jack Robin- 
 son, just by way of satisfaction for the Major; 
 and then I helped to carry him off to the tumbrels. 
 
 * Ambitious, — in Western parlance, vicious. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 27 
 
 I never see'd my old Major from that day to this; 
 and it war only a month ago that I h'ard of his 
 death. I honour his memory : and so, K'-yaptin, 
 you see, thar's a sort of claim to old friendship be- 
 tween us." 
 
 To this characteristic speech, which was de- 
 livered with great earnestness. Captain Forrester 
 made a suitable response ; and intimating his will- 
 ingness to accept the proffered hospitality of his 
 uncle's companion in arms, he rode forward with 
 his host and kinswoman towards the Station, of 
 which, when once fairly relieved from the forest, 
 he had a clear view. 
 
 It was a quadrangle of stout pickets, firmly 
 driven into the earth, on the brow of a knoll of 
 very gentle ascent, with a strong, though low 
 block-house at each corner ; and was sufficiently 
 spacious to contain a double row of cabins, be- 
 tween which was a vacant area, as well as two 
 others betwixt the cabins and the stockade; and 
 thus afforded shelter not only for its defenders and 
 their families, but for their cattle and horses, 
 which were always driven in, if possible, when an 
 attack was apprehended. A sense of security, 
 arising from increase of numbers, and the absence 
 of hostilities for a long period, had begot a con- 
 tempt for the confined limits of the stockade; and 
 a dozen or more of the settlers had built their 
 cabins without the enclosure, on the slope of the 
 hill, which had now assumed the appearance of a 
 village; though one, it must be confessed, of ex- 
 ceedingly rude and primitive appearance. The 
 houses were, in every instance, of logs, even to 
 the chimneys ; which being, therefore, of a com- 
 bustible temper, notwithstanding the goodly daub- 
 ing of clay with which they were plastered, were 
 made to incline outwards from the perpendicular, 
 
28 XICK or THE WOODS. 
 
 so as to be dclaclied from the building iiself, a.^ 
 they rose. By this arrangement, the dangers of a 
 conflagration were guarded against ; for when the 
 burning of the chimney involved, as doubtless it 
 often did. tiic wooden materials of the chimney 
 itself, it was easy to tear it down, before the flames 
 communicated to the cabin. 
 
 Such was the appearance of a fortified settle- 
 ment, at that time, one of the most prominent of 
 all the Stations in Kentucky; and when we repeat 
 that the forest had vanished in its immediate 
 vicinity, to make way for rich fields of corn, — 
 that divers great gaps were, at a distance, seen in 
 its massive green walls, where the tall oaks and 
 walnuts, girdled and leafless, but not yet fallen>, 
 admitted the sunshine upon other crops as rich 
 and as verdant, — and that all beyond and around 
 was a dark and solemn wilderness, the tree-top 
 aloft and tlie cane-brake below, we have a pro])er 
 idea of the aspect and condition of the lonely 
 strongholds, which succeeding years saw changed 
 into towns and villages. 
 
 The Station seemed unusually populous, as, ii:.- 
 deed, it was; but Roland, as he rode by, remarked, 
 on the skirts of the village, a dozen or more shoot- 
 ing-targets set up on the green,, and perceived it 
 was a gala-day which had drawn the young men 
 from a distance to the fort. Th-is, in fact, he was 
 speedily told by a youth, wliom the worthy Bruce 
 introduced to him as his oldest son and namesake, 
 'big Tom Bruce^ — the third of that name; the 
 other two Toms, — for two others he had had, — 
 having been killed by the Injuns, and he having 
 changed the boy's name, that he might have a 
 Tom in the family.* The youth was worthy of his 
 father, being full six feet high, though scarcely 
 yet out of his teens, and presented a visage ot 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 29 
 
 such serene gravity and good-humoured simpUcity, 
 as won the affections of the soldier in a moment. 
 
 " Thar's a boy now, the brute," said Colonel 
 Bruce, sending him off to assist in the distribution of 
 the guests among the settlers, " that comes of the 
 best stock for loving women and fighting Injuns 
 in all Kentucky! And so, captain, if young madam, 
 your sister h'yar, is for picking a husband out of 
 Kentuck, I'll say it, and stand to it, thar's not a 
 better lad to be found than Tom Bruce, if you 
 hunt the District all over. You'd scarce believe 
 it, mom," he continued, addressing Edith her- 
 self, " but the young brute did actually take the 
 scalp of a full grown Shawnee, before he war 
 fourteen y'ar old, and that in fa'r fight, whar thar 
 war none to help him. The way of it war this: 
 Tom war out in the range, looking for a neigh- 
 bour's horse; when what should he see but two 
 great big Shawnees astride of the identicular 
 beast he war hunting! Away went Tom, and 
 away went the bloody villians hard after, one of 
 'em afoot, the other on the horse. 'Now,' said Tom, 
 ' this won't do, no how;' and so he let fly at the 
 mounted feller ; but being a little skeary, as how 
 could he help it, the young brute, being the first 
 time he ever banged at an Injun, he hit the horse, 
 which dropped down in a flurry; and away comes 
 the red devil over his head, like a rocket, eend on to a 
 saphng. Up jumps Tom and picks up the Injun's 
 gun; and bang goes the other Shaw^nee at him, and 
 jumps to a tree. ' A bird in the hand,' said Tom, 
 ' is worth two in a bush;' and with that, he blows 
 out the first feller's brains, just as he is gitting up, 
 and runs into the fort, hard chased by the other. 
 And then to see the feller, when I asked him w4iy 
 he did n't shoot the Injun that had fired at him, 
 and so make sure of both, the other beinff in a 
 3* 
 
30 NICK OF THE WOODS- 
 
 sort of swound-like from tlie tmiible, and ready to 
 be knocked on the head at any moment? * Lord!* 
 said Tom. ' I never tliought of it» I war such a 
 fool!' and with that he blubbered all night, to 
 think he had not killed them both. Howsomever, I 
 war always of opinion that what he had done war 
 good work for a boy of fourteen. — But, come now, 
 my lovely young mom; we are entering the 
 Station. May you never enter a house where you 
 are less welcome." 
 
MCK OF THE WOODS. 31 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Men and boys had rushed from the fortress 
 together, to greet the new comers, and few re- 
 mained save the women; of whom not a few% 
 particularly of the younger individuals, were as 
 eager to satisfy their curiosity as their fathers 
 and brothers. The disorderly spirit had spread 
 even among the daughters of the commandant, to 
 the great concern of his spouse ; who, although 
 originally of a degree somewhat humbler even 
 than his own, had a much more elevated sense of 
 the dignity of his commission as a colonel of mi- 
 litia, and a due consciousness of the necessity of 
 adapting her manners to her rank. She stood on 
 the porch of her cabin, which had the merit of 
 being larger than any other in the fort, maintain- 
 ing order among some half dozen or more lasses, 
 the oldest scarce exceeding seventeen, whom she 
 endeavoured to range in a row, to receive the 
 expected guests in state, though every moment 
 some one or other might be seen edging away 
 from her side, as if in the act of deserting her 
 altogether. 
 
 " Out on you, you flirting critturs '/' said she, 
 her indignation provoked, and her sense of pro- 
 priety shocked by such unworthy behaviour : — 
 " Stop thar, you Nell ! w^har you going ? You 
 Sally, you Phcebe, you Jane, and the rest of you! 
 ha'nt you no better idea of what's manners for a 
 Gunnel's daughters'? , I'm ashamed of you, — to 
 
32 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 run ramping and tearing after the strannge men 
 thar, like tom-boys, or any common person's 
 daughters ! Laws ! do remember your father's a 
 Cunnel in the mihshy, and set down in the porch 
 here on the bencli, like genteel young ladies ; or 
 stand up, if you like that better, and wait till your 
 father, Cunnel Bruce that is, brings up the cap- 
 tains: one of 'em 's a rale army captain, with 
 epaulets and broad-sword, with a chance of 
 money, and an uncommon handsome sister, — rale 
 genteel people from old Virginnee : and I'm glad 
 of it, — it's so seldom you sees any body but com- 
 mon persons come to Kentucky. Do behave 
 yourselves: thar's Telle Doe thar at the loci-in 
 don't think so much as turning her eyes around ; 
 she's a pattern for you." 
 
 " Law, mother !" said the eldest of the daugh- 
 ters, bridling with disdain, *' I reckon I know how 
 to behave myself as well as Tclic Doe, or any 
 other girl in the settlement ;" — a declaration 
 echoed and re-echoed by her sisters, all of whom 
 bent their eyes towards a corner of the ample 
 porch, where, busied with a rude loom, fashioned 
 perhaps by the axe and knife of the militia colonel 
 himself, on which she was weaving a coarse cloth 
 from the fibres of the flax-nettle, sat a female 
 somewhat younger than the oldest of the sisters, 
 and doubtless of a more humble degree, as was 
 shown by the labour in which she was engaged, 
 while the others seemed to enjoy a holyday, and 
 by her coarse brown garments, worn at a moment 
 when the fair Bruces were flaunting in their best 
 bibs and tuckers, the same having been put on not 
 more in honour of the exiles, whose coming had 
 been announced the day before, than out of com- 
 pliment to the young men of the settlement, who 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 33 
 
 were wont to assemble on such occasions to 
 gather the latest news from the States. 
 
 The pattern of good manners thus referred to, 
 was as unconscious of the compliment bestowed 
 upon her by the worthy Mrs. Bruce as of the 
 glances of disdain it drew from the daughters, 
 being apparently at that moment too much occu- 
 pied with her work to think of any thing else; 
 nor did she lift up her eyes until, the conversation 
 having been resumed between the mother and 
 daughters, one of the latter demanded ' what was 
 the name of that army captain, that was so rich 
 and great, of whom her mother had been talking?* 
 
 "Captain Roland Forrester," replied the latter; 
 at the sound of which name the maiden at the 
 loom started and looked up with an air of fright, 
 that caused exceeding diversion among the others. 
 " Look at Telle Doe !" they cried, laughing : " you 
 can't speak above your breath but she thinks you 
 are speaking to her ; and, sure, you can't speak to 
 her, but she looks as if she would jump out of her 
 skin, and run away for her dear life !" 
 
 And so, indeed, the girl did appear for a mo- 
 ment, looking as wild and terrified as the animal 
 whose name she bore, when the first bay of the 
 deer-hound startles her in the deep woodland pas- 
 tures, roUing her eyes, catching her breath con- 
 vulsively, shivering, and, in short, betraying a 
 degree of agitation that would have appeared 
 unaccountable to a stranger ; though, as it caused 
 more amusement than surprise among the merry 
 Bruces, it was but fair to suppose that it sprung 
 from constitutional nervousness, or the sudden 
 interruption of her meditations. As she started 
 np in her confusion, rolling her eyes from one 
 laughing maiden to another, her very trepida- 
 tion imparted an interest to her features, which 
 
34 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 were in themselves pretty enoiigli, though not so 
 much so as to attract observation, when in a state 
 of rest. Then it was that the observer might see, 
 or fancy he saw, a world of latent expression in 
 her wild dark eyes, and trace the workings of 
 a quick and sensitive spirit, whose existencewould 
 have been otiierwise unsuspected, in the tremu- 
 lous movement of her lips. And then, too, one 
 might have been struck with the exquisite contour 
 of a slight figure, which even the coarse gar- 
 ments, spun, and perhaps shaped, by her own 
 hands, could not entirely conceal. At such times 
 of excitement, there was something in her ap- 
 pearance both striking and singular, — Indian-like, 
 one might almost have said. Such an epithet 
 might have been borne out by the wildness of her 
 looks, the darkness of her eyes, the simple ar- 
 rangement of her coal-black hair, which, instead 
 of being confined by conib or fillet, was twisted 
 round a thorn cut from the nearest locust-tree, 
 and by the smallness of her stature ; though the 
 lightness and European tinge of her complexion 
 must have instantly disproved the idea. 
 
 Her discomposure dispelled from the bosoms of 
 her companions all the little resentment produced 
 by the matron's invidious comparison; and each 
 now did her best to increase it by cries of, "Jump, 
 Telie, the Indians will catch you!" *' Take care, 
 Telie, Tom Bruce will kiss you!" "Run, Telie, 
 the dog will bite you !" and other expressions of a 
 like alarming nature, which, if they did not aug- 
 ment her terror, divided and distracted her atten- 
 tion, till, quite bewildered, she stared now on one, 
 now on the other, and at each mischievous as- 
 sault, started, and trembled, and gasped for breath, 
 in inexpressible confusion. It was fortunate for 
 her that this species of baiting, which, from the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 35 
 
 spirit and skill with which her youthful tormen- 
 tors pursued it, seemed no uncommon infliction, 
 the reforming mother considered to be, at least at 
 that particular moment, unworthy the daughters 
 of a colonel in the militia. 
 
 " Do behave yourselves, you ungenteel critturs," 
 said she ; " Phoebe Bruce, you're old enough to 
 know better ; don't expose yourself before strann- 
 gers. Thar they come now; thar's Gunnel Bruce 
 that is, talking to Captain Forrester that is, and 
 a right-down soldier-looking captain he is, too. I 
 wonder whar's his cocked hat, and feather, and 
 goold epaulets? Thar's his big broad-sword, 
 and — but. Lord above us, ar'nt his sister a beauty! 
 Any man in Kentucky will be proud of her; but, 
 1 warrant me, she'll take to nothing under a cun- 
 nel !" 
 
 The young misses ceased their sport to stare at 
 the strangers, and even Telle Doe, pattern of pro- 
 priety as she was, had no sooner recovered her 
 equanimity than she turned her eyes from the 
 loom and bent them eagerly upon the train now 
 entering through the main gate, gazing long and 
 earnestly upon the young captain and the fair 
 Edith, who, with the colonel of militia, and a 
 fourth individual, parted from it, and rode up to 
 the porch. The fourth person, a sober and sub- 
 stantial-looking borderer, in a huge blanket-coat 
 and slouched hat, the latter stuck round with 
 bucks' tails, was the nominal captain of the party. 
 He conversed a moment with Forrester and the 
 commandant, and then, being given in charge by 
 the latter to his son Tom, who was hallooed from 
 the crowd for this purpose, he rode away, leaving 
 the colonel to do the honours to his second in 
 command. These the colonel executed with much 
 courtesy and gallantry, if not with grace, leaping 
 
36 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 from his horse with unexpected activity, and as- 
 sisting Edith to dismount, which he effected hy 
 takinir her in his arms and whisking her from the 
 saddle with as little apparent eifort as though he 
 were handling an infant. 
 
 "Welcome, my beautiful young lady," said he, 
 giving her another hearty shake of the hand : 
 " H'yar's a house that shall shelter you ; though 
 thar's not much can be said of it, except that it is 
 safe and wholesome. H'yar's my old lady too, and 
 my daughters, that will make much of you; and 
 as for my sons, thar's not a brute of 'em that 
 won't fight for you ; but th' ar' all busy stowing 
 away the strangers; and, I reckon, they think it 
 ar'nt manners to show themselves to a vouno- 
 lady, while she's making acquaintance with the 
 women." 
 
 With that the gallant colonel presented the fair 
 stranger to his wile and daughters, the latter of 
 whom, a little daunted at first by her appearance, 
 as a being superior in degree to the ordinary 
 race of mortals, but quickly re-assured by her 
 frank and easy deportment, loaded her with ca- 
 resses, and carried her into the house, to improve 
 the few hours allowed to make her acquaintance, 
 and to assist her in changing her apparel, for 
 which the means were furnished from sundry bags 
 and packages, that the elder of the two negro- 
 men, the only immediate followers of her kins- 
 men, took from the back of a pack-horse. The 
 mother of the Bruces thought it advisable to 
 follow them, to see, perhaps, in person, that they 
 conducted themselves towards their guest as a 
 colonel's daughter should. 
 
 None of the females remained on the porch 
 save Telie, the girl of the loom, who, too humble 
 or too timid to seek the acquaintance of the stran- 
 
I 
 
 NICK OF THE WOODS. 37 
 
 ger lady, like the others, had been overlooked in 
 the bustle, and now pursued her labour with but 
 little notice from tFiose who remained. 
 
 '* And now, colonel," said the young officer, de* 
 dining the offer of refreshments made by his host, 
 ** allow me, like a true soldier, to proceed to the 
 business with which you heard our commander, 
 Major Johnson, charge me. To-morrow we re- 
 sume our journey to the Falls. I should gladly 
 myself, for Miss Forrester's sake, consent to re- 
 main with you a few days, to recruit our strength 
 a little. But that cannot be. Our men are re- 
 solved to push on without delay; and as I have no 
 authority to restrain them, I must e'en accompany 
 them." 
 
 " Well," said Colonel Bruce, " if it must be, it 
 must, and I'm not the brute to say No to you. But 
 lord, captain, I should be glad to have you stay a 
 month or two, war it only to have a long talk 
 about my old friend, the brave old major. And 
 thar's your sister, captain, — lord, sir, she would 
 be the pet of the family, and would help my wife 
 teach the girls manners. Lord!" he continued, 
 laughing, " you 've no idea what grand notions 
 have got into the old woman's head about the way 
 of behaving, ever since it war that the Governor 
 of Virginnie sent me a cunnel's commission. She 
 thinks I ought to w'ar a cocked hat and goold 
 swabs, and put on a blue coat instead of a leather 
 shirt: but I wonder how soon I'd see the end of it, 
 out h'yar in the bushes? And then, as for the 
 girls, why thar 's no end of the lessons she gives 
 them; — and thar 's my Jenny, — that 's the young- 
 est, — came blubbering up the other day, saying, 
 * she believed mother intended even to stop their 
 licking at the sugar-troughs, she was gitting so 
 
 VOL. I. — 4 
 
38 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 great and so proud I' Howsomcvcr, women will 
 be w^omen, and thar 's the end of it/' 
 
 To this philosophic remark the officer of infe- 
 rior degree bowed acquiescence, and recalUng liis 
 host's attention to the subject of most interest to 
 himself, requested to be informed what difficulties 
 or dangers might be appreliended on the further 
 route to the Falls of Oliio. 
 
 " Why, none on 'arth that 1 know of," said 
 Bruce; " you 've as cl'ar and broad a trace before 
 you as man and beast could make — abutialo-street* 
 through the canes; and, when thar's open woods, 
 blazes as thick as stars, and horse-tracks still 
 thicker: thar war more than a thousand settlers 
 have travelled it this year already. As for dann- 
 gers, captain, why I reckon thar's none to think 
 on. Thar war a good chance of whooping and 
 howling about Bear's Grass, last year, and some 
 hard fighting; but I h'ar nothing of Injuns thar 
 this y'ar. But you leave some of your people 
 h'yar : what force do you tote down to the Falls 
 to-morrow?" 
 
 "Twenty-seven guns in all; but several quite 
 too young to face an enemy." 
 
 " Thar 's no trusting to years, in a matter of 
 fighting!" said the Kentuckian. " Thar's my son 
 Tom, that killed his brute at fourteen; but, I re- 
 member, I told you that story. Ilowsomever, I 
 hold thar's no Injuns on the road; and if you 
 should meet any, why, it will be down about 
 Bear's Grass, or the Forks of Salt, w^har you can 
 keep your eyes open, and whar the settlements are 
 so thick, it is easy taking cover. No, no, captain, 
 the fighting this year is all on the north side of 
 Kentucky." 
 
 * The bison-paths, when very broad, were often tlius 
 called. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 39 
 
 " Yet, I believe," said Roland, " there have been 
 no troubles there since the defeat of Captain Estill 
 on Little Mountain, and of Holder at that place, 
 — w^hat do you call it?" 
 
 "Upper Blue Licks of Licking," said Bruce; 
 " and war'nt they troubles enough for a season? 
 Two Kentucky captains (and one of them a south- 
 side man, too,) whipped in fa'r fight, and by no- 
 thing better than brutish Injuns!" 
 
 " They were sad affairs, indeed; and the num- 
 bers of white men murdered made them still more 
 shocking." 
 
 " The murdering," said the gallant Colonel 
 Bruce, " is nothing, sir: it is the shame of the 
 thumping that makes one feel ambitious; thar's 
 the thing no Kentuckian can stand, sir. To be 
 murdered, whar thar's ten Injuns to one white 
 man, is nothing; but whar it comes to being 
 trounced by equal numbers, why thar's the thing 
 not to be tolerated. Howsomever, captain, we're 
 no w^orse off in Kentucky than our neighbours. 
 Thar's them five hundred Pennsylvanians, that 
 went out in June, under old Cunnel Crawford from 
 Pittsburg, agin the brutes of Sandusky, war 
 more ridiculously whipped by old Captain Pipe, 
 the Delaware, thar's no denying." 
 
 " What!" said Roland, " was Crawford's com- 
 pany beaten?" 
 
 "Beaten!" said the Kentuckian, opening his 
 eyes; " cut off the h, and say the savages made a 
 dinner of 'em, and you'll be nearer the true his- 
 tory of the matter. It's but two months ago; and 
 so I suppose the news of the affa'r had n't got 
 into East Virginnie when you started. Well, cap- 
 tain, the long and short of it is, — the cunnel war 
 beaten and exterminated, and that on a hard run 
 from the fight he had hunted hard after. How many 
 
40 NICK OF THE WOODS-. 
 
 ever got back safe again to Pittsburg, I never 
 could rightly h'ar; but what I know is, that thar 
 war dozens of prisoners beaten to death by the 
 squaws and children, and that old Gunnel Craw- 
 ford himself war put to the double torture and 
 roasted alive; and, I reckon, if he war'nt eaten, it 
 war only because he war too old to be tender/' 
 
 "Horrible!" said the young soldier,, muttering, 
 half to himself, though not in tones so low but 
 that the Kentuckian caught their import; " and I 
 must expose my poor Edith to fall into the power 
 of such fiends and monsters!" 
 
 " Ay, captain," said Bruce, " thar's the thing 
 that sticks most in the heart of them that live in 
 the wilderness and have wives and daughters; — to- 
 think of their falling into the hands of the brutes, 
 who murder and scalp a woman just as readily as 
 a man. As to their torturing them, that's not so 
 certaiir^, but the brutes are n't a bit too good for 
 it ; and I did h'ar of their burning one poor wo- 
 man at Sandusky.* But now, captain^ if you are 
 anxious to have the young lady, your sister, in 
 safety, h'yar'^s the place to stick up your tent- 
 poles, h'yar in this very settlement, whar the In- 
 juns never trouble us, never coming within ten 
 miles of us. Thar's as good land here as on 
 Bear's Grass; and we shall be glad of your com- 
 pany. It is not often we have a rich man to take 
 luck among us. Howsomever, I won't deceive 
 you, if you will go to the Ohio; I hold, thar's no 
 danger on the trace for either man or woman." 
 
 '• My good friend/' said Roland, " you seem to 
 
 * The worthy Kentuckian was perhaps mistaken. A 
 female captive from Pittshurg was however actually bound 
 to the stake near the Sandusky villages, and rescued with 
 difficulty by British traders. But this happened in 171^0* 
 eight years after the date of our story. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 41 
 
 labour under two errors in respect to me, which 
 it is fitting I should correct. In the first place, the 
 lady whom you have several times called, I know 
 not why, my sister, claims no such near relation- 
 ship, being only my cousin." 
 
 " Why, sure!" said the colonel, " some one told 
 me so, and thar's a strong family likeness." 
 
 " There should be," said the youth, " since our 
 fathers were twin brothers, and resembled each 
 other in all particulars, in body, in mind, and, as 
 I may say, in fortune. They were alike in their 
 lives, alike also in their deaths : they fell together, 
 struck down by the same cannon-ball, at the 
 bombardment of Norfolk, seven years ago." 
 
 " May I never see a scalp," said the Kentuckian, 
 warmly grasping the young man's hand, " if I 
 don't honour you the more for boasting such a 
 father and such uncles ! You come of the true 
 stock, captain, thar's no denying ; and my brave 
 old major's estates have fallen into the right 
 hands; for, if thar's any believing the news the 
 last band of emigrants brought of you here, thar 
 war no braver officer in Lee's corps, nor in the 
 whole Virginnie line, than young Captain Forres- 
 ter." 
 
 " Here," said Roland, looking as if what he said 
 cost him a painful effort, " lies the second error, — 
 your considering me, as you manifestly do, the 
 heir of your old major, my uncle Roland, — which 
 I am noV^ 
 
 " Lord !" said the worthy Bruce, " he was the 
 richest man in Prince-George, and he had thou- 
 sands of fat acres in the Valley, the best in all 
 Fincastle, as I know very well, for I war a Fin- 
 castle man myself; and thar war my old friend 
 Braxley, — he war a lieutenant under the major at 
 Braddock's, and afterwards his steward, and man- 
 4* 
 
42 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 ger, and lawyer-like, — w lio used to come over the 
 Ridge, to see after them. But I see how it is; he 
 left all to the young lady ?'' 
 
 " Not an acre," said Roland. 
 
 " What !" said the Kentuckian : '' he left no 
 children of his own. Who then is the heir?'' 
 
 '' Your old friend, as you called him, Richard 
 Braxley. — And hence you see," continued the 
 youth, as if desirous to change the conversation, 
 " that I come to Kentucky, an adventurer and 
 fortune-hunter, like other emigrants, to locate 
 lands under proclamation-warrants and bounty- 
 grants, to fell trees, raise corn, shoot bisons and 
 Indians, and, in general, to do any thing else that 
 can be required of a good Virginian or good Ken- 
 tuckian." 
 
 It was evidently the captain's wish now to leave 
 altogether the subject on which he had thought it 
 incumbent to acquaint his host with so much ; but 
 the worthy Bruce was not so easily satisfied; and 
 not conceiving there was any peculiar impro- 
 priety in indulging curiosity in matters relating to 
 his old major, however distasteful that curiosity 
 might prove to his guest, he succeeded in drawling 
 from the reluctant young man many more par- 
 ticulars of his story ; which, as they have an im- 
 portant connexion with the events it is our object 
 to narrate, we must be pardoned for briefly no- 
 ticing. 
 
 Major Roland Forrester, the uncle and god- 
 father of the young soldier, and the representative 
 of one of the most ancient and aflluent families 
 on James River, (for by this trivial name Vir- 
 ginians are content to designate the noble Poy> 
 hatan,) was the eldest of three brothers, of w^hom 
 the two younger, as was often the case under the 
 ancien rSgime in Virginia, were left, at the death 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS, 43 
 
 of their parent, to shift for themselves ; while the 
 eldest son inherited the undivided princely estate 
 of his ancestors. This was at the period when 
 that contest of principle with power, which finally 
 resulted in the separation of the American Colo- 
 nies from the parent State, first began to agitate 
 the minds of the good planters of Virginia, in 
 common with the people of all the other colonies. 
 Men had already begun to take sides, in feeling, 
 as in argument; and, as usual, interest had, no 
 doubt, its full share in directing and confirming 
 tlie predilections of individuals. These circum- 
 stances, — the regular succession of the eldest-born 
 to the paternal estate, and the necessity imposed 
 on the others of carving out their own fortunes, — 
 had, perhaps, their influence in determining the 
 political bias of the brothers, and preparing them 
 for contention, when the increase of party feeling 
 and the clash of interests between the govern- 
 ment abroad and the colonies at home, called upon 
 all men to avow their principles and take their 
 stands. It was as natural that the one should re- 
 tain affection and reverence for the institutions 
 which had made him rich and distinguished, as 
 that the younger brothers, who had suffered under 
 them a deprivation of their natural rights, should 
 declare for a system of government and laws 
 more liberal and equitable in their character and 
 operation. At all events, and be the cause of dif- 
 ference what it might, when the storm of the Re- 
 volution burst over the land, the brothers were 
 found arrayed on opposite sides, the two younger, 
 the fathers of Roland and Edith, instantly taking 
 up arms in the. popular cause, while nothing, 
 perhaps, but helpless feebleness and bodily in- 
 firmities, the results of wounds received in Brad- 
 dock's war, throughout which he had fought at 
 
44 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 the head of a battahon of " Buckskhis/' or Vir- 
 ginia Rangers, prevented the elder brother from 
 arming as zealously in the cause of his king. 
 Fierce, uncompromising, and vindictive, however, 
 in his temper, he never forgave his brothers the 
 bold and active pari they both took in the contest; 
 and it was his resentment, perhaps, more than na- 
 tural affection for his neglected offspring, that 
 caused him to defeat his brothers' hopes of suc- 
 cession to his estates, (he being himself unmar- 
 ried,) by executing a will in favour of an illegiti- 
 mate child, an infant daughter, whom he drew 
 from concealment and acknowledged as his off- 
 spring. This child, however, was soon removed, 
 having been burned to death in the house of its 
 foster-mother. But its decease effected little or no 
 change in his feelings towards his brothers ; who, 
 pursuing the principles they had so early avowed, 
 were among the first to take arms among the pa- 
 triots of Virginia, and fell, as Roland had said, at 
 Norfolk, leaving each an orphan child, Roland 
 then a youth of fifteen, and Edith a child of ten, 
 to the mercy of the elder brother. Their death 
 effected what perhaps their prayers never would 
 have done. The stern loyalist took the orphans 
 to his bosom, cherished and loved them, or at least 
 appeared to do so, and often avowed his intention 
 to make them his heirs. But it was Roland's ill 
 fate to provoke his ire, as Roland's father had 
 done before him. The death of that father, one 
 of the earliest martyrs to liberty, had created in 
 his youthful mind a strong abhorrence of every 
 thing British and loyal; and after presuming a 
 dozen times or more to disclose and defend his 
 hatred, he put the coping-stone to his audacity, by 
 suddenly leaving his uncle's house, two years after 
 he had been received into it, and galloping away, 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 45 
 
 a cornet in one of the companies of the first regi- 
 ment of horse which Virginia sent to the armies 
 of Congress. He never more saw his uncle. He 
 cared little for his wrath, or its effects ; if disin- 
 herited himself, it pleased his imagination to think 
 he had enriched his gentle cousin. But his uncle 
 carried his resentment further than he had dream- 
 ed, or indeed any one else who had beheld the 
 show of affection he continued to the orphan 
 Edith, up to the last moment of his existence. He 
 died in October of the preceding year, a week be- 
 fore the capitulation at York-town, and almost 
 within the sound of the guns that proclaimed the 
 fall of the cause he had so loyally espoused. From 
 this place of victory Roland departed to seek his 
 kinswoman. He found her in the house, — not of 
 his fathers, but of a stranger, — herself a destitute 
 and homeless orphan. No will appeared to pro- 
 nounce her the mistress of the wealth he had 
 himself rejected; but, in place of it, the original 
 testament in favour of Major Forrester's own 
 child, was produced by Braxley, his confidential 
 friend and attorney, who, by it, was appointed 
 both executor of the estate and trustee to the in- 
 dividual in whose favour it was constructed. 
 
 The production of such a testament, so many 
 years after the death of the girl, caused no little 
 astonishment ; but this was still further increased 
 by what followed, the aforesaid Braxley instantly 
 taking possession of the whole estate in the name 
 of the heiress, who, he made formal deposition, 
 was, to the best of his belief, yet alive, and would 
 appear to claim her inheritance. In support of this 
 extraordinary averment, he produced, or professed 
 himself ready to produce, evidence to show that 
 Forrester's child, instead of being burned to death 
 as was believed, had actually been trepanned and 
 
46 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 carried away by persons to him unknown, the 
 burning of the house of her foster-mother having 
 been devised and exceuted merely to give colour 
 to the story of her death. Who were the perpe- 
 trators of such an outrage, and for what purpose 
 it had been devised, he affected to be ignorant; 
 though he threw out many hints and surmises of 
 a character more painful to Edith and Roland 
 than even the loss of the property. These hints 
 Roland could not persuade himself to repeat to the 
 curious Kentuckian, since they w^ent, in fact, to 
 charge his own father, and Edith's, with the crime 
 of having themselves concealed the child, for the 
 purpose of removing the only bar to their expecta- 
 tions of succession. 
 
 Whatever might be thought of this singular 
 story, it gained some believers, and was enough 
 in the hands of Braxley, a man of great address 
 and resolution, and, withal, a lawyer, to enable 
 him to laugh to scorn the feeble efforts made by 
 the impoverished Roland to bring it to the test of 
 legal arbitrement. Despairing, in fact, of his cause, 
 after a few trials had convinced him of his impo- 
 tence, and perhaps himself almost believing the 
 tale to be true, the young man gave up the con- 
 test, and directed his thoughts to the condition of 
 his cousin Edith ; who, upon the above circum- 
 stances being made known, had received a warm 
 invitation to the house and protection of her only 
 female relative, a married lady, whose husband 
 had, two years before, emigrated to the Falls of 
 Ohio, where he was now a person of considerable 
 importance. This invitation determined the course 
 to be pursued. The young man instantly resigned 
 his commission, and converting the little property 
 that remained into articles necessary to the emi- 
 grant, turned his face to the boundless West, and 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 47 
 
 with his helpless kinswoman at his side, plunged 
 at once into the forest. A home for Edith in the 
 house of a relative was the first object of his de- 
 sires ; his second, as he had already mentioned, 
 was to lay the foundation for the fortunes of both, 
 by locating lands on proclamation-warrants, as 
 they were called, (being grants of western lands 
 made to the colonists who had served the crown 
 in the provincial French wars,) which the two had 
 inherited from their fathers, besides the bounty- 
 grants earned by himself in virtue of mihtary ser- 
 vice rendered in the army of his native state. 
 
 There was something in the condition of the 
 young and almost friendless adventurers to interest 
 the feelings of the hardy Kentuckian; but they 
 were affected still more strongly by the generous 
 self-sacrifice, as it might be called, which the 
 young soldier was evidently making for his kins- 
 woman, for whom he had given up an honourable 
 profession and his hopes of fame and distinction, 
 to live a life of inglorious toil in the desert. He 
 gave the youth another energetic grasp of hand, 
 and said, with uncommon emphasis, — 
 
 "Hark'ee, Captain, my lad, I lov^e and honour 
 ye ; and I could say no more, if you war my own 
 natteral born father ! As to that 'ar' Richard 
 Braxley, whom I call'd my old friend, you must 
 know, it war an old custom I have of calhng a 
 man a friend who war only an acquaintance ; for 
 I am for being friendly to all men that are white 
 and honest, and no Injuns. Now, I do hold that 
 Braxley to be a rascal, — a precocious rascal, sir ! 
 and, I rather reckon, tharwar lying and villiany at 
 the bottom of that will ; and I hope you'll five to 
 see the truth of it.'^ 
 
 The sympathy felt by the Kentuckian in the 
 story was experienced in a still stronger degree 
 
48 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 by Telie Doe, the girl of the loom, who, little no- 
 ticed, if at all, by the two, sat apparently occu- 
 pied with her work, yet drinking in every word 
 uttered by the young soldier with a deep and eager 
 interest, until Roland by chance looking round, be- 
 held her large eyes fastened upon him, with a 
 wild, sorrowful look, of which, however, she her- 
 self seemed quite unconscious, that greatly sur- 
 prised him. The Kentuckian observing her at the 
 same time, called to her, — " What, Telie, my girl, 
 are you working upon a holyday ? You should be 
 dressed like the others, and making friends with 
 the strannger lady. And so git away with you now, 
 and make yourself handsome, and don't stand thar 
 looking as if the gentleman would eat you." 
 
 Upon being thus accosted, the girl exhibited 
 much of the same terror and flurry of spirits that 
 she had shown on a previous occasion ; but obey- 
 ing the order at last, she left the loom, and stole 
 timorously into the house. 
 
 "A qu'ar crittur she, poor thing!" said Bruce, 
 looking after her commiseratingly, " and a strannger 
 might think her no more nor half-witted. But she 
 has sense enough, poor crittur ! and, I reckon, is 
 just as smart, if she war not so humble and skit- 
 tish, as any of my own daughters." 
 
 "What," said Roland, "is she not then your 
 child ?" 
 
 " No, no," replied Bruce, shaking his head, " a 
 poor crittur, of no manner of kin whatever. Her 
 father war an old friend, or acquaintance-like ; for, 
 rat it, I won't own friendship for any such aposta- 
 tized villians, no how: — but the man war taken by 
 the Shawnees ; and so as thar war none to be- 
 friend her, and she war but a little chit no bigger 
 nor my hand, I took to her myself and raised her. 
 But the worst of it is, and that's what makes her 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 49 
 
 SO wild and skeary, her father, Abel Doe, turned 
 Injun himself, like Girty, Elliot, and the rest of 
 them refugee scoundrels you've h'ard of. Now 
 thaVs enough, you see, to make the poor thing sad 
 and frightful ; for Abel Doe is a rogue, thar's no 
 denying, and every body hates and cusses him, as 
 is but his due : and it's natteral, now she's growing 
 old enough to be ashamed of him, she should be 
 ashamed of herself too, — though thar's nothing 
 but her father to charge against her, poor creatur'. 
 A bad thing for her, to have an Injunized father ; 
 for if it war'nt for him, I reckon my son Tom, the 
 brute, would take to her, and marry her." 
 
 "Poor creature, indeed I" muttered Roland to 
 himself, contrasting in thought the condition of 
 this helpless and deserted girl with that of his own 
 unfortunate kinswoman, and sighing to acknow- 
 ledge that it was still more forlorn and pitiable. 
 
 His sympathy was, however, but short-lived, 
 being interrupted on the instant by a loud uproar 
 of voices from the gate of the stockade, sounding 
 half in mirth, half in triumph ; while the junior 
 Bruce was seen approaching the porch, looking 
 the very messenger of good news. 
 
 VOL. 
 
50 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " What's the matter, Tom Bruce ?" said the 
 father, eyeing him with surprise. 
 
 " Matter enough," responded the young giant, 
 with a grin of mingled awe and dehght ; " the 
 Jibbenainosay is up again !" 
 
 "Whar?" cried the senior, eagerly, — " not in 
 our limits'?" 
 
 " No, by Jehoshaphat !" replied Tom ; " but 
 nigh enough to be neighbourly, — on the north 
 bank of Kentuck, whar he has left his mark 
 right in the middle of the road, as fresh as 
 though it war but the work of the morning !" 
 
 " And a clear mark, Tom ? — no mistake in it?" 
 
 " Right to an iota!" said the young man; — "a 
 reggelar cross on the breast, and a good toma- 
 hawk-dig right through the skull; and a long- 
 legg'd fellow too, that looked as if he might have 
 fou'told Sattan himself!" 
 
 " It 's the Jibbenainosay, sure enough : and so 
 good luck to him !" cried the commander : *' thar's 
 a harricane coming !" 
 
 "Who is the Jibbenainosay?" demanded For- 
 rester. 
 
 "Who?" cried Tom Bruce; "Why Nick,— 
 Nick of the Woods." 
 
 " And who, if you please, is Nick of the 
 Woods ?" 
 
 " Thar," replied the junior with another grin, 
 " thar, strannger, you 're too hard for me. Some 
 
NIGK OF THE WOODS. 5 1 
 
 think one thing, and some another; but thar's 
 many reckon he's the devil." 
 
 " And his mark, that you were talking of in 
 such mysterious terms, — what is that ?" 
 
 " Why, a dead Injun, to be sure, with Nick's 
 mark on him', — a knife-cut, or a brace of 'em, over 
 the ribs in the shape of a cross. Thai's the way 
 the Jibbenainosay marks all the meat of his kill- 
 ing. It has been a whole year now since we 
 h'ard of him." 
 
 "Captain," said the elder Bruce, "you don't 
 seem to understand the affa'r altogether; but if 
 you war to ask Tom about the Jibbenainosay till 
 doomsday, he could tell you no more than he has 
 told already. You must know, thar's a creatur' 
 of some sort or other that ranges the woods round 
 about our station h'yar, keeping a sort of guard 
 over us like, and killing all the brute Injuns that 
 ar' onlucky enough to come in his way, besides 
 scalping them, and marking them with his mark. 
 The Injuns call him Jibbenainosay, or a word oi 
 that natur', which them that know more about 
 the Injun gabble than I do, say means the Spirit- 
 ihat-walks; and if we can believe any such lying 
 devils as Injuns, (which I am loath to do, for the 
 truth ar'nt in 'em,) he is neither man nor beast, but 
 a great ghost or devil that knife cannot harm nor 
 bullet touch ; and they have always had an idea 
 that our fort h'yar in partickelar, and the country 
 round about, war under his friendly protection — 
 many thanks to him, whether he be a devil or not; 
 for that war the reason the savages so soon left 
 off a worrying of us." 
 
 " Is it possible," said Roland, " that any one can 
 believe such an absurd story?" 
 
 " Why not," said Bruce, stoutly. " Thar's the 
 Injuns themselves, Shawnees, Hurons, Delawares 
 
52 NICK or THE W00D3. 
 
 and all,— but partickelarly the Shawnees, for he 
 beats all creation a-kiiling of Shawnees, — that be- 
 lieve in him, and hold him in such etarnal dread, 
 that thar's scarce a brute of 'em has come withia 
 ten rniles of the station h'yar^ this three y^ar: be- 
 cause as how, he haunts about our woods h'yar 
 in partickelar, and he kills 'em wheresomever he 
 catches 'em, — especially the Shawnees, as I said 
 afore, against which the creatur' has a most butch- 
 ering spite; and there's them among the other 
 tribes that call him the S howneeic annate een, or the 
 Howl of the Shawnees, because of his keeping 
 them ever a howling. And thar's his marks, cap- 
 tain, — what do you make of that ? When you 
 find an Injun lying scalped and tomahawked, it 
 stands to reason thar war something to kill 
 him?' 
 
 " Ay, truly," said Forrester ; " but I think vow 
 have human beings enough to give the credit to, 
 without referring it to a supernatural one." 
 
 " Strannger," said Big Tom Bruce the younger, 
 W'ith a sagacious nod, "when you kill an Injun 
 yourself, I reckon, — meaning no offence — you will 
 be willing to take all the honour that can come of 
 it, without leaving it to be scrambled after hy 
 others. Thar's no man 'arns a scalp in Ken- 
 tucky, without taking great pains to show it to his 
 neighbours." 
 
 " And besides, captain," said the father, very 
 gravely, " thar are men among us who have seen 
 the creatur' !" 
 
 " Thaty' said Roland, who perceived his new 
 friends were not well pleased with his incredulity, 
 " is an argument I can resist no longer." 
 
 " Thar war Ben Jones, and Samuel Sharp, and 
 Peter Smalleye, and a dozen more, who all had 
 a glimpse of him stalking through the woods, at 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 53 
 
 different times; and, they agree, he looks more 
 like a devil nor a mortal man, — a great tall fellow 
 with horns and a hairy head like a buffalo-bull, 
 and a little devil that looks like a black b'ar, that 
 walks before him to point out the w^ay. He war 
 always found in the deepest forests, and that's the 
 reason we call him Nick of the Woods ; wharby 
 we mean Old Nick of the Woods ; for we hold 
 him to be the devil, though a friendly one to all 
 but Injuns. Now, captain, I W'ar never supersti- 
 tious in my life, — but I go my death on the Jib- 
 benainosay! I never seed the creatur' himself, 
 but I have seen in my time tw^o different savages 
 of his killing. It's a sure sign, if you see him in 
 the woods, that thar's Injuns at hand: and it's a 
 good sign when you find his mark, without seeing 
 himself; for then you may be sure the brutes are 
 off, — they can't stand old Nick of the Woods no 
 how ! At first, he war never h'ard of afar from 
 our station ; but he has begun to widen his range. 
 Last year he left his marks down Salt River in 
 Jefferson; and now, you see, he is striking game 
 north of the Kentucky; and I have h'ard of them 
 that say he kills Shaw^nees even in their own 
 country; though consarning that I'll not be so 
 partickelar. No, no, captain, thar's no mistake in 
 Nick of the Woods ; and if you are so minded, 
 we will go and h'ar the whole news of him. But, 
 I say, Tom," continued the Kentuckian, as the 
 three left the porch together, " who brought the 
 news ?" 
 
 "Captain Ralph, — Roaring Ralph Stackpole," 
 replied Tom Bruce, with a knowing and humour- 
 ous look. 
 
 " What !" cried the father, in sudden alarm ; 
 *' Look to the horses, Tom !" 
 
 *' I will," said the youth, laughing : " it war no 
 5* 
 
54 KICK OF THE WOODS- 
 
 sooner known that Captain Ralph war amoi-ig us 
 than it was resolved to have six Regulators in the 
 range all night ! Thar's some of these new colts, 
 (not to speak of our own creaturs^) and especially 
 that blooded brown beast of the captain's, which 
 the nigger calls Brown Briery, or some such 
 name, would set a better man than Roaring Ralph 
 Stackpole's mouth watering." 
 
 " And who," said Roland, " is Roaring Ralpli 
 Stackpole ? and what has he to do with Brown 
 Briareus ?" 
 
 " A proper fellow as ever you saw !" repHed 
 Tom, approvingl}^ ; — "killed two Injuns once, sin- 
 gle-handed, on Bear-Grass, and has stolen more 
 horses from them than ar another man in Ken- 
 tucky. A prime creatur' 1 but he has his fault, 
 poor fellow, and sometimes mistakes a christian's 
 horse for an Injun's, thar's the truth of it !" 
 
 " And such scoundrels you make ofhcers of?" 
 demanded the soldier, indignantly. 
 
 " Oh," said the elder Bruce, " thar's no reggelar 
 commission in the case. But whar thar's a knot 
 of our poor folks out of horses, and inclined to 
 steal a lot from the Shawnees, (which is all fa'r 
 plundering, you see, for thar's not a horse among 
 them, the brutes, that they did not steal from 
 Kentucky,) they send for Roaring Ralph and make 
 him their captain; and a capital one he is, too, 
 being all fight from top to bottom; and as for the 
 stealing part, thar's no one can equal him. But, 
 as Tom says, he sometimes does make mistakes, 
 having stolen horses so often from the Injuns, he 
 can scarce keep his hands ofl' a christian's ; and 
 that makes us wrathy." 
 
 By this time the speakers had reached the gate 
 of the fort, and passed among the cabins outside, 
 where they found a throng of the villagers, sur- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 55 
 
 rounding the captain of horse-thieves, and Hsten- 
 ing with great edification to, and deriving no 
 little amusement from, his account of the last 
 achievement of the Jibbenainosay. Of this, as it 
 related no more than the young Bruce had already 
 repeated, — namely, that, while riding that morn- 
 ing from the north side, he had stumbled upon the 
 corse of an Indian, which bore all the marks of 
 having been a late victim to the wandering de- 
 mon of the woods, — we shall say nothing: — but 
 the appearance and conduct of the narrator, one 
 of the first, and perhaps the parent, of the race of 
 men who have made Salt River so renowned in 
 story, w^ere such as to demand a less summary 
 notice. He was a stout, bandy-legged, broad- 
 shouldered, and bull-headed tatterdemalion, ugly, 
 mean, and villainous of look; yet with an impu- 
 dent, swaggering, joyous self-esteem traced in 
 every feature and expressed in every action of 
 body, that rather disposed the beholder to laugh 
 than to be displeased at his appearance. An old 
 blanket-coat, or wrap-rascal, once white, but now 
 of the same muddy brown hue that stained his 
 visage, and once also of sufficient length to de- 
 fend his legs, though the skirts had long since been 
 transferred to the cufl^s and elbows, \yhere they 
 appeared in huge patches, covered the upper part 
 of his body; while the lower boasted a pair of 
 buckskin breeches and leather wrappers, some- 
 what its junior in age, but its rival in mud and 
 maculation. An old round fur hat, intended 
 originally for a boy, and only made to fit his 
 head by being slit in sundry places at the bottom, 
 thus leaving a dozen yawning gaps, through 
 which, as through the chinks of a lattice, stole out 
 as many stiflf bunches of black hair, gave to the 
 capital excrescence an air as ridiculous as it was 
 
56 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 truly uncouth, which was not a Httle increased by 
 the absence on one side of the brim, and by a 
 loose fragment of it hanging down on the other. 
 To gK'e something martial to an appearance in 
 other respects so outlandish and ludicrous, he had 
 his rifle, and other usual equipments of a woods- 
 man, including the knife and tomahawk, the first 
 of which he carried in his hand, swinging it about 
 at every moment, with a vigour and apparent 
 carelessness well fit to discompose a nervous per- 
 son, had any such happened among his auditors. 
 As if there was not enough in his figure, visage, 
 and attire to move the mirth of beholders, he 
 added to his other attractions a variety of ges- 
 tures and antics of the most extravagant kinds, 
 dancing, leaping and dodging about, clapping his 
 hands and cracking his heels together, w^ith the 
 activity, restlessness, and, we may add, the grace, 
 of a jumping-jack. Such was the worthy, or un- 
 worthy, son of Salt River, a man wholly unknown 
 to history, though not to local and traditionary 
 fame, and much less to the then inhabitants of 
 Bruce's Station, to whom he related his news of 
 the Jibbenainosay with that emphasis and impor- 
 tance of tone and manner which are most signifi- 
 cantly expressed in the phrase of Majnng down 
 the law\' 
 
 As soon as he saw the commander of the Sta- 
 tion approaching, he cleared the throng around 
 him by a skip and a hop, seized the colonel by the 
 hand, and doing the same with the soldier, before 
 Roland could repel him, as he would have done, 
 exclaimed, "Glad to see you, cunnel; — same to 
 
 you, strannger What's the news from Vir- 
 
 ginnie? Strannger, my name's Ralph Stackpole, 
 and I'm a ring-tailed squealer!" 
 
 " Then, Mr. Ralph Stackpole, the ring-tailed 
 
A'lCK OF THE WOODS. 57 
 
 squealer," said Roland, disengaging his hand, '• be 
 so good as to pursue your business, without re- 
 garding or taking any notice of me." 
 
 <* 'Tarnal death to me!" cried the captain of 
 horse-thieves, indignant at the rebuff, " I'm a gen- 
 tleman, and my name 's Fight ! Foot and hand, 
 tooth and nail, claw and mud-scraper, knife, gun, 
 and tomahawk, or any other way you choose to 
 take me, I'm your man ! Cock-a-doodle-doo !" 
 And with that, the gentleman jumped into the air, 
 and flapped his wings, as much to the amusement 
 of the provoker of his wrath as of any other per- 
 son present. 
 
 "Come, Ralph," said the commander of the 
 Station, " whar'd' you steal that brown mar' thar?" 
 — a question whose abruptness somewhat quelled 
 the ferment of the man's fury, while it drew^ a 
 roar of laughter from the lookers-on. 
 
 " Thar it is !" said he, striking an attitude and 
 clapping a hand on his breast, like a man who felt 
 his honour unjustly assailed. " Steal! /steal any 
 horse but an Injun's ! Whar's the man dar's in- 
 sinivate that I Blood and massacree-ation ! whar's 
 the man?" 
 
 " H'yar," said Bruce, very composedly. " I know 
 that old mar' belongs to Peter Harper, on the north 
 side." 
 
 " You're right, by Hooky !" cried Roaring 
 Ralph : at which seeming admission of his knavery 
 the merriment of the spectators was greatly in- 
 creased ; nor was it much lessened w^hen the fel- 
 low proceeded to aver that he had borrowed it, 
 and that with the express stipulation that it should 
 be left at Bruce*s Station, subject to the orders of 
 its owner. " Thar, cunnel," said he, " thar's the 
 beast ; take it ; and just tell me whar's the one you 
 
58 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 mean to lend me, — for I must be oft' afore sun- 
 set." 
 
 " And whar are you going?" demanded Bruce. 
 
 " To St. Asaphs," — which was a Station some 
 twenty or thirty miles off*, — replied Captain Stack- 
 pole. 
 
 " Too far for the Regulators to follow, Ralph," 
 said Colonel Bruce ; at which the young men pre- 
 sent laughed louder than ever, and eyed the visi- 
 ter in a way that seemed both to disconcert and 
 offend him. 
 
 " Cunnel," said he, " you're a man in authority, 
 and my superior officer ; wharfo' thar' can be no 
 scalping between us. But my name's Tom Dow- 
 dle, the rag-man !" he screamed, suddenly skip- 
 ping into the thickest of the throng, and sounding 
 a note of defiance ; " my name's Tom Dowdle, 
 the rag-man, and I'm for any man that insults me ! 
 log-leg or leather-breeches, green-shirt or blanket- 
 coat, land-trottcr or river-roller, — I'm the man for 
 a massacree !" Then giving himself a twirl upon 
 his foot that would have done credit to a dancing- 
 master, he proceeded to other antic demon- 
 strations of hostility, which, when performed in 
 after years on the banks of the Lower Mississippi, 
 by himself and his worthy imitators, were, w^e 
 suspect, the cause of their receiving the name of 
 the mighty alligator. It is said, by naturalists, of 
 this monstrous reptile, that he delights, when the 
 returning warmth of spring has brought his fel- 
 lows from their holes, and placed them basking 
 along the banks of a swampy lagoon, to dart into 
 the centre of the expanse, and challenge the whole 
 field to combat. He roars, he blows the water 
 from his nostrils, he lashes it with his tail, he 
 whirls round and round, churning the water into 
 foam ; until, having worked himself into a proper 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 59 
 
 fury, he darts back again to the shore, to seek an 
 antagonist. Had the gallant captain of horse- 
 thieves boasted the blood, as he afterwards did 
 the name, of an * alligator half-breed,' he could 
 have scarce conducted himself in a way more 
 worthy of his parentage. He leaped into the 
 centre of the throng, where, having found elbow-- 
 room for his purpose, he performed the gyration 
 mentioned before, following it up by other feats 
 expressive of his hostile humour. He flapped his 
 wings and crowed, until every chanticleer in the 
 settlement replied to the note of battle; he snorted 
 and neighed hke a horse; he bellowed like a bull; 
 he barked like a dog; he yelled like an Indian; he 
 whined like a panther; he howled Hke a wolf, un- 
 til one would have thought he was a living mena- 
 gerie, comprising within his single body the spirit 
 of every animal noted for its love of conflict. 
 Then, not content with such a display of readi- 
 ness to fight the field, he darted from the centre 
 of the area allowed him for his exercise, and in- 
 vited the lookers-on individually to battle. " Whar's 
 your buffalo-bull," he cried, " to cross horns with 
 the roarer of Salt River? Whar's your full-blood 
 colt that can shake a saddle oflf? h'yar's an old 
 nag can kick off* the top of a buck-eye! Whar's 
 your cat of the Knob's? your wolf of the Rolling 
 Prairies? h'yar's the old brown b'ar can claw the 
 bark off* a gum-tree ! H'yar's a man for you, Tom 
 Bruce ! Same to you, Sim Roberts ! to you, Jimmy 
 Big-nose ! to you, and to you, and to you ! Ar'n't 
 I a ring-tailed squealer? Can go down Salt on my 
 back, and swim up the Ohio ! Whar's the man to 
 fight Roaring Ralph Stackpole?" 
 
 Now, whether it happened that there were none 
 present inclined to a contest with such a cham- 
 pion, or whether it was that the young men look- 
 
60 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 ed upon the exhibition as a mere bravado meant 
 rather to amuse them than to irritate, it so occur- 
 red that not one of them accepted the challenge ; 
 though each, when personally called on, did his 
 best to add to the roarer's fury, if fury it really 
 were, by letting oft' sundry jests in relation to 
 borrowed horses and Regulators.* That the fel- 
 low's rage was in great part assumed, Roland, 
 who was, at first, somewhat amused at his extra- 
 vagance, became soon convinced ; and growing 
 at last weary of it, he was about to signify to his 
 host his inclination to return into the fort, when 
 .the appearance of another individual on the ground 
 suddenly gave promise of new entertainment. 
 
 * It is scarce necessary to inform the reader, that by this 
 term must be understood those public-spirited citizens, amateur 
 jack-ketches, who administer Lynch-law in districts where 
 regular law is but inefficiently, or not at all, established. 
 
SICK OF THE WOODS. 61 
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 
 '' If you're ralely ripe for a fight, Roaring 
 Ralph," cried Tom Bruce the younger, who had 
 shown, like the others, a greater disposition to jest 
 than to do battle with the champion, "here comes 
 the very man for you. Look, boys, thar comes 
 Bloody Nathan !" At which formidable name 
 there was a loud shout set up, with an infinite 
 <leal of laughing and clapping of hands. 
 
 " Whar's the feller]" cried Captain Stackpole, 
 springing six feet into the air, and uttering a 
 whoop of anticipated triumph. " I've hcerd of 
 the brute, and, 'tarnal death to me, but I'm his 
 super-superior ! Show me the crittur, and let me 
 fiy ! Cock-a-doodle-doo !" 
 
 " Hurrah for Roaring Ralph Stackpole !" cried 
 the young men, some of whom proceeded to pat 
 him on the back in compliment to his courage, 
 while others ran forward to hasten the approach 
 of the expected antagonist. 
 
 The appearance of the comer, at a distance, 
 promised an equal match to the captain of horse- 
 thieves; but Roland perceived, from the increase 
 of merriment among the Kentuckians, and espe- 
 cially from his host joining heartily in it, that there 
 was more in Bloody Nathan than met the eye. 
 And yet there was enough in his appearance to 
 attract attention, and to convince the soldier that 
 if Kentucky had shown him, in Captain Stack- 
 pole, one extraordinary specimen of her inhabit- 
 ants, she had others to exhibit not a whit less 
 
 VOL. I. 6 
 
62 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 remarkable. It is on the frontiers, indeed, where 
 adventurers from every corner of the world, and 
 from every circle of society, are thrown together, 
 that we behold the strongest contrasts, and the 
 strangest varieties, of human character. 
 
 Casting his eyes down the road or street, (for it 
 was flanked by the outer cabins of the settlement, 
 and perhaps deserved the latter name,) which led, 
 among stumps and gullies, from the gate of the 
 stockade to the bottom of the hill, Forrester be- 
 held a tall man approaching, leading an old lame 
 white horse, at the heels of which followed a little 
 silky-haired black or brown dog, dragging its tail 
 betwixt its legs, in compliment to the curs of the 
 Station, w^hich seemed as hospitably inclined to 
 spread a field of battle for the submissive brute, as 
 their owners were to make ready another for its 
 master. The first thing that surprised the soldier 
 in the appearance of the person bearing so formi- 
 dable a name, was an incongruity which struck 
 others as well as himself, even the colonel of 
 militia exclaiming, as he pointed it out with his 
 finger, " It's old Nathan Slaughter, to the back- 
 bone ! Thar he comes, the brute, leading a horse 
 in his hand, and carrying his pack on his own 
 back! But he's a marciful man, old Nathan, and 
 the horse thar, old White Dobbin, war foundered 
 and good for nothing ever since the boys made a 
 race with him against Sammy Parker's jackass." 
 
 As he approached yet nighcr, Roland perceived 
 that his tall, gaunt figure w^as arrayed in garments 
 of leather from top to toe, even his cap, or hat, 
 (for such it seemed, having several broad flaps 
 suspended by strings, so as to serve the purpose of 
 a brim,) being composed of fragments of tanned 
 skins rudely sewed together. His upper garment 
 differed from a hunting-shirt only in wanting the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 63 
 
 fringes usually appended to it, and in being fashion- 
 ed without any regard to the body it encompassed, 
 so that, in looseness and shapelessness, it looked 
 more like a sack than a human vestment; and, 
 like his breeches and leggings, it bore the marks 
 of the most reverend antiquity, being covered with 
 patches and stains of all ages, sizes, and colours. 
 Thus far Bloody Nathan's appearance was not 
 inconsistent with his name, being uncommonly 
 wild and savage; and to assist in maintaining his 
 claims to the title, he had a long rifle on his shoul- 
 der, and a knife in his belt, both of which were in 
 a state of dilapidation worthy of his other equip- 
 ments; the knife, from long use and age, being 
 worn so thin that it seemed scarce worth the car- 
 rying, while the rifle boasted a stock so rude, 
 shapeless, and, as one would have judged from its 
 magnitude and weight, so unserviceable, that it 
 was easy to believe it had been constructed by the 
 unskilful hands of Nathan himself Such, then, was 
 the appearance of the man who seemed so pro- 
 perly to be called the Bloody: but when Roland 
 came to survey him a little more closely, he could 
 not avoid suspecting that the sobriquet, instead of 
 being given to indicate w^arlike and dangerous 
 traits of character, had been bestowed out of pure 
 wantonness and derision. His visage, seeming to 
 belong to a man of at least forty-five or fifty years 
 of age, w^as hollow, and almost as weather-worn 
 as his apparel, with a long hooked nose, promi- 
 nent chin, a wide mouth exceedingly straight and 
 pinched, with a melancholy or contemplative 
 twist at the corners, and a pair of black staring 
 eyes that beamed a good-natured, humble, and 
 perhaps submissive, simplicity of disposition. His 
 gait, too, as he stumbled along up the hill, with a 
 shufl^ing, awkward, hesitating step, was more Hke 
 
64 KICK OF THE \V00D5, 
 
 that of a man who apprehended injury and insiilf, 
 than of one who possessed the spirit to resist them. 
 The fact, moreover, of his sustaining on his ovvii 
 shoulders a heavy pack of deer and other skins. 
 to reheve the miserable horse which he led, be- 
 tokened a merciful temper, scarce compatible with 
 the qualities of a man of war and contention. 
 Another test and criterion by which Roland judged 
 his claims to the character of a roarer, he found 
 in the little black dog; for the Virginian was a 
 devout believer, as we are ourselves, in that max- 
 im of practical philosophers, — namely, that by the 
 dog you shall know the master, the one being 
 fierce, magnanimous, and cowardly, just as his 
 master is a bully, a gentleman, or a dastard. The 
 little dog of Bloody Nathan was evidently a cow- 
 ard, creeping along at white Dobbin's heels, and 
 seeming to supplicate with his tail, which now 
 draggled in the mud, and now attempted a timid 
 wag, that his fellow-curs of the Station should not 
 be rude and inhospitable to a peaceable stranger. 
 
 On the whole, the appearance of the man was 
 any thing in the world but that of the bulky and 
 ferocious ruffian whom the nickname had led Ro- 
 land to anticipate; and he scarce knew whether 
 to pity him, or to join in the laugh with which tlie 
 young men of the settlement greeted his approaciu 
 Perhaps his sense of the ridiculous would have 
 disposed the young soldier to merriment; but the 
 wistful look, with which, while advancing^ Nathan 
 seemed to deprecate the insults he evidently ex- 
 pected, spoke volumes of reproach to his spirit, 
 and the half-formed smile faded from his counte- 
 nance. 
 
 "Thar '."^ exclaimed Tom Bruce, slapping Stack- 
 pole on the shoulder, with great glee, " thar's the 
 man that calls himself Dannger! At him, for the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 65 
 
 honour of Salt River; but take care of his fore- 
 legs, for, I tell you, he's the Pennsylvany war- 
 horse!" 
 
 " And ar'n't I the ramping tiger of the Rolling 
 Fork?" cried Captain Ralph; "and can't I eat 
 him, hoss, dog, dirty jacket, and all? Hold me by 
 the tail, while I devour him!" 
 
 With that, he executed two or three escapades, 
 demivoltes, curvets, and other antics of a truly 
 equine character, and galloping up to the amazed 
 Nathan, saluted him with a neigh so shrill and 
 hostile that even White Dobbin pricked up his 
 ears, and betrayed other symptoms of alarm. 
 
 " Surely, Colonel," said Roland, " you will not 
 allow that mad ruffian to assail the poor man?" 
 
 " Oh," said Bruce, " Ralph won't hurt him ; he's 
 never ambitious, except among Injuns and horses. 
 He's only for skearing the old feller." 
 
 " And who !" said Forrester, " may the old fel- 
 low be? and why do you call him Bloodv Na- 
 than?" 
 
 • " We call him Bloody Nathan," replied the 
 commander, "because he's the only man in all 
 Kentucky, that won't fght! and thar's the way he 
 beats us all hollow. Lord, Captain, you'd hardly 
 believe it, but he's nothing more than a poor 
 Pennsylvany Quaker ; and what brought him out 
 to Kentucky, whar thar's nar another creatur' of 
 his tribe, thar's no knowing. Some say he war 
 dishonest, and so had to cut loose from Pennsyl- 
 vany; but I never heerd of his steahng any thing 
 in Kentucky: I reckon thar's too much of the 
 chicken about him for that. Some say he is 
 hunting rich lands; which war like enough for 
 any body that war not so poor and lazy. And 
 some say his wits are unsettled, and I hold that 
 that's the truth of the creatur'; for he does no- 
 6# 
 
66 NICK OF THE -WOODS. 
 
 thing but go wandering up and down the country, 
 now h'yar and now thar, hunting for meat and 
 skins; and that's pretty much the way he makes a 
 living; and once I see'd the creatur' have a fit, — 
 a right up-and-down touch of the falHng-sickness, 
 with Jiis mouth all of a foam. Thar's them that's 
 good-natur'd, that calls iiim Wandering Nathan, 
 because of his being h'yar, and thar, and every 
 whar. He don't seem much afear'd of the In- 
 juns; but, they say, the red brutes never disturbs 
 the Pennsylvany Quakers. Howsomever, he 
 makes himself useful; for sometimes he finds In- 
 jun sign w^har thar's no Injuns thought of, and so 
 he gives information ; but he always does it, as he 
 says, to save bloodshed, not to bring on a fight. 
 He comes to me once, thar's more than three 
 years ago, and instead of saying ' Gunnel, thar's 
 twenty Injuns lying on the road at the lower ford 
 of Salt, whar you may nab them;' says he, says 
 he, ' Friend Thomas, thee must keep the people 
 from going nigh the ford, for thar's Injuns thar 
 that will hurt them ;' and then he takes himself off; 
 whilst I rides down thar with twenty-five men 
 and exterminates them, killing six, and driving 
 the others the Lord knows whar. He has had but 
 a hard time of it among us, poor creatur'; for it 
 used to make us w^rathy to find thar w^ar so little 
 fight in him, that he would'nt so much as kill a 
 murdering Injun. I took his gun from him once; 
 for why, he wouldn't attend muster, when I had 
 enrolled him. But I pitied the brute; for he war 
 poor, and thar war but little corn in his cabin, 
 and nothing to shoot meat with ; and so I gave it 
 back, and told him to take his own ways for an 
 old fool." 
 
 While Colonel Bruce was thus delineating the 
 character of Nathan Slaughter, the latter found 
 
MCK OF THE WOODS. 6t 
 
 himself surrounded by the young men of the Sta- 
 tion, the butt of a thousand jests, and the victim of 
 the insolence of the captain of horse-thieves. It 
 is not to be supposed that Roaring Ralph was 
 really the bully and madman that his extravagant 
 freaks and expressions seemed to proclaim him. 
 These, like any other ' actions that a man might 
 play,' were assumed, partly because it suited his 
 humour to be fantastic, and partly because the 
 putting of his antic disposition on, was the only 
 means which he, like many of his betters, pos- 
 sessed of attracting attention, and avoiding the 
 neglect and contempt to which his low habits and 
 appearance would have otherwise justly consigned 
 him. There was, therefore, little really hostile in 
 the feelings with which he approached the non- 
 combatant ; though it was more than probable, 
 the disgust he, in common with the other warlike 
 personages, entertained toward the peaceable Na- 
 than, might have rendered him a little more ma- 
 licious than usual. 
 
 " Bloody Nathan !" said he, as soon as he had 
 concluded his neighing and curvetting, " if you 
 ever said your prayers, now's the time. Down 
 with your pack, — for I can't stand deer's ha'r 
 sticking in my swallow, no how !" 
 
 " Friend," said Blooody Nathan, meekly, " I beg 
 thee will not disturb me. I am a man of peace 
 and quiet." 
 
 And so saying, he endeavoured to pass onwards, 
 but was prevented by Ralph, who seizing his 
 heavy bundle with one hand, applied his right foot 
 to it with a dexterity that not only removed it from 
 the poor man's back, but sent the dried skins scat- 
 tering over the road. This feat was rewarded by 
 the spectators with loud shouts, all which, as well 
 
68 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 as the insult itself, Nathan bore with exemplary 
 patience. 
 
 " Friend," he said, "what does thee seek of me, 
 that thee treats me thus?" 
 
 " A fight !" replied Captain Stackpole, uttering 
 a war-whoop; "a fight, strannger, for the love of 
 heaven !" 
 
 " Thee seeks it of the wrong person," said Na- 
 than ; " and I beg thee will get thee away." 
 
 "What!" said Stackpole, " ar'nt thee the Penn- 
 sylvanny war-horse, the screamer of the meeting- 
 house, the bloody-mouthed b'ar of Yea-Nay-and- 
 Verily ?" 
 
 " I am a man of peace," said the submissive 
 Slaughter. 
 
 " Yea verily, verily and yea !" cried Ralph, snuf- 
 fling through the nostrils, but assuming an air of 
 extreme indignation ; " Strannger, I've heerd of 
 you ! You're the man that holds it agin duty and 
 conscience to kill Injuns, the red-skin screamers, — 
 that refuses to defend the women, the splendifer- 
 ous creatur's! and the little children, the squall-a- 
 baby d'ars ! And wharfo' ? Bec'ause as how you're 
 a man of peace and no fight, you superiferous, 
 long-legged, no-souled, crittur ! But I'm the gen- 
 tleman to make a man of you. So down with 
 your gun, and 'tarnal death to me, I'll whip the 
 cowardly devil out of you." 
 
 " Friend," said Nathan, his humility yielding to 
 a feeling of contempt, " thee is theeself a cow- 
 ardly person, or thee w^ould n't seek a quarrel 
 with one, thee know^s, can't fight thee. Thee would 
 not be so ready with thee match." 
 
 With that, he stooped to gather up his skins, a 
 proceeding that Stackpole, against whom the 
 laugh was turned by this sally of Nathan's, re- 
 sisted by catching him by the nape of the neck, 
 
IVICK OF THE WOODS. 69 
 
 twirling him round, and making as if he really 
 would have beaten him. 
 
 Even this the peaceful Nathan bore without 
 anger or murmuring; but his patience fled, when 
 Stackpole, turning to the little dog, which by 
 bristling its back and growling, expressed a half 
 inclination to take up its master's quarrel, applied 
 his foot to its ribs with a violence that sent it 
 roUing some five or six yards down the hill, w' here 
 it lay for a time yelping and whining with pain. 
 
 " Friend !" said Nathan, sternly, " thee is but a 
 dog theeself, to harm the creature ! What will 
 thee have with me ?' 
 
 " A fight ! a fight, I tell thee !" replied Captain 
 Ralph, '' till I teach thy leatherified conscience 
 the new doctrines of Kentucky." 
 
 " Fight thee I cannot and dare not," said Na- 
 than; and then added, much to the surprise of 
 Forrester, who, sharing his indignation at the 
 brutality of his tormentor, had approached to 
 drive the fellow off, — " But if thee must have 
 thee deserts, thee shall have them. — Thee prides 
 theeself upon thee courage and strength — will thee 
 adventure with me a friendly faJl ?" 
 
 " Hurrah for Bloody Nathan !" cried the young 
 men, vastly delighted at his unwonted spirit, while 
 Captain Ralph himself expressed his pleasure, by 
 leaping into the air, crowing, and dashing off* his 
 hat, which he kicked down the hill with as much 
 good will as he had previously bestowed upon the 
 little dog. 
 
 " Otf with your leather night-cap, and down 
 with your rifle," he cried, giving his ov/n weapon 
 into the hands of a looker-on, " and scrape some 
 of the grease off" your jacket ; for, 'tarnal death 
 to me, I shall give you the Virginny lock, fling 
 you head-fo'most, and you'll find yourself, in a 
 
70 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 twinkling, sticking fast right in the centre of the 
 'arth !" 
 
 " Thee may find theeself mistaken," said Na- 
 than, giving up his gun to one of the young men, 
 but instead of rejecting his hat, pulling it down 
 tight over his brows. "There is locks taught 
 among the mountains of Bedford that may be as 
 good as them learned on the hills of Virginia. — I 
 am ready for thee." 
 
 " Cock-a-doodle-doo !" cried Ralph Stackpole, 
 springing tow^ards bis man, and clapping his 
 hands, one on Nathan's left shoulder, the other on 
 his right hip : " Are you ready ?" 
 
 " I am," replied Nathan. 
 
 " Down then, you go, w^ar you a buflfalo !*' 
 And with that the captain of horse-thieves put 
 forth his strength, which was very great, in an 
 effort that appeared to Roland quite irresistible ; 
 though, as it happened, it scarce moved Nathan 
 from his position. 
 
 " Thee is mistaken, friend !" he cried, exerting 
 his strength in return, and with an eflfect that i]p 
 one had anticipated. By magic, as it seemed, the 
 heels of the captain of horse-thieves were sud- 
 denly seen flying in the air, his head aiming at 
 the earth, upon which it as suddenly descended 
 with the violence of a bomb-shell; and there it 
 would doubtless have burrowed, like the afore- 
 said implement of destruction, had the soil been 
 soft enough for the purpose, or exploded into a 
 thousand fragments, had not the shell been double 
 the thickness of an ordinary skull. 
 
 " Huzza ! Bloody Nathan for ever !" shouted 
 the delighted villagers. 
 
 "He has killed the man," said Forrester; "but 
 bear witness, all, the fellow provoked his fate." 
 
 " Thanks to you, strannger ! but not so dead as 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 71 
 
 you reckon," said Ralph, rising to his feet, and 
 scratching his poll, with a stare of comical con- 
 fusion. " I say, strannger, here's my shoulders, — 
 but whar's my head ? — Do you reckon I had the 
 worst of it t" 
 
 " Huzza for Bloody Nathan Slaughter ! He has 
 w^hipped the ramping tiger of Salt River ;" cried 
 the young men of the station. 
 
 " Well, I reckon he has," said the magnanimous 
 Captain Ralph, picking up his hat : then walking 
 up to Nathan, who had taken his dog into his 
 arms, to examine into the little animal's hurts, he 
 cried, with much good-humoured energy, — " Thar's 
 my fo'-paw, in token I've had enough of you, and 
 want no mo'. But I say, Nathan Slaughter," he 
 added, as he grasped the victor's hand, " it's no 
 thing you can boast of, to be the strongest man in 
 Kentucky, and the most sevagarous at a tussel, — 
 h'yar among murdering Injuns and scalping run- 
 negades, and keep your fists off their top-knots. 
 Thar's my idear : for I go for the doctrine, that 
 every able-bodied man should sarve his country 
 and his neighbours, and fight their foes ; and them 
 that does is men and gentlemen, and them that 
 don't is cowards and rascals, that's my idear. 
 And so, fawwell." 
 
 Then, executing another demivolte or two, but 
 with much less spirit than he had previously dis- 
 played, he returned to Colonel Bruce, saying, 
 "Whar's that horse you promised me, cunnel? 
 I'm a licked man, and I can't stay here no longer, 
 no way no how. Lend me a boss, cunnel, and 
 trust to my honour." 
 
 "You shall have a beast," said Bruce, coolly; 
 " but as to trusting your honour, I shall do no such 
 thing, having something much better to rely on. 
 Tom will show you a horse ; and, remember, you 
 
72 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 are to leave him at Logan's. If you carry him a 
 step further, captain, you'll never carry another. 
 Judge Lynch is looking at you ; and so bewar'." 
 
 Having uttered this hint, he left the captain of 
 horse-thieves to digest it as he might, and stepped 
 up to Nathan, who had seated himself on a stump, 
 where, with his skins at his side, his little dog and 
 his rifle betwixt liis legs, he sat enduring a thou- 
 sand sarcastic encomiums on his strength and 
 spirit, with as many sharp denunciations of the 
 peaceful principles that robbed the community of 
 the services he had shown himself so well able to 
 render. The doctrine, so eloquently avowed by 
 Captain Ralph, that it was incumbent upon every 
 able-bodied man to fight the enemies of their little 
 state, the murderers of their wives and children, 
 was a canon of belief imprinted on the heart of 
 every man in the district; and Nathan's failure to 
 do so, however caused by his conscientious aver- 
 sion to bloodshed, no more excused him from con- 
 tempt and persecution in the wilderness, than it 
 did others of his persuasion in the Eastern repub- 
 lics, during the war of the revolution. Ilis ap- 
 pearance, accordingly, at any Station, was usually 
 the signal for reproach and abuse ; the fear of 
 which had driven him almost altogether from the 
 society of his fellow-men, so that he was seldom 
 seen among them, except when impelled by ne- 
 cessity, or when his wanderings in the woods had 
 acquainted him with the proximity of the foes of 
 his persecutors. His victory over the captain of 
 horse-thieves exposed him, on this occasion, to 
 ruder and angrier remonstrances than usual ; 
 which having sought in vain to avert, he sat down 
 in despair, enduring all in silence, staring from 
 one to another of his tormentors with lack-lustre 
 eyes, and playing with the silken hair of his dog. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 7^ 
 
 The approach of the captain of the Station pro- 
 cured him an interval of peace, which he, how- 
 ever, employed only to communicate his troubles 
 to the little cur, that, in his perplexity, he ad- 
 dressed pretty much as he would have addressed a 
 human friend and adviser: "Well, Peter," said 
 he, abstractedly, and with a heavy sigh, " what 
 does thee think of matters and things?' To which 
 question, the ridiculousness of which somewhat 
 mollified the anger of the young men, Peter re- 
 plied by rubbing his nose against his master's 
 hand, and by walking a step or two down the hill, 
 as if advising an instant retreat from the inhospi- 
 table Station. 
 
 " Ay, Peter," muttered Nathan, " the sooner we 
 go the better; for there are none that makes us 
 welcome. But nevertheless, Peter, we must have 
 our lead and our powder; and we must tell these 
 poor people the news." 
 
 "And pray, Nathan," said Colonel Bruce, rous- 
 ing him from his meditations, " what may your 
 news for the poor people be ? I reckon it will be 
 much wiser to tell it to me than that 'ar brute 
 dog. You have seen the Jibbenainosay, perhaps, 
 or his mark thar-away on the Kentucky ?" 
 
 " Nay," said Nathan. " But there is news from 
 the Injun towns of a great gathering of Injuns 
 with their men of w^ar in the Miami villages, who 
 design, the evil creatures, marching into the dis- 
 trict of Kentucky with a greater army than was 
 ever seen in the land before." 
 
 " Let them come, the brutes," said the Ken- 
 tuckian, w^ith a laugh of scorn; "it will save us 
 the trouble of hunting them up in their own 
 towns." 
 
 " Nay," said Nathan : " but perhaps they have 
 come ; for the prisoner who escaped, and who is 
 
 VOL. I. — 7 
 
74 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 bearing the news to friend Clark, the General at 
 the Falls, says they were to march two days after 
 he fled from them." 
 
 '^ And whar did you learn this precious news V 
 
 " At the lower ford of Kentucky, and from the 
 man himself," said Nathan. " He had warned the 
 settlers at Lexington — " 
 
 '• That's piper's news," interrupted one of the 
 young men. "Captain Ralph told us all about 
 that ; but he said thar war nobody at Lexington 
 believed the story." 
 
 " Then," said Nathan, meekly, " it may be that 
 the man was mistaken. Yet persons should have 
 a care, for there is Injun sign all along the Ken- 
 tucky. But that is my story. And now, friend 
 Thomas, if thee will give me lead and pow^der for 
 my skins, I will be gone, and trouble thee no 
 longer." 
 
 " It's a sin and a shame to waste them on a 
 man who only employs them to kill deer, b'ar, 
 and turkey," said Bruce ; " yet a man must n't 
 starve, even whar he's a quaker. So go you 
 along with my son Dick thar, to the store, and 
 he'll give you the value of your plunder. — A poor, 
 miserable brute, thar's no denying," he continued, 
 contemptuously, as Nathan, obeying the direction, 
 followed Bruce's second son into the fortress. 
 " The man has some spirit now and then ; but 
 whar's the use of it, while he's nothing but a no- 
 fight quaker? I tried to reason him out of his 
 notions ; but thar war no use in trying, no how I 
 could work it. I have an idea about these qua- 
 kers " 
 
 But here, luckily, the worthy Colonel's idea was 
 suddenly put to flight by the appearance of Telie 
 Doe, who came stealing through the throng, to 
 summon him to his evening meal, — a call which 
 
MCK OF THE WOODS. 75 
 
 neither he nor his guest was indisposed to obey ; 
 and taking Tehe by the hand in a paternal man- 
 ner, he ushered the young soldier back into the 
 fort 
 
 The girl, Roland observed, had changed her 
 attire at the bidding of her protector, and now, 
 though dressed with the greatest simplicity, ap- 
 peared to more advantage than before. He 
 thought her, indeed, quite handsome, and pitying 
 her more than orphan condition, he endeavoured 
 to- show her such kindness as was in his power, 
 by addressing to her some complimentary re- 
 marks, as he walked along at her side. His 
 words, however, only revived the terror she seem- 
 ed really to experience, whenever any one ac- 
 costed her ; seeing which, he desisted, doubting if 
 she deserved the compliment the benevolent Bruce 
 had so recently paid to her good sense* 
 
76 NICK OF THE W00D5, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The evening meal being concluded, and a few 
 brief moments devoted to conversation with her 
 new friends, Edith was glad, when, at a hint from 
 her kinsman as to the early hour appointed for 
 setting out on the morrow, she was permitted to 
 seek the rest of w'hich she stood in need. Her 
 chamber — and, by a rare exercise of hospitality, 
 the merit of which she appreciated, since she w^as 
 sensible it could not have been made without sa- 
 crifice, she occupied it alone — boasted few of the 
 luxuries, few even of the comforts, to which she 
 had been accustomed in her native land, and her 
 father's house. But misfortune had taught her 
 spirit humility ; and the recollection of nights 
 passed in the desert, with only a thin mattress be- 
 twixt her and the naked earth, and a little tent- 
 cloth and the boughs of trees to protect her from 
 inclement skies, caused her to regard her present 
 retreat with such feelings of satisfaction as she 
 might have indulged if in the chamber of a 
 palace. 
 
 She was followed to the apartment by a bevy of 
 the fair Bruces, all solicitous to render her such 
 assistance as they could, and all, perhaps, equally 
 anxious to indulge their admiration, for the second 
 or third time, over the slender store of finery, 
 which Edith good-naturedly opened to their in- 
 spection. In this way the time fled amain until 
 Mrs. Bruce, more considerate than her daughters. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 77 
 
 and somewhat scandalized by the loud commen- 
 dations which they passed on sundry articles of 
 dress such as were never before seen in Ken- 
 tucky, rushed into the chamber, and drove them 
 manfully away. 
 
 " Poor, ignorant critturs !" said she, by way of 
 apology, " they know^s no better : thar's the mis- 
 chief of being raised in the back-woods. They'll 
 never I'arn to be genteel, thar's so many common 
 persons comes out here with their daughters. I'm 
 sure, I do my best to I'arn 'ern." 
 
 With these words she tendered her own good 
 offices to Edith, which the young lady declining 
 with many thanks, she bade her good night, and, 
 to Edith's great relief, left her to herself A. few 
 moments then sufficed to complete her prepara- 
 tions for slumber, which being effected, she threw 
 herself on her knees, to implore the further favour 
 of the orphan's Friend, who had conducted her 
 so far in safety on her journey. 
 
 Whilst thus engaged, her mind absorbed in the 
 solemn duty, she failed to note that another visiter 
 had softly stolen into the apartment ; and accord- 
 ingly, when she rose from her devotions, and be- 
 held a female figure standing in the distance, 
 though regarding her with both reverence and 
 timidity, she could not suppress an exclamation of 
 alarm. 
 
 " Do not be afraid, — it is only Telie Doe," said 
 the visiter with a low and trembling voice : " I 
 thought you would want some one to — to take the 
 candle." 
 
 " You are very good," replied Edith, who, hav- 
 ing scarcely before observed the humble and re- 
 tiring maid, and supposing her to be one of her 
 host's children, had little doubt she had stolen in 
 to indulge her curiosity Hke the others, although at 
 7* 
 
78 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 SO Jate a moment, as to authorize a little cruelty 
 on the part of the guest. " I am very tired and 
 sleepy," she said, creeping into bed, hoping that 
 the confession would be understood and accepted 
 as an apology. She then, seeing that Telie did 
 not act upon the hint, intimated that she had no 
 further occasion for the light, and bade her good- 
 night. But Telie, instead of departing, maintain- 
 ed her stand at the little rude table, where, besides 
 the candle, were several articles of apparel that 
 Edith had laid out in readiness for the morning, 
 and upon which she thought the girl's eyes were 
 fixed. 
 
 " If you had come a little earlier," said Edith, 
 with unfailing good-nature, " I should have been 
 glad to show you any thing I have. But now^, in- 
 deed, it is too late, and all mv packages are made 
 up " 
 
 " It is not ^//«/," interrupted the maiden hastily, 
 but with trepidation. " No, I did not want to trou- 
 ble you. But " 
 
 "But what?" demanded Edith, with surprise, 
 yet with kindness, for she observed the agitation 
 of the speaker. 
 
 "Lady," said Telie, mustering resolution, and 
 stepping to the bed-side, " if you will not be angry 
 with me, I would, — I would " 
 
 " You would ask a favour, perhaps ?" said 
 Edith, encouraging her with a smile. 
 
 " Yes, that is it," replied the girl, dropping on 
 her knees, not so much, however, as it appeared, 
 from abasement of spirit, as to bring her lips 
 nearer to Edith's ear, that she might speak in a 
 low^er voice. "I know, from w^hat they say, you 
 are a great lady, and that you once had many 
 people to wait upon you ; and now you are in the 
 wild woods, among strangers, and none about you 
 
- NICK OF THE WOODS. 79 
 
 but men." Edith replied with a sigh, and Tehe, 
 timorously grasping at the hand lying nearest her 
 own, murmured eagerly, " If you would but take 
 me with you, I am used to the w^oods, and I would 
 be your servant." 
 
 " Your exclaimed Edith, her surprise getting 
 the better of her sadness. " Your mother would 
 surely never consent to your being a servant ?" 
 
 " My mother ?" muttered Telie, — " I have no 
 mother, — no relations." 
 
 " What ! Mr. Bruce is not then your father V 
 
 " No, — I have no father. Yes, — that is, I have 
 a father; but he has, — he has turned Indian."- 
 
 These w^ords were w^hispered rather than spo- 
 ken, yet whispered with a tone of grief and shame 
 that touched Edith's feelings. Her pity was ex- 
 pressed in her countenance, and Telie, reading the 
 gentle sympathy infused into every lovely fea- 
 ture, bent over the hand she had clasped, and 
 touched it with her lips. 
 
 " I have told you the truth," she said, mourn- 
 fully : " one like me should not be ashamed to be a 
 servant. And so, lad3% if you will take me, I will 
 go with you and serve you ; and poor and igno- 
 rant as I am, I can serve you, — yes, ma'am," she 
 added, eagerly, " I can serve you more and better 
 than you think, — indeed, indeed I can." 
 
 "Alas, poor child," said Edith, "I am one who 
 must learn to do without attendance and service. 
 I have no home to give you." 
 
 " I have heard it all," said Telie ; " but I can 
 live in the woods with you, till you have a house ; 
 and then I can work for you, and you'll never re- 
 pent taking me, — no, indeed, for I know all that's 
 to be done by a woman in a new land, and you 
 don't ; and indeed, if you have none to help you, 
 it would kill you, it would indeed : for it is a hard, 
 
80 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 hard time in the woods for a woman that has been 
 brought up tenderly." 
 
 " Alas, child," said Edith, perhaps a little pet- 
 tishly, for she liked not to dwell upon such gloomy 
 anticipations, " why should you be discontented 
 with the home you have already? Surely, there 
 are none here unkind to you ?" 
 
 " No," replied the maiden, " they are very good 
 to me, and Mr. Bruce has been a father to me. 
 But then I am not his child, and it is wrong of me 
 to live upon him, who has so many children of his 
 own. And then my father — all talk of my father; 
 all the people here hate him, though he has never 
 done them harm, and I know, — yes, I know it well 
 enough, though they won't believe it, — that he 
 keeps the Indians from hurting them; but they 
 hate him and curse him ; and, oh, I wish I was 
 away, where I should never hear them speak of 
 him more. Perhaps they don't know any thing 
 about him at the Falls, and then there will be 
 nobody to call me the w'hite Indian's daughter." 
 
 " And does Mr. Bruce, or his wife, know^ of 
 your desire to leave him ?" 
 
 " No," said Telle, her terrors reviving ; " but if 
 you should ask them for me, then they w^ould 
 agree to let me go. He told the Captain, — that's 
 Captain Forrester, — he would do any thing for 
 him ; and indeed he would, for he is a good man, 
 and he will do what he says." 
 
 "How strange, how improper, nay, how un- 
 grateful then, if he be a good man," said Edith, 
 " that you should wish to leave him and his kind 
 family, to live among persons entirely unknown. 
 Be content, my poor maid. You have little save 
 imaginary evils to afflict you. You are happier 
 here than you can be among strangers." . 
 
 Telie clasped her hands in despair; "I shall 
 
NICK or THE WOODS. 81 
 
 never be happy here, nor any where. But take 
 me," she added eagerly, " take me for your own 
 sake ; — for it will be good for you to have me 
 with you in the woods, it will, indeed it will." 
 
 " It cannot be," said Edith, gently. But the 
 maiden would scarce take a refusal. Her terrors 
 had been dissipated by her having ventured so far 
 on speech, and she now^ pursued her object with 
 an imploring and passionate earnestness that both 
 surprised and embarrassed Edith, wdiile it in- 
 creased her sympathy for the poor bereaved 
 pleader. She endeavoured to convince her, if not 
 of the utter folly of her desires, at least of the im- 
 possibihty there was on her part of granting them. 
 She succeeded, however, in producing conviction 
 only on one point: Telle perceived that her suit 
 was not to be granted : of which as soon as she 
 was satisfied, she left off entreaty; and rose to her 
 feet with a saddened and humbled visage, and 
 then taking up the candle, she left the fair stranger 
 to her repose. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Roland also was preparing 
 for slumber; and finding, as indeed he could not 
 avoid seeing, that the hospitality of his host had 
 placed the males of the family under the necessity 
 of taking their rest in the open air on the porch, 
 he insisted upon passing the night in the same 
 place in their company. In fact, the original ha- 
 bitation of the back-woodsman seldom boasted 
 more than two rooms in all, and these none of the 
 largest; and when emigrants arrived at a Station, 
 there was little attempt made to find shelter for 
 any save their women and children, to whom the 
 men of the settlement readily gave up their own 
 quarters, to share those of their male visiters un- 
 der the blanket-tents which were spread before 
 the doors. This, to men who had thus passed the 
 
82 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 nights for several weeks in succession, was any 
 thing but hardship; and when the weather was 
 w^arm and dry, they could congratulate them- 
 selves on sleeping in greater comfort than their 
 sheltered companions. Of this Forrester was well 
 aware, and he took an early period to communi- 
 cate his resolution of rejecting the unmanly luxury 
 of a bed, and sleeping like a soldier, wrapped in 
 his cloak, with his saddle for a pillow. In this 
 way, the night proving unexpectedly sultry, he 
 succeeded in enjoying more delightful and refresh- 
 ing slumbers than blessed his kinswoman in her 
 bed of down. The song of the katydid and the 
 cry of the whippoorwill came more sweetly to his 
 ears from the adjacent woods; and the breeze that 
 had stirred a thousand leagues of forest in its 
 flight, whispered over his cheek with a more en- 
 chanting music than it made among the chinks 
 and crannies of the wall by Edith's bed-side. A 
 few idle dreams, — recollections of home, mingled 
 with the anticipated scenes of the future, the deep 
 forest, the w^ild beast, and the lurking Indian, — 
 amused, w^ithout harassing, his sleeping mind; 
 and it was not until the first gray of dawn that he 
 experienced any interruption. He started up sud- 
 denly, his ears still tingling with the soft tones of 
 an unknown voice, which had whispered in them, 
 " Cross the river by the Lower Ford, — there is 
 danger at the Upper." — He stared around, but 
 saw nothing; all was silent around him, save the 
 deep breathing of the sleepers at his side. " Who 
 spoke?" he demanded in a whisper, but received 
 no reply. " River, — Upper and Lower Ford ; — 
 danger? — " he muttered: "now I would have 
 sworn some one spoke to me: and yet I must 
 have dreamed it. Strange things, dreams, — 
 thoughts iu freedom, loosed from the chains of as» 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. ' 83 
 
 sociation, — temporary mad-fits undoubtedly: mar- 
 vellous impressions they produce on the organs of 
 sense; see, hear, smell, taste, touch, more exqui- 
 sitely without the organs than with them — What's 
 the use of organs? There's the poser — I think, — 
 I — " but here he ceased thinking altogether, his 
 philosophy having served the purpose such philo- 
 sophy usually does, and wrapped him a second 
 time in the arms of Morpheus. He opened his 
 eyes almost immediately, as he thought; but his 
 morning nap had lasted half an hour; the dawn 
 was already purple and violet in the sky, his com- 
 panions had left his side, and the hum of voices 
 and the sound of footsteps in and around the Sta- 
 tion, told him that his fellow exiles were already 
 preparing to resume their journey. 
 
 " A brave morrow to you, captain !" said the 
 commander of the fortress, the thunder of whose 
 footsteps, as he approached the house Xvith un- 
 commonly fierce strides, had perhaps broken his 
 slumbers. A frown was on his brow, and the 
 grasp of his hand, in which every finger seemed 
 doing the duty of a boa-constrictor, spoke of a 
 spirit up in arms, and wrestling with passion. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" asked Roland. 
 
 ''Matter that consarns you and me more than 
 any other two persons in the etarnal world !" said 
 Bruce, with such energy of utterance as nothing 
 but rage could supply. " Thar has been a black wolf 
 in the pin-fold, — alias, as they used to say at the 
 court-house, Captain Ralph Stackpole; and the 
 end of it is, war I never to tell another truth in my 
 life, that your blooded brown horse has absquotu- 
 lated !" 
 
 " Absquotulated /" echoed Forrester, amazed as 
 much at the word as at the fierce visage of his 
 friend, — "what is that? Is the horse hurt?" 
 
84 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 " Stolen away, sir, by the etarnal Old Scratch ! 
 Carried otrby Roaring Ralph Stackpole, while I, 
 like a brnte, w'ar sound a-sleeping ! And h'yar's 
 the knavery of the thing, sir ! the unpronounce- 
 able rascality, sir ! — I loaned the brute one of my 
 own crittur's, just to be rid of him, and have him 
 out of harm's way; for I had a forewarning, the 
 brute, that his mouth w^ar a-w^atering after the new 
 beasts in the pin-fold, and after the brown horse in 
 partickelar! And sol loaned him a horse, and 
 sent him off to Logan's. Well, sir, and what does 
 the brute do but ride off, for a make-believe, to set 
 us easy ; for he knew, the brute, if he war in sight 
 of us, we should have had guards over the cattle 
 all night long ; well, sir, down he sot in ambush, 
 till all war quiet; and then he stole back, and turn- 
 ing my own horse among the others, as if to say, 
 ' Thar's the beast that I borrowed,' — it war a won- 
 der the brute war so honest ! — picked the best of the 
 gathering, your blooded brown horse, sir! and all 
 the while, I war sleeping like a brute, and leaving 
 the guest in my own house to be robbed by Cap- 
 tain Ralph Stackpole, the villian !" 
 
 " If it be possible to follow the rascal," said Ro- 
 land, giving way to wrath himself, " T must do so, 
 and without a moment's delay. I would to hea- 
 ven I had known this earlier." 
 
 " Whar war the use," said Bruce; "whar war 
 the use of disturbing a tired man in his nap, and 
 he a guest of mine too ?' 
 
 " The advantage would have been," said Ro- 
 land, a little testily, " that the pursuit could have 
 been instantly begun." 
 
 '' And war it 7iot V said the colonel. " Thar 
 war not two minutes lost after the horse war miss- 
 ing, afore my son Tom and a dozen more of the 
 best woodsmen war mounted on the fleetest horses 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 85 
 
 m the settlement, and galloping after, right on the 
 brute's trail." 
 
 "Thanks, my friend," said Roland, with a CQr- 
 "dial grasp of hand. " The horse will be reco- 
 vered ?" 
 
 " Thar's no denying it," said Bruce, " if a fresh 
 leg can outrun a weary one: and besides, the brute 
 war not content with the best horse, but he must 
 have the second best too, that's Major Smalleye's 
 Iw^o-y'ar-old pony. He has an eye for a horse, 
 the etarnal skirmudgeon ! but the pony will be the 
 death of him ; for he's skeary, and will keep 
 Ralph slow in the path. No, sir ; w^e'll have your 
 brown horse before you can say Jack Robinson. 
 But the intolerability of the thing, sir, is that 
 Ralph Stackpole should steal my guest's horse, 
 sir ! But it's the end of his thieving, the brute, or 
 thar's no snakes ! I told him Lynch war out, the 
 brute, and I told the boys to take car' I war not 
 found lying ; and I reckon they won't forget me ! 
 I like the crittur, thar's no denying, for he's a 
 screamer among Injuns ; but thar's no standing a 
 horse-thief! no, sir, thar's no standing a horse- 
 thief!" 
 
 The only evil consequence of this accident 
 which was apprehended, was that the march of 
 the exiles must be delayed until the soldier's horse 
 was recovered, or Roland himself left behind 
 until the animal was brought in^ unless, indeed, 
 he chose to accept another freely offered him by 
 his gallant host, and trust to having his own 
 charger restored on some future occasion. He 
 w^as himself unwilling that the progress of more 
 than a hundred human beings towards the long 
 sighed for land of promise should be delayed a 
 moment on his account ; and for this reason he 
 exhorted his nominal superior to hasten the pre- 
 
 VOL. I. — 8 
 
86 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 parations for departure, without thinking of him. 
 His first resolution in relation to his own course, 
 was to proceed with the company, leaving his 
 horse to be sent after him, when recovered. He 
 was loath, however, to leave the highly-prized and 
 long-tried charger behind; and Colonel Bruce 
 taking advantage of the feeling, and representing 
 the openness and safety of the road, the shortness 
 of the day's journey, (for the next Station at 
 which the exiles intended lodging was scarce 
 twenty miles distant,) and above all, promising, 
 if he remained, to escort him thither with a band 
 of his young men, to whom the excursion would 
 be but an agreeable frolic, the soldier changed his 
 mind, and, in an evil hour, as it afterwards ap- 
 peared, consented to remain until Brown Briareus 
 was brought in, — provided this should happen be- 
 fore mid-day : at which time, if the horse did not 
 appear, it was agreed he should set out, trusting 
 to his good fortune and the friendly zeal of his 
 host, for the future recovery and restoration of his 
 charger. Later than mid-day he was resolved 
 not to remain ; for however secure the road, it 
 was wiser to pursue it in company than alone ; 
 nor would he have consented to remain a moment, 
 had there appeared the least impediment to his 
 joining the companions of his exile before night- 
 fall. 
 
 His measures were taken accordingly. His 
 baggage-horses, under the charge of the younger 
 of the two negroes, were sent on with the band; 
 the other, an old and faithful slave of his father, 
 being retained as a useful appendage to a party 
 containing his kinswoman, from whom he, of 
 course, saw no reason to be separated. To Edith 
 herself, the delay was far from being disagreeable. 
 It promised a gay and cheerful gallop through the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 87 
 
 forest, instead of the dull, plodding, funeral-like 
 march to which she had been day after day mo- 
 notonously accustomed. She assented, therefore, 
 to the arrangement, and, like her kinsman, beheld, 
 in the fresh light of sun-rise, without a sigh, with- 
 out even a single foreboding of evil, the departure 
 of the train of emigrants, with whom she had 
 journeyed in safety so many long and weary 
 leagues through the desert. 
 
 They set out in high spirits, after shaking hands 
 with their hosts, at the gates, and saluting them 
 with cheers, which they repeated in honour of 
 their young captain; and, in a few moments, the 
 whole train had vanished, as if swallowed up by 
 the dark forest. 
 
88 KICK OF THE WOODS-- 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 WiTHiiV an hour after the emigrants had se!: 
 out, the sky, which had previously been clear and 
 radiant, began to be overcast with clouds, drop- 
 ping occasional rains, which Roland scarcely ob- 
 sei'ved with regret, their effect on the sultry at- 
 mosphere being highly agreeable and refreshing.. 
 They continued thus to fall at intervals until nine 
 o'clock ; when Roland, as he sat on the porch de- 
 bating with Bruce the probabilities of their con- 
 tinuance, was roused by a shout from the outer 
 village, and looking up, he beheld, to his great de- 
 hght, Richard Bruce, the second son of his host, 
 a lad of sixteen, ride into the enclosure, leading in 
 triumph his recovered charger. 
 
 " Thar's the brute, strannger !" said he, with 
 uncommon glee : " he war too hard a boss for 
 Ralph's riding ; and, I reckon, if he had n*t been, 
 you would n't have had him so easy, for he's a 
 peeler at run, trot, or gallop, he is, I tell you ! It's 
 bad luck for Stackpole to be flung by man and 
 beast two days hand-running, — first by Bloody 
 Nathan, then by a stolen crittur !" 
 
 "And whar is the brute, Stackpole? and what 
 have you done with him?" demanded Bruce. 
 
 " Thar, father, you're too hard t^:>r me," replied 
 the youth ; " but I'll tell you all I know on it. — You 
 need n't look at his legs, captain, for they're all as 
 sound as hickory : the crittur's a bit worried with 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 80 
 
 his morning's work ; but that's nothing to speak 
 on." 
 
 The lad's story was soon told. The track of the 
 horse-thief had been followed through the woods ; 
 and it was soon seen, from it's irregularity, that 
 he had made an unlucky selection of beasts, both 
 being so restive and rebellious, that, it was ob- 
 vious, he had found it no easy matter to urge 
 them along. A place was found where he ap- 
 peared to have been thrown by the turbulent 
 Briareus, which he seemed afterw^ards to have 
 pursued, mounted on the pony, in the vain hope 
 of retaking the mettlesome charger, until per- 
 suaded of his inability, or afraid, from the direc- 
 tion in which the animal had fled, of being led 
 back again to the settlement. His track, after 
 abandoning the chase, was as plain as that left by 
 the war-horse, and was followed by the main body 
 of pursuers; while Richard and two or three others, 
 taking the latter, had the good fortune to find and 
 recover the animal as he was solacing himself, 
 after his morning adventures, in a grassy wood, 
 scarce two miles from the Station. What had be- 
 come of Stackpole the lad knew not, but had no 
 doubt, as he added, with a knowing look, " that 
 Lynch's boys would soon give a good account of 
 him ; for Major Smalleye war as mad as a beaten 
 b'ar about the two-y'ar-old pony." 
 
 "Well," said the father, "I reckon the brute 
 will deserve all he may come by ; and thar's no 
 use in mourning him. Thar's as good Injun- 
 fighters as he, left in Kentucky, thar's the com- 
 fort ; and thar's no denying, men will be much 
 easier about their horses." 
 
 With this consoling assurance, in which Roland 
 saw implied the visitation of the deadliest ven- 
 geance on the head of the offender, Bruce pro- 
 8* 
 
90 NICK OF THE WOODS, 
 
 ceeded to congratulate him on the recovery of 
 Brown Briareus, and to intimate his readiness, 
 after the animal had been allowed a httle rest, 
 which it evidently needed, to marshal his band of 
 young men, and conduct him on his w^ay after the 
 exiles. But fate willed that the friendly intention 
 should never be put into execution, and that the 
 young soldier should go forth on his pilgrimage- 
 unattended and unprotected. 
 
 Within the space of half an hour, the clouds, 
 which seemed previousl}^ to have discharged all 
 their moisture, collected into a dense canopy, 
 darkening the whole heaven, and rumbling with 
 thunder, that became every moment louder and 
 heavier. Then came gusts of wind, groaning 
 through the forest, rattling among the dead limbs 
 of the girdled trees, and whistling over the pali- 
 sades of the fort. These were succeeded by 
 louder peals of thunder, and vivid flashes of light- 
 ning, which continued and increased, until the 
 tempest, for such it w^as, burst in fury, discharging 
 deluges of rain, that fell with unintermitting vio- 
 lence until an hour or more after mid-day. 
 
 This was a circumstance, which, as it necessa- 
 rily deferred the niomcnt of his setting outy caused 
 Forrester a little uneasiness; but he soon came to 
 beheve he had reason to congratulate himself on 
 its occurrence, since it was scarce possible the 
 band would continue their journey in such a storm ; 
 and, indeed, Bruce was of opinion that the day's 
 march would be ended on the banks of the river, 
 — one of the principal forks of the Salt, — but little 
 more than ten miles from his Station; where, if the 
 exiles were wdse, they would pitch their camp, wait- 
 ing for the subsidence of the w'aters. This was a 
 point that Roland might be expected to reach in a 
 ride of three or four hours at most; which consi- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 9t 
 
 deration not only satisfied him under the delay, 
 but almost made him resolve to defer his setting- 
 out until the following morning, that his kinswo- 
 man might have the advantage of sleeping a se- 
 cond time under the shelter of a roof, rather than 
 be compelled to exchange it for the chill and humid 
 forest. 
 
 It was while he was balancing this thought in 
 his mind, and watching with a gladdened eye the 
 first flash of sunshine, breaking through the parted 
 clouds, that a shout, louder than that which had 
 proclaimed the recovery of his steed, but of a 
 wild and mournful character, arose from the outer 
 village, and a horseman, covered with mud, reek- 
 ing with rain, and reeling in the saddle with fa- 
 tigue and exhaustion, rode into the fort, followed 
 by a crowd of men, women, and children, all tes- 
 tifying, by their looks and exclamations, that he 
 was the bearer of alarming news. And such in- 
 deed he was, as was shown by the first words he 
 answered in reply to Bruce's demand " what was 
 the matter?" 
 
 "There are a thousand Indians," he said, "Shaw- 
 nees, Delawares, Wyandots, Miamies, — all the 
 tribes of the North, — laying siege to Bryant's Sta- 
 tion, and perhaps at this moment they are burn- 
 ing and murdering at Lexington. Men, Colonel 
 Bruce ! send us all your men, without a moment's 
 delay; and send off for Logan, and his forces ; de- 
 spatch some one who can ride, for I can sit a 
 horse no longer." 
 
 " Whar's Dick Bruce?" cried the Kentuckian; 
 and the son answering, he continued, " Mount the 
 roan Long-legs, you brute, and ride to St. Asaph's 
 in no time. Tell Gunnel Logan what you h'ar; 
 and add, that before he can draw girth, I shall be, 
 with every fighting-man in my fort, on the north 
 
92 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 side of Kentucky. Ride, you brute, ride for your 
 life; and do you take car' you conae along with 
 the Gunnel; for it's time you war trying your 
 hand at an Injun top-knot. Ride, you brute, 
 ride !" 
 
 " Wah — wah — wah — wah !" w^hooped the boy, 
 like a young Indian, flying to obey the order, and 
 exulting in the expectation of combat. 
 
 "Sound horn, you Samuel Sharp!" cried the 
 father. " You, Ben Jones, and some more of you, 
 ride out and rouse the settlements; and, some of 
 you, hunt up Tom Bruce and the Regulators: it 
 war a pity they hanged Ralph Stackpole; for he 
 fights Injuns like a wolverine. Tell all them that 
 ar'n't ready to start, to follow at a hard gallop, 
 and join me at the ford of Kentucky; and them 
 that can't join me thar, let them follow to Lex- 
 ington; and them that don't find me thar, let them 
 follow to Bryant's, or to any-whar whar thar's In- 
 juns ! Hurrah, you brutes! whar's your guns and 
 your horses'? your knives and your tomahawks? 
 If thar's a thousand Injuns, or the half of 'em, 
 thar's meat for all of you. Whar's Ikey Jones, 
 the fifer? Let's have Yankee-Doodle and the 
 Rogue's March; for, by the etarnal Old Scratch, 
 all them w^hite-men that ar'n't a-horse-back in 
 twenty-five minutes, are rogues worse than red 
 Injuns ! — Hurrah for Kentucky !" 
 
 The spirit of the worthy officer of militia infused 
 animation into all bosoms; and, in an instant, the 
 settlement, late so peaceful, resounded with the 
 hum and uproar of warlike preparation. Horses 
 were caught and saddled, rifles pulled from their 
 perches, knives sharpened, ammunition-pouches and 
 provender-bags filled, and every other step taken 
 necessary to the simple equipment of a border 
 
KICK OF THE WOODS. 93 
 
 army, called to action in an emergency so sudden 
 and urgent. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the intelligence was not with- 
 out its effects on Roland Forrester, who, seeing 
 himself so unexpectedly deprived of the promised 
 escort, — for he could scarce think, under such 
 circumstances, of withdrawing a single man from 
 the force called to a duty so important, — per- 
 ceived the necessity of employing his own re- 
 sources to effect escape from a position which he 
 now felt to be embarrassing. He regretted, for 
 the first time, his separation from the band of emi- 
 grants, and became doubly anxious to follow 
 them: for, if it w^ere true that so large a force of 
 Indians was really in the District, there w^as every 
 reason to suppose they would, according to their 
 known system of w^arfare, divide into small parties, 
 and scatter over the whole country, infesting 
 every road and path; and he knew not how soon 
 some of them might be found following on the 
 heels of the messenger. He took advantage of 
 the first symptom of returning serenity on the 
 part of his host, to acquaint him with his reso- 
 lution to set out immediately, the rains having 
 ceased, and the clouds broken up and almost 
 vanished. 
 
 " Lord, captain," said the Kentuckian, " I 
 hoped you would have been for taking a brush 
 with us; and it war my idea to send a messenger 
 after your party, in hopes your men w^ould join 
 us in the rusty. Whar will they have such ano- 
 ther chance ? A thousand Injuns ready cut and 
 dried for kiUing ! Lord, what a fool I war for 
 not setting more store by that tale of Nathan 
 Slaughter's! I never knowed the brute to lie in 
 such a case; for, as he is always ramping about 
 the woods, he's as good as a paid scout. How- 
 
94 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 somever, the crittur did'nt speak on Iiis own 
 knowledge; and that infarnal Stackpole was just 
 ripe from the North side. But, I say, captain, if 
 your men w^ill fight, just tote 'em back, stow away 
 the women behind the logs here, and march your 
 guns after me ; and, if thar's half the number of 
 red niggurs they speak of, to be found, you shall 
 see an affa'r of a skrimmage that will be good for 
 your wholesome, — you will, by the etarnal !" 
 
 " If the men are of that mind," said Roland, 
 gallantly, "1 am not the one to balk them. I will, 
 at least, see whither their inclinations tend ; and 
 that the matter may the sooner be decided, I will 
 set out without delay." 
 
 " And we who war to escort you, captain," 
 said the Kentuckian, with some embarrassment : 
 "you're a soldier, captain, and you see the case!" 
 
 " I do ; I have no desire to weaken your force ; 
 and, I trust, no protection is needed." 
 
 " Not an iota ; the road is as safe as the furrow 
 of a Virginnee corn-field, — at least till you strike 
 the lower Forks ; and thar I've heard of no ram- 
 paging since last summer : I'll indamnify you 
 against all loss and mischief, — I will, if it war on 
 my salvation !" 
 
 " If you could but spare me a single guide," 
 said Forrester. 
 
 " Whar's the use, captain ? The road is as 
 broad and cl'ar as a turnpike in the Old Domin- 
 ion ; it leads you, chock up, right on the Upper 
 Ford, whar thar's safe passage at any moment : 
 but, I reckon, the rains will make it look a little 
 wrathy a while, and so fetch your people to a 
 stand-still. But it's a pot soon full and soon 
 empty, and it will be low enough in the morning." 
 
 "The Upper Ford?" said Roland, his dream, 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 95 
 
 for so he esteemed it, recurring to his mind : " is 
 there then a Lower Ford?" 
 
 " Ay," repUed Bruce ; " but thar's no passing it 
 in the freshes ; and besides the place has a bad 
 name. It war thar old John Ashburn pitched his 
 Station, in '78 ; but the savages made murdering 
 work of him, taking every scalp in the company; 
 and so it makes one sad-like to pass thar, and the 
 more partickelarly that its' all natteral fine ground 
 for an ambush. You'll see the road, when you're 
 six mile deep in the forest, turning oft' to the right, 
 under a shivered beech-tree. You are then four 
 miles from the river, or tharabouts, and just 
 that distance, I reckon, from your company. No, 
 captain," he repeated, " the road is wide and open, 
 and a guide war mere lumber on your hands." 
 
 This was a point, however, on which the young 
 soldier, doubly solicitous on his kinswoman's ac- 
 count, to avoid mistake, was not so easily satis- 
 fied: seeing which, the Kentuckian yielded to his 
 importunity, — perhaps somewhat ashamed of suf- 
 fering his guests to depart entirely alone, — and 
 began to cast about him for some suitable person 
 who could be prevailed upon to exchange the pri- 
 vilege of fighting Indians for the inglorious duty 
 of conducting wayfarers through the forest. This 
 was no easy task, and it was not until he assumed 
 his mihtary authority, as commander of all the 
 enrolled militia-men in his district, empowered to 
 make such disposition of his forces as he thought 
 fit, that he succeeded in compelling the service of 
 one of his reluctant followers, under whose guid- 
 ance Roland and his little party soon after set 
 out. Their farewells w^ere briefly said, the urgent 
 nature of his duties leaving the hospitable Bruce 
 little opportunity for superfluous speech. He fol- 
 lowed them, however, to the bottom of the hill, 
 
96 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 grasped Roland by the hand; and doing the sanae 
 thing by Edith, as if his conscience smote him for 
 dismissing her with so httle ceremony and such 
 insufficient attendance, he swore that if any evil 
 happened to her on the road, he would rest neither 
 night nor day until he had repaired it, or lost his 
 scalp in the effort. 
 
 With this characteristic and somewhat ominous 
 farewell, he took his leave ; and the cousins, with 
 their guide and faithful servant, spurred onwards 
 at a brisk pace, until the open fields of the settle- 
 ment were exchanged for the deep and gloomy 
 w^ood lands. 
 
SICK OF THE WOODS. 97 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The sun shone out clearly and brilliantly, and 
 the tree-tops, from which the winds had already 
 shaken the rain, rustled freshly to the more mo- 
 derate breezes that had succeeded them ; and 
 Roland, animated by the change, by the brisk 
 pace at which he was riding, and by the hope of 
 soon overtaking his fellow-exiles, met the joyous 
 looks of his kinswoman with a countenance no 
 longer disturbed by care. 
 
 And yet there was a solemnity in the scene 
 around them that might have called for other and 
 more sombre feehngs. The forest into which 
 they had plunged, was of the grand and gloomy 
 character, which the fertility of the soil, and the 
 absence of the axe for a thousand years, imprint 
 on the western woodlands, especially in the vici- 
 nity of rivers. Oaks, elms, and walnuts, tulip- 
 trees and beeches, with other monarchs of the 
 wilderness, lifted their trunks like so many pillars, 
 green with mosses and ivies, and swung their ma- 
 jestic arms, tufted with mistletoe, far over head, 
 supporting a canopy, — a series of domes and arches 
 without end, — that had for ages overshadowed the 
 soil. Their roots, often concealed by a billowy 
 undergrowth of shrubs and bushes, oftener by 
 brakes of the gigantic and evergreen cane, form- 
 ing fences as singular as they were, for the most 
 part, impenetrable, were yet at times visible, 
 where open glades stretched through the woods, 
 
 VOL. r. — 9 
 
98 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 broken only by buttressed trunks, and by the 
 stems of colossal vines, hanging from the boughs 
 like cables, or the arms of an Oriental banyan ; 
 while their luxuriant tops rolled in union with the 
 leafy roofs that supported them. The vague and 
 shadowy prospects opened by these occasional 
 glades, stirred the imagination and produced a 
 feeling of solitude in the mind, greater perhaps 
 than would have been felt, had the view been con- 
 tinually bounded by a green wall of canes. 
 
 The road, if such it could be called, through 
 this noble forest was, like that the emigrants had 
 so long pursued through the wilderness, a mere 
 path, designated, where the w^ood was open, by 
 blazes, or axe-marks on the trees ; and, where the 
 undergrowth was dense, a narrow track cut 
 through the canes and shrubs, scarce sufficient in 
 many places to allow the passage of two horse- 
 men abreast; though when, as was frequently the 
 case, it followed the ancient routes of the bisons 
 10 fords and salt-licks, it presented, as Bruce had 
 described, a wide and commodious highway, prac- 
 ticable even to wheeled carriages. 
 
 The gait of the little party over this road was 
 at first rapid and cheery enough ; but by and by, 
 having penetrated deeper into the wood, where 
 breezes and sunbeams were alike unknown, they 
 found their progress impeded by a thousand pools 
 and sloughs, the consequences of the storm, that 
 stretched from brake to brake. These interrup- 
 tions promised to make the evening journey longer 
 than Roland had anticipated; but he caught, at 
 intervals, the fresh foot-prints of his comrades in 
 the soil where it was not exposed to the rains, and 
 reflected with pleasure, that, travelling even at the 
 slowest pace, he must reach the ford where he 
 expected to find them encamped, long before dark. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 09 
 
 He felt therefore no uneasiness at the delay; nor 
 did he think any of those obstacles to rapid pro- 
 gress a cause for regret that gave him the better 
 opportunity to interchange ideas with his fair kins- 
 woman. 
 
 His only concern arose from the conduct of his 
 guide, a rough, dark-visaged man, who had be- 
 trayed, from the first moment of starting, a sullen 
 countenance, indicative of his disinclination to 
 the duty assigned him; which feehng evidently 
 grew stronger the further he advanced, notwith- 
 standing sundry efforts Forrester made to bring 
 him into a better humour. He displayed no de- 
 sire to enter into conversation with the soldier, 
 replying to such questions as were directed at him 
 with a brevity little short of rudeness; and his 
 smothered exclamations of impatience, when- 
 ever his delicate followers slackened their pace at 
 a bog or gully, which he had himself dashed 
 through with a manly contempt of mud and 
 mire, somewhat stirred the choler of the young 
 captain. 
 
 They had perhaps followed him a distance of 
 four miles into the forest, when the occurrence 
 of a wider and deeper pool than ordinary pro- 
 ducing a corresponding delay on the part of Ro- 
 land, who was somewhat averse to plunging with 
 Edith up to the saddle-girths in mire, drew from 
 him a very unmannerly, though not the less hearty 
 execration on the delicacy of ' them thar persons 
 who,' as he expressed it, ' stumped at a mud-hole 
 as skearily as if every tadpole in it war a screech- 
 ing Injun.' 
 
 Of this explosion of ill-temper Roland took no 
 notice, until he had, with the assistance of Em- 
 peror, the negro, affected a safe passage for Edith 
 o ver the puddle ; in the course of which he had 
 
100 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 leisure to observe that the path now struck into ^ 
 wide buffalo-street^ that swept away through a 
 wilderness of wood and cane-brake, in nearly a 
 straight line, for a considerable distance. He ob- 
 served also, that the road looked drier and less 
 broken than usual ; his satisfaction at which had 
 the good effect of materially abating the rage into 
 which he had been thrown by the uncivil bearing 
 of the guide; Nevertheless^ he had no sooner 
 brought his^ kinswoman safely to land, than, leav- 
 ing her in the charge of Emperor, he galloped up 
 to the side of his conductor, and gave vent to his 
 indignation in the following i^ithy query : 
 
 "My friend/' said he, "will you have the good- 
 ness to inform me whether you have ever lived in 
 a land where courtesy to strangers, and kindness 
 and respect to women, are ranked among the 
 virtues of manhood Z?'^ 
 
 The man replied only by a nerce and angry 
 stare; and plying the ribs of his horse with his 
 heels, he dashed onwards. But Roland kept at 
 his side, not doubting that a little more wholesome 
 reproof would be of profit to the man, as well as 
 advantageous to his own interests. 
 
 " I ask that question," he continued, "because a 
 man from such a land, seeing strangers, and one 
 of them a female, struggling in a bog, would, in- 
 stead of standing upon dry land, making disre- 
 spectful remarks, have done his best to help them 
 through it." 
 
 "Strannger;" said the man, drawing up his 
 horse, and looking, notwithstanding his anger, as 
 if he felt the rebuke to be in a measure just, " I 
 am neither hog nor dog, Injun nor outlandish nig- 
 gur, but a man, — a man, strannger! outside and 
 inside, in flesh, blood, and spirit, jest as my Maker 
 made me : though thar may be something of the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 101 
 
 scale-bark and parsimmon about me, Pll not deny; 
 for I've heer'd on it before. I axes the lady's par- 
 don, if I've offended ; and thar's the eend on't." 
 
 " The end of it," said Forrester, " v^^ill be much 
 more satisfactory, if you give no further occasion 
 for complaint. But nou^," he continued, Edith 
 drawing nigh, *' let us ride on, and as fast as you 
 like ; for the road seems both open and good." 
 
 " Strannger," said the guide, without budging 
 an inch, "you have axed me a question; and ac- 
 cording to the fa'r rule of the woods, it's my 
 right to ax you another." 
 
 " Very well," said Roland, assenting to the jus- 
 tice of the rule : " ask it, and be brief" 
 
 " What you war saying of the road is true; thar 
 it goes, wide, open, cl'ar and straight, with as good 
 a fence on both sides of it to keep in stragglers, 
 as war ever made of ash, oak, or chestnut rails, — 
 though it's nothing but a natteral bank of cane- 
 brake : and so it runs, jest as cl'ar and wide, all 
 the way to the river." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," was the soldier's re- 
 ply : " but now for your question ?" 
 
 " Hy'ar it is," said the man, flinging out his hand 
 with angry energy : " I wants to ax of you, as a 
 sodger, for I've heer'd you're of the reggelar sar- 
 vice, whether it's a wiser and more christian 
 affa'r, when thar's Injuns in the land a murdering 
 of your neighbour's wives and children, and all 
 the settlements in a screech and a cry, to send an 
 able-bodied man to fight them; or to tote him off, 
 a day's journey thar and back ag'in, to track a 
 road that a blind man on a blind horse could 
 travel, without axing questions of any body? 
 Thar's my question," he added, somewhat ve- 
 hemently; "and now let's have a sodger's an- 
 
 swer! 
 
 I" 
 
 9* 
 
102 NICK OF THE WOOBS- 
 
 " My good friend," said Roland, a little offend- 
 ed, and yet more embarrassed, by the interroga- 
 tory, " none can tell better than yourself how much, 
 or how little occasion I may have for a guide. 
 Your question, therefore, I leave you to answer 
 yourself. If you think your duty calls you to 
 abandon a woman in the wild woods to such guid- 
 ance as one wholly unacquainted with them can 
 give, you can depart as soon as you think fit; for 
 I cannot " 
 
 The guide gave him no time to finish the sen- 
 tence. " You're right, strannger," he cried ; 
 "thar is your road, as plain as the way up a 
 hickory, braving to a camp of old friends and ac- 
 quaintances, — and hy'ar is mine, running right slap 
 among fighting Injuns !" 
 
 And w^ith that he turned his horse's head, and 
 flourishing his right hand, armed with the ever- 
 constant rifle, above his own, and uttering a whoop 
 expressive of the wild pleasure he felt at being re- 
 leased from his ignoble duty, bedashed across the 
 pool, and galloped in a moment out of sight, leav- 
 ing Roland and his party confounded at the de- 
 sertion. 
 
 " * An outlandish niggur' !" muttered old Em- 
 peror, on whom this expression of the guide had 
 produced no very favourable effect; "guess the 
 gemman white-man is a niggur himself, and a 
 rogue, and a potater, or whatsomever you call 
 'em ! Leab a lady and a gemman lost in the 
 woods, and neither take 'em on nor take 'em back ! 
 — lor-a-massy I" 
 
 To this half-soliloquized expression of indigna- 
 tion the soldier felt inclined to add a few bitter 
 invectives of his own ; but Edith treating the mat- 
 ter lightly, and affecting to be better pleased at the 
 rude man's absence than she had been with his 
 
MCK OF THE WOODS. 103 
 
 company, he abated his own wrath, and acknow- 
 ledged that the desertion afforded the best proof 
 of the safety of the road ; since he could not be- 
 lieve that the fellow, with all his roughness and 
 inhumanity, would have been so base as to leave 
 them, while really surrounded by difficulties. He 
 remembered enough of Bruce's description of the 
 road, which he had taken care should be minute 
 and exact, to feel persuaded that the principal ob- 
 structions were now over, and that, as the guide 
 had said, there was no possibility of wandering 
 from the path. They had already travelled nearly 
 half the distance to the river, and to accomplish 
 the remainder, they had yet four hours of day- 
 light. He saw no reason why they should not 
 proceed alone, trusting to their good fate for a 
 fortunate issue to the enterprise. To return to the 
 fort w^ould be onl}^ to separate themselves further 
 from their friends, without insuring them a better 
 guide, or, indeed, any guide at all, since it was 
 highly probable they would find it only occupied 
 by women and children. In a w^ord, he satisfied 
 himself that nothing remained for him but to con- 
 tinue his journey, and trust to his own sagacity to 
 end it to advantage. 
 
 He set out accordingly, followed by Edith and 
 Emperor, the latter bringing up the rear in true 
 military style, and handling his rifle, as if almost 
 desirous of finding an opportunity to use it in the 
 service of his young mistress. 
 
 In this manner, they travelled onwards with but 
 little interruption for more than a mile; and Ro- 
 land was beginning anxiously to look for the path 
 that led to the Lower Ford, when Emperor galloped 
 to the van and brought the party to a halt by re- 
 porting that he heard the sound of hoofs following 
 at a distance behind. 
 
104 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 " Perhaps, — perhaps," said Edith, while the 
 gleam of her eye, shining with sudden pleasure, 
 indicated how little real satisfaction she had felt 
 at the desertion of their conductor, — "perhaps it 
 is the sour fellow, the guide, coming back, asham- 
 ed of his misconduct." 
 
 " We will soon see," said Roland, turning his 
 horse to reconnoitre ; a proceeding that was, how- 
 ever, rendered unnecessary by the hurried speed 
 of the comer, who, dashing suddenly round a bend 
 in the road, disclosed to his wondering eyes, not 
 the tall frame and sullen aspect of the guide, but 
 the lighter figure and fairer visage of the girl, Te- 
 lie Doe. She w^as evidently arrayed for travel, 
 having donned her best attire of blue cloth, with 
 a little cap of the same colour on her head, under 
 which her countenance, beaming with exercise 
 and anxiety, looked, in both Roland's and Edith's 
 eyes, extremely pretty; much more so, indeed, 
 than either had deemed her to be; while, secured 
 behind the cushion, or pillion, on which she rode, 
 — for not a jot of saddle had she, — was a little 
 bundle containing such worldly comforts as were 
 necessary to one seriously bent upon a journey. 
 She was mounted upon a sprightly pony, which 
 she managed with more address and courage than 
 would have been augured from her former timor- 
 ous demeanour; and it was plain that she had put 
 him to his mettle through the woods, with but lit- 
 tle regard to the sloughs and puddles which had 
 so greatly embarrassed the fair Edith. Indeed, it 
 appeared, that the exercise which had infused 
 animation into her countenance had bestowed a 
 share also on her spirit; for having checked her 
 horse an instant, and looked a little abashed at the 
 sudden sight of the strangers, she recovered her- 
 self in a moment, and riding boldly up, she pro- 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 105 
 
 ceeded, without waiting to be questioned, to explain 
 the cause of her appearance. She had met the 
 deserter, she said, returning to the Station, and 
 thinking it was not right the stranger lady should 
 be left without a guide in the woods, she had rid- 
 den after her to offer her services. 
 
 " It was at least somewhat surprising," Roland 
 could not avoid saying, " that the fellow should 
 have found you already equipt in the woods'?" 
 
 At this innuendo. Telle was somewhat embar- 
 rassed, but more so, when, looking towards Edith, 
 as if to address her reply to her, she caught the 
 inquiring look of the latter, made still more ex- 
 pressive by the recollection which Edith retained 
 of the earnest entreaty Telle had made the pre- 
 ceding night, to be taken into her service. 
 
 "I will not tell you a falsehood, ma'am," she 
 said at last, with a firm voice: " I was not on the 
 road by chance : I came to follow you. I knew, 
 the man you had to guide you was unwilling to 
 go, and I thought he w^ould leave you, as he has 
 done. And, besides, the road is not so clear as it 
 seems ; it branches off to so many of the salt- 
 licks, and the tracks are so w^ashed away by the 
 rains, that none but one that knows it can be sure 
 of keeping it long." 
 
 " And how," inquired Edith, very pointedly, — 
 for, in her heart, she suspected the little damsel 
 was determined to enter her service, whether she 
 would or not, and had actually run away from her 
 friends for the purpose, — " how, after you have 
 led us to our party, do you expect to return again 
 to your friends?" 
 
 " If you will let me go with you as far as Jack- 
 son's Station," — (the settlement at which it was 
 originally determined the emigrants should pass 
 the night,) said the maiden, humbly, '' I will find 
 
106 PfICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 friends there who will take me home; and per- 
 haps our own people will come for me, — for they 
 are often visiting about among the. Stations." 
 
 This declaration, made in a tone that convinced 
 Edith the girl had given over all hopes of being 
 received kito her protection, unless she could re- 
 move opposition by the services she might render 
 on the way, pointed out also an easy mode of get- 
 ting rid of her, when a separation should be ad-, 
 visable, and thus removed the only objection she 
 felt to accept her proffered guidance. As for Ro- 
 land, however, he expressed much natural re- 
 luctance to drag a young and inexperienced fe- 
 male so far from her home, leaving her after- 
 wards to return as she might. But he perceived 
 that her presence gave courage to his kinswoman ; 
 he felt that her acquaintance with the path was 
 more to be relied upon than his own sagacity; and 
 he knew not, if he even rejected her offered ser- 
 vices altogether, how he could with any grace 
 communicate the refusal, and leave her abandon- 
 ed to her own discretion in the forest. He felt a 
 little inclined, at first, to wonder at the interest 
 she seemed to have taken in his cousin's welfare; 
 but, by and by, he reflected that perhaps, after all, 
 her motive lay in no better or deeper feeling than 
 a mere girlish desire to make her way to the 
 neighbouring Station, (twenty miles make but a 
 neighbourly distance in the wilderness,) to enjoy a 
 frolic among her gadding acquaintance. This re- 
 flection ended the struggle in his mind; and turn- 
 ing to her with a smiling countenance, he said, 
 "If you are so sure of getting home, my pretty 
 maid, you may be as certain we will be glad of 
 your company and guidance. But let us delay no 
 longer." 
 
 The girl, starting at these words with alacrity, 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 107 
 
 switched her pony and darted to the head of the 
 Httle party, as if addressing herself to her duty in 
 a business-Uke way; and there she maintained her 
 position with great zeal, although Roland and 
 Edith endeavoured, for kindness' sake, to make 
 her sensible they desired her to ride with them as 
 a companion, and not at a distance like a pioneer. 
 The faster they spurred, however, the more zeal- 
 ously she plied her switch, and her pony being 
 both spirited and fresh, while their own horses 
 were both not a little the worse for their long 
 journey, she managed to keep in front, maintain- 
 ing a gait that promised in a short time to bring 
 them to the banks of the river. 
 
 They had ridden perhaps a mile in this man- 
 ner, when a sudden opening in the cane-brake on 
 the right hand, at a place where stood a beech- 
 tree, riven by a thunderbolt in former years, but 
 still spreading its shattered ruins in the air, con- 
 vinced Roland that he had at last reached the 
 road to the Lower Ford, which Bruce had so strict- 
 ly cautioned him to avoid. What, therefore, was 
 his surprise, when Telie, having reached the tree, 
 turned at once into the by-road, leaving the direct 
 path which they had so long pursued, and which 
 still swept away before them, as spacious and un- 
 interrupted, save by occasional pools, as ever. 
 
 " You are wrong," he cried, checking his steed. 
 
 " This is the road, sir," said the girl, though in 
 some trepidation. 
 
 "By no means," said Forrester: "that path 
 leads to the Lower Ford: here is the shivered 
 beech, which the Colonel described to me." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Telie, hurriedly; "it is the 
 mark: they call it the Crooked Finger-post." 
 
 "And a crooked road it is like to lead us, if we 
 follow it," said Roland. " It leads to the Lower 
 
108 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 Ford, and is not therefore our road. I remember 
 the Colonel's direction." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Telle, anxiously, — '< to take the 
 beech on the right shoulder, and then down, four 
 miles, to the water." 
 
 " Precisely so," said the soldier ; " with only 
 this dillerence, (for, go which way we will, the 
 tree being on the right side of each path, we must 
 still keep it on the right shoulder,) that the road to 
 the Upper Ford, which I am now travelling, is the 
 one for our purposes. Of this I am confident." 
 
 " And yet, Roland," said Edith, somewhat 
 alarmed at this difference of opinion, where una- 
 nimity was so much more desirable, "the young 
 woman should know best." 
 
 " Yes !" cried Telle, eagerly : " I have lived 
 here almost seven years, and been across the 
 river more, than as many times. This is the 
 shortest and safest way." 
 
 " It may be both the shortest and safest," said 
 Forrester, whose respect for the girl's knowledge 
 of the woods and ability to guide him through 
 them, began to be vastly diminished; "but this is 
 the road Mr. Bruce described. Of this I am posi- 
 tive ; and to make the matter still more certain, if 
 need be, here are horse-tracks, fresh, numerous, 
 scarcely washed by the rain, and undoubtedly 
 made by our old companions ; whereas tliat path 
 seems not to have been trodden for a twelve- 
 month." 
 
 " I will guide you right," faltered Telle, with 
 anxious voice. 
 
 " My good girl," said the soldier, kindly, but 
 positively, " you must allow me to doubt your 
 ability to do that, — at least, on that path. Here is 
 our road ; and we must follow it." 
 
NICK OF Tire WOODS. 109 
 
 He resumed it, as he spoke, and Edith, conquer- 
 «ed by his arguments which seemed decisive, fol- 
 lowed him; but looking back, after having pro- 
 ceeded a few steps, she saw the baffled guide still 
 lingering on the rejected path, and wringing her 
 hands with grief and disappointment. 
 
 "You will not remain behind us?" said Edith, 
 riding back to her: " You see, my cousin is posi- 
 tive : you must surely be mistaken ?" 
 
 " I am not mistaken," said the girl, earnestly ; 
 " and, oh, he will repent that ever he took his own 
 way through this forest." 
 
 •' How can that be ? What cause have you to 
 say so ?" 
 
 '^ I do not know," murmured the damsel, in 
 woful perplexity ; "but, — but, sometimes, that road 
 is dangerous." 
 
 " Sometimes all roads are so," said Edith, her 
 patience failing, when she found Telle could give 
 no better reason for her opposition. " Let us con- 
 tinue: my kinsman is w^aiting us, and we must lose 
 no more time by delay." 
 
 With these words, she again trotted forward, 
 and Telle, after hesitating a moment, thought fit 
 to follow. 
 
 But now the animation that had, a few moments 
 before, beamed forth in every look and gesture of 
 the maiden, gave place to dejection of spirits, and 
 even, as Edith thought, to alarm. She seemed as 
 anxious now to linger in the rear as she had been 
 before to preserve a bold position in front. Her 
 eyes wandered timorously from brake to tree, as 
 if in fear lest each should conceal a lurking 
 enemy ; and often, as Edith looked back, she was 
 struck with the singularly mournful and distressed 
 expression of her co-jntcnance. 
 
 VOL. I. 10 
 
110 NJCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 These symptoms of anxiety and alarm affected 
 Edith's own spirits; they did more, they shook 
 her faith in the justice of her kinsman's conclu- 
 sions. His arguments in relation to the road were, 
 indeed, unanswerable, and Telle had offered none 
 to weaken them. Yet why should she betray 
 such distress, if they were upon the right one ? 
 and why, in fact, should she not be supposed to 
 know both the right and the wrong, since she had, 
 as she said, so frepuently travelled both 1 
 
 These questions Edith could not refrain asking 
 of Roland, who professed himself unable to an- 
 swer them, unless by supposing the girl had be- 
 come confused, as he thought was not improbable, 
 or had, in reality, been so long absent from the 
 forest as to have forgotten its paths altogether : 
 which was hkely enough, as she seemed a very 
 simple-minded, inexperienced creature. " But why 
 need we," he said, " trouble ourselves to find rea- 
 sons for the poor girl's opposition ? Here are the 
 tracks of our friends, broader and deeper than 
 ever : here they wind down into the hollow ; and 
 there, you may see where they have floundered 
 through that vile pool, that is still turbid, where 
 they crossed it. A horrible quagmire ! But cou- 
 rage, my fair cousin : it is only such difficulties as 
 these which the road can lead us into." 
 
 Such were the expressions with which the young 
 soldier endeavoured to reassure his kinswoman's 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. Ill 
 
 courage, his own confidence remaining still un- 
 moved ; although in secret he felt somewhat sur- 
 prised at the coincidence between the girl's re- 
 commendations of the by-road and the injunctions 
 of his morning dream. But while pondering over 
 the wonder, he had arriv^ed at the quagmire al- 
 luded to, through which the difficulties of con- 
 ducting his cousin were sufficiently great to banish 
 other matters for a moment from his mind. Hav- 
 ing crossed it at last in safety, he paused to give 
 such instructions or assistance as might be needed 
 by his two followers; when Edith, who had halted 
 at his side, suddenly laid her hand on his arm, and 
 exclaimed, with a visage of terror, — " Hark, Ro- 
 land ! do you hear ? What is that ?" 
 
 " Heard him, massa !" ejaculated Emperor from 
 the middle of the bog, with voice still more quav- 
 ering than the maiden's, and lips rapidly changing 
 from Spanish-brown to clayey-yellow; "heard 
 him, massa! Reckon it's an Injun ! lorra-massy!" 
 
 " Peace, fool," cried Forrester, bending his 
 looks from the alarmed countenance of his kins- 
 woman to the quarter whence had proceeded the 
 sound which had so suddenly struck terror into 
 her bosom. 
 
 " Hark, Roland ! it rises again!" she exclaimed ; 
 and Roland now distinctly heard a sound in the 
 depth of the forest to the right hand, as of the 
 yell of a human being, but at a great distance off. 
 At the place which they had reached, the canes 
 and undergrowth of other kinds had disappeared, 
 and a wide glade, stretching over hill and hollow, 
 sw^ept away from both sides of the road further 
 than the eye could see. The trees, standing wider 
 apart than usual, were, if possible, of a more ma- 
 jestic stature ; their wide and massive tops were 
 so thickly interlaced, that not a single sunbeam 
 
112 MOK OF THE WOODS, 
 
 found its way among the gloomy arcades below. 
 A wilder, more solitary, and more awe-inspiring, 
 spot Roland had not before seen ; and it was pe- 
 culiarly fitted 10 add double eflect to sights and' 
 sounds of a melancholy or fearful character. Ac- 
 cordingly, when the cry was repeated, as it soon 
 ivas, thcmgh at the same distance as before, it 
 came echoing among the hollow arches of the 
 woods with a wild and almost unearthly cadence,, 
 the utterance, as it seemed, of mortal agony and 
 despair, that breathed a secret horror through the 
 breasts of all. 
 
 " It is the Jibbenainosay !'' muttered the shiver- 
 ing Telier " these are the w^oods he used to range 
 in most ; and they say he screams after his prey L 
 It is not too late : — let us go back !" 
 
 " An Injun, massa !" said Emperor, stuttering, 
 with fright, and yet proceeding both to handle his- 
 arms and to give encouragement to his young 
 mistress, which his age and privileged character., 
 as well as the urgency of the occasion, entitled 
 him to do: "don't be afraid,, missie Edie ; nebber 
 mind; — ole Emperor will fight and die for missie> 
 old massa John's daughter !" 
 
 " Hist !" said Roland, as another scream rose on 
 the air, louder and more thrilling than before. 
 
 " It is the cry of a human being !" said Edith, — 
 " of a man in distress !" 
 
 "It is^ indeed,." replied the soldier, — " of a man 
 in great perils or suilering.. Remain here on the 
 road ; and if any thing — Nay, if you will follow 
 me, it may be better; but let it be at a distance.. 
 If any thing happens to me, set spurs to your 
 horses: — Telle here can at least lead you back to 
 the fort." 
 
 With these words, and without waiting to hear 
 the rcm^onstrances, or remove the terrors of his 
 
XICK OF THE WOODS. 113 
 
 companions, the young man turned his horse into 
 the wood, and guided by the cries, which were 
 almost incessant, soon found himself in the vici- 
 nity of the place from which they proceeded. It 
 was a thick grove of beeches of the colossal 
 growth of the west, their stems as tall and straight 
 as the pines of the Alleghanies, and their boughs, 
 arched and pendulous like those of the elm, al- 
 most sweeping the earth below, over which they 
 cast shadows so dark that scarce any thing was 
 visible beneath them, save their hoary and spec- 
 tral trunks. 
 
 As Roland, followed by his little party, ap- 
 proached this spot, the cries of the unknown, and 
 as yet unseen, sufferer, fearful even at a distance, 
 grew into the wildest shrieks of fear, mingled with 
 groans, howls, broken prayers and execrations, 
 and half inarticulate expressions, now of fondling 
 entreaty, now of fierce and frantic command, that 
 seemed addressed to a second person hard by. 
 
 A thousand strange and appalling conceits had 
 crept into Roland's mind, when he first heard the 
 cries. One w^iile he almost fancied he had stum- 
 bled upon a gang of savages, w^ho were torturing 
 a prisoner to death ; another moment, he thought 
 the yells must proceed from some unlucky hunter, 
 perishing by inches in the grasp of a wild beast, 
 perhaps a bear or panther, with which animals it 
 was easy to believe the forest might abound. 
 With such horrible fancies oppressing his mind, 
 his surprise may be imagined, when, having 
 cocked his rifle and thrown open his holsters, to 
 be prepared for the worst, he rushed into the grove 
 and beheld a spectacle no more formidable than 
 was presented by a single individual, — a man in a 
 shaggy blanket-coat, — sitting on horseback under 
 one of the most venerable of the beeches, and ut- 
 10* 
 
114 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 tering those diabolical outcries that had alarmed 
 the party, for no imaginable purpose, as Roland 
 was at first inclined to suspect, unless for his own 
 private diversion. 
 
 A second look, however, convinced the soldier 
 that the wretched being had sufficient cause for 
 his clamour, being, in truth, in a situation almost 
 as dreadful as any Roland had imagined. His 
 arms were pinioned behind his back, and his neck 
 secured in a halter, (taken, as it appeared, from his 
 steed,) by which he was fastened to a large bough 
 immediately above his head, with nothing betwixt 
 him and death, save the horse on which he sat, — 
 a young and terrified beast, at whose slightest 
 start or motion, he must have swung oft' and pe- 
 rished, w^hile he possessed no means of restrain- 
 ing the animal whatever, except such as lay in 
 strength of leg and virtue of voice. 
 
 In this terrible situation, it was plain, he had 
 remained for a considerable period, his clothes 
 and hair (for his hat had fallen to the ground) 
 being saturated with rain; while his face purple 
 with blood, his eyes swollen and protruding from 
 their orbits with a most ghastly look of agony and 
 fear, showed how often the uneasiness of his horse, 
 round whose body his legs were wrapped with the 
 convulsive energy of despair, had brought him to 
 the very verge of strangulation. 
 
 The yells of mortal terror, for sucli they had 
 been, with which he had so long filled the forest, 
 were changed to shrieks of rapture, as soon as he 
 beheld-help approach in the person of the aston- 
 ished soldier. "Praised be the Etarnal!" he 
 roared ; " cut me loose, strannger! — Praised be the 
 Etarnal, and this here dumb beast ! — Cut me loose, 
 strannger, for the love of God !" 
 
 Such was Roland's intention; for which purpose 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 115 
 
 he had already clapped his hand to his sabre, to 
 employ it in a service more humane than any it 
 had previously known ; when, unfortunately, the 
 voice of the fellow did what his distorted counte- 
 nance had failed to do, and revealed to Roland's 
 indignant eyes the author of all his present diffi- 
 culties, the thief of the pinfold, the robber of 
 Brown Briareus, — in a word, the redoubtable 
 Captain Ralph Stackpole. 
 
 In a moment, Roland understood the mystery 
 which he had been before too excited to inquire 
 into. He remembered the hints of Bruce, and he 
 had learned enough of border customs and princi- 
 ples to perceive that the justice of the woods had 
 at last overtaken the horse-thief. The pursuing 
 party had captured him, — taken him in the very 
 manner, while still in possession of the ' two-year- 
 old pony,' and at once adjuged him to the penalty 
 prescribed by the border code, — tied his arms, 
 noosed him with the halter of the stolen horse, 
 and left him to swing, as soon as the animal should 
 be tired of supporting him. There was a kind of 
 dreadful poetical-justice in thus making the stolen 
 horse the thief's executioner : it gave the animal 
 himself an opportunity to wreak vengeance for all 
 wrongs received, and at the same time allowed his 
 captor the rare privilege of galloping on his back 
 into eternity. 
 
 Such was the mode of settling such offences 
 against the peace and dignity of the settlements ; 
 such was the way in which Stackpole had been 
 reduced to his unenviable situation; and, that all 
 passers-by might take note that the execution had 
 not been done without authority, there was paint- 
 ed upon the smooth white bark of the tree, in 
 large black letters, traced by a finger well charged 
 with moistened gun-powder, the ominous name — 
 
116 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 Judge Lynch, — the Rhadamanthus of the forest, 
 whose decisions are yet respected in the land, and 
 whose authority sometimes bids fair to supersede 
 that of all erring human tribunals. 
 
 Thus tied up, his rifle, knife, and ammunition 
 laid under a tree hard by, that he might have the 
 satisfaction, if satisfaction it could be, of knowing 
 they were in safety, the executioners had left him 
 to his fate, and ridden away long since, to attend 
 to other important affairs of the colony. 
 
 The moment that Roland understood in whose 
 service he was drawing his sword, a change came 
 over the spirit of his thoughts and feelings, and he 
 returned it very composedly to its sheath, — much 
 to the satisfaction of the negro. Emperor, who, 
 recognising the unfortunate Ralph at the same in- 
 stant, cried aloud, " 'Top, massa ! 't ar Captain 
 Stackpole, what stole Brown Briery ! Reckon I'll 
 touch the pony on the rib, hah 1 Hanging too 
 good for him, white niggah t'ief, hah !" 
 
 With that, the incensed negro made as if he 
 would have driven the pony from under the luck- 
 less Ralph ; but was prevented by his master, who, 
 taking a second survey of the spectacle, motioned 
 to the horror-struck females to retire, and pre- 
 pared himself to follow them. 
 
 " 'Tarnal death to you, captain ! you w^on't 
 leave me ?" cried Ralph, in terror. " Honour 
 bright ! Help him that needs help — that's the rule 
 for a Christian !" 
 
 " Villain !" said Roland, sternly, " I have no 
 help to give you. You are strung up according 
 to the laws of the settlements, with which I have 
 no desire to interfere. I am the last man you 
 should ask for pity." 
 
 " I don't ax your pity, 'tarnal death to me, — I 
 ax your help !"* roared Ralph : " Cut me loose is 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 117 
 
 the word, and then sw'ar at me atter ! I stole your 
 hoss thar : — well, whar's the harm 1 Didn't he 
 fling me, and kick me, and bite me into the bar- 
 gain, the cursed savage? and ar'n't you got him 
 ag'in as good as ever ? And besides, didn't that 
 etarnal old Bruce fob me off with a beast good 
 for nothing, and talk big to me besides ? and warn't 
 that all fa'r provocation? And didn't you yourself 
 sw'ar ag'in shaking paws with me, and treat me 
 as if I war no gentleman ? 'Tarnal death to me, 
 cut me loose, or I'll haunt you, when I'm a ghost, 
 I will, 'tarnal death to me 1" 
 
 " Cut him down, Roland, for Heaven's sake !" 
 said Edith, whom the surprise and terror of the 
 spectacle at first rendered speechless : " you sure- 
 ly, — no, Roland, you surely can't mean to leave 
 him to perish?" 
 
 " Upon my soul," said the soldier, and we are 
 sorry to record a speech representing him in a 
 light so unamiable, " I don't see what right I have 
 to release him ; and I really have not the least in- 
 clination to do so. The rascal is the cause of all 
 our difficulties; and, if evil should happen us, he 
 w^ill be the cause of that too. But for him, we 
 should be now safe with our party. And besides, 
 as I said before, he is hanged according to Ken- 
 tucky law; — a very good law, as far as it regards 
 horse-thieves, for whom hanging is too light a 
 punishment." 
 
 " Nevertheless, release him, — save the poor 
 wretch's life," reiterated Edith, to whom Stackpole, 
 perceiving in her his only friend, now addressed 
 the most piteous cries and supplications : " the law 
 is murderous, its makers and executioners barba- 
 rians. Save him, Roland I charge you, I entreat 
 you!" 
 
 <* He owes his life to your intercession," said 
 
118 NICK OF THE WOODS, 
 
 the soldier; and drawing his sabre again, but with 
 no apparent good will, he divided the halter by 
 which Ralph was suspended, and the wretch was 
 free. 
 
 " Cut the tug, the buffalo-tug!" shouted the cul- 
 prit, thrusting his arnas as far from his back as he 
 could, and displaying the thong of bison-skin, which 
 his struggles had almost buried in his flesh. A sin- 
 gle touch of the steel, rewarded by such a yell of 
 transport as was never before heard in those 
 savage retreats, sufficed to sever the bond ; and 
 Stackpole, leaping on the earth, began to testify 
 his joy in modes as novel as they w-ere frantic. 
 His first act was lo fling his arms round the neck 
 of his steed, which he hugged and kissed with the 
 most rapturous affection, doubtless in requital of 
 the docility it had shown when docility w^as so 
 necessary to its rider's life; his second, to leap 
 half a dozen times into the air, feeling his neck all 
 the time, and uttering the most singular and voci- 
 ferous cries, as if to make double trial of the con- 
 dition of his windpipe; his third, to bawl aloud, 
 directing the important question to the soldier, 
 *' How many days has it been since they hanged 
 me? War it to-day, or yesterday, or the day be- 
 fore? or war it a whole year ago? for may I be 
 next hung to the horn of a buffalo, instead of the 
 limb of a beech-tree, if I did n't feel as if I had 
 been squeaking thar ever since the beginning of 
 creation! Cock-a-doodle-doo! him that ar'nt born 
 to be hanged, won't be hanged, no-how!" Then 
 running to Edith, who sat watching his proceed- 
 ings with silent amazement, he flung himself on his 
 knees, seized the hem of her riding-habit, which 
 he kissed with the fervour of an adorei', exclaim- 
 ing with a vehement sincerity, that made the 
 whole action still more strangely ludicrous, " Oh ! 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 119 
 
 you splendiferous creatur' ! you anngeliferous 
 anngel! here am I, Ralph Stackpole the Scream- 
 er, that can whip all Kentucky, white, black, 
 mixed, and Injun; and I'm the man to go with 
 you to the ends of the 'arth, to fight, die, ^ork, 
 beg, and steal bosses for you! I am, and you may 
 make a little dog of me ; you may, or a niggur, or 
 a hoss, or a door-post, or a back-log, or a dinner, 
 — 'tarnal death to me, but you may eat me! Fm 
 the man to feel a favour, partickelarly when it 
 comes to helping me out of a halter ; and so jist 
 say the word who I shall lick, to begin on; for 
 I'm your slave jist as much as that niggur, to go 
 with you, as I said afore, to the ends of the 'arth, 
 and the length of Kentucky over!" 
 
 " Away with you, you scoundrel and jacka- 
 napes," said Roland, for to this ardent expression 
 of gratitude Edith was herself too much fright- 
 ened to reply. 
 
 "Strannger!" cried the oflended horse-thief, 
 " you cut the tug, and you cut the halter; and so, 
 though you did it only on hard axing, I'd take as 
 many hard words of you as you can pick out of a 
 dictionary, — I will, 'tarnal death to me. But as for 
 madam thar, the anngel, she saved my life, and I 
 go my death in her sarvice: and now's the time 
 to show sarvice, for tliar's danger abroad in the 
 forest." 
 
 "Danger!" echoed Roland, his anxiety banish- 
 ing the disgust with which he was so much in- 
 clined to regard the worthy horse-thief; " whnt 
 makes you say that?" 
 
 " Strannger," replied Ralph, with a lengthened 
 visage and a gravity somewhat surprising for him, 
 " I seed the Jibbenainosay ! 'tarnal death to me, 
 but I seed him as plain as ever I seed old Salt ! I 
 war a-hanging thar, and squeaking and cussing, 
 
120 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 and talking soft nonsense to the pony, to keep hini 
 out of his tantrums, when what should I sec but a 
 great crittur' come tramping through the forest, 
 right ofl' yander by the fallen oak, with a big b'ar 
 before him " 
 
 *' Pish !" said the soldier, " what has ihis to do 
 with danger?" 
 
 " Beca'se and because," said Ralph, " when you 
 see the Jibbenainosay, thar's always abbregynes* 
 in the cover. I never seed the crittur' before, but 
 I reckon it war he, for thar's nothing like him in 
 natur'. And so I'm for cutting out of the forest 
 jist on the track of a streak of lightning, — now 
 h'yar, now thar, but on a full run without stop- 
 ping. And so, if anngeliferous madam is willing, 
 thump me round the 'arth with a crab-apple, if I 
 don't holp her out of the bushes, and do all her 
 fighting into the bargain, — I will, 'tarnal death to 
 me !" 
 
 " You may go about your business," said Ro- 
 land, with as much sternness as contempt. " We 
 will have none of your base company." 
 
 " Whoop ! whoo, whoo, whoo ! don't riflef me, 
 for I'm danngerous !" yelled the demibarbarian, 
 springing on his stolen horse, and riding up to 
 Edith : *' Say the word, marm," he cried ; "for I'll 
 fight for you, or run for you, take scalp or cut 
 stick, shake fist or show leg, any thing in reason 
 or out of reason. Strannger thar's as brashj as 
 a new hound in a b'ar fight, or a young boss in a 
 corn-field, and no safe friend in a forest. Say the 
 word, marm, — or if you think it ar'nt manners to 
 speak to a strannger, jist shake your little finger, 
 and ril follow like a dog, and do you dog's sar- 
 
 * Ahhregynes — aborigines. -j- To rifle, — to ruffle. 
 
 i Brash, — rash, headstrong-, over-vahant. 
 
 I 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 121 
 
 vice. Or if you don't like me, say the word, or 
 shake t'other finger, and 'tarnal death to me, but 
 I'll be off like an elk of the prairies !" 
 
 " You may go," said Edith, not at all solicitous 
 to retain a follower of Mr. Stackpole's cha- 
 racter and conversation : " we have no occasion 
 for your assistance." 
 
 " Fawwell !" said Ralph ; and turning, and giv- 
 ing his pony a thump with his fist and a kick with 
 each heel, and uttering a shrill whoop, he darted 
 away through the forest, and was soon out of 
 sight. 
 
 VOL. I. — 11 
 
122 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The course of Stackpole was through the 
 woods, in a direction immediately opposite to that 
 by which Roland had ridden to his assistance. 
 
 " He is going to the Lower Ford," said Telie, 
 anxiously. " It is not too late for us to follow 
 him. If there are Indians in the wood, it is the 
 only way to escape them !" 
 
 " And why should we believe there are Indians 
 in the wood?' demanded Roland; "because that 
 half-mad rogue, made still madder by his terrors, 
 saw something which his fancy converted into the 
 imaginary Nick of the Woods'? You must give 
 me a better reason than that, my good Telie, if 
 you would have me desert the road. — I have no 
 faith in your Jibbenainosays." 
 
 But a better reason than her disinclination to 
 travel it, and her fears lest, if Indians were 
 abroad, they would be found lying in ambush at 
 the upper and more frequented pass of the river, 
 the girl had none to give; and, in consequence, 
 Roland, (though secretly w^ondering at her perti- 
 nacity, and still connecting it in thought with his 
 oft-remembered dream,) expressing some impa- 
 tience at the delays they had already experienced, 
 led the way back to the buffalo-road, resolved to 
 prosecute it with vigour. But Fate had prepared 
 for him other and more serious obstructions. 
 
 He had scarce regained the path, before lie be- 
 came sensible, from the tracks freshly printed in 
 the damp earth, that a horseman, coming from the 
 
NJICK OF THE WOODS. 123 
 
 very river towards which he was bending his 
 way, had passed by, whilst he was engaged in the 
 wood Hberating the horse-thief. This was a cir- 
 cumstance that both pleased and annoyed him. 
 It was so far agreeable, as it seemed to offer the 
 best proof that the road was open, with none of 
 those dreadful savages about it, who had so long 
 haunted the brain of Telle Doe. But what chiefly 
 concerned the young soldier was the knowledge 
 that he had lost an opportunity of inquiring after 
 his friends, and ascertaining whether they had re- 
 ally pitched their camp on the banks of the river; 
 a circumstance which he now rather hoped than 
 dared to be certain of, the tempest not seeming 
 to have been so violent in that quarter, as, of a 
 necessity, to bring the company to a halt. If they 
 had not encamped in the expected place, but, on 
 the contrary, had continued their course to the 
 appointed Station, he saw nothing before him but 
 the gloomy prospect of concluding his journey 
 over an unknown road, after night-fall, or return- 
 ing to the Station he had left, also by night; for 
 much time had been lost by the various delays, 
 and the day was now declining fast. 
 
 These considerations threw a damp over his 
 spirits, but taught him the necessity of activity; 
 and he was, accordingly, urging his little party 
 forward with such speed as he could, when there 
 was suddenly heard at a distance on the rear the 
 sound of fire-arms, as if five or six pieces were 
 discharged together, followed by cries not less 
 wild and alarming than those uttered by the de- 
 spairing horse-thief. 
 
 These bringing the party to a stand, the quick 
 ears of the soldier detected the rattling of hoofs 
 on the road behind, and presently there came 
 rushing towards them with furious speed a soli- 
 
124 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 tary horseman, his head bare, his locks streaming 
 in the wind, and his whole appearance betraying 
 the extremity of confusion and terror; which was 
 the more remarkable, as he was well mounted, 
 and armed with the usual rifle, knife, and hatchet 
 of the back-woodsman. He looked as if flying 
 from pursuing foes, his eyes being cast backwards, 
 and that so eagerly, that he failed to notice the 
 party of wondering strangers drawn up before 
 him on the road, until saluted by a halloo from 
 Roland ; at which he checked his steed, looking 
 for an instant ten times more confounded and 
 frightened than before. 
 
 " You tarnation critturs !" he at last baw^led, 
 with the accents of one driven to desperation, " if 
 there a'n't no dodging you, then there a^n't. Here's 
 for you, you everlasting varmints — due your darn- 
 dest!" 
 
 With that, he clubbed his rifle, and advanced 
 towards the party in what seemed a paroxysm of 
 insane fury, brandishing the w^eapon and rolling 
 his eyes with a ferocity that could have only 
 arisen from his being in that happy frame of miad 
 which is properly termed " frighted out of fear." 
 
 " How, you villain !" said Roland, in amaze- 
 ment, "do you take us for wild Indians'?" 
 
 "What, by the holy hokey, and a'liH you?" 
 cried the stranger, his rage giving way to the 
 most lively transports ; " Christian men !" he ex- 
 claimed in admiration, '• and one of 'em a niggur, 
 and two of 'em wimming! oh hokey! You're 
 Capting Forrester, and I've heerd on you ! Thought 
 there was nothing in the wood but Injuns, blast 
 their ugly picturs! and blast him, Sy Jones as 
 was, that brought me among em ! And now I'm 
 talking of 'em, Capting, don't stop to ax questions, 
 but run, — cut and run, Capting, for there's an 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 125 
 
 everlasting sight of 'em behind me! — six of 'em^ 
 Capting, or my name a'n't Pardon Dodge, — six of 
 em, — all except one, and him I shot, the blasted 
 crittur! for, you see, they followed me behind, 
 and they cut me off before; and there was no 
 dodging 'em, — (Dodge's my name, and dodg- 
 ing's my natur',) — without gitting lost in the 
 w^oods; and it was either losing myself or my 
 scalp; and so that riz my ebenezer, and I banged 
 the first of 'em all to smash, — if I did'nt, then it 
 a'n't no matter!" 
 
 " What, in heaven's name," said Roland, over- 
 come by the man's volubility and alarm together, 
 — "what means all this? Are there Indians be- 
 hind us ?" 
 
 " Five of 'em, and the dead feller, — shocking 
 long-legged crittur he was; jumped out of a bush, 
 and seized me by the bridle — hokey! how he 
 skeared me ! — Gun w ent off of her own accord, and 
 shot him into bits as small as fourpence-ha'pennies. 
 Then there was a squeaking and squalling, and 
 the hull of 'em let fly at me; and then I cut on the 
 back track, and they took and took atter; and, I 
 calculate, if we wait here a quarter of a minute 
 longer, they will be on us jist like devils and roar- 
 ing lions. — But where shall we run? You can't 
 gin us a hint how to make way through the woods? 
 — Shocking bad woods to be lost in! Bad place 
 here for talking, Capting, — right 'twixt two fires, 
 — six Injuns behind (and one of 'em dead,) and an 
 almighty passel before, — the Ford's full on 'em !" 
 
 "What!" said Roland, "did you pass the Ford? 
 and is not Colonel Johnson, with his emigrants, 
 there?" 
 
 "Not a man on 'em ; saw 'em streaking through 
 the mud, half way to Jackson's. Everlasting ly- 
 ing critturs, them emigrants! told me there was 
 11* 
 
126 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 no Injuns on the road: when what should I do 
 but see a hull grist on 'em dodging among the 
 bushes at the river, to surround me, the tarnation 
 critturs. But I kinder had the start on 'em, and 
 1 w^hipped and I cut, and I run, and I dodged. 
 And so says I, ' I've beat you, you tarnation, 
 scalping varmints !' w4ien up jumps that long-leg- 
 ged feller, and the five behind him; and, blast 
 'em, that riz my corruption. And I " 
 
 " In a word," said Roland, impatiently, and 
 with a stern accent, assumed perhaps to reassure 
 his kinswoman, w^hom the alarming communica- 
 tions of the stranger, uttered in an agony of terror 
 and haste, filled with an agitation which she could 
 not conceal, " you have seen Indians, or you say 
 you have. If you tell the truth, there is no time 
 left for deliberation ; if a falsehood " 
 
 " Why should we wait upon the road to ques- 
 tion and w^onder?" said Telle Doe, with a bold- 
 ness and firmness that at another moment would 
 have excited surprise ; "why should we wait here, 
 while the Indians may be approaching? The fo- 
 rest is open, and the Lower Ford is free." 
 
 " If you can yet lead us thither," said Roland, 
 eagerly, "all is not yet lost. We can neither ad- 
 vance nor return. On, maiden, for the love of 
 Heaven!" 
 
 These hasty expressions revealed to Edith the 
 deep and serious light in which her kinsman re- 
 garded their present situation, though at first seek- 
 ing to hide his anxiety under a veil of composure. 
 In fact, there was not an individual present, on 
 whom the fatal new^s of the vicinity of the red- 
 man had produced a more alarming impression 
 than on Roland. Young, brave, acquainted with 
 war, and accustomed to scenes of blood and peril, 
 it is not to be supposed that he entertained fear on 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 127 
 
 his own account; but the presence of one whom 
 he loved, and whom he would have rescued from 
 danger at any moment, at the sacrifice of his own 
 life thrice over, was enough to cause, and excuse, 
 a temporary fainting of spirit, and a desire to fly 
 the scene of peril, of which, under any other 
 circumstances, he would have been heartily 
 ashamed. The suddenness of the terror — for up 
 to the present moment he had dreamed of no dif- 
 ficulty comprising danger, or of no danger imply- 
 ing the presence of savages in the forest, — had 
 somewhat shocked his mind from its propriety, 
 and left him in a manner unfitted to exercise the 
 decision and energy so necessary to the welfare 
 of his feeble and well nigh helpless followers. 
 The vastness of his embarrassment, all disclosed at 
 once, — his friends and fellow emigrants now far 
 away; the few miles which he had, to the last, 
 hoped separated him from them, converted into 
 leagues; Indian enemies at hand; advance and 
 retreat both alike cut oft'; and night approaching 
 fast, in which, without a guide, any attempt to re- 
 treat through the wild forest would be as likely to 
 secure his destruction as deliverance; — these were 
 circumstances that crowded into fiis mind with 
 benumbing eftect, ei>grossing his faculties, when 
 the most active use of them was essential to the 
 preservation of his party. 
 
 It was at this moment of weakness and confu- 
 sion, while uttering what was meant to throw 
 some little discredit over the story of Dodge, to 
 abate the terrors of Edith, that the words of Telle 
 Doe fell on his ears, bringing both aid and hope 
 to his embarrassed spirits. She, at least, was ac- 
 quainted with the woods; she, at least, could con- 
 duct him, if not to the fortified Station he had 
 left, (and bitterly now did he regret having left it,) 
 
128 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 to the neglected ford of the river, which her for- 
 mer attempts to lead him thither, and the memory 
 of his dream, caused him now to regard as a city 
 of refuge pointed out by destiny itself. 
 
 " Yous hall have your w^ay at last, fair Telie," 
 he said, with a laugh, but not of merriment: "Fate 
 speaks for you; and whether I will or not, we 
 must to the Lower Ford." 
 
 " You will never repent it," said the girl, the 
 bright looks which she had worn for the few" mo- 
 ments she w^as permitted to controul the motions 
 of the party, returning to her visage, and seeming 
 to emanate from a rejoicing spirit; — "they will 
 not think of waylaying us at the Lower Ford !" 
 
 With that, she darted into the wood, and, fol- 
 lowed by the others, including the new-comer, 
 Dodge, w^as soon at a considerable distance from 
 the road. 
 
 " Singular," said Roland to Edith, at whose 
 rein he now rode, endeavouring to remove her 
 terrors, which, though she uttered no words, were 
 manifestly overpowering, — " singular that the girl 
 should look so glad and fearless, while we are, I 
 believe, all horribly frightened. It is, however, a 
 good omen. When one so timorous as she casts 
 aside fear, there is little reason for others to be 
 frighted." 
 
 "I hope, — I hope so," murmured Edith. "But 
 — but I have had my omens, Roland, and they 
 were evil ones. I dreamed You smile at 
 
 me 
 
 I" 
 
 " I do," said the soldier, " and not more at your 
 joyless tones, my fair cousin, than at the coinci- 
 dence of our thoughts. / dreamed (for I also 
 have had my visions,) last night, that some one 
 came to me and w^hispered in my ear ' to cross 
 the river at the Lower Ford,' the Upper being 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 129 
 
 dangerous.' Verily, I shall hereafter treat my 
 dreams with respect. I suppose, — I hope, were it 
 only to prove w^e have a good angel in common, 
 — that you dreamed the same thing?' 
 
 "No, — it was not that," said Edith, "with a 
 sad and anxious countenance. " It was a dream 
 that has always been followed by evil. I dreamed 
 . But it will offend you, cousin?" 
 
 " What !" said Roland, " a dream? You dream- 
 ed perhaps that I forgot both wisdom and affec- 
 tion, when, for the sake of this worthless beast, 
 Briareus, I drew you into difficulty and peril ?" 
 
 " No, no," said Edith, earnestly, and then added 
 in a low voice, "I dreamed of Richard Braxley!" 
 
 " Curse him !" muttered the youth, with tones 
 of bitter passion: "it is to him we owe all that 
 now afflicts us, — poverty and exile, our distresses 
 and difficulties, our fears and our dangers. For 
 a wooer," he added, with a smile of equal bitter- 
 ness, " methinks he has fallen on but a rough way 
 of proving his regard. But you dreamed of him. 
 Well, what was it ? He came to you, with the 
 look of a beaten dog, fawned at your feet, and 
 displaying that infernal will, ' Marry me,' quoth 
 he, ' fair maid, and I will be a greater rascal than 
 before, — I will burn this will, and consent to enjoy 
 Roland Forrester's lands and houses in right of 
 my wife, instead of claiming them in trust for an 
 heir no longer in the land of the hving.' Cur!— 
 and but for you, Edith, I w^ould have repaid his 
 insolence as it deserved. But you ever intercede 
 for your worst enemies. There is that confound- 
 ed Stackpole, now : I vow to heaven, I am sorry 
 I cut the rascal down ! — But you dreamed of 
 Braxley! What said the villain ?" 
 
 " He said," replied Edith, who had Kstened 
 mournfully, but in silence, to the young man's 
 
130 NICK OF THE WOODS- 
 
 hasty expressions, like one who was too well ac- 
 quainted with the impetuosity of his temper, to 
 think of opposing him in his angry moments, or 
 perhaps because her spirits were too much sub- 
 dued by her fears to allow her to play the moni- 
 tress, — " He said, and frowningly, too, that ' soft 
 words were with him the prelude to hard resolu- 
 tions, and that where he could not win as the tur- 
 tle, he could take his prey like a vulture-/ — or 
 some such words of anger. Now, Roland, I have 
 twice before dreamed of this man, and on each 
 occasion a heavy calamity ensued, and that on 
 the following day. I dreamed of him the night 
 before our uncle died. I drenmed a second time, 
 and the next day he produced and recorded the 
 will that robbed us of our inheritance. I dreamed 
 of him again last night; and what evil is now 
 hovering over us, I know not, but, — it is foolish 
 of me to say so, — yet my fears tell me it will be 
 something dreadful.'^ 
 
 "Your fears, I hope, will deceive you," said 
 Roland, smiling in spite of himself at this little 
 display of weakness on the part of Edith. " I 
 have much confidence in this girl, Telle, though I 
 can scarce tell why. A free road and a round 
 gallop will carry us to our journey's end by night- 
 fall ; and, at the worst, we shall have bright star- 
 Hght to light us on. Be comforted, my cousin. I 
 begin heartily to suspect yon cowardly Dodge, or 
 Dodger, or whatever he calls himself, has been 
 imposed upon by his fears, and that he has ac- 
 tually seen no Indians at all. The springing up 
 of a bush from under his horse's feet, and the 
 starting away of a dozen frighted rabbits, might 
 easily explain his conceit of the long-legged In- 
 dian, and his five murderous accomplices; and 
 as for the savages seen in ambush at the Ford. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 131 
 
 the shaking of the cane-brake by the breeze, or by 
 .some skulking bear, would as readily account for 
 them. The idea of his being allowed to pass a 
 crew of Indians in their lair, without being pur- 
 sued, or even fired on, is quite preposterous." 
 
 These ideas, perhaps devised to dispel his kins- 
 woman's fears, were scarce uttered before they 
 appeared highly reasonable to the inventor him- 
 self; and he straightway rode to Dodge's side, 
 and began to question him more closely than he 
 had before had leisure to do, in relation to those 
 wondrous adventures, the recounting of which 
 had produced so serious a change in the destina- 
 tion of the party. All his efforts, however, to ob- 
 tain satisfactory confirmation of his suspicion were 
 unavailing. The man, now in a great measure 
 reheved of his terrors, repeated his story with a 
 thousand details, which convinced Roland that it 
 was, in its chief features, correct. That he had 
 actually been attacked, or fired upon by some per- 
 sons, Roland could not doubt, having heard the 
 shots himself. As to the ambush at the Ford, all 
 he could say was, that he had actually seen seve- 
 ral Indians, — he knew not the number, — stealing 
 through the wood in the direction opposite the 
 river, as if on the outlook for some expected par- 
 ty, — Captain Forrester's, he supposed, of which 
 he had heard among the emigrants ; and that this 
 giving him the advantage of the first discovery, 
 he had darted ahead with all his speed, until 
 arrested at an unexpected moment by the six 
 warriors, whose guns and voices had been heard 
 by the party. 
 
 Besides communicating all the information 
 which he possessed on these points, he proceeded 
 without waiting to be asked, to give an account 
 of his own history ; and a very lamentable one it 
 
132 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 was. He was from the Down-East country, a 
 representative of the Bay State, from which he 
 had been seduced by the arguments of his old 
 friend Josiah Jones, to go 'a pedlering' with the 
 latter to the new settlements in the West ; where 
 the situation of the colonists, so far removed from 
 all markets, promised uncommon advantages to 
 the adventurous trader. These had been in a 
 measure realized on the upper Ohio; but the pros- 
 pect of superior gains in Kentucky had tempted 
 the two friends to extend their speculations fur- 
 ther; and in an evil hour they embarked their 
 assorted notions and their own bodies in a flat- 
 boat on the Ohio ; in the descent of which it was 
 their fortune to be stripped of every thing, after 
 enduring risks without number and daily attacks 
 from Indians lying in wait on the banks of the 
 river; which misadventures had terminated in the 
 capture of their boat, and the death of Josiah, the 
 unlucky projector of the expedition, Pardon him- 
 self barely escaping with his life. These calami- 
 ties were the more distasteful to the w^orthy 
 Dodge, whose inclinations were of no warlike 
 cast, and whose courage never rose to the fight- 
 ing point, as he freely professed, until goaded into 
 action by sheer desperation. He had 'got enough,' 
 as he said, ' of the everlasting Injuns, and of Ken- 
 tucky, where there was such a shocking deal of 
 'em, that a peaceable trader's scalp was in no 
 more security than a rambling scout's;' and, curs- 
 ing his bad luck and the memory of the friend 
 who had cajoled him into ruin, difliculty, and con- 
 stant danger, his sole desire was now to return to 
 the safer lands of the East, which he expected to 
 effect most advantageously by advancing to some 
 of the South-eastern stations, and throwing him- 
 self in the way of the first band of militia, whose 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 138 
 
 tour of duty in the District was completed, and who 
 should be about to return to their native State. 
 He had got enough of the Ohio, as well as the 
 Indians ; the wilderness-road possessed fewer ter- 
 rors, and, therefore, appeared to his imagination 
 the more eligible route of escape. 
 
 VOL. I.--12 
 
134 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Dodge's story, which was not without its inte- 
 rest to Roland, though the rapidity of their pro- 
 gress through the woods, and the constant neces- 
 sity of being on the alert, kept him a somewhat 
 inattentive listener, was brought to an abrupt close 
 by the motions of Telle Doe, who, having guided 
 the party for several miles with great confidence, 
 began at last to hesitate, and betray symptoms of 
 doubt and embarrassment, that attracted the sol- 
 dier's attention. There seemed some cause for 
 hesitation: the glades, at first broad and open, 
 through which they had made their way, were 
 becoming smaller and more frequently interrupted 
 by copses ; the wood grew denser and darker ; the 
 surface of the ground became broken by rugged 
 ascents and swampy hollows, the one encumbered 
 by stones and mouldering trunks of trees, the 
 other converted by the rains into lakes and pools, 
 through which it was difficult to find a path; 
 whilst the constant turning and winding to right 
 and left, to avoid such obstacles, made it a still 
 greater task to preserve the line of direction which 
 Telle had intimated was the proper one to pursue. 
 'Was it possible,' he asked of himself, 'the girl 
 could be at fault?' The answer to this question, 
 when addressed to Telle herself, confirmed his 
 fears. She was perplexed, she was frightened ; 
 she had been long expecting to strike the neglect- 
 ed road, with which she professed to be so well 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. * 135 
 
 acquainted, find, sure she was, they had ridden far 
 enough to find it. But the hills and swamps had 
 confused her; she was afraid to proceed, — she 
 knew not where she was. 
 
 This announcenaent filled the young soldier's 
 mind with alarm ; for upon Telie's knowledge of 
 the woods he had placed his best reliance, con- 
 scious that his own experience in such matters 
 was as little to be depended on as that of any of 
 his companions. Yet it was necessary he should 
 now assume the lead himself, and do his best to 
 rescue the party from its difficulties; and this, 
 after a little reflection, he thought he could scarce 
 fail in effecting. The portion of the forest through 
 which he was rambling w^as a kind of triangle, 
 marked by the two roads on the east, with its base 
 bounded by the long looked for river; and one of 
 these boundaries he must strike, proceed in what- 
 soever direction he would. If he persevered in the 
 course he had followed so long, he must of neces- 
 sity find himself, sooner or later, in the path 
 which Telie had failed to discover, and failed, as 
 he supposed, in consequence of wandering away 
 to the west, so as to keep it constantly on the right 
 hand, instead of in front. To recover it, then, all 
 that was necessary to be done was to direct his 
 course to the right, and to proceed until the road 
 was found. 
 
 The reasoning was just, and the probability was 
 that a few moments would find the party on the 
 recovered path. But a half-hour passed by, and 
 the travellers, all anxious and doubting and filled 
 with gloom, w^ere yet stumbling in the forest, 
 winding amid labyrinths of bog and brake, hill 
 and hollow, that every moment became wilder 
 and more perplexing. To add to their alarm, it 
 was manifest that the day was fast approaching 
 
136 NICK OF THE W00D3. 
 
 its close. The sun had set, or was so low in the 
 heavens that not a single ray could be seen trem- 
 bling on the tallest tree ; and thus was lost the 
 only means of deciding towards what quarter of the 
 compass they were directing their steps. The 
 mosses on the trees were appealed to in vain, — as 
 they will be by all who expect to find them point- 
 ing, like the mariner's needle, to the pole. They 
 indicate the quarter from which blow the prevail- 
 ing humid winds of any region of country ; but in 
 the moist and dense forests of the interior, they 
 are often equally luxuriant on every side of the 
 tree. The varying shape and robustness of boughs 
 are thought to offer a better means of finding the 
 points of the compass ; but none but Indians, and 
 hunters grown gray in the woods, can profit by 
 their occult lessons. The attempts of Roland to 
 draw instruction from them served only to com- 
 plete his confusion ; and, by and by, giving over 
 all hope of succeeding through any exercise of 
 skill or prudence, he left the matter to fortune and 
 his good horse, riding, in the obstinacy of despair, 
 whithersoever the weary animal chose to bear 
 him, without knowing whether it might be afar 
 from danger, or backwards into the vicinity of the 
 very enemies whom he had laboured so long to 
 avoid. 
 
 As he advanced in this manner, he was once or 
 twice inclined to suspect that he was actually re- 
 tracing his steps, and approaching the path by 
 which he had entered the depths of the wood ; and 
 on one occasion he was almost assured that such 
 was the fact by the peculiar appearance of a 
 brambly thicket, containing many dead trees, 
 which he thought he had noticed while following 
 in confidence after the leading of Telle Doe. A 
 nearer approach to the place convinced him of his 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 137 
 
 error, but awoke a new hope in his mind, by show- 
 ing him that he was drawing nigh the haunts of 
 men. The blazes of the axe were seen on the 
 trees, running away in Hnes, as if marked by the 
 hands of the surveyor; those trees that were 
 dead, he observed, had been destroyed by gird- 
 hng ; and on the edge of the tangled brake where 
 they were most abundant, he noticed several 
 stalks of maize, the relics of some former harvest, 
 the copse itself having once been, as he supposed, 
 a corn-field. 
 
 "It is only a tomahawk-improvement," said 
 Telie Doe, shaking her head, as he turned towards 
 her a look of joyous inquiry ; and she pointed to- 
 wards what seemed to have been once a cabin of 
 logs of the smallest size, — too small indeed for ha- 
 bitation, — but which, more than half fallen down, 
 was rotting away, half hidden under the weeds 
 and brambles that grew, and seemed to have 
 grown for years, within its little area ; " there are 
 many of them in the woods, that were never 
 settled." 
 
 Roland did not require to be informed that a 
 ' tomahawk-improvement,' as it was often called 
 in tlibse days, meant nothing more than the box 
 of logs in form of a cabin, which the hunter or 
 land-speculator could build with his hatchet in a 
 few hours, a few girdled trees, a dozen or more 
 groins of corn from his pouch thrust into the soil, 
 with perhaps a few poles laid along the earth to 
 indicate an enclosed field ; and that such improve- 
 ments, as they gave pre-emption rights to the 
 maker, were often established by adventurers, to 
 secure a claim, in the event of their not lighting 
 on lands more to their liking. Years had evi- 
 dently passed by since the maker of this neglected 
 improvement had visited his territory, and Roland 
 
 2* 
 
138 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 no longer hoped to discover such signs about it as 
 might enable him to recover his lost way. His 
 spirits sunk as rapidly as they had risen, and he 
 was preparing to make one more effort to escape 
 from the forest, while the day-light yet lasted, or 
 to find some stronghold in which to pass the 
 night; when his attention was drawn to Telle 
 Doe, who had ridden a little in advance, eagerly 
 scanning the trees and soil around, in the hope 
 that some ancient mark or footstep might point 
 out a mode of escape. As she thus looked about 
 her, moving slowly in advance, her pony on a 
 sudden began to snort and prance, and betray 
 other indications of terror, and Telle herself was 
 seen to become agitated and alarmed, retreating 
 back upon the party, but keeping her eyes wildly 
 rolling from bush to bush, as if in instant expecta- 
 tion of seeing an enemy. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" cried Roland, riding 
 to her assistance. " Are we in enchanted land, that 
 our horses must be frightened, as well as our- 
 selves?' 
 
 " He smells the war-paint," said Telle, with a 
 trembling voice; — " there are Indians near us !" 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Roland, looking around, and 
 seeing, with the exception of the copse just passed, 
 nothing but an open forest, without shelter or har- 
 bour for an ambushed foe. — But at that moment 
 Edith caught him by the arm, and turned upon 
 him a countenance more wan with fear than that 
 she had exhibited upon first hearing the cries of 
 Stackpole. It expressed, indeed, more than alarm, 
 — it was the highest degree of terror, and the 
 feehng was so overpowering, that her lips, though 
 moving as in the act of speech, gave forth no 
 sound whatever. But what her lips refused to 
 tell, her finger, though shaking in the ague that 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 139 
 
 convulsed every fibre of her frame, pointed out; 
 and Roland, following it with his eyes, beheld the 
 object that had excited so much emotion. He 
 started himself, as his gaze fell upon a naked In- 
 dian stretched under a tree hard by, and sheltered 
 from view only by a dead bough lately fallen from 
 its trunk, yet lying so still and motionless, that he 
 might easily have been passed by without obser- 
 vation in the growing dusk and twilight of the 
 woods, had it not been for the instinctive terrors 
 of the pony, which, like other horses, and, indeed, 
 all other domestic beasts in the settlements, often 
 thus pointed out to their masters the presence of 
 an enemy. 
 
 The rifle of the soldier was in an instant cocked 
 and at his shoulder, while the pedler and Empe- 
 ror, as it happened, were too much discomposed 
 at the spectacle to make any such show of battle. 
 They gazed blankly upon the leader, whose piece, 
 settling down into an aim that must have been 
 fatal, suddenly wavered, and then, to their sur- 
 prise, was withdrawn. 
 
 " The slayer has been here before us,'* he 
 exclaimed, — " the man is dead and scalped al- 
 ready !" 
 
 With these words, he advanced to the tree, and 
 the others following, they beheld with horror, the 
 body of a savage of vast and noble proportions, 
 lying on its face across the roots of the tree, and 
 glued, it might almost be said, to the earth by a 
 mass of coagulated blood, thaU had issued from 
 the scalped and axe-cloven skull. The fragments 
 of a rifle, shattered, as it seemed, by a violent blow 
 against the tree under which he lay, were scatter- 
 ed at his side, with a broken powder-horn, a splin- 
 tered knife, the helve of a tomahawk, and other 
 equipments of a warrior, all in Hke manner shiv- 
 
140 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 ered to pieces by the unknown assassin. Tfi^ 
 warrior seemed to have perished only after a fear- 
 ful struggle ; the earth was torn where he lay, 
 and his hands, yet grasping the soil, were dyed 
 a double red in the blood of his antagonist, or 
 perhaps in his own. 
 
 While Roland gazed upon the spectacle, amaz- 
 ed, and wondering in what manner the wretched 
 being had met his death, which must have ha])- 
 pened very recently, and whilst his party was 
 within the sound of a rifle-shot, he observed a 
 shudder to creep over the apparently lifeless 
 frame ; the fingers relaxed their grasp of the 
 earth, and then clutched it again with violence; a 
 broken, strangling rattle came from the throat ; 
 and a spasm of convulsion seizing upon every 
 limb, it was suddenly raised a little upon one arnu 
 so as to display the countenance, covered with 
 blood, the eyes retroverted into their orbits, and 
 glaring with the sightless whites. It was a horri- 
 ble spectacle, — the last convulsion of many that 
 had shaken the wretched and insensible, yet still 
 suffering clay, since it had received its death- 
 stroke. The spasm was the last, and but mo- 
 mentary ; yet it sufficed to raise the body of the 
 mangled barbarian so far that, when the pang that 
 excited it suddenly ceased, and, with it, the life of 
 the sufferer, the body rolled over on the back, and 
 thus lay, exposing to the eyes of the lookers-on 
 two gashes wide and gory on the breast, traced 
 by a sharp knife and a powerful hand, and, as it 
 seemed, in the mere wantonness of a malice and 
 lust of blood which even death could not satisfy. 
 The sight of these gashes answered the question 
 Roland had asked of his own imagination; they 
 were in the form of a cross; and as the legend, so 
 long derided, of the forest-fiend recurred to his 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 141 
 
 memory, he responded, almost with a feeling of 
 superstitious awe, to the trembling cry of Tehe 
 Doe:— 
 
 " It is the Jibbenainosay !" she exclaimed, star- 
 ing upon the corse with mingled horror and won- 
 der; — "Nick of the Woods is up again in the 
 forest !" 
 
142 NICK OF THE WOOI>S» 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 There was little really superstitious in the tem- 
 per of Captain Forrester; and however his mind 
 might be at first stirred by the discovery of a 
 victim of the redoubted fiend so devoutly believed 
 in by his host of the preceding evening, it is cer- 
 tain that his credulity was not so much excited ap 
 his surprise. He sprang from his horse and ex- 
 amined the body, but looked in vain for the mark 
 of the bullet that had robbed it of life. No gun- 
 shot wound, at least none of importance, appeared 
 in any part. There was, indeed, a bullet-hole in 
 the left shoulder^ and, as it seemed, very recently 
 inflicted : but it was bound up with leaves and 
 vulnerary herbs, in the usual Indian w^ay, showing 
 that it must have been received at some period 
 anterior to the attack which had robbed the war- 
 rior of life. The gashes across the ribs were the 
 only other wounds on the body ; that on the head, 
 made by a hatchet, was evidently the one that had 
 caused the warrior's death. 
 
 If this circumstance abated the wonder the 
 soldier had first felt on the score of a man being 
 killed at so short a distance from his own party, 
 without any one hearing the shot, he was still 
 more at a loss to know how one of the dead man's 
 race, proverbial for wariness and vigilance, should 
 have been approached by any merely human 
 enemy so nigh as to render fire-arms unnecessary 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 143 
 
 to his destruction. But that a human enemy had 
 effected the slaughter, inexpHcable as it seemed, 
 he had no doubt; and he began straightway to 
 search among the leaves strewn over the ground, 
 for the marks of iiis foot-steps; not questioning 
 that, if he could find and follow them for a little 
 distance, he should discover the author of the 
 deed, and, w^hich was of more moment to him- 
 self, a friend and guide to conduct his party from 
 the forest 
 
 His search was, however, fruitless; for, whether 
 it was that the shadows of evening lay too dark 
 on the ground, or that eyes more accustomed than 
 his own to such duties were required to detect a 
 trail among dried forest leaves, it was certain that 
 he failed to discover a single footstep, or other 
 vestige of the slayer. Nor were Pardon Dodge 
 and Emperor, whom he summoned to his assist- 
 ance, a whit more successful ; a circumstance, 
 however, that rathered proved their inexperience 
 than the supernatural character of the Jibbenain- 
 osay, whose foot-prints, as it appeared, were not 
 more ditficult to find than those of the dead Indian, 
 for which they sought equally in vain. 
 
 While they were thus fruitlessly engaged, an 
 exclamation from Telle Doe drew their attention 
 to a spectacle, suddenly observed, which, to her 
 awe-struck eyes, presented the appearance of the 
 very being, so truculent yet supernatural, whose 
 traces, it seemed, w^ere to be discovered only on 
 the breasts of his lifeless victims; and Roland, 
 looking up, beheld with surprise, perhaps even for 
 a moment with the stronger feeling of awe, a 
 figure stalking through the woods at a distance, 
 looking as tall and gigantic in the growing twi- 
 light, as the airy demon of the Brocken, or the 
 equally colossal spectres seen on the wild summits 
 
144 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 of the Peruvian Andes. Distance and the dark- 
 ness together rendered the vision indistinct ; but 
 Roland could see that the form was human, that 
 it moved onwards with rapid strides, and with its 
 countenance bent upon the earth, or upon another 
 moving object, dusky and of lesser size, that rolled 
 before it, guiding the way, like the bowl of the 
 dervise in the Arabian story ; and, finally, that it 
 held in its hands, as if on the watch for an enemy, 
 an implement wondrously like the firelock of a 
 human fighting-man. At first, it appeared as if 
 the figure was approaching the party, and that in 
 a direct line ; but presently Roland perceived it 
 was gradually bending its course away to the 
 left, its eyes still so closely fixed on its dusky 
 guide, — the very bear, as Roland supposed, which 
 was said so often to direct the steps of the Jib- 
 benainosay, — that it seemed as if about to pass 
 the party entirely without observation. 
 
 But this it made no part of the young soldier's 
 resolutions to permit ; and, accordingly, he sprang 
 upon his horse, determined to ride forwards and 
 bring the apparition to a stand, while it was yet at 
 a distance. 
 
 "Man or devil, Jibbenainosay or rambling set- 
 tler," he cried, " it is, at least, no Indian, and there- 
 fore no enemy. Holla, friend!" he exclaimed 
 aloud, and dashed forward, followed, though not 
 without hesitation, by his companions. 
 
 At the sound of his voice the spectre started and 
 looked up; and then, without betraying either 
 surprise or a disposition to beat a mysterious re- 
 treat, advanced to meet the soldier, walking ra- 
 pidly, and waving its hand all the while with an 
 impatient gesture, as if commanding the party to 
 halt ; — a command which was immediately obey- 
 ed by Roland and all. 
 
NICK or THE WOODS. 145 
 
 And now it was, that, as it drew nigh, its stature 
 appeared to grow less and less colossal, and the 
 wild lineaments with which fancy had invested it, 
 faded from sight, leaving the phantom a mere 
 man, of tall frame indeed, but without a single cha- 
 racteristic of dress or person to delight the soul 
 of wonder. The black bear dwindled into a little 
 dog, the meekest and most insignificant of his 
 tribe, being nothing less or more, in fact, than the 
 identical Peter, which had fared so roughly in the 
 hands, or rather under the feet, of Roaring Ralph 
 Stackpole, at the Station, the day before ; while 
 the human spectre, the supposed fiend of the 
 woods, sinking from its dignity in equal propor- 
 tion of abasement, suddenly presented to Roland's 
 eyes, the person of Peters master, the humble, 
 peaceful, harmless Nathan Slaughter. 
 
 The transformation was so great and unexpect- 
 ed, for even Roland looked to find in the wan- 
 derer, if not a destroying angel, at least some 
 formidable champion of the forest, that he could 
 scarce forbear a laugh, as Nathan came stalking 
 up, followed by little Peter, who stole to the rear, 
 as soon as strangers were perceived, as if to avoid 
 the kicks and cuffs which his experience ha(* 
 doubtless taught him were to be expected on all 
 such occasions. The young man felt the more 
 inclined to indulge his mirth, as the character 
 which Bruce had given him of Wandering Na- 
 than, as one perfectly acquainted with the woods, 
 convinced him that he could not have fallen upon 
 a better person to extricate him from his danger- 
 ous dilemma, and thus relieved his breast of a 
 mountain of anxiety and distress. But the laugh 
 with which he greeted his approach found no re- 
 sponse from Nathan himself, who, having looked 
 with amazement upon Edith and Telie, as if mar- 
 
 YOL. I.— 13 
 
146 NICK or THE WOODS. 
 
 veiling what madness had brought females at that 
 hour into that w^ild desert, turned at last to the 
 soldier, demanding, with inauspicious gravity, — 
 
 " Friend ! does thee think thee is in thee own 
 parlour with thee women at home, that thee 
 shouts so loud, and laughs so merrily ? or does 
 thee know thee is in a wild Kentucky forest, with 
 murdering Injuns all around thee?" 
 
 " I trust not," said Roland, much more serious- 
 ly ; " but, in truth, we all took you for Nick of the 
 Woods, the redoubtable Nick himself; and you 
 must allow, that our terrors were ridiculous 
 enough, when they could convert a peaceful man 
 like you into such a blood-thirsty creature. That 
 there are Indians in the wood I can well believe, 
 having the evidence of Dodge, here, who pro- 
 fesses to have seen six, and killed one, and of my 
 own eyes into the bargain. — Yonder lies one, 
 dead, at this moment, under the walnut-tree, killed 
 by some unknown hand, — Telle Doe says by Nick 
 of the Woods himself. " 
 
 " Friend," said Nathan, interrupting the young 
 man, without ceremony, " thee had better think of 
 living Injuns than talk of dead ones; for, of a 
 truth, thee is like to have trouble with them !" 
 
 " Not now, I hope, with such a man as you to 
 help me out of the woods. In the name of hea- 
 ven, where am I, and whither am I going ?' 
 
 " Whither thee is going," replied Nathan, " it 
 might be hard to say, seeing that thee way of tra- 
 veUing is none of the straightest: nevertheless, if 
 thee continues thee present course, it is my idea, 
 thee is travelling to the tipper Ford of the river, 
 and will fetch it in twelve minutes, or thereabouts, 
 and, in the same space, find theeself in the midst 
 of thirty ambushed Injuns." 
 
 " Good heavens !" cried Roland, " have we then 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 147 
 
 been labouring only to approach the cut-throats T 
 There is not a moment, then, to lose, and your 
 finding us is even more providential than I thought. 
 Put yourself at our head, lead us out of this den of 
 thieves, — conduct us to the Low^er Ford, — to our 
 companions, the emigrants ; or, if that may not be, 
 take us back to the Station, — or any where at all, 
 where I may find safety for these females. — For 
 myself, I am incapable of guiding them longer." 
 
 " Truly," said Nathan, looking embarrassed, " I 
 would do what I could for thee, but " 
 
 " But ! Do you hesitate ?" cried the Virginian, 
 in extreme indignation ; " will you leave us to pe- 
 rish, when you, and you alone, can guide us from 
 the forest ?" 
 
 " Friend," said Nathan, in a submissive, depre- 
 cating tone, " I am a man of peace ; and perad- 
 venture, the party being so numerous, the Injuns 
 will fall upon us ; and, truly, they will not spare 
 me any more than another ; for they kill the non- 
 fighting men, as well as them that fight. Truly, I 
 am in much fear for myself; but a single man 
 might escape." 
 
 " If you are such a knave, such a mean-spirited, 
 unfeeling dastard, as to think of leaving these 
 women to their fate," said Roland, giving way to 
 rage, " be assured that the first step will be your 
 last; — I will blow your brains out, the moment 
 you attempt to leave us !" 
 
 At these ireful words, Nathan's eyes began to 
 widen. 
 
 " Truly," said he, " I don't think thee would be 
 so wicked ! But thee takes by force that which I 
 would have given with good will. It was not my 
 purpose to refuse thee assistance ; though it is un- 
 seemly that one of my peaceful faith should go 
 with fighting-men among men of war, as if to do 
 
148 NICK OF THE WOODS, 
 
 battle. But, friend, if we should fall upon the 
 angry red-nicn, truly, there will bloodshed come 
 of it ; and thee will say to me, 'Nathan, lift up 
 thee gun and shoot ;' and peradventure, if I say 
 * Nay^' thee will call me hard names, as thee did 
 before, saying, ' If thee don't, I will blow^ thee 
 brains out !' — Friend, I am a man of peace ; and 
 if " 
 
 " Trouble yourself no longer on that score," 
 said the soldier, who began to understand how the 
 land lay, and how much the meek Nathan's re- 
 luctance to become his guide was engendered by 
 his fears of being called on to take a share in such 
 fighting as might occur, " trouble yourself no lon- 
 ger, we will take care to avoid a contest." 
 
 " Trulyv" said Nathan, "that may not be as 
 thee chooses, the Injuns being all around thee." 
 
 " If a rencontre should be inevitable," said Ro- 
 land, with a smile, mingling grim contempt of 
 Nathan's pusillaniuiity with secret satisfaction at 
 the thought of being thus able to secure the safety 
 of his kinswoman^ " all that I shall expect of you 
 will be to decamp with the females, wiiilst we 
 three, Emperor^ Pardon Dodge, and myself, cover 
 your retreat : we can, at least, check the assail- 
 ants, if we die for it !'^ 
 
 This resolute speech was echoed by each of the 
 other combatants, the negro exclaiming, though 
 with no very valiant utterance, " Yes, massa! no 
 mistake in ole Emperor ; — will die for missie and 
 massa," — while Pardon, who was fast relapsing 
 into the desperation that had given him courage 
 on a former occasion, cried out, w^ith direful em- 
 phasis, " If there's no dodging the critturs, then 
 there a'n't ; and if 1 must fight, then I must ; and 
 them that takes my scalp must gin the worth on't^ 
 Qx it a'n't no matter I" 
 
NICK or THE WOODS. 149 
 
 " Truly," said Nathan, who listened to these 
 several outpourings of spirit with much compla- 
 cency, " I am a man of peace and amity, accord- 
 ing to my conscience ; but if others are men of 
 wrath and battle, according to theirs, I will not 
 take it upon me to censure them, — nay, not even 
 if they should feel themselves called upon by hard 
 necessity to shed the blood of their Injun fellow- 
 creatures, — who, it must be confessed, if w^e 
 should stumble on the same, will do their best to 
 make that necessity as strong as possible. But 
 now let us away, and see what help there is for 
 us ; though whither to go, and what to do, there 
 being Injuns before, and Injuns behind, and Injuns 
 all around, truly, truly, it doth perplex me." 
 
 And so, indeed, it seemed ; for Nathan straight- 
 way fell into a fit of musing, shaking his head, 
 and tapping his finger contemplatively on the stock 
 of that rifle, terrible only to the animals that fur- 
 nished him subsistence, and all the while in such 
 apparent abstraction, that he took no notice of a 
 suggestion made by Roland, — namely, that he 
 should lead the way to the deserted Ford, where, 
 as the soldier said, there was every reason to be- 
 lieve there were no Indians, — but continued to 
 argue the difficulty in his own mind, interrupting 
 the debate only to ask counsel where there seem- 
 ed the least probability of obtaining it : 
 
 " Peter !" said he, addressing himself to the Httlc 
 dog, and that with as much gravity as if address- 
 ing himself to a human adviser, " I have my 
 thoughts on the matter, — what does thee think of 
 matters and things ?' 
 
 " My friend," cried Roland, impatiently, " this 
 is no affair to be intrusted to the wisdom of a brute 
 dog !" 
 
 ** If there is any one here w^hose w^isdom can" 
 13* 
 
150 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 serve us better," said Nathan, meekly, " let hjm 
 speak. Thee doivt know Peter, friend, or tliee 
 would use him W'ith respect. Many a long day 
 has he followed me through the forest ; and many 
 a time has he helped me out of harm and peril 
 from man and beast, when I was at sore shifts to 
 help myself. For truly, friend, as I told thee be- 
 fore, the Injuns have no regard for men, whether 
 men of peace or war; and an honest, quiet, peace- 
 loving man can no more roam the wood, hunting 
 for the food that sustains life, without the fear of 
 being murdered, than a fighting-man in search of 
 his prey. — Thee sees now w hat little dog Peter is 
 doing? He runs to the tracks, and he wags his 
 tail : — truly, I am of the same way of thinking 1" 
 " What tracks are they ?" demanded Roland, 
 as he followed Nathan to the path which the lat- 
 ter had been pursuing, when arrested by the sol- 
 dier, and where the little cur was now smelling 
 about, occasionally lifting his head and w^agging 
 his tail, as if to call his master's attention. 
 
 " What tracks !" echoed Nathan, looking on the 
 youth first with wonder, and then w^ith com- 
 miseration, and adding, — " It was a tempting of 
 Providence, friend, for thee to lead poor helpless 
 women into a wild forest. Does thee not know 
 the tracks of thee ow^n horses?" 
 
 " 'Sdeath !" said Roland, looking on the marks, 
 as Nathan pointed them out in the soft earth, and 
 reflecting with chagrin how wildly he had been 
 rambling, for more than an hour, since they had 
 been impressed on the soil. 
 
 " Thee knows the hoof-marks," said Nathan, 
 now pointing, with a grin, at other tracks of a dif- 
 ferent appearance among them ; " perhaps thee 
 knows these footprints also ?" 
 
 " They are the marks of footmen," said the sol- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 151 
 
 (Her, in suprise; " but how they came there I know 
 not, no footmen being of our party." 
 
 The grin that marked the visage of the man of 
 peace widened almost into a laugh, as Roland 
 spoke. "Verily," he cried, "thee is in the wrong 
 place, friend, in the forest ! If thee had no foot- 
 men with thee, could thee have none after thee ? 
 Look, friend, here are tracks, not of one man, but 
 of five, each stepping on tiptoe, as if to tread 
 lightly and look well before him, — each with a 
 moccasin on, — each with a toe turned in; each — " 
 " Enough, — they were Indians !" said Roland, 
 with a shudder, " and they must have been close 
 behind us !" 
 
 " Now, friend," said Nathan, " thee will have 
 more respect fer Peter ; for, truly, it was Peter 
 told me of these things, w^hen I was peaceably 
 hunting my game in the forest. He showed me 
 the track of five ignorant persons rambling 
 through the wood, as the hawk flies in the air, — 
 round, round, round, all the time, — or like an ox 
 that has been browsing on the leaves of the buck- 
 eye;* and he showed me that five evil-minded 
 Shawnees were pursuing in their trail. So thinks 
 I to myself, ' these poor creatures will come to 
 mischief, if no one gives them warning of their 
 danger;' and therefore I started to follow, Peter 
 showing me the way. And truly, if there can any 
 good come of my finding thee in this hard case, 
 thee must give all the thanks and all the praise to 
 poor Peter !" 
 
 " I wall never more speak ill of a dog as long 
 
 * The buck-eye, or American horse-chestnut, seems to be 
 universally considered, in the West, a mortal poison, both fruit 
 and leaves. Cattle affected by it, are said to play many re- 
 markable antics, as if intoxicated — turning-, twisting, and roll- 
 ing about and around, until death closes their ag-onies. 
 
152 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 as I live," said Roland. " But let us away. I 
 thought our best course was to the Lower Ford ; 
 but, I find, I am mistaken. We must away in the 
 opposite direction." 
 
 " Not so," said Nathan, coolly ; " Peter is of 
 opinion that w-e must run the track over again ; 
 and, truly, so am I. We must follow these same 
 five Injuns: it is as much as our lives are worth." 
 
 " You are mad !" said Roland. " This will be 
 to bring us right upon the skulking cut-throats. 
 Let us fly in another direction : the forest is open 
 before us." 
 
 '' And how long does thee think it will keep 
 open ? Friend, I tell thee, thee is surrounded by 
 Injuns. On the south, they lie at the Ford; on the 
 west, is the river rolling along in a flood ; and at 
 the east, are the roads full of Shawnees on the 
 scout. Verily, friend, there is but little comfort 
 to think of proceeding in any direction, even to 
 the north, where there are five murdering crea- 
 tures full before us. But this is my thought, and, 
 1 rather think, it is Peter's : if w^e go to the north, 
 w^e know pretty much all the evil that lies before 
 us, and how to avoid it ; whereas, by turning in 
 either of the other quarters, we go into danger 
 blindfold." 
 
 " And how shall we avoid these five villains 
 before us?" asked Roland, anxiously. 
 
 " By keeping them before us," replied Nathan ; 
 " that is, friend, by following them, until such time 
 as they turn w-here thee turned before them, (and, 
 I warrant me, the evil creatures will turn where- 
 soever thee trail does;) when we, if we have good 
 luck, may slip quietly forward, and leave them to 
 follow us, after first taking the full swing of all 
 thee roundabout vagaries." 
 
 " Take your own course," said Roland ; '^ it 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 153 
 
 may be the best. We can, at the worst, but stum- 
 ble upon these five ; and then, (granting that you 
 can, in the meanwhile, bear the females off,) I will 
 answer for keeping two or three of the villains 
 busy. Take your own course," he repeated; " the 
 night is darkening around us; we must do some- 
 thing." 
 
 " Thee says the truth," cried Nathan. " As for 
 stumbling unawares on the five evil persons thee 
 is in dread of, trust Peter for that: thee shall soon 
 see what a friend thee has in little dog Peter. 
 Truly, for a peaceful man like me, it is needful I 
 should have some one to tell me when dangerous 
 persons are nigh." 
 
 With these words, which were uttered with a 
 good countenance, showing how much his confi- 
 dence in the apparently insignificant Peter pre- 
 served him from the fears natural to his character 
 and situation, the man of peace proceeded to mar- 
 shal the company in a line, directing them to fol- 
 low him in that order, and earnestly impressing 
 upon all the necessity of preserving strict silence 
 upon the march. This being done, he boldly strode 
 forwards, taking a post at least two hundred paces 
 in advance of the others, at which distance, as he 
 gave Roland to understand, he desired the party 
 to follow, as was the more necessary, since their 
 being mounted rendered them the more liable to 
 be observed by distant enemies. " If thee sees me 
 wave my hand above my head," were his last in- 
 structions to the young soldier, who began to be 
 well pleased with his readiness and forecast, 
 " bring thee people to a halt; if thee sees me drop 
 upon the ground, lead them under the nearest 
 cover, and keep them quiet; for thee may then be 
 certain there is mischief, or mischievous people, 
 nigh at hand. But verily, friend, w^ith Peter's 
 help, we will circumvent them all." 
 
154 NICK or THE WOODS. 
 
 With this cheering assurance, he now strode 
 forward to his station, and coming to a halt with 
 his dog Peter, Roland immediately beheld the lat- 
 ter run to a post forty or fifty paces further in 
 advance, when he paused to receive the final 
 orders of his master, which were given with a 
 motion of the same hand that a moment after 
 beckoned the party to follow. Had Roland been 
 sufficiently nigh to take note of proceedings, he 
 would have admired the conduct of the little brute, 
 the unerring accuracy with which he pursued the 
 trail, the soft and noiseless motion with which he 
 stepped from leaf to leaf, casting his eyes ever 
 and anon to the right and left, and winding the 
 air before him, as if in reality conscious of peril, 
 and sensible that the welfare of the six mortals at 
 his heels depended upon the faithful exercise of 
 all his sagacity. These things, however, from the 
 distance, Roland was unable to observe; but he 
 saw enough to convince him that the animal ad- 
 dressed itself to its task with as much zeal and 
 prudence as its master. A sense of security, the 
 first felt for several hours, now began to disperse 
 the gloom that had oppressed his spirits; and 
 Edith's countenance, throughout the whole of the 
 adventure a faithful, though doubtless somewhat 
 exaggerated, reflection of his own, also lost much 
 of its melancholy and terror, though without at 
 any moment regaining the cheerful smiles that 
 had decked it at the setting-out. It was left for 
 Roland alone, as his mind regained its elasticity, 
 to marvel at the motley additions by which his 
 party had increased in so short a time to twice 
 its original numbers, and to speculate on the pros- 
 pects of an expedition committed to the guidance 
 of such a conductor as little Peter. 
 
SICK OF THE WOODS, 155 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 The distance at which Roland with his party 
 followed the guides, and the gloom of the woods, 
 prevented his making any close observations upon 
 iheir motions, unless when some swelling ridge, 
 nearly destitute of trees, brought them nearer the 
 light of the upper air. At other times, he could 
 do little more than follow with his eye the tall 
 figure of Nathan, plunging from shadow to sha- 
 dow, and knoll to knoll, with a pace both free and 
 rapid, and little resembling the shambling, hesitat- 
 ing step with which he moved among the haunts 
 of his contemners and oppressors. As for the dog, 
 httle Peter, he was only with difficulty seen when 
 ascending some such illuminated knoll as has been 
 mentioned, when he might be traced creeping 
 along with unabated vigilance and caution. 
 
 It was while ascending one of these low, and 
 almost bare swells of ground, that the little ani- 
 mal gave the first proof of that sagacity, or wis- 
 dom, as Nathan called it, on which the latter 
 seemed to rely for safety so much more than on 
 his own experience and address. He had no 
 sooner reached the summit of the knoll than he 
 abruptly came to a stand, and by and by cowered 
 to the earth, as if to escape the observation of 
 enemies in front, whose presence he indicated in 
 no other way, unless by a few twitches and flour- 
 ishes of his tail, which, a moment after, became 
 as rigid and motionless as if, with his body, it had 
 
156 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 been suddenly converted into stone. The whole 
 action, as far as Roland could note it, was similar 
 to that of a w^ell-trained spaniel marking game, 
 and such was the interpretation the soldier put 
 upon it, until Nathan, suddenly stopping, waved 
 his hand as a signal to the party to halt, which 
 was immediately obeyed. The next moment, Na- 
 than was seen creeping up the hill, to investigate 
 the cause of alarm, which he proceeded to do 
 with great caution, as if well persuaded there was 
 danger at hand. Indeed, he had not yet reached 
 the brow of the eminence, when Roland beheld 
 him suddenly drop upon his face, thereby giving 
 the best evidence of the existence of peril of an 
 extreme and urgent character. 
 
 The young Virginian remembered the instruc- 
 tions of his guide to seek shelter for his party, the 
 moment this signal was given; and, accordingly, 
 he led liis followers without delay into a little 
 tangled brake hard by, where he charged them 
 to remain in quiet, until the cause of the interrup- 
 tion should be ascertained and removed. From 
 the edge of the brake he could see the guide, still 
 maintaining his position on his face, yet dragging 
 himself upward like a snake, until he had reached 
 the top of the hill and looked over into the maze 
 of forest beyond. In this situation he lay for seve- 
 ral moments, apparently deeply engaged with the 
 scene before him ; when Forrester, impatient of 
 his silence and delay, anxiously interested in every 
 turn of events, and perhaps unwilling at a season 
 of difficulty, to rely altogether on Nathan's unaid- 
 ed observations, gave his horse in charge of Em- 
 peror, and ascended the eminence himself; taking 
 care, however, to do as Nathan had done, and 
 throw himself upon the ground, when near its 
 summit. In this way, he succeeded in creeping 
 
^ICK or THE WOODS. 157 
 
 to Nathan's side, when the cause of alarm was 
 ■soon made manifest. 
 
 The forest beyond the ridge was, for a conside- 
 rable distance, open and free from undergrowth, 
 the trees standing wide apart, and thus admitting 
 a broad extent of vision, though now contracted 
 by the increasing dusk of evening. Through this 
 expanse, and in its darkest corner, flitting dimly 
 along, Roland's eyes fell upon certain shadows, at 
 first vague and indistinct, but which soon assumed 
 the human form, marching one after the other in 
 a line, and apparently approaching the very ridge 
 on which he lay, each with the stealthy y-et rapid 
 pace of a wild-cat. They were but five in num- 
 ber; but the order of their march, the appear- 
 ance of their bodies seemingly half naked, and the 
 busy intentness with which they pursued the trail 
 left so broad and open by the inexperienced wan- 
 derers, would have convinced Roland of their sa- 
 vage character, had he possessed no other evi- 
 dence than that of his own senses. 
 
 "" They are Indians !" he muttered in Nathan's 
 ear. 
 
 "^Shawnee creatures," said the latter, with edi- 
 fying coolness ; — ^^ and will think no more of tak- 
 ing the scalps of thee two poor women than of 
 digging oflf thee owm." 
 
 '' There are but five of them, and " The 
 
 young man paused, and the gloom that a spirit so 
 long harassed by fears, though fears- for another, 
 had spread over his countenance, was exchanged 
 for a look of fierce decision that better became 
 his features. " Harkee, man," he abruptly resum- 
 ed, " we cannot pass the ridge without being seen 
 hy them ; our horses are exhausted, and we can- 
 not hope to escape them by open flight ?" 
 
 VOL. I. — 14 
 
158 iVICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 " Verily,'* said Nathan, " thee speaks the 
 truth." 
 
 " Nor can we leave the path we are now pur- 
 suing, without fear of falling into the hands of a 
 party more numerous and powerful. Our only 
 path of escape, you said, was over this ridge, and 
 tow^ards yonder Lower Ford ?" 
 
 " Truly," said Nathan, with a lugubrious look 
 of assent, — "what thee says is true: but how we 
 are to fly these evil-minded creatures, with poor 
 frightened women hanging to our legs " 
 
 " We will not fly them !" said Roland, the frow^n 
 of battle gathering on his brows. " Yonder crawl- 
 ing reptiles, — reptiles in spirit as in movement, — 
 have been dogging our steps for hours, waiting for 
 the moment when to strike with advantage at my 
 defenceless followers; and they will dog us 
 still, if permitted, until there is no escape from 
 their knives and hatchets, for either man or wo- 
 man. There is a way of stopping them, — there 
 is a way of requiting them !" 
 
 " Truly," said Nathan, " there is no such way; 
 unless we were wicked men of the world and 
 fighting-men, and would wage battle with them." 
 
 " Why not meet the villains in their own way ? 
 There are but five of them, — and footmen too ! 
 By heavens, man, we will charge them, — cut them 
 to pieces, and so rid the wood of them! Four 
 strong men like us, fighting, too, in defence of 
 women, " 
 
 ^^Four!'^ echoed Nathan, looking wonder and 
 alarm together ; " does thee think to have ?jie do 
 the wicked thing of shedding blood ? Thee should 
 remember, friend, that I am a follower of peace- 
 ful doctrines, a man of peace and amity." 
 
 " What !" said Roland, warmly, " would you 
 not defend your fife from the villains ? Would you 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 159 
 
 suffer yourself to be tomahawked, unresisting, 
 when a touch of the trigger under your finger,, a 
 blow of the knife at your belt, would preserve 
 the existence nature and heaven alike call on you 
 to protect ? Would you lie still, like a fettered 
 ox, to be butchered V' 
 
 " Truly," said Nathan, " I would take myself 
 away ; or, if that might not be, why then, friend, 
 — verily, friend, if I could do nothing else, — truly, 
 I must then give myself up to be murdered." 
 
 " Spiritless, mad, or hypocritical !" cried Ro- 
 land, with mingled wonder and contempt. Then 
 grasping his strange companion by the arm, he 
 cried, " Harkee, man, if you would not strike a 
 blow for yourself, — would you not strike it for 
 another? What if you had a wife, a parent, a 
 child, lying beneath the uplifted hatchet, and you 
 with these arms in your hands, — what! do you 
 tell me you would stand by and see them murder- 
 ed ? — I say, a wife or child I — the wife of your 
 bosom, — the child of your heart ! — would you see 
 them murdered ?' 
 
 At this stirring appeal, uttered with indescriba- 
 ble energy and passion, though only in a whisper, 
 Nathan's countenance changed from dark to pale, 
 and his arm trembled in the soldier's grasp. He 
 turned upon him also a look of extraordinary 
 wildness, and muttered betwixt his teeth an an- 
 swer that betokened as much confusion of mind 
 as agitation of spirits : " Friend," he said, " who- 
 ever thee is, it matters nothing to thee what 
 might happen, or has happened, in such case made 
 and provided. I am a man, thee is another; thee 
 has thee conscience, and I have mine. If thee will 
 fight, fight : settle it with thee conscience. If thee 
 don't like to see thee kinswoman murdered, and 
 thee thinks thee has a call to battle, do thee best 
 
160 NICK OF THE WOODS- 
 
 with sword and pistol, gun and tomahawk ; kill 
 and slay to thee liking : it' thee conscience finds no 
 fault with thee, neither will L But as for me, let 
 the old Adam of the flesh stir me as it may, 'I 
 have no one to fight for, — wife or child, parent or 
 kinsman, I have none: if thee will hunt the world 
 over, thee will not find one in it that is my kins- 
 man or relative^" 
 
 " But I ask you," said Roland, somewhat sur- 
 prised at the turn of Nathan's answer, " I ask. 
 you, if you had a wife or child " 
 
 " But I have ?io^," cried Nathan, interrupting 
 him vehemently ; " and therefore, friend, why 
 should thee speak of them? Them that are dead, 
 let them rest : they can never cry to me more. — 
 Think of thee own blood, and do what seems best 
 to thee for the good thereof," 
 
 " Assuredly I would," said Roland, who, how- 
 ever much his curiosity was roused by the unex- 
 pected agitation of his guide, had httle time to 
 think of any aflairs but his own, — " Assuredly I 
 would, could I onfy count upon your hearty as- 
 sistance. I tell you, man, my blood boils to look 
 at yonder crawling serpents, and to think of the 
 ferocious object with which they are dogging at 
 my heels; and I would give a year of my life, — 
 ay, if the whole number of years were but ten, — 
 one whole year of all, — for the privilege of pay- 
 ing them for their villa ny beforehand." 
 
 " Thee has thee two men to back thee," said 
 Nathan, who had now recovered his composure ; 
 " and with these two men, if thee is warlike 
 enough, thee might do as much mischief as thee 
 conscience calls for. But, truly, it becomes not a 
 man of peace like me to speak of strife and blood- 
 shed Yet, truly," he added, hastily, " I think 
 
 there must mischief come of this meeting; for. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 161 
 
 verily, the evil creatures are leaving thee tracks, 
 and coming towards us!" 
 
 " They stop !" said Forrester, eagerly, — " they 
 look about them, — they have lost the track, — they 
 are coming this way ! You will not fight, yet you 
 may counsel. — What shall I do ? Shall I attack 
 them? What caTi I do?" 
 
 "Friend," replied Nathan, briskly, "I can't tell 
 what thee can do ; but I can tell thee what a man 
 of Kentucky, a wicked fighter of Injuns, would 
 do in such a case made and provided. He would 
 betake him to the thicket where he had hidden his 
 women and horses, and he would lie down with 
 his fighting men behind a log ; and truly, if these 
 ill-disposed Injun-men were foolish enough to ap- 
 proach, he would fire upon them with his three 
 guns, taking them by surprise, and perhaps, wick- 
 ed man, killing the better half of them on the spot: 
 and then — " 
 
 " And then," interrupted Roland, taking fire at 
 the idea, " he would spring on his horse, and make 
 sure of the rest with sword and pistol?" 
 
 " Truly," said Nathan, " he would do no such 
 thing; seeing that, the moment he lifted up his 
 head above the log, he would be liker to have an 
 Injun bullet through it than to see the wicked 
 creature that shot it. Verily, a man of Kentucky 
 would be wiser. He would take the pistols thee 
 speaks of, supposing it were his good luck to have 
 them, and let fly at the evil-minded creatures with 
 them also; not hoping, indeed, to do any execution 
 with such small ware, but to make the Injuns be- 
 lieve there were as many enemies as fire-arms: 
 and, truly, if they did not take to their heels after 
 such a second volley, they would be foolisher In- 
 juns than were ever before heard of in Ken- 
 tucky." 
 
 14* 
 
162 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 " By Heaven," said Forrester, " it is good ad- 
 vice ; and I will take it !"' 
 
 " Advice, friend ! I don't advise thee," said Na- 
 than, hastily : " truly, I advise to nothing but peace 
 and amity. 1 only tell thee what a wicked Ken- 
 tucky fighting-man would do, — a man that might 
 think it, as many of them do, as law^ful to shoot a 
 prowling Injun as a skulking bear." 
 
 " And I would to Heaven," said Roland, " I iiad 
 but two, — nay, but one of them with me this in- 
 stant. A man Hke Bruce were worth the lives of 
 a dozen such scum. — I must do my best." 
 
 " Truly, friend," said Nathan, who had listened 
 to the warlike outpourings of the young soldier 
 with a degree of complacency and admiration one 
 would have scarce looked for in a man of his 
 peaceful character, " thee has a conscience of 
 thee own, and if thee will fight these Injun-men 
 from an ambush, truly, I will not censure nor ex- 
 hort thee to the contrary. If thee can rely upon 
 thee tw^o men, the coloured person and the other^ 
 thee may hold the evil creatures exceeding un- 
 easy. 
 
 " Alas," said Roland, the fire departing from 
 his eyes, " you remind me of my weakness. My 
 men will not fight, unless from sheer desperation. 
 Emperor I know to be a coward, and Dodge, I 
 fear, is no braver." 
 
 " Yerily," said Nathan, blufily, " it was foolish 
 of thee to come into the woods in such company, 
 foolisher still to think of fighting five Injun-men 
 with such followers to back thee ; and truly," he 
 added, '' it was foolishest of all to put the safe- 
 keeping of such helpless creatures into the hands 
 of one who can neither fight for them nor for him- 
 self. Nevertheless, thee is as a babe and suckling 
 in the woods, and Peter and I w^ill do the best we 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 163 
 
 can for thee. It is lucky for thee, that as thee can- 
 not fight, thee has the power to fly ; and, truly, for 
 the poor women's sake, it is better thee should 
 leave the woods in peace." 
 
 With that, Nathan directed the young man's at- 
 tention to the pursuing foes, who, having by some 
 mischance, lost the trail, had scattered about in 
 search of it, and at last recovered it; though not 
 before two of them had approached so nigh the 
 ridge on which the observers lay as to give just 
 occasion for fear lest they should cross it imme- 
 diately in front of the party of travellers. The 
 deadly purpose with which the barbarians were 
 pursuing him Roland could infer from the cau- 
 tious silence preserved while they w^ere searching 
 for the lost tracks ; and even when these were 
 regained, the discovery was communicated from 
 one to another merely by signs, not a man utter- 
 ing so much as a word. In a few moments, they 
 were seen again, formed in single file, steahng 
 through the w^oods with a noiseless but rapid 
 pace, and, fortunately, bending their steps towards 
 a distant part of the ridge, where Roland and his 
 companions had so lately crossed it. 
 
 " Get thee down to thee people," said Nathan ; 
 " lead them behind the thicket, and when thee sees 
 me beckon thee, carry them boldly over the hill. 
 Thee must pass it, while the Shawnee-men are 
 behind yonder clump of trees, W'hich is so luckily 
 for thee on the very comb of the swell. Be quick 
 in obeying, friend, or the evil creatures may catch 
 sight of thee : thee has no time to lose." 
 
 The ardour of battle once driven from his mind, 
 Roland was able to perceive the folly of risking 
 a needless contest betwixt a superior body of w^ild 
 Indian w-arriors and his own followers. But had 
 his warlike spirit been at its height, it must have 
 
164 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 been quelled in a moment by the appearance of 
 his party, left in the thicket, during his ^brief ab- 
 sence on the hill, to feed their imaginations with 
 terrors of every appalhng character ; in which oc- 
 cupation, as he judged at a glance, the gallant 
 Dodge and Emperor had been even more indus- 
 trious than the females, the negro looking the 
 very personification of mute horror, and bending 
 Jow on his saddle as if expecting every instant a 
 shower of Indian bullets to be let fly into the 
 thicket; while Pardon expressed the state of his 
 feelings by crying aloud, as soon as Roland ap- 
 peared, " I say, capting, if you seed 'em, a'n't 
 there no dodging of 'em no how?" 
 
 " We can escape, Roland !" exclaimed Edith, 
 anticipating the soldier's news from his counte- 
 nance ; " the good man can save us ?" 
 
 " I hope, I trust so," replied the kinsman : " we 
 are in no immediate danger. Be composed, and 
 for your lives, all now preserve silence." 
 
 A few words served to explain the posture of 
 affairs, and a few seconds to transfer the party 
 from its ignoble hiding-place to the open wood 
 behind it ; when Roland, casting his eyes to where 
 Nathan lay motionless on the hill, awaited impa- 
 tiently the expected signal. Fortunately, it was 
 soon given ; and, in a few moments more, the 
 party, moving briskly but stealthily over the emi- 
 nence, had plunged into the dark forest beyond, 
 leaving the baffled pursuers to follow afterwards as 
 they might. 
 
 " Now," said Nathan, taking post at Roland's 
 side, and boldly directing his course across the 
 track of the enemy, " we have the evil creatures 
 behind us, and, truly, there we will keep them. 
 And now, friend soldier, since such thee is, thee 
 must make thee horses do duty, tired or not; for 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 165 
 
 if we reach not the Old Ford before darkness 
 closes on us, we may find but ill fortune crossing 
 the waters. — Hark, friend ! does thee hear?' he 
 exclaimed, coming to a pause, as a sudden and 
 frightful yell suddenly rose in the forest beyond 
 the ridge, obviously proceeding from the five foes, 
 and expressing at once surprise, horror, and lamen- 
 tation: "Did thee not say thee found a dead Injun 
 in the w^ood ?" 
 
 " We did," replied the soldier, " the body of an 
 Indian, horribly mangled; and, if I am to believe 
 the strange story I have heard of the Jibbenaino- 
 say, it was some of his bloody work." 
 
 " It is good for thee, then, and the maidens that 
 is with thee," said Nathan ; " for, truly, the evil 
 creatures have found that same dead man, being 
 doubtless one of their own scouting companions ; 
 and, truly, they say the Injuns, in such cases made 
 and provided, give over their evil designs in ter- 
 ror and despair ; in which case, as I said, it will 
 be good for thee and thee companions. But fol- 
 low, friends, and tarry not to ask questions. Thee 
 poor women shall come to no harm, if Nathan 
 Slaughter or Uttle dog Peter can help them." 
 
 With these words of encouragement, Nathan, 
 bounding along with an activity that kept him 
 ever in advance of the mounted wanderers, led 
 the way from the open forest into a labyrinth of 
 brakes and bogs, through paths traced rather by 
 wolves and bears than any nobler animals, so 
 wild, so difficult, and sometimes, in appearance, so 
 impracticable to be pursued, that Roland, bewil- 
 dered from the first, looked every moment to find 
 himself plunged into difficulties from which neither 
 the zeal of Nathan nor the sagacity of the unpre- 
 tending Peter could extricate his weary followers. 
 The night was coming fast, and coming with 
 
166 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 clouds and distant peals of thunder, the harbingers 
 of new tempests ; and how the journey was to be 
 continued, when darkness should at last invest 
 them, through the wild mazes of vine and brake 
 in which they now wandered, was a question 
 which he scarce durst answer. But night came, 
 and still Nathan led the way with unabated confi- 
 dence and activity, professing a very hearty con- 
 tempt for all perils and dithculties of the woods, 
 except such as proceeded from " evil-minded 
 Shawnee creatures;" and, indeed, averring that 
 there was scarce a nook in the forest for miles 
 around, with which he w^as not as well acquainted 
 as with the patches of his own leathern garments. 
 " Truly," said he, " when I first came to this land, 
 I did make me a little cabin in a place hard by ; 
 but the Injuns burned the same ; and, verily, had 
 it not been for little Peter, who gave me a hint of 
 their coming, I should have been burned with it. 
 Be of good heart, friend : if thee will keep the ill- 
 meaning Injun-men out of my way, I will adven- 
 ture to lead thee any-where thee will, within 
 twenty miles of this place, on the darkest night, 
 and that through the thickest cane, or deepest 
 swamp, thee can lay eyes on, — that is, if I have 
 but little dog Peter to help me. Courage, friend ; 
 thee is now coming fast to the rivefr; and, if we 
 have but good luck in crossing it, thee shall, per- 
 adventure, find theeself nearer thee friends than 
 thee thinks for." 
 
 This agreeable assurance was a cordial to the 
 spirits of all, and the travellers now finding them- 
 selves, though still in profound darkness, moving 
 through the open woodlands again, instead of the 
 maze of copses that had so long confined them, 
 Roland took advantage of the change to place 
 himself at Nathan's side, and endeavour to draw 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 167 
 
 from him some account of his history, and the 
 causes that had brought him into a position and 
 way of hfe so ill suited to his faith and peaceful 
 habits. To his questions, however, Nathan seemed 
 little disposed to return satisfactory answers, ex- 
 cept in so far as they related to his adventures since 
 the period of his coming to the frontier; of which 
 he spoke very freely, though succinctly. He had 
 built him cabins, like other lonely settlers, and 
 planted cornfields, from which he had been driven, 
 time after time, by the evil Shawnees, incurring 
 frequent perils and hardships; which, with the- 
 persecutions he endured from his more warlike 
 and intolerant neighbours, gradually drove him 
 into the forest to seek a precarious subsistence 
 from the spoils of the chase. As to his past life, 
 and the causes that had made him a dweller of the 
 wilderness, he betrayed so little inclination to 
 satisfy the young man's curiosity, that Roland 
 dropped the subject entirely, not however without 
 suspecting, that the imputations Bruce had cast 
 upon his character might have had some founda- 
 tion in truth. 
 
 But while conning these things over in his 
 mind, on a sudden the soldier stepped from the 
 dark forest into a broad opening, canopied only 
 by the sky, sweeping like a road through the 
 wood, in which it w'as lost behind him ; while, in 
 front, it sank abruptly into a deep hollow or gulf, 
 in which was heard the sullen rush of an impetuous 
 river. 
 
168 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The roar of the moving flood, for such, by its 
 noise, it seemed, as they descended the river-bank, 
 to which Nathan had so skilfully conducted them, 
 awoke in Roland's bosom a feeling of dismay. 
 
 " Fear not," said the guide, to whom he im- 
 parted his doubts of the safety of the ford; "there 
 is more danger in one single skulking Shawnee 
 than ten thousand such sputtering brooks. Verily, 
 the ford is good enough, though deep and rough; 
 and if the water should soil thee young women's 
 garments a little, thee should remember it will not 
 make so ugly a stain as the blood-mark of a 
 scalping savage." 
 
 "Lead on," said Pardon Dodge, with unexpect- 
 ed spirit; " I am not one of them 'ere fellers as 
 fears a big river ; and my hoss is a dreadful fine 
 swimmer." 
 
 " In that case," said Nathan, " if thee consents 
 to the same, I will get up behind thee, and so pass 
 over dry-shod ; for the feel of wet leather- 
 breeches is quite uncomfortable." 
 
 This proposal, being reasonable enough, was 
 readily acceded to, and Nathan was in the act of 
 chmbing to the crupper of Dodge's horse, when 
 little Peter began to manifest a prudent desire to 
 pass the ford dry-shod also, by pawing at his mas- 
 ter's heels, and beseeching his notice with sundry 
 ow but expressive whinings. Such, at least, was 
 the interpretation which Roland, who perceived the 
 
XICK OF THE WOODS, 160 
 
 animal's motions, was inclined to put upon them. 
 He was, therefore, not a little surprised w^hen Na- 
 than, starting from the stirrup, into which he had 
 cUmbed, leaped again to the ground, staring around 
 him from right to left with every appearance of 
 alarm. 
 
 *' Right, Peter !" he at last muttered, fixing his 
 eye upon the further bank of the river, a dark 
 mass of hill and forest that rose in dim relief 
 against the clouded sky, overshadowing the whole 
 stream, which lay like a pitchy abyss betwixt it 
 and the travellers, — " right, Peter ! thee eyes is as 
 good as thee nose — thee is determined the poor 
 women shall not be murdered !" 
 
 "What is it you see?' demanded Forrester, 
 " and why do you talk of murdering ?' 
 
 *' Speak low, and look across the river," whis- 
 pered the guide, in reply ; " does thee see the 
 light glimmering amone the rocks by the road- 
 side ?" 
 
 " I see neither rocks nor road, — all is to my 
 eyes confused blackness ; and as for a light, I see 
 nothing Stay ! No ; 'tis the gleam of a fire- 
 
 riy." 
 
 "The gleam of a fire-fly!" murmured Nathan, 
 with tones that seemed to mingle wonder and de- 
 rision with feelings of a much more serious cha- 
 racter ; " it is such a fire-fly as might burn a house, 
 or roast a living captive at the stake : — it is a 
 brand in the hands of a 'camping Shawnee ! 
 Look, friend ; he is blowing it into a flame ; and 
 presently thee will see the whole bank around it 
 in a glow." 
 
 It was even as Nathan said. Almost while he 
 was yet speaking, the light, which all now clearly 
 beheld, at first a point as small and faint as the 
 spark of a lampyris, and then a star scarce hig- 
 
 VOL. I. — 15 
 
170 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 ger or brighter than the torch of a jack-o'-lantern, 
 suddenly grew in magnitude, projecting a long 
 and lance-like, though broken, reflection over the 
 wheeling current, and then as suddenly shot into 
 a bright and ruddy blaze, illumining hill and river, 
 and even the anxious countenances of the travel- 
 lers. At the same time, a dark figure, as of a man en- 
 gaged feeding the flame with fresh fuel, was plainly 
 seen twice or thrice to pass before it. How many 
 others, his comrades, might be watching its in- 
 creasing blaze, or preparing for their wild slum- 
 bers, among the rocks and bushes where it was 
 kindled, it was impossible to divine. The sight of 
 the fire itself in such a solitary spot, and under 
 such circumstances, even if no attendant had been 
 seen by it, would have been enough to alarm the 
 travellers, and compel the conviction that their 
 enemies had not forgotten to station a force at 
 this neglected ford, as well as at the other more 
 frequented one above, and thus to deprive them of 
 the last hope of escape. 
 
 This unexpected incident, the climax of a long 
 series of disappointments, all of a character so 
 painful and exciting, drove the young soldier again 
 to despair ; which feeling the tantalizing sense 
 that he was now within but a few miles of his 
 companions in exile, and separated from them only 
 by the single obstruction before him, exasperated 
 into a species of fury bordering almost upon 
 phrensy. 
 
 " There is but one w^ay of escape," he exclaim- 
 ed, without venturing even a look towards his 
 kinswoman, or seeking by idle words to conceal 
 the danger of their situation: " we must pass the 
 river. The roar of the water will drown the 
 noise of our footsteps ; we can cross unheard and 
 unlooked for; and then, if there be no way of 
 
NICK or THE WOODS. 171 
 
 avoiding them, we can pour a volley among the 
 rascals at their fire, and take advantage of their 
 confusion to gallop by. Look to the w^omen, Na- 
 than Slaughter; and you. Pardon Dodge, and 
 Emperor, follow me, and do as you see me do." 
 
 " Truly," said Wandering Nathan, with ad- 
 mirable coolness and complacency, "thee is a 
 courageous young man, and a young man of sense 
 and spirit, — that is to say, after thee own sense of 
 matters and things : and, truly, if it were not for 
 the poor w^omen, and for the blazing fire, thee 
 might greatly confound and harmfully vanquish 
 the evil creatures, there placed so unluckily on 
 the bank, in the way and manner w^hich thee 
 thinks of. But, friend, thee plan will not do: thee 
 might pass unheard indeed, but not unseen. Does 
 thee not see how brightly the fire blazes on the 
 water ? Truly, we should all be seen and fired at, 
 before we reached the middle of the stream; and, 
 truly, I should not be surprised if the gleam of the 
 fire on the pale faces of thee poor women should 
 bring a shot upon us where w^e stand; and, 
 therefore, friend, the sooner we get us out of the 
 way, the better." 
 
 " And where shall we betake us ?" demanded 
 Roland, the sternness of w^hose accents but ill 
 disguised the gloom and hopelessness of his feel- 
 ings. 
 
 " To a place of safety and of rest," replied the 
 guide, " and to one that is nigh at hand ; where 
 we may lodge us, with little fear of Injuns, until 
 such time as the waters shall abate a Httle, or the 
 stars give us light to cross them at a place where 
 are no evil Shawnees to oppose us. And then, 
 friend, as to slipping by these foolish creatures 
 who make such bright fires on the public high- 
 
172 IfICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 way, truly, with little Peter's assistance, we can 
 do it with great ease." 
 
 " Let us not delay," said Roland ; and added 
 sullenly, "though where a place of rest and safety 
 can be found in these detestable woods, I can n.o 
 lons^er imamnc." 
 
 " It is a place of rest, at least, for the deady" 
 said Nathan, in a low voice, at the same time 
 leading the party back again up the bank, and 
 taking care to shelter them as he ascended, as 
 much as possible from the light of the fire, which 
 was now blazing with great brilliancy: "nine 
 human corses, — father and mother, grandam and 
 children, — sleep under the threshold at the door; 
 and there are not many, white men or Injuns, that 
 will, of their free will, step over the bosoms of 
 the poor murdered creatures, after nightfall ; and, 
 the more especially, because there are them that 
 believe they rise at midnight, and roam round the 
 house and the clearings, mourning. Yet it is a 
 good hiding-place for them that are in trouble ; 
 and many a night have little Peter and I sheltered 
 ys beneath the ruined roof, with little fear of either 
 ghosts or Injuns; though, truly, we have some- 
 times heard strange and mournful noises among 
 the trees around us. It is but a poor place and a 
 sad one ; but it will afford thee weary women a 
 safe resting-place till such time as we can cross 
 the river."^ 
 
 These words of Nathan brought to Roland's 
 recollection the story of the Ashburns, whom 
 Bruce had alluded to, as having been all destroy- 
 ed at their Station in a single night by the Indians, 
 and whose tragical fate, perhaps, more than any 
 other circumstance, had diverted the course of 
 travel from the ford, near to which they had 
 
MCK OF THE WOODS. 173 
 
 seated themselves, to the upper, and, originally, 
 less frequented one. 
 
 It was not without reluctance that Roland pre- 
 pared to lead his little party to this scene of butch- 
 ery and sorrow ; for, though little inclined himself 
 to superstitious feelings of any kind, he could 
 easily imagine w^hat would be the effect of such 
 a scene, with its gloomy and blood-stained associa- 
 tions, on the harassed mind of his cousin. But 
 suffering and terror, even on the part of Edith, 
 were not to be thought of, where they could pur- 
 chase escape from evils far more real and appall- 
 ing ; and he therefore avoided all remonstrance 
 and opposition, and even sought to hasten the 
 steps of his conductor towards the ruined and 
 solitary pile. 
 
 The bank was soon re-ascended; and the party, 
 stealing along in silence, presently took their last 
 view of the ford, and the yet blazing fire that 
 had warned them so opportunely from its danger- 
 ous vicinity. In another moment they had crept a 
 second time into the forest, though in the opposite 
 quarter from that whence they had come; making 
 their w^ay through what had once been a broad 
 path, evidently cut by the hands of man, through 
 a thick cane-brake, though long disused, and now 
 almost choked by brambles and shrubs; and, by 
 and by, having followed it for somewhat less than 
 half a mile, they found themselves on a kind of 
 clearing, which, it was equally manifest, had been 
 once a cultivated field of several acres in extent. 
 Throughout the whole of this space, the trunks of 
 the old forest-trees, dimly seen in the light of a 
 clouded sky, w^ere yet standing, but entirely leaf- 
 less and dead, and presenting such an aspect of 
 desolation as is painful to the mind, even when 
 sunshine, and the flourishing maize at their roots, 
 15* 
 
174 NICK OF THE WOODS, 
 
 invest them with a milder and more cheerful cha- 
 racter. Such prospects are common enough in 
 all new American clearings, where the husband- 
 man is content to deprive the trees of life, by 
 girdling, and then leave them to the assaults of 
 the elements and the natural course of decay ; and 
 where a thousand trunks, of the gigantic growth 
 of the West, are thus seen rising together in the 
 air, naked and hoary with age, they impress the 
 imagination with such gloom as is engendered by 
 the sight of ruined colonnades. 
 
 Such was the case with the present prospect ; 
 years had passed since the axe had sapped 
 the strength of the mighty oaks and beeches; 
 bough after bough, and limb after hmb, had fallen 
 to the earth, with here and there some huge trunk 
 itself, overthrown by the blast, and now rotting 
 among weeds on the soil which it cumbered. At 
 the present hour, the spectacle was peculiarly 
 mournful and dreary. The deep solitude of the 
 spot, — the hour itself, — the gloomy aspect of the 
 sky veiled in clouds, — the occasional rush of the 
 wind sweeping like a tempest through the woods, 
 lobe succeeded by a dead and dismal calm, — the 
 roll of distant thunder reverberating among the 
 hills, — but, more than all, the remembrance of the 
 tragical event that had consigned the ill-fated set- 
 tlement to neglect and desolation, gave the deep- 
 est character of gloom to the scene. 
 
 As the travellers entered upon the clearing, 
 there occurred one of those casualties which so 
 often increase the awe of the looker-on, in such 
 places. In one of the deepest lulls and hushes of 
 the wind, when there was no apparent cause in 
 operation to produce such an effect, a tall and 
 majestic trunk was seen to decline from the per- 
 pendicular, topple slowly through the air, and then 
 
XICK OF THE WOODS. 175 
 
 fall to the earth with a crash like the shock of an 
 earthquake. 
 
 The poet and the moralizing philosopher mar 
 find food for contemplation in such a scene, and 
 such a catastrophe. He may see, in the lofty and 
 decaying trunks, the hoary relics and representa- 
 tives of a genei'ation of better and greater spirits 
 than those who lead the destinies of his own, — 
 spirits, left not more as monuments of the past 
 than as models for the imitation of the present ; 
 he may contrast their majestic serenity and rest, 
 their silence and immoveableness, with the tur- 
 moil of the greener growth around, the uproar 
 and collision produced by every gust, and trace 
 the resemblance to the scene where the storms of 
 party, rising among the sons, hurtle so indecently 
 around the gray fathers of a republic, whose pre- 
 sence should stay them ; and, finally, he may be- 
 hold in the trunks, as they yield at last to decay, 
 and sink one by one to the earth, the fall of each 
 aged parent of his country, — a fall, indeed, as of 
 an oak of a thousand generations, shocking the 
 earth around, and producing for a moment, w^on- 
 der, awe, grief, and then a long forgetfulness. 
 
 But men in the situation of the travellers have 
 neither time nor inclination for moralizing. The 
 fall of the tree only served to alarm the weaker 
 members of the party, to some of whom, perhaps, 
 it appeared as an inauspicious omen. Apparently, 
 however, it woke certain mournful recollections in 
 the brains of both little Peter and his master, the 
 former of whom, as he passed it by, began to 
 snuffle and whine in a low and pecuHar manner; 
 while Nathan immediately responded, as if in re- 
 ply to his counsellor's address, " Ay, truly, Peter ! 
 — thee has a good memory of the matter ; though 
 five long years is a marvellous time for thee little 
 
176 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 noddle to hold things. It was under this very tree 
 they murdered the poor old granny, and brained 
 the innocent, helpless babe. Of a truth, it was a 
 sight that made my heart sick within me." 
 
 " What!" asked Roland, who followed close at 
 his heels, and overheard the half-soliloquized ex- 
 pressions; "were you present at the massacre?" 
 
 " Alas, friend," replied Nathan, " it was neither 
 the first nor last massacre that I have seen with 
 these eyes. I dwelt, in them days, in a cabin a 
 little distance down the river; and these poor peo- 
 ple, the Ashburns, were my near neighbours; 
 though, truly, they were not to me as neighbours 
 should be, but held me in disfavour, because of 
 my faith, and ever repelled me from their doors 
 with scorn and ill-will. Yet was I sorry for them, 
 because of the little children they had in the 
 liouse, the same being afar from succour; and 
 when I found the tracks of the Injun party in the 
 wood, as it was often my fate to do, while ram- 
 bling in search of food, and saw that they were 
 bending their way towards my own little wig- 
 w-am, I said to myself, ' Whilst they are burning 
 the same, I will get me to friend Ashburn, that he 
 may be warned and escape to friend Bruce's Sta- 
 tion in time, with his people and cattle.' But, veri- 
 ly, they held my story light, and laughed at and 
 derided me ; for, in them days, the people hard- 
 ened their hearts and closed their ears against 
 me, because I held it not according to conscience 
 to kill Injuns as they did, and so refused. And so, 
 friend, they drove me from their doors; seeing 
 which, and perceiving the poor creatures were in 
 a manner besotted, and bent upon their own de- 
 struction, and the night coming on fast, I turned 
 my steps and ran with what speed I could to 
 friend Bruce's, telhng him the whole story, and 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 177 
 
 advising that he should despatch a strong body of 
 horsemen to the place, so as to frighten the evil 
 creatures away ; for, truly, I did not hold it right 
 that there should be bloodshed. But, truly and 
 alas, friend, I fared no better, and perhaps a little 
 worse, at the Station than I had fared before at 
 Ashburn's; wherefore, being left in despair, I said 
 to myself, I will go into the w^oods, and hide me 
 away, not returning to the river, lest I should be 
 compelled to look upon the shedding of the blood 
 of the women and little babes, which I had no 
 power to prevent. But it came into my mind, 
 that, perhaps, the Injuns, not finding me in my 
 wigwam, might lie in wait round about it, expect- 
 ing my return, and so delaying the attack upon 
 friend Ashburn's house ; whereby I might have 
 time to reach him, and warn him of his danger 
 again ; and this idea prevailed with me, so that I rose 
 me up again, and, with little Peter at my side, I 
 ran back again, until I had reached this very field; 
 when Peter gave me to know the Injuns w^ere 
 hard by. Thee don't know little Peter, friend ; 
 truly, he has the strongest nose for an Injun thee 
 ever saw. Does thee not hear how he whines and 
 snuffs along the grass? Now, friend, were it not 
 that this is a bloody spot that Peter remembers 
 well, because of the wdcked deeds he saw per- 
 formed, I w^ould know by his whining, as truly as 
 if he were to open his mouth and say as much in 
 words, that there were evil Injuns nigh at hand, 
 and that it behooved me to be up and a-doing. — 
 Well, friend, as I was saying, — it was with such 
 words as these that little Peter told me that mis- 
 chief was nigh ; and, truly, I had scarce time to 
 hide me in the corn, which was then in the ear, 
 before I heard the direful yells with which the 
 blood-thirsty creatures, who were then round about 
 
178 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 the house, woke up its frighted inmates. Verily, 
 friend, I will not shock thee by telling thee what I 
 heard and saw. There was a fate on the family, 
 and even on the animals that looked to it for pi'O- 
 tection. Neither horse nor cow gave them the 
 alarm ; and even the house-dog slept so soundly, 
 that the enemies dragged loose brush into the porch 
 and fired it, before any one but themselves dream- 
 ed of danger. It was when the flames burst out 
 that the w-arwhoop was sounded ; and when the 
 eyes of the sleepers opened, it was only to see 
 themselves surrounded both by flames and raging 
 Shawnees. Then, friend," continued Nathan, 
 speaking with a faltering and low voice, graduated 
 for the ears of Roland, for whom alone the story 
 was intended, though others caught here and there 
 some of its dismal revealments, " then, thee may 
 think, there was rushing out of men, women, and 
 children, with the cracking of rifles, the crashing 
 of hatchets, the plunge of knives, with yells and 
 shrieks such as would turn thee spirit into ice and 
 water, to hear. It was a fearful massacre ; but, 
 friend, fearful as it was, these eyes of mine had 
 looked on one more dreadful before : thee would 
 not believe it, friend, but thee knows not what 
 them see, who have spent their lives on the Injun 
 border. — Well, friend," continued the narrator, 
 after this brief digression, " while they were mur- 
 dering the stronger, I saw the weakest of all, — 
 the old grandam, with the youngest babe in her 
 arms, come flying into the corn; and she had 
 reached this very tree that has fallen but now, as 
 if to remind me of the story, when the pursuer, — 
 for it was but a single man they sent in chase of 
 the poor feeble old woman, caught up with her, 
 and struck her down with his tomahawk. Then, 
 friend, — for, truly, I saw it all in the light of the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 179 
 
 fire, being scarce two rods off, — he snatched the 
 poor babe from the dying woman's arms, and 
 struck it with the same bloody hatchet. " 
 
 " And you !" exclaimed Roland, leaning from 
 his horse and clutchhig the speaker by the collar, 
 for he was seized with ungovernable indignation, 
 or rather fury, at what he esteemed the cold- 
 blooded cowardice of Nathan, " You!" he cried, 
 grasping him as if he would have torn him to 
 pieces, " You, wretch ! stood by and saw the 
 child murdered!" 
 
 " Friend !" said Nathan, with some surprise at 
 the unexpected assault, but still with great sub- 
 missiveness, " thee is as unjust to me as others. 
 Had I been as free to shed blood as thee theeself, 
 yet could I not have saved the babe in that way, 
 seeing that my gun was taken from me, and I was 
 unarmed. Thee forgets, — or rather I forgot to 
 inform thee, — how, when I told friend Bruce my 
 story, he took my gun from me, saying that * as I 
 was not man enough to use it, I should not be al- 
 lowed to carry it,' and so turned me out naked 
 from the fort. Truly, it was an ill thing of him 
 to take from me that which gave me my meat ; 
 and, truly too, it was doubly ill of him, as it con- 
 cerned the child ; for I tell thee, friend, when I 
 stood in the corn and saw the great brutal Injun 
 raise the hatchet to strike the little child, had 
 there been a gun in my hand, I should — I can't 
 tell thee, friend, what I might have done ; but, 
 truly, I should not have permitted the evil crea- 
 ture to do the bloody deed!" 
 
 " I thought so, by heaven !" said Roland, who 
 had relaxed his grasp, the moment Nathan men- 
 tioned the seizure of the gun, which story was cor- 
 roborated by the account Bruce had himself 
 given of that stretch of authority, — " I thought 
 
180 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 SO : no human creature, not an Indian, unless the 
 veriest dastard and dog that ever hved, could have 
 had arms in his hand, and, on such an occasion, 
 failed to use them ! But you had humanity, — 
 you did something ?" 
 
 '' Friend," said Nathan, meekly, "I did what I 
 could, — but, truly, what could I '( Nevertheless, 
 friend, I did, being set beside myself by the sight, 
 snatch the little babe out of the man's hands, and 
 fly to the woods, hoping, though it was sore 
 wounded, that it might yet live. But alas, before 
 I had run a mile, it died in my arms, and I was 
 covered from head to foot with its blood. It was 
 a sore sight for friend Bruce, whom I found with 
 his people galloping to the ford, to see what there 
 might be in my story : for, it seems, as he told me 
 himself, that, after he had driven me away, he 
 could not sleep for thinking that perhaps I had 
 told the truth. And truth enough, he soon found, 
 I had spoken; for, galloping immediately to Ash- 
 burn's house, he found nothing tliere but the corses 
 of the people, and the house partly consumed, — 
 for, being of green timber, it could not all burn. 
 There was not one of the poor family that es- 
 caped." 
 
 " But they were avenged ?" muttered the sol- 
 dier. 
 
 " If thee calls killing the killers avenging," replied 
 Nathan, " the poor deceased people had vengeance 
 enough. Of the fourteen murderers, for that was 
 the number, eleven were killed before day-dawn, 
 the pursuers having discovered where they had 
 built their fire, and so taken them by surprise ; 
 and of the three that escaped, it was afterwards 
 said by returning captives, that only one made his 
 way home, the other two having perished in the 
 woods, in some way unknown. — But, truly," con- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 181 
 
 tinued Nathan, suddenly diverting his attention 
 from the tragic theme to the motions of his dog, 
 " Httle Peter is more disturbed than is his wont. 
 Truly, he has never had a liking to the spot: I 
 have heard them that said a dog could scent the 
 presence of spirits !" 
 
 " To my mind," said Roland, who had not for- 
 gotten Nathan's eulogium on the excellence of the 
 animal's nose for scenting Indians, and who was 
 somewhat alarmed at what appeared to him the 
 evident uneasiness of little Peter, " he is more like 
 to wind another party of cursed Shaw^nees, than 
 any harmless disembodied spirits." 
 
 " Friend," said Nathan, " it may be that Injuns 
 have trodden upon this field this day, seeing that 
 the wood is full of them; and it is like enough that 
 those very evil creatures at the ford hard-by have 
 stolen hither, before taking their post, to glut their 
 eyes with the sight of the ruins, where the blood 
 of nine poor white persons was shed by their 
 brothers in a single night ; though, truly, in that 
 case, they must have also thought of the thirteen 
 murderers that bled for the victims ; which would 
 prove somewhat a drawback to their satisfaction. 
 No, friend : Peter has his likes and his dislikes, 
 like a human being; and this is a spot he ever 
 approaches with abhorrence, — as, truly, I do my- 
 self, never coming hither, unless when driven, as 
 now, by necessity. But, friend, if thee is in fear, 
 thee shall be satisfied there is no danger before 
 thee: it shall never be said that I undertook to 
 lead thee poor women out of mischief, only to 
 plunge them into peril. I will go before thee to 
 the ruin, which thee sees there by the hollow, and 
 reconnoitre." 
 
 " It needs not," said Roland, who now seeing 
 
 VOL. I. — 16 
 
182 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 the cabin of which they were in search close at 
 hand, and perceiving that Peter's uneasiness had 
 subsided, dismissed his own as being groundless. 
 But notwithstanding, he thouglit proper, as Na- 
 than advanced, to ride forward himself, and in- 
 spect the condition of the building, in which he 
 w^as about to commit the safety of the being he 
 held most dear, and on whose account, only, he 
 felt the thousand anxieties and terrors he never 
 could have otherwise experienced. 
 
 The building was a low cabin of logs, standing, 
 as it seemed, on the verge of an abyss, in which 
 the river could be heard dashing tumultuously, as 
 if among rocks and other obstructions. It was 
 one of those double cabins so frequently found in 
 the west ; that is to say, it consisted of two sepa- 
 rate cots, or wings, standing a little distance apart, 
 but united by a common roof; which thus afforded 
 shelter to the open hall, or passage, between them ; 
 while the roof being continued also from the 
 eaves, both before and behind, in pent-house- 
 fashion, it allowed space for wide porches, in 
 which, and in the open passage, the summer tra- 
 veller, resting in such a cabin, will always find 
 the most agreeable quarters. 
 
 How little soever of common wisdom and dis- 
 cretion the fate of the builders might have shown 
 them to possess, they had not forgotten to provide 
 their solitary dwelling with such defences as were 
 common to all others in the land at that period. 
 A line of palisades, carelessly and feebly construct- 
 ed indeed, but perhaps sufficient for the purpose 
 intended, enclosed the ground on which the cabin 
 stood; and this being placed directly in the centre, 
 and joining it at the sides, thus divided it into two 
 little yards, one in front the other in the rear, in 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 183 
 
 which was space sufficient for horses and cattle, 
 as well as for the garrison, when called to repel 
 assailants. The enclosure behind extended to 
 the verge of the river-bank, which, falling down 
 a sheer precipice of forty or fifty feet, required 
 no defence of stakes, and seemed never to have 
 been provided with them ; while that in front cir- 
 cumscribed a portion of a cleared field entirely 
 destitute of trees, and almost of bushes. 
 
 Such had been the original plan and condition 
 of a fortified private-dwelHng, a favourable speci- 
 men, perhaps, of the family-forts of the day, and 
 which, manned by five or six active and coura- 
 geous defenders, might have bidden defiance to 
 thrice the number of barbarians that had actually 
 succeeded in storming it. Its present appearance 
 was ruinous and melancholy in the extreme. The 
 stockade was in great part destroyed, especially 
 in front, where the stakes seemed to have been 
 rooted up by the winds, or to have fallen from 
 sheer decay : and the right wing or cot, that 
 had sufiered most from the flames, lay a black- 
 ened and mouldering pile of logs, confusedly 
 heaped on its floor, or on the earth beneath. The 
 only part of the building yet standing was the 
 cot on the left hand, which consisted of but a 
 single room, and that, as Roland perceived at a 
 glance, almost roofless and ready to fall. 
 
 Nothing could be more truly cheerless and for- 
 bidding than the appearance of the ruined pile; 
 and the hoarse and dismal rush of the river be- 
 low, heard the more readily by reason of a deep 
 rocky fissure, or ravine, running from the rear 
 yard to the water's edge, through which the 
 sound ascended in hollow echoes, added double 
 horror to its appearance. It was, moreover, ob- 
 
184 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 viously insecure and untenable against any reso- 
 lute enemy, to whom the ruins of the fallen wing 
 and stockade and the rugged depths of the ra- 
 vine oftered much more effectual shelter, as well 
 as the best place of annoyance. The repug- 
 nance, however, that Roland felt to occupy it 
 even for a few hours, was combatted by Na- 
 than, who represented that the ford at which 
 he designed crossing the river, several miles 
 farther down, could not be safely attempted until 
 the rise of the waning moon, or until the clouds 
 should disperse, affording them the benefit of the 
 dim star-light; that the road to it ran through 
 swamps and hollows, now submerged, in which 
 could be found no place of rest for the females, 
 exhausted by fatigue and mental suffering; and 
 that the ruin might be made as secure as the Sta- 
 tion the travellers had left; "for truly," said he, 
 "it is not according to my ways or conscience to 
 leave any thing to chance or good luck, when 
 there is Injun scent in the forest, though it be 
 in the forest ten miles off. Truly, friend, I de- 
 sign, when thee poor tired women is sleeping, to 
 keep watch round the ruin, with Peter to help 
 me; and if theeself and thee two male persons 
 have strength to do the same, it will be all the 
 better for the same." 
 
 " It shall be done," said Roland, as much re- 
 lieved by the suggestion as he was pleased by the 
 humane spirit that prompted it : " my two soldiers 
 can watch, if they cannot fight, and I shall take 
 care they watch well." 
 
 Thus composing the difficulty, preparations 
 were immediately made to occupy the ruin, into 
 which Roland, having previously entered with 
 Emperor, and struck a light, introduced his weary 
 kinswoman with her companion Telle ; while Na- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 185 
 
 than and Pardon Dodge led the horses into the 
 ravine, where they could be easily confined, and 
 allowed to browse and drink at will, being at the 
 same time beyond the reach of observation from 
 any foe that might be yet prowling through the 
 forest. 
 
 16^ 
 
186 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The light struck by the negro was soon suc- 
 ceeded by a fire, for which ample materials lay 
 ready at hand among the ruins ; and as it blazed 
 up from the broken and long deserted hearth, the 
 travellers could better view the dismal aspect of 
 the cabin. It consisted, as has been mentioned, of 
 but a single remaining apartment, with walls of 
 logs, from whose chinks the clay, with which they 
 had been originally plastered, had long since van- 
 ished, with here and there a fragment of a log 
 itself, leaving a thousand gaps for the admission 
 of wind and rain. The ceiling of poles (for it had 
 once possessed a kind of garret) had fallen down 
 under the weight of the rotting roof, of which but 
 a small portion remained, and that in the craziest 
 condition ; and the floor of punc/ieoris, or planks 
 of split logs, was in a state of equal dilapidation, 
 more than half of it having rotted away, and 
 mingled with the earth on which it reposed. 
 Doors and windows there were none; but two 
 mouldering gaps in the front and the rear walls, 
 and another of greater magnitude opening from 
 the side into what had once been the hall or pas- 
 sage, (though now a platform heaped with frag- 
 ments of charred timber,) showed where the nar- 
 row entrance and loop-hole windows had once 
 existed. The former was without leaf or defence 
 of any kind, unless such might have been found 
 in three or four logs standing against the wall hard 
 
NICK OF. THE WOODS. 1 87 
 
 by, whence they could be easily removed and 
 piled against the opening ; for which purpose, Ro- 
 land did not doubt they had been used, and by 
 the houseless Nathan himself. But a better pro- 
 tection was offered by the ruins of the other apart- 
 ment, which had fallen down in such a way as 
 almost to block up the door, leaving a passage in 
 and out, only towards the rear of the building ; 
 and, in case of sudden attack and seizure of this 
 sole entrance, there were several gaps at the bot- 
 tom of the wall, through one of which, in particu- 
 lar, it would be easy enough to effect a retreat. 
 At this place, the floor was entirely wanting, and 
 the earth below washed into a gully communicat- 
 ing with the rocky ravine, of which it might be 
 considered the head. 
 
 But the looks of the soldier did not dwell long 
 upon the dreary spectacle of ruin ; they were 
 soon cast upon the countenance of Edith, con- 
 cealed so long by darkness. It was even wanner 
 and paler than he feared to find it, and her eye 
 shone with an unnatural lustre, as it met his own. 
 She extended her hands and placed them in his, 
 gazed upon him piercingly, but without speaking, 
 or indeed seeming able to utter, a single word. 
 
 " Be of good heart," he said, replying to the 
 look of inquiry ; " we are unfortunate, Edith, but 
 we are safe." 
 
 " Thank Heaven !" she exclaimed, but more 
 wildly than fervently: "I have been looking every 
 moment to see you shot dead at my feet ! Would 
 I had died, Roland, my brother, before I brought 
 
 you to this fatal land But I distress you! Well, 
 
 I will not be frightened more. But is not this an 
 adventure for a woman that never before looked 
 upon a cut finger without fainting? Truly, Ro- 
 land, — ' truly,' as friend Nathan says, — it is as 
 
188 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 ridiculous as frightful : and then this cabin, where 
 they killed so many poor wonaen and children, — 
 is it not a ridiculous lodging place for Edith For- 
 rester? a canopy of clouds, a couch of clay, with 
 owls and snakes for my bed-fellows — truly, truly, 
 truly, it is very ridiculous !" 
 
 It seemed, for a moment, as if the maiden's ef- 
 fort to exchange her melancholy and terror for a 
 more joyous feeling, would harve resulted in pro- 
 ducing even greater agitation than before ; but 
 the soothing words of Roland, and the encourag- 
 ing countenance maintained by Telle Doe, who 
 seemed little affected by their forlorn situation, 
 gradually tranquilHzed her mind, and enabled her 
 the better to preserve the air of levity and mirth- 
 fulness, which she so vainly attempted at first to 
 assume. This moment of calm Roland took ad- 
 vantage of to apprise her of the necessity of re- 
 cruiting her spirits with a few hours' sleep; for 
 which purpose he began to look about him for 
 some suitable place in which to strew her a bed 
 of fern and leaves. 
 
 " Why, here is one strewn for me already," she 
 cried, with an affected laugh, pointing to a corner, 
 in which lay a mass of leaves so green and fresh 
 that they looked as if plucked but a day or two 
 before ; " truly, Nathan has not invited me to his 
 hiding-place to lodge me meanly ; (Heaven for- 
 give me for laughing at the poor man; for w^e 
 owe him our lives !) nay, nor to send me supper- 
 less to bed. See !" she added, pointing to a small 
 brazen kettle, which her quick eye detected among 
 the leaves, and which was soon followed by a 
 second that Emperor stirred up from its conceal- 
 onent, and both of them, as was soon perceived, 
 still retaining the odour of a recent savoury stew : 
 '< Look well. Emperor : where the kitchen is, the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 189 
 
 larder cannot be far distant. I warrant me we 
 shall find that Nathan has provided us a good 
 supper." 
 
 " Such, perhaps, as a woodman only can eat," 
 said Roland, who, somewhat surprised at the su- 
 perfluous number of Nathan's valuables, (for to 
 Nathan, he doubted not, they belonged,) had be- 
 gun stirring the leaves, and succeeded in raking 
 up with his rifle, which he had not laid aside, a 
 little earthen pouch, well stored with parched 
 corn: "A strange fellow, this Nathan," he mut- 
 tered : " he really spoke as if he had not visited 
 the ruin for a considerable period ; whereas it is 
 evident he must have slept here last night. But he 
 seems to affect mystery in all that concerns his 
 own private movements — It is the character of 
 his persuasion." 
 
 While Roland with the females, was thus lay- 
 ing hands, and speculating, upon the supposed 
 chattels of their conductor, Nathan himself enter- 
 ed the apartment, betraying some degree of agita- 
 tion in his countenance ; whilst the faithful Peter, 
 who followed at his side, manifested equal uneasi- 
 ness, by snuffing the air, whining, and rubbing 
 himself frequently against his master's legs. 
 
 " Friends," he cried, abruptly, " Peter talks too 
 plainly to be mistaken : there is mischief nigh at 
 hand, though where, or how it can be, sinner and 
 weak foolish man that I am, I know not: we must 
 leave warm fires and soft beds, and take refuge 
 again in the woods." 
 
 This unexpected announcement again banished 
 the blood from Edith's cheeks. She had, on his 
 entrance, caught the pouch of corn from Roland's 
 hands, intending to present it to the guide, with 
 some such light expressions as should convince 
 her kinsman of her recovered spirits; but the 
 
190 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 visage and words of Nathan struck her dumb, 
 and she stood holding it in her hand, without 
 speaking a word, until it caught Nathan's eye. 
 He snatched it from her grasp, surveying it with 
 astonishment and even alarm, and only ceased to 
 look at it, when little Peter, who had run into the 
 corner and among the bed of leaves, uttered a 
 whine louder than before. The pouch dropped 
 from Nathan's hand as his eye fell upon the shin- 
 ing kettles, on which he gazed as if petrified. 
 
 " What, in Heaven's name, is the matter?" de- 
 manded Roland, himself taking the alarm : " are 
 you frighted at your own kettles ?" 
 
 " Mine !" cried Nathan, clasping his hands, and 
 looking terror and remorse together — " If thee 
 will kill me, friend, thee will scarce do amiss ; for, 
 miserable, bhnd sinner that I am, I have led thee 
 poor luckless women into the very lion's den! into 
 the hiding-place and head-quarters of the very 
 cut-throats that is seeking to destroy thee! Up 
 and away — does thee not hear Peter howling at 
 the door? Hist! Peter, hist! — Truly, this is a pretty 
 piece of business for thee, Nathan Slaughter! — 
 Does thee not hear them close at hand?" 
 
 " I hear the hooting of an owl and the answer 
 of his fellow," replied Roland ; but his words were 
 cut short by a second howl from Peter, and the 
 cry of his master, " Up, if thee be not besotted ; 
 drag thee women by the hands, and follow me." 
 
 With these words, Nathan was leaping towards 
 the door, when a cry from Roland arrested him. 
 He looked round and perceived Edith had fainted 
 in the soldier's arms. " I will save the poor thing 
 for thee — help thou the other," he cried, and 
 snatching her up as if she had been but a feather, 
 he was again in the act of springing to the door, 
 when brought to a stand by a far more exciting 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 191 
 
 impediment. A shriek from Telie Doe, uttered in 
 sudden terror, was echoed by a laugh, strangely 
 wild, harsh, guttural, and expressive of equal 
 triumph and derision, coming from the door; 
 looking to which, the eyes of Nathan and the sol- 
 dier fell upon a tall and naked Indian, shorn and 
 painted, who, rifle in hand, the grim smile yet 
 WTithing on his features, and exclaiming with a 
 mockery of friendly accost, " Bo-zhoo^* brudders, 
 — Injun good friend !" was stepping that moment 
 into the hovel; and as if that spectacle and those 
 sounds were not enough to chill the heart's blood 
 of the spectators, there were seen over his 
 shoulders, the gleaming eyes, and heard behind 
 his back, the malign laughter of three or four 
 equally wild and ferocious companions. 
 
 " To the door, if thee is a man, — rush!" cried 
 Nathan, with a voice more like the blast of a 
 bugle than the tone of a frighted man of peace ; 
 and casting Edith from his arms, he set the exam- 
 ple of attack or flight — Roland scarcely knew 
 which, — by leaping against the breast of the daring 
 intruder. Both fell together across the threshold, 
 and Roland, obeying the call with desperate and 
 frantic ardour, stumbled over their bodies, pitch- 
 ing headlong into the passage, whereby he es- 
 caped the certain death that otherwise awaited 
 him, three several rifle shots having been that in- 
 stant poured upon him from a distance of scarce 
 as many feet. 
 
 " Strike, if thee conscience permits thee !" he 
 heard the voice of Nathan cry in his ears, and 
 
 * Bo-zhoo, — a corruption of the French honjoury a word of 
 salutation adopted by Western Indians from the Voyageurs 
 of Canada, and used by them with great zeal by nig-ht as well 
 as by day. 
 
192 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 the next moment, a shot from the interior of the 
 hovel, heralded by a quavering cry from the faith- 
 ful Emperor, — " Lorra-gor ! nebber harm an In- 
 jun in my life !" struck the hatchet from the shat- 
 tered liand of a foeman, who had taken advan- 
 tage of his downfall to aim a fatal blow at him 
 while rising. A yell of pain came from the 
 maimed and baffled warrior, who, springing over 
 the blackened ruins before the door, escaped the 
 stroke of the clubbed rifle which the soldier aimed 
 at him in return, the piece having been discharged 
 by the fall. The cry of the flying assailant was 
 echoed by what seemed in Roland's ears the yells 
 of fifty supporters, two of whom he saw within 
 six feet of him, brandishing their hatchets, as if 
 in the act of flinging them at his almost defence- 
 less person. It was at this moment that he ex- 
 perienced aid from a quarter whence it was 
 almost least expected ; a rifle was discharged 
 from the ravine, and as one of the fierce foes sud- 
 denly dropped, mortally wounded, upon the floor, 
 he heard the voice of Pardon, the Yankee, cry- 
 ing, in tones of desperation, "When there's no 
 dodging 'em, then I'm the man for 'em, or it an't 
 no matter !" 
 
 " Bravo ! bravely done. Emperor and Dodge 
 both!" cried Roland, to whom this happy and 
 quite unexpected display of courage from his fol- 
 lowers, and its successful results, imparted a de- 
 gree of assurance and hope not before felt ; for, 
 indeed, up to this moment, his feeling had been 
 the mere frenzy of despair ; " courage, and rush 
 on !" And with these words, he did not hesitate 
 to dash against the remaining foe, striking up the 
 uplifted hatchet with his rifle, and endeavouring 
 with the same eflfort to dash his weapon into the 
 warrior's face. But the former part only of the 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 198 
 
 manoeuvre succeeded ; the tomahawk was indeed 
 dashed aside, but the rifle was torn from his own 
 grasp, and the next moment he was clutched as 
 in the embrace of a bear, and pressed with suffo- 
 cating force upon the breast of his undaunted 
 adversar}^ 
 
 " Brudder !" growled the savage, and the foam 
 flew from his grinning hps, advanced until they 
 were almost in contact with the soldier's face, 
 *' Brudder !" he cried, as he felt his triumph, and 
 twined his arms still more tightly around Roland's 
 frame, " Long-knife nothing ! hab a scalp, Shaw- 
 nee !" 
 
 With these words, he sprang from the broken 
 floor of the passage, on which the encounter be- 
 gan, and dragging the soldier along, made as if 
 he would have carried him off alive. But al- 
 though in the grasp of a man of much superior 
 strength, the resolution and activity of Roland 
 preserved him from a destiny at once so fearful 
 and ignoble. He exerted the strength he possess- 
 ed at the instant when the bulky captor was 
 springing from the floor to the broken ground 
 beneath, and with such effect, that, though it did 
 not entirely release him from his grasp, it car- 
 ried them headlong to the earth together ; whence, 
 after a brief and blind struggle, both rose toge- 
 ther, each clutching at the weapon that promised 
 soonest to terminate the contest. The pistols of 
 the soldier, which, as well as Emperor's, the 
 peaceful Nathan had taken the precaution to carry 
 with him into the ruin, had been forgotten in the 
 suddenness and hurry of the assault ; his rifle had 
 been wrested from his hands, and liirown he 
 knew not where. The knife, which, like a true 
 adventurer of the forest, he had buckled in his 
 belt, was ready to be grasped ; but the instinct of 
 
 VOL. 1. — 17 
 
194 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 long habits carried his hand to the broad-sword, 
 which was yet strapped to his thigh ; and this, as 
 he rose, he attempted to draw, not doubting that 
 a single blow of the trusty steel would rid him of 
 his brown enemy. But the Shawnee, as bold, as 
 alert, and far more discreet, better acquainted, 
 too, with those savage personal rencontres which 
 make up so large a portion of Indian warfare, 
 had drawn his knife before he had yet regained 
 his footing ; and before the Virginian's sword was 
 half unsheathed, the hand that tugged at it was 
 again seized and held as in a vice, while the 
 warrior, elevating his own free weapon above his 
 head, prepared, with a laugh and whoop of tri- 
 umph, to plunge it into the soldier's throat. His 
 countenance, grim with war-paint, grimmer still 
 with ferocious exultation, w^as distinctly perceiv- 
 ed, the bright blaze of the fire shining through the 
 gaps of the hovel, so as to illuminate every fea- 
 ture ; and Roland, as he strove in vain to clutch 
 at the uplifted arm so as to avert the threatened 
 blow, could distinguish every motion of the wea- 
 pon and every change of his foeman's visage. 
 But he did not even then despair, for he was in 
 all circumstances affecting only himself, a man of 
 true intrepidity ; and it was only when, on a sud- 
 den, the light wholly vanished irom the hovel, as 
 if the brands had been scattered and trodden out, 
 that he began to anticipate a fatal result from the 
 advantage possessed by his opponent. But at that 
 very instant, and while, blinded by the sudden 
 darkness, he was expecting the blow which he no 
 longer knew how to avoid, the laugh of the 
 warrior, now louder and more exultant than be- 
 fore, was suddenly changed to a yell of agony. 
 A jet of warm blood, at the same moment, gush- 
 ed over Roland's right arm ; and the savage, 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 195 
 
 Struck by an unknown hand, or by a random ball, 
 fell a dead man at his feet, overwhelming the sol- 
 dier in his fall. 
 
 " Up, and do according to thee conscience !" 
 cried Nathan Slaughter; whose friendly arm, 
 more nervous than that of his late foe, at this con- 
 juncture jerked Roland from beneath the body; 
 " for truly, thee fights like unto a young lion, or 
 an old bear; and, truly, I will not censure thee, if 
 thee kills a whole dozen of the wicked cut-throats! 
 Here is thee gun and thee pistols : fire and shout 
 aloud with thee voice ; for, of a verity, thee ene- 
 mies is confounded by thee resolution : do thee 
 make them believe thee has been reinforced bj^ 
 numbers." 
 
 And with that, the peaceful Nathan, uplifting 
 his voice, and springing amoni]^ the ruins from 
 log to log, began to utter a series of shouts, all 
 designed to appear as if coming from difl?erent 
 throats, and all expressing such manl}^ courage 
 and defiance, that even Pardon Dodge, who yet 
 lay ensconced among the rocks of the ravine, and 
 Emperor, the negro, who, it seems, had taken post 
 behind the ruins at the door, felt their spirits wax 
 resolute and valiant, and added their voices to the 
 din, the one roaring, " Come on, ye 'tarnal crit- 
 turs, if you must come !" while the other bellow- 
 ed, with equal spirit, " Don't care for niggah Injun 
 no way — will fight and die for massa and 
 missie !" 
 
 All these several details, from the moment of 
 the appearance of the warrior at the door until 
 the loud shouts of the besieged travellers took the 
 place of the savage v^^hoops previously sounded, 
 passed in fewer moments than we have taken 
 pages to record them. The rush of Nathan 
 against the leader, the discomfiture of one, and 
 
196 • MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 the death of liis two other comrades, were iiideea 
 the work of but an instant, as it seemed to Row- 
 land ; and he was scarce aware of the assault, 
 before he perceived that it was over. The suc- 
 cessful, and, doubtless, the wholly unexpected, re- 
 sistance of the little party, resulting in a manner 
 so fata.1 to the advanced guard of assailants, had 
 struck terror and confusion into the main body, 
 whose presence had been only made known by 
 their yells, not a single shot having yet been fired 
 by them. 
 
 It was in this moment of confusion that Nathan 
 sprang to the side of Roland, wdio was hastily re- 
 charging his piece, and catching him by the hand, 
 said, with a voice that betrayed the deepest agi- 
 tation, though his countenance was veiled in night, 
 — "Friend, I have betrayed, thee poor women into 
 danger, so that the axe ajxl scalping-knife is now 
 near their innocent poor heads !" 
 
 " It needs not to speak of it," said Roland ; add- 
 ing hastily, " The miscreant that entered the 
 cabin — did you kill him 1" 
 
 ''Kill, friend ! /kill 1" echoed Nathan, with ac- 
 cents more disturbed than ever ; " would thee have 
 me a murderer ? Truly, I did creep over him, 
 and leave the cabin. " 
 
 "And left him in it ahve!'' cried Roland, who 
 was about to rush into the hovel, when Nathan 
 detained him, saying, "Don't thee be alarmed, 
 friend. Truly, thee may think it w^as ill of me to 
 fall upon him sa violently; but, truly, he must 
 have split his head on a log, or wounded himself 
 with a splinter; — or perhaps the coloured person 
 stuck him with a knife;- but, truly, as it happen- 
 ed, his blood spouted on my hand, by reason of 
 the hurt he got; so that I left him clean dead." 
 
 <' Good !" said Roland ; " but, by Heaven, i 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 197 
 
 hoped and believed you had yourself finished him 
 like a man. But time presses : we must retreat 
 again to the woods, — they are yet open behind 
 us." 
 
 " Thee is mistaken," said Nathan ; and, as if to 
 confirm his w^ords, there arose at that instant a 
 loud whooping, with the crack of a dozen or more 
 rifles, let fly with impotent rage by the enemy, 
 showing plainly enough that the ruin was already 
 actually environed. 
 
 " The ravine, — the river !" cried Forrester ; we 
 can swim it w^ith the horses, if it be not ford- 
 able." 
 
 " It is a torrent that would sweep thee, with thee 
 strongest war-horse, to perdition," muttered Na- 
 than : "does thee not hear how it roars among 
 the rocks and clifl^s ? It is here deep, narrow, and 
 rocky; and, though, in the season of drought, a 
 child might step across it from rock to rock, it is 
 a cataract in the time of floods. No, friend ; I 
 have brought thee into a trap whence thee has no 
 escape, unless thee would desert thee poor helpless 
 women." 
 
 " Put but them in safety," said Roland, " and 
 care not for the rest. — And yet I do not despair: 
 we have shown what we can do by resolution : 
 we can keep the cut-throats at bay till the morn- 
 
 ing-" 
 
 " And what will that advantage thee, except to 
 see thee poor females murdered in the light of 
 the sun, instead of having them killed out of thee 
 sight in darkness ? Truly, the first glimmer of 
 dawn v^ill be the signal of death to all ; for then 
 the Shawnees will find thee weakness, if indeed 
 they do not find it before." 
 
 " Man !" said Roland, " why should you drive 
 me to despair? Give me better comfort, — give me 
 17* 
 
198 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 counsel, or say no more. You have brouglit us to 
 this pass : do your best to save us, or our blood be 
 upon your head." 
 
 To these words of unjust reproach, wrung from 
 the young soldier by the bitterness of his feelings- 
 Nathan at first made no reply. Preserving silence 
 for awhile, he said, at last, — 
 
 " Well, friend y I counsel thee to be of good 
 heart, and to do what thee can, making thee ene- . 
 mies,. since thee cannot increase thee friends, as 
 few in numbei's as possible ; to do which, friend,'* 
 he added, suddenly, " if thee w^ill shoot that evil 
 creature that lies like a log on the earth, creeping 
 towards the ruin, I will have no objection !" 
 
 With these words, which were uttered in a low- 
 voice, Nathan, pulling the young man behind a 
 screen of fallen timbers near to which they stood, 
 endeavoured to point him out the enemy whom 
 his eye had that moment detected crawling to- 
 wards the hovel with the subtle motion of a ser- 
 pent. But the vision of Roland, not yet accustom- 
 ed to trace objects in the darkness of a wood, 
 failed to discover the approaching foe. 
 
 " Truly," said Nathan, somewhat impatiently, 
 *' if thee will not consider it as an evil thing ol' 
 me, and a blood-guiltiness, I will hold thee gun for 
 thee, and thee shall pull the trigger !" — which 
 piece of service the man of peace, having doubt- 
 less satisfied his conscience of its lawfulness, was 
 actually about to render the soldier, when the 
 good intention was set at naught by the savage 
 suddenly leaping to his feet, followed by a dozen 
 others, all springing, as it seemed, out of the 
 earth, and rushing with wild yells against the 
 ruin. The suddenness and fury of the attack 
 struck dismay to the bosom of the soldier, who 
 discharging his rifle, and snatching up his pistols* 
 
NICK or THE WOODS. 199 
 
 already in imagination beheld the bloody fingers 
 of a barbarian grasped among the bright locks of 
 his Edith; when Nathan, crying, "Blood upon 
 my hands, but not upon my head !^ — give it to 
 them, murdering dogs !" let fly his own piece upon 
 the throng ; the effect of which, together with the 
 discharge of Roland's pistols immediately after, 
 was such as to stagger the assailants, of w^hom 
 but a single one preserved resolution enough to 
 advance upon the defenders, whooping to his com- 
 panions in vain to follow. " Thee will remember I 
 fight to save the Hves of thee helpless women !" 
 muttered Nathan, in Roland's ear ; and then, as if 
 the first act of warfare had released him for ever 
 from all peaceful obligations, awoke a courage and 
 appetite for blood superior even to the soldier's, 
 and, in other w^ords, set him entirely beside him- 
 self, he rushed against the advancing Shaw^nee, 
 dealing him a blow with the butt of his heavy- 
 stocked rifle that crushed through skull and brain 
 as through a gourd, killing the man on the spot. 
 Then, leaping like a buck to avoid the shot of the 
 others, he rushed back to the ruin, and grasping 
 the hand of the admiring soldier, and wringing it 
 with all his might, he cried, " Thee sees what thee 
 has brought me to ! Friend, thee has seen me shed 
 a man's blood ! — But, nevertheless, friend, the vil- 
 lains shall not kill thee poor women, nor harm a 
 hair of their heads." 
 
 The valour of the man of peace was fortunately 
 seconded on this occasion by Dodge and the ne- 
 gro, the former from his hiding place in the ravine, 
 the latter from among the ruins ; and the enemy, 
 thus seriously warned of the danger of approach- 
 ing too nigh a fortress manned by w'hat very 
 naturally appeared to them eight difierent per- 
 sons, — for such, including the pistols, was the 
 
200 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 number of fire-arms, — retired precipitately to the 
 woods, where they expressed their hostihty only 
 by occasional whoops, and now and then by a shot 
 fired impotendy against the ruins. 
 
 The success of this second defence, the spirited 
 behaviour of Dodge and Emperor, but more than 
 all the happy change in the principles and practice 
 of Nathan, who seemed as if about to prove that 
 he could deserve the nickname of Bloody, so long 
 bestowed upon him in derision, greatly relieved 
 the spirits of the soldier, who was not without 
 hopes of being able to maintain the contest until 
 the enemy should be discouraged and driven oft", 
 or some providential accident bring him succour. 
 He took advantage of the cessation of hostilities, 
 to creep into the hovel and whisper words of as- 
 surance to his feebler dependants, of whom indeed 
 Telie Doe now betrayed the greatest distress and 
 agitation, while Edith on the contrary maintained, 
 as he judged — for the fire was extinguished, and 
 he saw not her countenance — a degree of tran- 
 quillity he had not dared to hope. It was a tran- 
 quillity, however, resulting from despair and 
 stupor, — a lethargy of spirit, resulting from over- 
 wrought feelings, in which she happily remained, 
 more than half unconscious of what was passing 
 around her. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The enemy, twice repulsed, and on both oc- 
 casions with severe loss, had been taught the folly 
 of exposing themselves too freely to the fire of the 
 travellers ; but although driven back, they mani- 
 fested little inclination to fly further than was ne- 
 cessary to obtain shelter, and as little to give over 
 their fierce purposes. Concealing themselves 
 severally behind logs, rocks, and bushes, and so 
 disposing their force as to form a line around the 
 ruin, open only towards the river, where escape 
 was obviously impracticable, they employed them- 
 selves keeping a strict watch upon the hovel, 
 firing repeated volleys, and as often uttering yells, 
 with which they sought to strike terror into the 
 hearts of the travellers. Occasionally some sin- 
 gle warrior, bolder than the rest, would creep 
 near the ruins, and obtaining such shelter as he 
 could, discharge his piece at any mouldering 
 beam, or other object, which his fancy converted 
 into the exposed body of a defender. But the 
 travellers had taken good care to establish them- 
 selves in such positions among the ruins as offered 
 the best protection; and although the bullets 
 whistled sharp and nigh, not a single one had yet 
 received a wound ; nor was there much reason to 
 apprehend injury, so long as the darkness of night 
 befriended them. 
 
 Yet it was obvious to all, that this state of se- 
 curity could not last long, and that it existed only 
 
202 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 because the enemy was not yet aware of his ad- 
 vantage. The condition of the ruins was such 
 that a dozen men of sufficient spirit, dividing 
 themselves, and creeping along the earth, might, 
 at any moment make their way to any and every 
 part of the hovel, without being seen ; when a 
 single rush must put it in their power. An open 
 assault, indeed, from the whole body of besiegers, 
 whose number was reckoned by Nathan at full 
 fifteen or twenty, must have produced the same 
 success, though with the loss of several lives. A 
 random shot might at any moment destroy or dis- 
 able one of the little garrison, and thus rob one 
 important corner of the hovel, which from its di- 
 lapidated state, was wholly indefensible from with- 
 in, of defence. It was, indeed, as Roland felt, 
 more than folly to hope that all should escape un- 
 harmed for many hours longer. But the worst 
 fear of all was that previously suggested by Na- 
 than : all might survive the perils of the night; 
 but what fate was to be expected, when the com- 
 ing of day should expose the party, in all its true 
 weakness, to the eyes of the enemy 1 If relief 
 came not before morning, Roland's heart whis- 
 pered him, it must come in vain. But the proba- 
 bilities of relief, — what were they? The question 
 was asked of Nathan, and the answer went like 
 iron through Roland's soul. They were in the 
 deepest and most solitary part of the forest, 
 twelve miles from Bruce's Station, and at least 
 eight from that at which the emigrants were to 
 lodge ; with no other places within twice the dis- 
 tance, from which help could be obtained. They 
 had left, three or four miles behind, the main and 
 only road on which volunteers, summoned from 
 the Western Stations to repel the invasion, of 
 which, the news had arrived before Roland's de- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 203 
 
 parture from Bruce's village, could be expected to 
 pass ; if indeed the strong force of the enemy- 
 posted at the Upper Ford had not cut oft^all com- 
 munication between the two districts. From 
 Bruce's Station, httle or no assistance could be 
 hoped, the entire strength of its garrison, as Ro- 
 land well knew, having long since departed to 
 share in the struggle on the north side of Ken- 
 tucky. Assistance could be looked for only from 
 his late companions, the emigrants, from whom 
 he had parted in an evil hour. But how were 
 they to be made acquainted with his situation ? 
 
 The discussion of these questions almost dis- 
 tracted the young man. Help could only come 
 from themselves. Would it not be possible to cut 
 their way through the besiegers ? He proposed a 
 thousand wald schemes of escape ; now he would 
 mount his trusty steed, and dashing among the 
 enemy, receive their fire, distract their attention, 
 and perhaps draw them in pursuit, while Nathan 
 and the others galloped off with the women in 
 another quarter; and again, he would plunge 
 with them into the boiling torrent below, trust- 
 ing to the strength of the horses to carry them 
 through in safety. 
 
 To these and other wild proposals, uttered in 
 the intervals of combat, which was still main- 
 tained, with occasional demonstrations on the 
 part of the enemy of advancing to a third assault, 
 Nathan replied only by representing the certain 
 death they would bring upon all, especially ' the 
 poor helpless women ;' whose condition, with the 
 reflection, that he had brought them into it, seem- 
 ed ever to dwell upon his mind, producing feel- 
 ings of remorseful excitement not inferior even to 
 the compunctions which he expressed at every 
 shot discharged by him at the foe. Indeed his con- 
 
*204 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 science seemed sorely distrest and perplexed; 
 now he upbraided himself with being the murder- 
 er of the two poor women, and now of his Shaw- 
 nee fellow-creatures; now he wrung the soldier 
 by the hand, begging him to bear witness, that he 
 was shedding blood, not out of malice, or wanton- 
 ness, or even self-defence, but purely to save the 
 innocent scalps of poor women, whose blood 
 would be otherwise on his head ; and now beseech- 
 ing the young man wdth equal fervour to let the 
 world know of his doings, that the blame might 
 fall, not upon the faith of which he was an unw^or- 
 thy professor, but upon him, the evil-doer and 
 back-slider. But with all his remorse and contri- 
 tion, he manifested no inchnation to give over the 
 work of fighting ; but, on the contrary, fired 
 aw^ay with extreme good-will at every evil Shaw- 
 nee creature that showed himself, encouraging 
 Roland to do the same, and exhibiting throughout 
 the whole contest the most exemplary courage 
 and good conduct. 
 
 But courage and good conduct, although so un- 
 expectedly manifested, in the time of need, by all 
 his companions, Roland felt, could only serve to 
 defer for a few hours the fate of his party. The 
 night wore away fast, the assailants grew bolder ; 
 and from the louder yells and more frequent shots 
 coming from them, it seemed as if their numbers, 
 instead of diminishing under his own fire, were 
 gradually increasing, by the dropping in of their 
 scouts from the forest. At the same time, he be- 
 came sensible that his stores of ammunition were 
 fast decreasing. 
 
 "Friend !" said Nathan, wringing the soldier's 
 hand for the twentieth time, when made acquaint- 
 ed with the deficiency, "it is written, that thee 
 
?riCK OF THE WOODS, 205 
 
 women shall be murdered before thee eyes ! Ne- 
 vertheless I will do my best to save them. Friend. 
 J must leave thee ! Thee shall have assistance. 
 Can thee hold out the hovel till morning? — But it 
 is foolish to ask thee ; thee mitst hold it out ; and 
 with none save the coloured [)erson and the man 
 Dodge, to help thee : for I say to thee, it has come 
 to this at last, as I thought it would, — I must break 
 through the lines of thee Injun foes, and find thee 
 assistance." 
 
 " If you but could P' said Roland, grasping at 
 the hope ; " but how to pass them in safety? Hark 
 you, man, we can, by a show of attack on our 
 own part, draw a fire from the villains; and then 
 a horseman as familiar as yourself with the woods, 
 might dash through and effect his escape. We 
 will do this: you shall have the best horse, — Bria- 
 reus himself: worn and exhausted as he is, he will 
 bear you off at the top of his speed, and fall dead, 
 before he attempts to slacken it. With him, you 
 can reach the emigrants in half an hour; and 
 then, then, Heaven be praised! you will find men 
 brave and true, who will follow you as quickly to 
 the rescue." 
 
 " It would be the better for thee poor women,'* 
 replied Nathan, ^' if I had a fleet horse to bear me 
 on the way faster than I can run on my own legs ; 
 but, truly, friend, the riding away of a man on 
 horseback through this crew of murdering Injuns, 
 is no such safe matter as thee thinks, where there 
 are knives and axes, as w^ell as rifle-bullets; and 
 it would, besides, be the ruin of thee and thee 
 poor women, as showing the lessening of thee 
 numbers, and the fear that was on thee spirit. Of 
 a truth, what I do must be done in secret; thee 
 enemies must not know it. I must creep among 
 hem, friend, and make my way on foot." 
 ^vo L. I. — 18 
 
206 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 " It is impossible," said Roland, in despair ; 
 you will only provoke your destruction." 
 
 " It may be, friend, as thee says," responded 
 Nathan ; " nevertheless, friend, for thee women's 
 sake, I will adventure it; for it is I, miserable sin- 
 ner that I am, that have brought them to this 
 pass, and that must bring them out of it again, if 
 man can do it. If I succeed, and thee friends is 
 the men thee says, truly, then I shall save thee life 
 and the lives of all ; if I fail, then, friend, I shall 
 not see the sight I have seen before, — the death of 
 innocent, helpless women under the Injun scalp- 
 ing-knife. Friend, I tell thee," he continued, " I 
 must creep through thee foes ; and with Heaven's 
 help and little Peter's, truly, it may be that I shall 
 creep through them successfully." 
 
 At a moment of less grief and desperation, Ro- 
 land would have better appreciated the magnitude 
 of the service which Nathan thus offered to at- 
 tempt, and even hesitated to permit what must 
 have manifestly seemed the throwing away of a 
 human hfe. But the emergency was too great 
 to allow the operation of any but selfish feel- 
 ings. The existence of his companions, the life 
 of his Edith, depended upon procuring relief, 
 and this could be obtained in no other way. If the 
 undertaking was dangerous in the extreme, he 
 saw it with the eyes of a soldier, as well as a 
 lover; it was a feat he would himself have dared 
 without hesitation, could it have promised, in his 
 hands, any relief to his followers. 
 
 " Go, then, and God be with you," he muttered, 
 eagerly ; " you have our lives in your hand. But 
 it will be long, long before you can reach the 
 band on foot. Yet do not weary or pause by the 
 way. I have but little wealth, — but with what I 
 have, I will reward you." 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 207 
 
 ** Friend," said Nathan, proudly, " what I do, I 
 do for no lucre of reward, but for pity of thee poor 
 women ; for, truly, I have seen the murdering and 
 scalping of poor women before, and the seeing of 
 the same has left blood upon my head, which is a 
 mournful thing to think of" 
 
 "Well, be not offended: do what you can — 
 our lives may rest on a single minute." 
 
 " I will do what I can, friend," replied Nathan ; 
 " and if I can but pass safely through thee foes, 
 there is scarce a horse in thee company, were it 
 even thee war-horse, that shall run to thee friends 
 more fleetly. But, friend, do thee hold out the 
 house ; use thee powder charily ; keep up the spirits 
 of thee two men ; and be of good heart theeself, 
 fighting valiantly, and slaying according to thee 
 conscience: and then, friend, if it be Heaven's 
 will, I will return to thee and help thee out of thee 
 troubles." 
 
 With these words of encouragement, Nathan 
 immediately prepared for the undertaking, despe- 
 rate as it seemed, of making his way through the 
 lines of the enemy. His preparations were few 
 and easily made, and consisted principally of dis- 
 burthening himself of his powder and ball, which 
 he gave to Roland to be divided among the three 
 remaining combatants, in drawing up the skirts of 
 his leather coat, which he belted round his waist 
 in such way as to leave his legs free for the pecu- 
 liar duty to which they were to be put, and in 
 summoning to his side little Peter, whom he had 
 taken the earliest opportunity to stow away in a 
 safe place among the ruins, where he had quietly 
 remained ever since ; for, as Nathan said, " Little 
 Peter's good qualities was, not in fighting, but in 
 taking care of his master." His rifle, although he 
 had robbed himself of ammunition, leaving but a 
 
20S KICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 single charge in his horn and pouch, Nathan ob- 
 stinately insisted on retaining and carrying with 
 him, however much it might encumber him in his^ 
 flight; and with this poised in his hand, his knife 
 transferred from his belt to his breast, where it 
 was ready to be grasped at a moment's warning, 
 and little Peter crouched upon the earth before 
 him, to guide the way, he prepared to execute his 
 bold purpose, with an alacrity that awoke some- 
 thing like suspicion in Roland's bosom. 
 
 " If you fail me, man," he muttered, with some 
 agitation, as he pondered upon the effects of such 
 defection, " if you have devised this undertaking 
 only to efl^ect your own escape, deserting me, de- 
 serting my friends, whom you leave in such ex- 
 tremity, abandoned to our fate, — may Heaven 
 fail you in like manner, and that in the time of 
 your greatest need !'* 
 
 " If thee knew what it was to creep through a 
 camp of w'arring Shawnces," said Nathan, with 
 great equanimity, " thee would allow that the 
 cowardly and betraying man w^ould look for 
 some safer way of escape. Do thee but be as 
 true to theeself and thee women as I will, and it 
 may be that all shall yet escape unharmed. Fare- 
 well, friend, '^ he continued, grasping Roland's 
 hand, and grasping it as one who meditated the 
 mean and cowardly desertion which Roland had 
 for a moment imputed to him, could never have 
 done ; " if I fall, I shall not hear the last shriek of 
 thee murdered women; if I live, and thee can 
 make good thee defence till morning, neither shalt 
 thou." 
 
 With these words, Nathan turned from the sol- 
 dier, setting out upon his dangerous duty with a 
 courage and self-devotion of which Roland did 
 not yet know all the merit. He threw himself 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 209 
 
 upon the earth, and muttering to Httle Peter, 
 " Now, Peter, as thee ever served thee master 
 well and truly, serve him well and truly now," 
 began to ghde aw^ay among the ruins, making his 
 way from log to log and bush to bush, close be- 
 hind the animal, who seemed to determine the 
 period and direction of every movement. His 
 course was down the river, the opposite of that 
 by which the party had reached the ruin, in 
 which quarter the woods were nighest, and pro- 
 mised the most accessible, as w^ell as the best shel- 
 ter; though that could be reached only in the event 
 of his successfully avoiding the different barba- 
 rians hidden among the bushes on its border. He 
 soon vanished, with his dog, from the eyes of the 
 soldier; who now, in pursuance of instructions 
 previously given him by Nathan, caused his two 
 followers to let fly a volley among the trees, which 
 had the expected effect of drawing another in re- 
 turn from the foes, accompanied by their loudest 
 whoops of menace and defiance. In this man- 
 ner, Nathan, as he drew nigh the wood, was en- 
 abled to form correct opinions as to the different 
 positions of the besiegers, and to select that point 
 in the line which seemed the weakest ; while the 
 attention of the foe was in a measure drawn off, 
 so as to give him the better opportunity of ad- 
 vancing on them unobserved. With this object in 
 view, a second and third volley were fired by the 
 little garrison ; after which they ceased making 
 such feints of hostility, and left him as he had 
 directed, to his fate. 
 
 It was then that, with a beating heart, Ro- 
 land awaited the event, and, as he began to 
 figure to his imagination the perils which Nathan 
 must necessarily encounter in the undertaking, 
 he listened for the shout of triumph that he feared 
 18* 
 
210 FICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 would, each moment, proclaim the capture or 
 death of his messenger. But he listened in vain- 
 —at least, in vain Tor such sounds as his skill 
 might interpret into evidences of Nathan^s fate : 
 he heard nothing but the occasional crack of a 
 rifle aimed at the ruin, with the yell of the sa- 
 vage that fired it, the rush of the breeze, the 
 rumbling of the thunder, and the deep-toned 
 echoes from the river below. There was nothing 
 whatever occurred, at least for a quarter of an 
 hour, by which he might judge what was the 
 issue of the enterprise: and he was beginning to 
 indulge the hope that Nathan had passed safely 
 through the besiegers, when a sudden yell of a 
 peculiarly wild and thrilling character, was utter- 
 ed in the wood in the quarter in which Nathan 
 had fled ; and this, exciting, as it seemed to do, a 
 prodigious sensation among his foes, filled him 
 with anxiety and dread. To his ears the shout 
 expressed fury and exultation such as might well 
 be felt at the sudden discovery and capture of the 
 luckless messenger; and his fear that such had 
 been the end of Nathan's undertaking was greatly 
 increased by what followed. The shots and 
 whoops suddenly ceased, and, for ten minutes or 
 more, all was silent, save the roar of the river, 
 and the whispering of the fitful breeze. " They 
 have taken him alive, poor wretch!" muttered 
 the soldier, " and now they are forcing from him 
 a confession of our weakness! " 
 
 It seemed as if there might be some foundation 
 for the suspicion ; for presently a great shout burst 
 from the enemy, and the next moment a rush was 
 made against the ruin as if by the whole force of 
 the enemy. " Fire !" shouted Roland to his com- 
 panions : " if we must die, let it be like men ;'* 
 and no sooner did he behold the dark figures of 
 
WICK OP THE WOODS, 211 
 
 the assailants leaping among the ruins, than he 
 discharged his rifle and the pair of pistols which 
 he had reserved in his own hands, the other pair 
 having been divided between Dodge and the ne- 
 gro, who used them with equal resolution, and 
 wdth an effect that Roland had not anticipated : 
 the assailants, apparently daunted by the weight 
 of the volley, seven pieces having been discharged 
 in rapid succession, instantly beat a retreat, re- 
 suming their former positions. From these, how- 
 ever, they now maintained an almost incessant 
 fire ; and by and by several of them, stealing cau- 
 tiously up, effected a lodgment in a distant part of 
 the ruins, whence, without betraying any especial 
 desire to come to closer quarters, they began to 
 carry on the war in a manner that greatly in- 
 creased Roland's alarm, their bullets flying about 
 and into the hovel so thickly that he became 
 afraid lest some of them should reach its hapless 
 inhabitants. He was already debating within 
 himself the propriety of transferring Edith and 
 her companion from this ruinous and now danger- 
 ous abode to the ravine, where they might be 
 sheltered from all danger, at least for a time, 
 when a bolt of lightning, as he at first thought it, 
 shot from the nearest group of foes, flashed over 
 his head, and striking what remained of the roof, 
 stood trembling in it, an arrow of blazing fire. 
 The appearance of this missile, followed, as it 
 immediately was, by several others discharged 
 from the same bow, confirmed the soldier's reso- 
 lution to remove the females, while it greatly in- 
 creased his anxiety ; for although there was little 
 fear that the flames could be communicated from 
 the arrows to the roof so deeply saturated by the 
 late rains, yet each, while burning, served, like a 
 flambeau, to illuminate the ruins below, and must 
 
212 MCK or THE WOODS. 
 
 be expected before long to reveal the helplessness 
 of the party, and to light the besiegers to their 
 prey. 
 
 With such fears on his mind, he hesitated no 
 longer to remove his cousin and her companion 
 to the ravine ; which was effected with but little 
 risk or difficulty, the ravine heading, as was men- 
 tioned before, under the floor of the hovel itself, 
 and its borders being so strewn with broken tim- 
 bers and planks, as to screen the party from ob- 
 servation. He concealed them both among the 
 rocks and brambles with which the hollow 
 abounded, listened a moment to the rush of the 
 flood as it swept the precipitous bank, and the 
 roar with which it seemed struggling among 
 rocky obstructions above, and smiling w^ith the 
 grim thought, that, when resistance was no longer 
 availing, there was yet a refuge for his kins- 
 woman within the dark bosom of those troubled 
 waters, to w^hich he felt, with the stern resolution 
 of a Roman father rather than of a christian 
 lover, that he could, when nothing else remained, 
 consign her with his own hands, he returned to 
 the ruins, to keep up the appearance of still de- 
 fending it, and to preserve the entrance of the 
 ravine. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 213 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The flaming arrows were still shot in vain at 
 the w^ater-soaked roof, and the combustibles w^ith 
 which they were armed, burning out very rapidly, 
 produced but little of that effect in illuminating 
 the ruins which Roland had apprehended, and for 
 which they had been perhaps in part designed ; 
 and, in consequence, the savages soon ceased to 
 shoot them. A more useful ally to the besiegers 
 was promised in the moon, which was now rising 
 over the woods, and occasionally revealing her 
 wan and wasted crescent through gaps in the 
 clouds. Waning in her last quarter, and strug- 
 gling amid banks of vapour, she yet retained suf- 
 ficient magnitude and lustre, when risen a few 
 more degrees, to dispel the almost sepulchral 
 darkness that had hitherto invested the ruins, and 
 thus proved a more effectual protection to the 
 travellers than their own courage. Of this Roland 
 was well aware, and he watched the increasing 
 light with sullen and gloomy forbodings, though 
 still exhorting his two supporters to hope and 
 courage, and setting them a constant example of 
 vigilance and resolution. But neither hope nor 
 courage, neither vigilance nor resolution, availed 
 to deprive the foe of the advantage he had gained 
 in effecting a lodgment among the ruins, where 
 four or five different warriors still maintained a 
 hot fire upon the hovel, doing, of course, Httle 
 harm, as it was entirely deserted, but threatening 
 
214 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 mischief enough, when it should fall into their 
 hands, — a catastrophe that was deferred only in 
 consequence of the extreme cautiousness with 
 which they now conducted hostilities, the travel- 
 lers making only a show of defending it, though 
 sensible that it almost entirely commanded the 
 ravine. 
 
 It was now more than an hour and a half since 
 Nathan had departed, and Roland was beginning 
 himself to feel the hope he encouraged in the 
 others, that the man of peace had actually suc- 
 ceeded in effecting his escape, and that the wild 
 whoop which he at first esteemed the evidence of 
 his capture or death, and the assault that followed 
 it, had been caused by some circumstance having 
 no relation to Nathan whatever, — perhaps by the 
 arrival of a reinforcement, whose coming had in- 
 fused new spirit into the breasts of the so long 
 baffled assailants. " If he have escaped," he mut- 
 tered, "he must already be near the camp: — a 
 strong man and fleet runner might reach it in an 
 hour. In another hour, — nay, perhaps in half an 
 hour, for there are good horses and bold hearts in 
 the band, — I shall hear the rattle of their hoofs in 
 the wood, and the yells of these cursed bandits, 
 scattered like dust under their footsteps. If I can 
 but hold the ravine for an hour ! Thank Heaven, 
 the moon is a second time lost in clouds, the thun- 
 der is again rolling through the sky ! A tempest 
 now were better than gales of Araby, — a thunder- 
 gust were our salvation." 
 
 The wishes of the soldier seemed about to be 
 fulfilled. The clouds, which for half an hour had 
 been breaking up, again gathered, producing 
 thicker darkness than before ; and heavy peals of 
 thunder, heralded by pale sheets of lightning that 
 threw a ghastly but insufficient light over objects, 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 215 
 
 were again heard rattling at a distance over the 
 woods. The fire of the savages began to slacken, 
 and by and by entirely ceased. They waited per- 
 haps for the moment when the increasing glare 
 of the lightning should enable them better to dis- 
 tinguish between the broken timbers, the objects 
 of so many wasted volleys, and the crouching 
 bodies of the defenders. 
 
 The soldier took advantage of this moment of 
 tranquillity to descend to the river to quench his 
 thirst, and to bear back some of the liquid element 
 to his fainting followers. While engaged in this 
 duty he cast his eyes upon the scene, surveying 
 with sullen interest the flood that cutoff his escape 
 from the fatal hovel. The mouth of the ravine 
 was wide and scattered over with rocks and 
 bushes, that even projected for some little space 
 into the water, the latter vibrating up and down 
 in a manner that proved the strength and irregu- 
 larity of the current. The river was here bound- 
 ed by frowning clifts, from which, a furlong or 
 two above, had fallen huge blocks of stone that 
 greatly contracted its narrow channel; and among 
 these the swollen waters surged and foamed with 
 the greatest violence, producing that hollow roar, 
 which was so much in keeping with the solitude 
 of the ruin, and so proper an accompaniment to 
 the growhng thunder and the wild yells of the 
 warriors. Below these massive obstructions, and 
 opposite the mouth of the ravine, the channel had 
 expanded into a pool ; in which the waters might 
 have regained their tranquillity and rolled along 
 in peace, but for the presence of an island, which, 
 growing up in the centre of the expanse, consoli- 
 dated by the roots of a thousand willows and 
 other trees that delight in such humid soils, and, 
 in times of flood, covered bv a raft of drift timber 
 
216 x\ICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 entangled among its trees, presented a harrier, on 
 either side of which the current swept with speed 
 and fury, though, as it seemed, entirely unopposed 
 by rocks. In such a current, as Roland thought, 
 there was nothing unusually formidable ; a daring 
 swimmer might easily make his way to the island 
 opposite, where, if difficulties were presented by 
 the second channel, he miglit as easily find shelter 
 from enemies firing on him froni the banks. He 
 gazed again on the island, which, viewed in the 
 gloom, revealed to his eyes only a mass of sha- 
 dowy boughs, resting in peace and security. His 
 heart beat high with hope, and he was beginning 
 to debate the chances of success in an attempt to 
 swim his party across the channel on the horses, 
 when a flash of lightning, brighter than usual, dis- 
 closed the fancied island a cluster of shaking tree- 
 tops, whose trunks, as well as the soil that sup- 
 ported them, were buried fathoms deep in the 
 flood. At the same moment, he heard, coming on 
 a gust that repelled and deadened for a time the 
 louder tumult from the rocks above, other roaring 
 sounds, indicating the existence of other rocky 
 obstructions at the foot of the island, among which, 
 as he could now see, the same flash having shown 
 him the strength of the current in the centre of 
 the channel, the swimmer must be dashed, who 
 failed to find footing on the island. 
 
 '' We are imprisoned, indeed," he muttered, bit- 
 terly ; " Heaven itself has deserted us." 
 
 As he uttered these repining words, stooping to 
 dip the canteen with which he was provided, in 
 the water, a little canoe, darting forward with a 
 velocity that seemed produced by the combined 
 strength of the current and the rower, shot sud- 
 denly among the rocks and bushes at the entrance 
 
NICK OF THE WOOIjS. 217 
 
 of the ravine, wedging itself fast among them, 
 and a human figure leaped from it to the shore. 
 The soldier started back aghast, as if from a 
 dweller of another world; but recovering his 
 courage in an instant, and not doubting that he 
 beheld in the unexpected visiter a Shaw^nee and 
 foe, who had thus found means of assailing his 
 party on the rear, he rushed upon tiie stranger 
 with drawn sword, for he had laid his rifle aside, 
 and taking him at a disadvantage, while stooping 
 to drag the boat further ashore, he smote him 
 such a blow over the head, as brought him in- 
 stantly to the ground, a dead man to all appear- 
 ance, since, while his body fell upon the earth, his 
 head, — or at least a goodly portion of it, sliced 
 away by the blow, — went skimming into the 
 water, 
 
 " Die, dog !" said Roland, as he struck the blow; 
 and not content with that, he clapped his foot on 
 the victim's breast, to give him the coup-de -grace; 
 when, wonder of wonders, the supposed Shawnee 
 and dead man opened his lips, and cried aloud, in 
 good choice Salt-River Enghsh, — " 'Tarnal death 
 to you, white man! what are you atter?" 
 
 It was the voice, the never-to-be-forgotten voice, 
 of the captain of horse-thieves; and as Roland's 
 sword dropped from his hand in the surprise, up 
 rose Roaring Ralph himself, his eyes rolling, as 
 Roland saw by a second flash of lightning, with 
 thrice their usual obliquity, his left hand scratch- 
 ing among the locks of hair exposed by the blow 
 of the sabre, which had carried oft' a huge slice 
 of his hat, w^ithout doing other mischief, while his 
 right brandished a rifle, which he handled as if 
 about to repay the favour with interest. But the 
 same flash that revealed his visage to tiie as- 
 
 VOL. I. — 19 
 
218 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 tonished soldier, disclosed also Roland's features 
 to him, and he fairly yelled with joy at the sight. 
 " 'Tarnal death to me !" he roared, first leaping 
 into the air and cracking his heels together, then 
 snatching at Roland's hand, which he clutched and 
 twisted with the gripe of a bear, and then crack- 
 ing his heels together again, " 'tarnal death to me, 
 sodger, but I know'd it war you war in a squabbli- 
 lication ! I heerd the cracking and the squeaking ; 
 "Tarnal death to me !' says I, ' thar's Injuns !' And 
 then I thought, and says I, ' 'Tarnal death to me, 
 Avho are they atter? and then, 'tarnal death to 
 me, it came over me like a strick of lightning, and 
 says I, ' 'Tarnal death to me, but it 's anngellifer- 
 ous madam that holped me out of the halter !' 
 Strannger!" he roared, executing another demi- 
 volte, "h'yar am I, come to do anngelliferous 
 madam's fighting agin all critturs human and in- 
 human. Christian and Injun, white, red, black, and 
 party-coloured. Show me angelliferous madam, 
 and then show me the abbregynes ; and if you ever 
 seed fighting, 'tarnal death to me, but you '11 say 
 it war only the squabbling of seed-ticks and blue- 
 bottle flies ! I say, sodger, show me anngelliferous 
 madam: you cut the halter and you cut the 
 tug ; but it war madam the anngel that set you 
 on: wharfo', I'm her dog and her niggur from 
 now to etarnity, and I'm come to fight for her, 
 and lick her enemies till you shall see nothing left 
 of 'em but ha'rs and nails !" 
 
 Of these expressions, uttered with extreme volu- 
 bility and the most extravagant gestures, Roland 
 took no notice; his astonishment at the horse- 
 thief's appearance was giving way to new thoughts 
 and hopes, and he eagerly demanded of Ralph 
 how he had got there. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 219 
 
 " In the dug-out,"* said Ralph ; " found her 
 floating among the bushes, ax'd me out a flopperf 
 with my tom-axe in no time, jumped in, thought 
 of angeUiferous madam, and came down the falls 
 like a cob in a corn-van — ar'n't I the leaping trout 
 of the waters? Strannger, I don't want to sw'ar; 
 but I reckon if there ar'n't hell up thar among 
 the big stones, thar's hell no other whar all about 
 Salt River ! But I say, sodger, I came here not to 
 talk nor cavort,{ but to show that I'm the man, 
 Ralph Stackpole, to die dog for them that pats me. 
 So, whar's anngelliferous madam? Let me see 
 her, sodger, that I may feel W'olfish when I jumps 
 among the red-skins; 'for I'm all for a fight, and 
 thar ar'n't no run in me." 
 
 *' It is well indeed, if it shall prove so," said Ro- 
 land, not without bitterness ; " for it is to you 
 alone we owe all our misfortune^.'' 
 
 With these words, he led the way to the place, 
 where, among the horses, concealed among bram- 
 bles and stones, lay the unfortunate females, cow- 
 ering on the bare earth. The pale sheets of light- 
 ning, flashing now with greater frequency, re- 
 vealed them to Ralph's eyes, a ghastly and 
 melancholy pair, whose situation and appearance 
 were well fitted to move the feelings of a manly 
 bosom; Edith lying almost insensible across Telie's 
 knees, while the latter, weeping bitterly, yet seem- 
 ed striving to forget her own distresses, while mi- 
 nistering to those of her companion. 
 
 " 'Tarnal death to me !" cried Stackpole, look- 
 ing upon Edith's pallid visage and rayless eyes 
 
 * Dug-out, — a canoe, — because dug out, or hollowed, with 
 the axe. 
 
 f Flapper, — a flapper, a paddle. 
 
 t Cavort, — to play pranks, to g-asconade. 
 
22€^ NfCK OF THE WOODS, 
 
 with more emotion than would have been expect- 
 ed from his rude character, or than was express- 
 ed in his uncouth phrases, " if that don't make 
 me eat a niggur, may I be tetotaciously chawed 
 up myself! Oh, you anngclliferous madam! jist 
 look up and say the word, for I'm now ready to 
 mount a w ild-cat : jist look up, and don't make a 
 die of it, for thar's no occasion : for ar'n^t I your 
 niggur-slave, Ralph Stackpole 'i and ar'n't I come 
 to lick all that's agin you, Mingo, Shawnee, Dela- 
 ware, and all ! Oh, you anngelliferous crittur l 
 don't swound away, but look up, and see how I'll 
 wallop 'em !^ 
 
 And here the worthy horse-thief, seeing that 
 his exhortations produced no effect upon the ap- 
 parently dying Edith, dropped upon his knees-, 
 and began to blubber and lament over her, as if 
 overcome by his feelings, promising her a world 
 of Indian scaJps^ and a whole Salt-river-full of 
 Shawnee blood, if she would only look up and 
 see how he went about it. 
 
 ** Show your gratitude by actions, not by 
 words," said Roland, who, whatever his cause for 
 disliking the zealous Ralph, was not unrejoiced at 
 his presence, as that of a valuable auxiliary : " rise 
 up, and tell me, in the name of heaven, how you 
 succeeded in reaching this place, and what hope 
 there is of leaving it ?" 
 
 But Ralph was too much afflicted by the 
 wretched condition of Edith, whom his gratitude 
 for the life she had bestowed had made the 
 mistress paramount of his soul, to give much heed 
 to any one but herself; and it was only by dint of 
 hard questioning that Roland drew from him, 
 little by little, an account of the causes which had 
 kept him in the vicinity of the travellers, and 
 finally brought him to the scene of combat. 
 
 I 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 221 
 
 It had been, it appeared, an eventful and un- 
 lucky day with the horse-thief, as well as the sol- 
 dier. Aside from his adventure on the beech-tree, 
 enough in all truth to mark the day for him with 
 a black stone, he had been peculiarly unfortunate 
 with the horses to which he had so unceremo- 
 niously helped himself. The gallant Briareus, 
 after sundry trials of strength with his new mas- 
 ter, had at last succeeded in throwing him from 
 his back ; and the two-year-old pony, after obey- 
 ing him the whole day with the docility of a 
 dog, even when the halter was round his neck, 
 and carrying him in safety until within a few 
 miles of Jackson's Station, had attempted the 
 same exploit, and succeeded, galloping off on the 
 back-track towards his home. This second loss 
 was the more intolerable, since Stackpole, hav- 
 ing endured the penalty for stealing him, consi- 
 dered himself as having a legal. Lynch-like right 
 to the animal, which no one could now dispute. He 
 therefore returned in pursuit of the pony, until night 
 arrested his footsteps on the banks of the river, 
 which, the waters still rising, he did not care to 
 cross in the dark. He had therefore built a fire 
 by the road-side, intending to camp-out till morn- 
 ing. 
 
 " And it was your fire, then, that checked us ?" 
 cried Roland, at this part of the story, — "it was 
 your light we took for the watch-fire of Indians ?" 
 
 " Injuns you may say," quoth Stackpole, inno- 
 cently; "for thar war a knot of 'em I seed 
 sneaking over the ford : and jist as I was squint- 
 ing a long aim at 'em, hoping I might smash two 
 of 'em at a lick, slam-bang goes a feller that had 
 got behind me, 'tarnal death to him, and roused 
 me out of my snuggery. Well, sodger, then I 
 jumps into the cane, and next into the timber ; 
 19* 
 
223 KICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 for I reckoned all Injun creation war atter me- 
 And so I sticks fast in a lick ; and then, to sum- 
 totalize, I wallops down a rock, eend foremost, 
 like a bull-toad : and, 'tarnal death to me, while 
 I war scratching my head, and wondering whar 
 I came from, I heerd the crack of the guns 
 across the river, and thought of anngelliferous 
 madam. 'Tarnal death to me, sodger, it turned 
 me wrong side out! and while I w^ar axing all 
 natur' how I war to get over, what should I do 
 but see the old sugar-trough floating in the 
 bushes, — I seed her in a strick of hghtning. So 
 pops I in, and paddles I down, till I comes to the 
 rocks, — and ar'nt they beauties? *H*yar goes for 
 grim death and massacreeation,' says I, and tuck 
 the shoot; and if I didn't fetch old dug-out 
 through slicker than snakes, and faster than a 
 well -greased thunderbolt, niggurs ar'n't niggursy 
 nor Injuns Injuns : and, strannger, if you axes me 
 why, h'yar's the wharfo' — 'twar because I thought 
 of anngelliferous madam! Strannger, I am the 
 gentleman to see her out of a fight ; and so jist 
 tell her thar's no occasion for being uneasy; for, 
 'tarnal death to me, I'll mount Shawnees, and die 
 for her, jist like nothing." 
 
 "Wretch that you are," cried Roland, whose 
 detestation of the unlucky cause of his troubles, re- 
 vived by the discovery that it was to his presence 
 at the ford they owed their last and most fatal 
 disappointment, rendered him somewhat insensible 
 to the good feelings and courage which had 
 brought the grateful fellow to his assistance, — 
 " you were born for our destruction ; every way 
 you have proved our ruin : but for you, my poor 
 kinswoman would have been now in safety 
 among her friends. Had she left you hanging on 
 the beech, vou would not have been on the river. 
 
JflCK or THE WOODS. 223 
 
 to cut off her only escape, when pursued close at 
 hand by murderous savages." 
 
 The reproach, now for the first time acquaint- 
 ing Stackpole with the injury he had, though so 
 unintentionally and innocently, inflicted upon his 
 benefactress ; and the sight of her, lying appar- 
 ently half-dead at his feet, wrought up the feelings 
 of the worthy horse-thief to a pitch of desperate 
 compunction, mingled with fury. 
 
 " If Tm the crittur that holped her into the fix, 
 I'm the crittur to holp her out of it. 'Tarnal 
 death to me, whar's the Injuns'? H'yar goes to 
 eat 'em !" 
 
 With that, he uttered a yell, — the first human 
 cry that had been uttered for some time, for the 
 assailants were still resting on their arms,— ^and 
 rushing up the ravine, as if well acquainted with 
 the localities of the Station, he ran to the ruin, 
 repeating his cries at every step, with a loudness 
 and vigour of tone that soon drew a response 
 from the lurking enemy. 
 
 " H'yar, you 'tarnal-temporal, long-legged, 'ta- 
 ter-headed, paint-faces !" he roared, leaping from 
 the passage floor to the pile of ruins before the 
 door of the hovel, (where Emperor yet lay en- 
 sconced, and whither Roland followed him,) as if 
 in utter defiance of the foemen w^hom he hailed 
 with such opprobrious epithets, — " h'yar, you bald- 
 head, smoke-dried, punkin-eating, red-skins! you 
 half-niggurs ! you 'coon-whelps I you snakes ! you 
 varmints! you raggamuffins w-hat goes about 
 licking women and children, and scar'ring anngel- 
 liferous madam ! git up and show your scalp- 
 locks; for 'tarnal death to me, I'm the man to 
 take 'em — cock-a-doodle-doo !'' — 
 
 And the valiant horse-thief concluded his war- 
 like defiance with such a crow as might have 
 
224 MCK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 struck consternation to the heart not merely of 
 the best game-cock in Kentucky, but to the bird 
 of Jove itself. Great was the excitement it pro- 
 duced among the warriors. A furious hubbub 
 was heard to arise among them, followed by many 
 wrathful voices exclaiming in broken English, 
 with eager haste, "Know him dah ! cuss' rascal ! 
 Cappin Stackpole l^steal Injun boss!" And the 
 ' steal Injun boss !' iterated and reiterated by a 
 dozen voices, and always with the most iracund 
 emphasis, enabled Roland to form a proper con- 
 ception of the sense in which his enemies held 
 that offence, as well as of the great merits and 
 wide-spread fame of his new ally, whose mere 
 voice had thrown the red-men into such a fer- 
 ment. 
 
 But it was not with words alone they vented their 
 displeasure. Rifle-shots and execrations were dis- 
 charged together against the notorious enemy of 
 their pinfolds ; who, nothing daunted, and nothing 
 loath, let fly his own ' speechifier,' as he denomi- 
 nated his rifle, in return, accompanying the salute 
 with divers yells and maledictions, in which lat- 
 ter, he showed himself, to say the truth, infinitely 
 superior to his antagonists. He would even, so 
 great and fervent was his desire to fight the bat- 
 tles of his benefactress to advantage, have retain- 
 ed his exposed stand on the pile of ruins, daring 
 every bullet, had not Roland dragged him down 
 by main force, and compelled him to seek a shel- 
 ter like the rest, from which, however, he carried 
 on the war, loading and firing his piece with won- 
 derful rapidity, and yelling and roaring all the 
 time with triumphant fury, as if reckoning upon 
 every shot to bring down an enemy. 
 
 But it was not many minutes before Roland be- 
 gan to fear that the fatality which had marked 
 
MCK OF THE WOODS. 225 
 
 all his relations with the intrepid horse-thief, had 
 not yet lost its influence, and that Stackpole's pre- 
 sent assistance was any thing but advantageous 
 to his cause. It seemed, indeed, as if the savages 
 had been driven to increased rage by the dis- 
 covery of his presence; and that the hope of cap- 
 turing him, the most daring and inveterate of all 
 the hungerers after Indian horse-flesh, and re- 
 quiting his manifold transgressions on the spot, 
 had infused into them new spirit and fiercer de- 
 termination. Their fire became more vigorous, 
 their shouts more wild and ferocious : those who 
 had eftected a lodgment among the ruins crept 
 nigher, while others appeared, dealing their shots 
 from other quarters close at hand ; and, in fine, 
 the situation of his little party became so preca- 
 rious, that Roland, apprehending every moment a 
 general assault, and despairing of being again 
 able to repel it, drew them secretly off* from the 
 ruin, which he abandoned entirely, and took re- 
 fuge among the rocks at the head of the ravine. 
 
 It was then, — while, unconscious of the sudden 
 evacuation of the hovel, but not doubting they 
 had driven the defenders into its interior, the 
 enemy poured in half a dozen or more volleys, as 
 preliminaries to the assault which the soldier ap- 
 prehended, — that he turned to the unlucky Ralph; 
 and arresting him as he was about to fire upon 
 the foe from his new cover, demanded, with much 
 agitation, if it were not possible to transport 
 the hapless females in the little canoe, which his 
 mind had often reverted to as a probable means 
 of escape, to a place of safety. 
 
 « 'Tarnal death to me," said Ralph, " thar's a 
 boiling-pot above and a boiling-pot below ; but 
 ar'n't I the crittur to shake old Salt by the fo'- 
 
226 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 paw? Can take anngelliferous madam down ar a 
 shoot that war ever seed !" 
 
 " And why, in Heaven's name," cried the Vir- 
 ginian, " did you not say so before, and reUeve 
 her from this liorrible situation ?" 
 
 " 'Tarnal death to me, ar'n't I to do her fighting 
 first?" demanded the honest Ralph. " Jist let's 
 have another crack at the villians, jist for madam's 
 satisfaction ; and then, sodger, if you're for taking 
 the shoot, I'm jist the salmon to show you the 
 way. But I say, sodger, I won't lie," he continued, 
 finding Roland was bent upon instant escape, while 
 the savages were yet unaware of their flight from 
 the hovel, — " I won't lie, sodger ; — thar's rather a 
 small trough to hold madam and the gal, and me 
 and you and the niggur and the white man ;" — 
 (for Stackpole was already acquainted with the 
 number of the party ;) — " and as for the bosses, 
 'twill be all crucifixion to git 'em through old 
 Salt's fingers." 
 
 " Think not of horses, nor of us," said Roland. 
 " Save but the women, and it will be enough. For 
 the rest of us, we will do our best. We can keep 
 the hollow till we are relieved ; for, if Nathan be 
 alive, relief must be now on the way." And in a 
 few hurried words, he acquainted Stackpole wath 
 his having despatched the man of peace to seek 
 assistance. 
 
 " Thar's no trusting the crittur. Bloody Na- 
 than," said Ralph ; " though at a close hug, a 
 squeeze on the small ribs, or a kick-up of heels, 
 he's all splendiferous. Afore you see his ugly pic- 
 tur' a'gin, 'tarnal death to me, strannger, you'll be 
 devoured ; — the red niggurs thar won't make two 
 bites at you. No, sodger, — if we run, we run, — 
 thar's the principle ; we takes the water, the whole 
 herd together, niggurs, bosses and all, partickelar- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 227 
 
 \y the hosses ; for, 'tarnal death to me, it's agin 
 my conscience to leave so much as a hoof. And 
 so, sodger, if you conscientiously thinks thar has 
 been walloping enough done on both sides, I'm 
 jistthe man to help you all out of the bobbery; — 
 though, cuss me, you might as w^ell have cut me 
 out of the beech without so much hard axing !" 
 
 These words of the worthy horse-thief, uttered 
 as hurriedly as his own, but far more coolly, ani- 
 mated the spirits of the young soldier with double 
 hope; and taking advantage of the busy intent- 
 ness with which the enemy still poured their fire 
 into the ruin, he despatched Ralph down the ra- 
 vine, to prepare the canoe for the women, while 
 he himself summoned Dodge and Emperor to 
 make an effort for their own deliverance. 
 
228 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The roar of the river, alternating with peals of 
 thunder, which were now loud and frequent, 
 awoke many an anxious pang in Roland's bosom, 
 as he lifted his half unconscious kinswoman from 
 the earth, and bore her to the canoe; but his 
 anxiety was much more increased, when he came 
 to survey the little vessel itself, which was scarce 
 twelve feet in length, and seemed ill fitted to sus- 
 tain the weight of even half the party. It was, 
 besides, of the clumsiest and worst possible figure, 
 a mere log, in fact, roughly hollowed out, without 
 any attempt having been made to point its extre- 
 mities ; so that it looked less like a canoe than an 
 ox-trough ; which latter purpose it was perhaps 
 designed chiefly to serve, and intended to be used 
 for the former only when an occasional rise of 
 the waters might make a canoe necessary to the 
 convenience of the maker. Such a vessel, man- 
 aged by a skilful hand, might indeed bear the two 
 females, with honest Ralph, through the foaming 
 rapids below ; but Roland felt, that to burthen it 
 with others would be to insure the destruction of 
 all. He resolved, therefore, that no others should 
 enter it ; and, having deposited Telie Doe in it by 
 the side of Edith, he directed Dodge and Empe- 
 ror, to mount their horses, and trust to their 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 229 
 
 strength and courage for a safe escape. To Em- 
 peror, whatever distaste he might have for the ad- 
 venture, this was an order, Hke all others, to be 
 obeyed without murmuring ; and, fortunately, 
 Pardon Dodge's humanity, or his discretion, was 
 so strongly fortified by his confidence in the 
 swimming virtues of his steed, that he very readi- 
 ly agreed to try his fortune on horseback. 
 
 " Any thing to git round them everlasting var- 
 mint, — though it a'n't no sich great circumstance 
 to fight 'em, neither, where one 's a kinder got 
 one's hand in," he cried, with quite a joyous 
 voice ; and added, as if to encourage the others, — 
 " it's my idea, that, if such an old crazy boat can 
 swim the river, a boss can do it a mortal heap 
 better." 
 
 " 'Tarnal death to me," said Ralph Stackpole, 
 " them 's got the grit that '11 go down old Salt on 
 horseback ! But it 's all for the good of anngellife- 
 rous madam : and, so, if thar's any hard rubbing, 
 or drowning, or any thing of that synonimous na- 
 tur', to happen, it ar'n't a thing to be holped no 
 how. But hand in the guns and speechifiers, and 
 make ready for a go ; for, 'tarnal death to me, the 
 abbregynes ar' making a rush for the cabin !" 
 
 There was indeed little time left for delibera- 
 tion. While Ralph was yet speaking, a dozen or 
 more flaming brands were suddenly seen flung 
 into the air, as if against the broken roof of the 
 cabin, through which they fell into the interior; 
 and, with a tremendous whoop, the savages, thus 
 lighting the way to the assault, rushed against 
 their fancied prey. The next moment, there was 
 heard a yell of disappointed rage and wonder, 
 followed by a rush of men into the ravine. 
 
 " Now, sodger," cried Ralph, " stick close to 
 
 VOL. I —20 
 
230 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 the trough ; and if you ever seed etarnity at mid- 
 night, you "11 sec a small sample now !" 
 
 With that, he pushed the canoe into the stream, 
 and Roland urging his terrified steed with voice 
 and spur, and leading his cousin's equally alarmed 
 palfry, leaped in after him, calhng to Dodge and 
 Emperor to follow\ But how they followed, or 
 whether they followed at all, it was not easy at 
 that moment to determine ; for a bright flash of 
 lightning, glaring over the river, vanished sud- 
 denly, leaving all in double darkness, and the im- 
 petuous rush of the current whirled him he knew 
 not whither ; while the crash of the thunder that 
 followed, prevented his hearing any other noise, 
 save the increasing and never absent roar of the 
 waters. Another flash illuminated the scene, and 
 during its short-lived radiance he perceived him- 
 self flying, as it almost seemed, through the water, 
 borne along by a furious current betwixt what 
 appeared to him two lofty walls of crag and forest, 
 towards those obstructions in the channel, which, 
 in times of flood, converted the whole river into a 
 boiling caldron. They were masses of rock, 
 among which had lodged rafts of drift timber, 
 forming a dam or barrier on either side of the 
 river, from which the descending floods were 
 whirled into a central channel, ample enough in 
 the dry season to discharge the waters in quiet, but 
 through which they were now driven with all the 
 hurry and rage of a torrent. The scene, viewed 
 in the momentary glare of the lightning, was 
 indeed terrific : the dark and rugged walls on 
 either side, the ramparts of timber of every shape 
 and size, from the little willow sapling to the full 
 grown sycamore, piled high above the rocks, and 
 ihe rushing gulf betwixt them, made up a specta- 
 cle sufficient to appal the stoutest heart; and Ro- 
 
 1 
 
mcK or THE WOODS. 231 
 
 land gasped for breath, as he beheld the Httle 
 canoe whirl into the narrow chasm, and then 
 vanish, even before the light was over, as if swal- 
 lowed up in its boiling vortex. 
 
 But there was little time for fear or conjecture. 
 He cast the rein oF the palfry from his hand, 
 directed Briareus's head towards the abyss, and 
 the next moment, sweeping in darkness and witli 
 the speed of an arrow, betwixt the barriers, he 
 felt his charger swimming beneath him in com- 
 paratively tranquil waters. Another flash illu- 
 mined hill and river, and he beheld the little canoe 
 dancing along in safety, scarce fifty yards in ad- 
 vance, with Stackpole waving the tattered frag- 
 ments of his hat aloft, and yelling out a note of 
 triumph. But the lusty hurrah w^as unheard by 
 the soldier. A more dreadful sound came to his 
 ears from behind, in a shriek that seemed uttered 
 by the combined voices of men and horses, and 
 was heard even above the din of the torrent. But 
 it was as momentary as dreadful, and if a cry of 
 agony, it was of agony that was soon over. Its 
 fatal cause was soon exhibited, when Roland, 
 awakened by the sound from the trance, which, 
 during the brief moment of his passage through 
 the abyss, had chained his faculties, turned, by a 
 violent jerk, the head of his charger up the stream, 
 in the instinctive effort to render assistance to his 
 less fortunate followers. A fainter flash than be- 
 fore played upon the waters, and he beheld two or 
 three dark masses, like the bodies of horses, hur- 
 ried by among the waves, whilst another of lesser 
 bulk and human form suddenly rose from the 
 depth of the stream at his side. This he instantly 
 grasped in his hand, and dragged half across his 
 saddle-bow, w^hen a broken, strangling exclama- 
 tion, "Lorra-g — g — gor !" made him aware that he 
 
232 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 had saved the hfe of the faithful Emperor. " Ckuch 
 fast to the saddle," he cried ; and the negro obey- 
 ing with another ejaculation, the soldier turned 
 Briareus again down the stream, to look for the 
 canoe. But almost immediately his charger struck 
 the ground ; and Roland, to his inexpressible joy, 
 found himself landed upon a projecting bank, on 
 w^hich the current had already swept tlie canoe, 
 with its precious freight, unharmed. 
 
 *' If that ar'n't equal to coming down a strick 
 of lightning," cried Roaring Ralph, as he helped 
 the soldier from the water, " thar's no legs to a 
 jumping bull-frog I Smash away, old Salt!" he 
 continued, apostrophizing with great exultation 
 and self-admiration, the river whose terrors he 
 had thus so successfully defied ; " ar'n't I the gen- 
 tleman for you? Roar as much as you cussed 
 please; — when it comes to fighting for anngelUfe- 
 rous madam, I can lick you, old Salt, 'tarnal death 
 to me ! And so, anngelliferous madam, don't you 
 car' a copper for the old crittur'; for thar's more 
 in his bark than his bite. And as for the abbre- 
 gynes, if I've font 'em enough for your satisfac- 
 tion, we '11 jist say good-by to 'em, and leave 'em 
 to take the scalp oflf old Salt." 
 
 The consolation thus oflfered by the w'orthy cap- 
 tain of horse-thieves was lost upon Edith, who, 
 locked in the arms of her kinsman, and sensible 
 of her escape from the horrid danger that had so 
 long surrounded her, sensible also of the peril 
 from which he had just been released, wept her 
 terrors away upon his breast, and for a moment 
 almost forgot that her suflferings were not yet 
 over. 
 
 It was only for an instant that the young soldier 
 indulged his joy. He breathed a few words of 
 comfort and encouragement, and then turned to 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 233 
 
 inquire after Dodge, whose gallant bearing in the 
 hour of danger had conquered the disgust he first 
 felt at his cowardice, and won upon his gratitude 
 and respect. But the Yankee appeared not, and 
 the loud calls Roland made for him were echoed 
 only by the hoarse roar from the barriers, now 
 left far behind, and the thunder that yet pealed 
 through the sky. Nor could Emperor, when re- 
 stored a little to his wits, which had been greatly 
 disturbed by his own perils in the river, give any 
 satisfactory account of his fate. He could only 
 remember that the current had borne himself 
 against the logs, under w^hich he had been swept, 
 and whirled he knew not whither, until he found 
 himself in the arms of his master; and Dodge, 
 who had rushed before him into the flood, he sup- 
 posed, had met a similar fate, but without the 
 happy termination that marked his own. 
 
 That the Yankee had indeed found his death 
 among the roaring waters, Roland could well be- 
 lieve, the wonder only being how the rest had 
 escaped in safety. Of the five horses, three only 
 had reached the bank, Briareus and the palfry, 
 which had fortunately followed Roland down the 
 middle of the chasm, and the horse of the unlucky 
 Pardon. The others had been either drowned 
 among the logs, or swept down the stream. 
 
 A few moments sufficed to acquaint Roland 
 with these several losses ; but he took little time to 
 lament them. The deliverance of his party was 
 not yet wholly effected, and every moment was to 
 be improved, to put it, before daylight, beyond the 
 reach of pursuit. The captain of horse-thieves 
 avouched himself able to lead the way from the 
 wilderness, to conduct the travellers to a safe ford 
 below, ard thence, through the woods, to the ren- 
 dezvous of the emigrants. 
 20* 
 
234 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 " Let it be anywhere," said Roland, '' where 
 there is safety ; and let us not delay a moment 
 longer. Our remaining here can avail nothing to 
 poor Dodge." 
 
 With these w^ords, he assisted his kinswoman 
 upon her palfry, placed Telle Doe upon the horse 
 of the unfortunate Yankee, and giving up his own 
 Briareus to the exhausted negro, prepared to re- 
 sume his ill-starred journey on foot. Then, taking 
 post on the rear, he gave the signal to his new 
 guide ; and once more the travellers w^ere buried 
 in the intricacies of the forest. 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 235 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 It was at a critical period when the travellers ef- 
 fected their escape from the scene of their late 
 sufferings. The morning was already drawing 
 nigh, and might, but for the heavy clouds that 
 prolonged the night of terror, have been seen 
 shooting its first streaks through the eastern skies. 
 Another half hour, if for that half hour they 
 could have maintained their position in the ra- 
 vine, would have seen them exposed in all their 
 helplessness to the gaze, and to the fire of the de- 
 termined foe. It became them to improve the 
 few remaining moments of darkness, and to make 
 such exertions as might put them, before dawn, 
 beyond the reach of discovery or pursuit. 
 
 Exertions were, accordingly, made; and, al- 
 though man and horse w^ere alike exhausted, and 
 the thick brakes and oozy swamps through which 
 Roaring Ralph led the way, opposed a thousand 
 obstructions to rapid motion, they had left the 
 fatal ruin at least two miles behind them, or so 
 honest Stackpole averred, when the day at last 
 broke over the forest. To add to the satisfaction 
 of the fugitives, it broke in unexpected splendour. 
 The clouds parted, and, as the floating masses 
 rolled lazily away before a pleasant morning 
 breeze, they were seen lighted up and tinted with 
 a thousand glorious dyes of sunshine. 
 
 The appearance of the great luminary was hail- 
 ed with joy, as the omen of a happier fate than 
 had been heralded by the clouds and storms of 
 evening. Smiles began to beam from the haggard 
 and care-worn visages of the travellers; the very 
 
36 NICK OP THE WOODS. 
 
 horses seemed to feel the inspiring influence of 
 the change ; and as for Roaring Ralph, the sight 
 of his beautiful benefactress recovering her good 
 looks, and the exulting consciousness that it was 
 Ids hand which had snatched her from misery 
 and death, produced such a fever of delight in 
 his brain as was only to be allayed by the most 
 extravagant expressions and actions. He assured 
 her a dozen times over, ' he was her dog and her 
 slave, and vowed he would hunt her so many 
 Injun scalps, and steal her such a 'tarnal chance 
 of Shawnee bosses, thar should'nt be a gal in all 
 Kentucky should come up to her for stock and 
 glory:' and, finally, not content with making a 
 thousand other promises of an equally extravagant 
 character, and swearing, that, ' if she axed it, he 
 would go down on his knees, and say his prayers 
 to her,' he offered, as soon as he had carried her 
 safely across the river, to ' take the back-track,- 
 and lick, single-handed, all the Injun abbregynes 
 that might be following.' Indeed, to such a pitch 
 did his enthusiasm run, that, not knowing how- 
 otherwise to give vent to his overcharged feelings^ 
 he suddenly turned upon his heel, and shaking his 
 fist in the direction whence he had come, as if 
 against the enemy who had caused his benefac- 
 tress so much distress, he pronounced a formal 
 and emphatic curse upon their whole race * from 
 the head-chief to the commoner, from the whiskey- 
 soaking warrior down to the pan-licking squall-a- 
 baby,' all of whom he anathematized with as much 
 originality as fervour of expression ; after which, 
 he proceeded with more sedateness, to resume his 
 post at the head of the travellers, and conduct 
 them onwards on their way. 
 
 Another hour was now consumed in diving 
 amid cane-brakes and swamps, to which Roaring 
 Ralph evinced a decidedly greater partiality than 
 
MCK OF THE WOODS. 237 
 
 to the open forest, in which the travellers had 
 found themselves at the dawn; and in this he 
 seemed to show somewhat more of judgment and 
 discretion than would have been argued from his 
 hair-brained conversation ; for the danger of 
 stumbling upon scouting Indians, of which the 
 country now seemed so full, was manifestly great- 
 er in the open woods than in the dark and almost 
 unfrequented cane-brakes : and the w^orthy horse- 
 thief, with all his apparent love of fight, was not 
 at all anxious that the angel of his worship should 
 be alarmed or endangered, while entrusted to his 
 zealous safe-keeping. 
 
 But it happened in this case, as it has happened 
 with better and wiser men, that Stackpole's cun- 
 ning over-reached itself, as was fully shown in the 
 event; and it would have been ha])pier for him- 
 self and all, if his discretion, instead of plunging 
 him among difficult and almost impassable bogs, 
 where a precious hour w^as wasted in effecting a 
 mere temporary security and concealment from 
 observation, had taught him the necessity of push- 
 ing onwards with all possible speed, so as to leave 
 pursuers, if pursuit should be attempted, far be- 
 hind. At the expiration of that hour, so injudi- 
 ciously wasted, the fugitives issued from the brake, 
 and stepping into a narrow^ path worn by the feet 
 of bisons among stunted shrubs and parched 
 grasses, along the face of a lime-stone hill, spar- 
 ingly scattered over with a similar barren growth, 
 began to wind their way downw^ard into a hollow 
 vale, in which they could hear the murmurs, and 
 perceive the glimmering waters, of the river, over 
 which they seemed never destined to pass. 
 
 " Thar\ 'tarnal death to me !" roared Ralph, 
 pointing downwards with triumph, " arn't that old 
 Salt now, looking as sweet and liquorish as a 
 whole trough-full of sugar-tree ? We'll jist take 
 
238 NICK or THE ■\V00D5. 
 
 a dip at him, anngelliferous madam, jist to wash 
 the mud oil' our shoes ; and then, 'tarnal death to 
 me, fawwell to old Salt and the abbregynes toge- 
 ther, — cock-a-doodle-doo !" 
 
 With this comfortable assurance, and such en- 
 couragement as he could convey in the lustiest 
 gallicantation ever fetched from lungs of man or 
 fowl, the worthy Stackpole, who had slackened 
 his steps, but without stopping, while he spoke^ 
 turned his face again to the descent ; when, — as 
 if that war-cry had conjured up enemies from the 
 very air, — a rifle bullet, shot from a bush not six 
 yards off', suddenly whizzed through his hair, scat- 
 tering a handful of it to the winds; and while a 
 dozen more were, at the same instant, poured 
 upon other members of the unfortunate party* 
 fourteen or fifteen savages rushed out from their 
 concealment among the grass and bushes, three 
 of whom seized upon the rein of the unhappy 
 Edith, while twice as many sprang upon Captain 
 Forrester, and, before he could raise an arm in 
 defence, bore him to the earth, a victim or a pri- 
 soner. 
 
 So much the astounded horse-thief saw with his 
 own eyes; but before he could make good any 
 of the numberless promises he had volunteered 
 during the morning journey, of killing and eating 
 the whole family of North American Indians, or 
 exemplify the unutterable gratitude and devo- 
 tion he had as often professed to the fair Vir- 
 ginian, four brawny barbarians, one of them rising 
 at his side and from the very bush whence the 
 bullet had been discharged at his head, rushed 
 against him, flourishing their guns and knives, and 
 yelling with transport, " Got you now, Cappin 
 Stackpole, steal-hoss ! No go steal no boss no 
 more ! roast on great big fire !" 
 
 " 'Tarnal death to me !" roared Stackpole, for- 
 
NICK OF THE WOODS. 23^ 
 
 getting every thing else in the instinct of self-pre- 
 servation; and firing his piece at the nearest ene- 
 my, he suddenly leaped from the path into the 
 bushes on its lower side, where was a precipitous 
 descent, down which he went rolling and crash- 
 ing with a velocity almost equal to that of the 
 bullets that were sent after him. Three of the 
 four assailants immediately darted after in pur- 
 suit, and their shouts growing fainter and fainter 
 as they descended, were mingled with the loud 
 yeli of victory, now uttered by a dozen savage 
 voices from the hill-side. 
 
 It was a victory, indeed, in every sense, com- 
 plete, almost bloodless, as it seemed, to the assail- 
 ants, and effected at a moment when the hopes of 
 the travellers were at the highest : and so sudden 
 was the attack, so instantaneous the change from 
 freedom to captivity, so like the juggling transi- 
 tion of a dream the whole catastrophe, that For- 
 rester, although overthrown and bleeding from 
 two several wounds received at the first fire, and 
 wholly in the power of his enemies, who flourish- 
 ed their knives and axes in his face, yelling with 
 exultation ; could scarce appreciate his situation, 
 or understand what dreadful misadventure had 
 happened, until his eye, wandering among the 
 dusky arms that grappled him, fell first upon the 
 body of the negro Emperor, hard by, gored by 
 numberless wounds, and trampled by the feet of 
 his slayers, and then upon the apparition, a thou- 
 sand times more dismal to his eyes, of his kins- 
 w^oman snatched from her horse and struggling in 
 the arms of her savage captors. The phrensy 
 with which he was seized at this lamentable sight 
 endowed him with a giant's strength ; but it was 
 exerted in vain to free himself from his enemies, 
 all of whom seemed to experience a barbarous de- 
 light at his struggles, some encouraging him with 
 
240 NICK OF THE WOODS. 
 
 loud laughter and in broken English, to continue 
 them, while others taunted and scolded at him 
 more like shrewish squaws than valiant warriors, 
 assuring him that they were great Shawnee fight- 
 ing-men, and he a little Long-knife dog, entirely 
 beneath their notice : which expressions, though 
 at variance with all his preconceived notions of 
 the* stern gravity of the Indian character, and 
 rather indicative of a roughly jocose than a dark- 
 ly ferocious spirit, did not prevent their taking the 
 surest means to quiet his exertions and secure 
 their prize, by tying his hands behind him with a 
 thong of buftalo hide, drawn so tight as to inflict 
 the most excruciating pain. But pain of body 
 was then, and for many moments after, lost in 
 agony of mind, which could be conceived only by 
 him who, like the young soldier, has been doom- 
 ed, once in his life, to see a tender female, the 
 nearest and dearest object of his aflections, in the 
 hands of enemies, the most heartless, merciless, 
 and brutal of all the races of men. He saw her 
 pale visage convulsed with terror and despair, — 
 he beheld her arms stretched towards him, as if 
 beseeching the help he no longer had the power 
 to render, — and expected every instant the fall of 
 the hatchet, or the flash of the knife, that was to 
 pour her blood upon the earth before him. He 
 would have called upon the wretches around for 
 pity, but his tongue clove to his mouth, his brain 
 spun round; and such became the intensity of his 
 feelings, that he was suddenly bereft of sense, 
 and fell like a dead man to the earth, where he 
 lay for a time, ignorant of all events passing 
 around, ignorant also of the duration of his insen- 
 sibility. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
IRVING'S ASTORIA 
 
 LATELY PUBLtSHED BY 
 
 CARE^, LEA AND BLANCHARD, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, 
 
 ASTORIA: 
 
 OR, 
 
 ANECDOTES OF AN ENTERPRISE 
 
 BEYOND THE 
 
 ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 
 
 BY WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 HANDSOMELY BOUND IN TWO VOLS. EMBOSSED CLOTH. 
 
 " As a fireside book, for a general circle, we have met with nothing 
 likely to prove as acceptable, since the appearance of that strange, but 
 fascinating puzzle, ' Sir Edward Seaward's Diary.' " — Athenaum. 
 
 " The piost finished narrative of a series of adventures that ever was 
 written, whether with regard to plan or execution. The arrangement has 
 all the art of fiction, yet without any apparent sacrifice of truth or exact- 
 ness ; the composition we are inclined to rate as the chef d'oeuvre of 
 Washington Irving." — London Spectator. 
 
 "The enterprise embraced expeditions by sea and land, which gave rise 
 to various adventures ' by flood and field,' that fell to the lot of the hardy 
 adventurers who embarked in them. Their ' hairbreadth escapes' — the 
 thrilling incidents of their journeying — the sights seen in their travel — 
 the various Indian tribes whom they visited — their privations and suffer- 
 ings, and their own characteristics, as elicited and developed by the cir- 
 cumstances into which they fell, form entertaining episodes from the main 
 body of the work, and impart to it the greater portion of its interest. 
 
 "The merits of Astoria are many and sterling, and not the least among 
 them is, that it gives, perhaps, a better idea of the great far-oflf West than 
 any of its predecessors, which have been founded on the same subject ; 
 we can therefore commend it as a work, not only of great interest, but of 
 great utility." — Daili/ Evening Post. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 In the course of occasional visits to Canada many years 
 since, I became intimately acquainted with some of the 
 principal partners of the great North- West Fur Company, 
 who at that time hved in gonial style at Montreal, and 
 kept almost open house for the stranger. At their hospi- 
 table boards I occasionally met with partners, and clerks, 
 and hardy fur traders from the interior posts ; men who 
 had passed years remote from civilized society, among 
 ilistant and savage tribes, and who had wonders to 
 recount of their wide and wild peregrinations, their 
 hunting exploits, and their perilous adventures and hair- 
 breadth escapes among the Indians. I was at an age 
 when the imagination lends its coloring to every thing, 
 and the stories of these Sinbads of the wilderness made 
 the life of a trapper and fur trader perfect romance to me. 
 [ even meditated at one time a visit to the remote posts 
 of the company in the boats winch annually ascended the 
 lakes and rivers, being thereto invited by one of the part- 
 ners ; and I have ever since regretted that I was prevented 
 by circumstances from carrying my intention into effect. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 From those early impressions, the grand enterprises of the 
 great fur companies, and the hazardous errantry of their 
 associates in the wild parts of our vast continent, have 
 alw^ays been themes of charmed interest to me ; and I 
 have felt anxious to get at the details of their adventurous 
 expeditions among the savage tribes that peopled the 
 depths of the wilderness. 
 
 About two years ago, not long after my return from a 
 tour upon the prairies of the far west, I had a conversation 
 with my friend Mr. John Jacob Astor, relative to that por- 
 tion of our country, and to the adventurous traders to 
 Santa Fe and the Columbia. This led him to advert to a 
 great enterprize set on foot and conducted by him, between 
 twenty and thirty years since, having for its object to carry 
 the fur trade across the Rocky Mountains, and to sweep 
 the shores of the Pacific. 
 
 Finding that I took an interest in the subject, he ex- 
 pressed a regret that the true nature and extent of his 
 enterprise and its national character and importance had 
 never been understood, and a wish that I would undertake 
 to give an account of it. The suggestion struck upon the 
 chord of early associations, already vibrating in my mind. 
 It occurred to me that a work of diis kind might comprise 
 a variety of those curious details, so interesting to me, 
 illustrative of the fur trade ; of its remote and adventurous 
 enterprises, and of the various people, and tribes, and 
 castes, and characters, civiHzed and savage, affected by its 
 operations. The journals, and letters also, of the adven- 
 turers by sea and land employed by Mr. Astor in his com- 
 prehensive project, might throw hght upon portions of our 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 country quite out of the track of ordinary travel, and as 
 yet but little known. I therefore felt disposed to under- 
 take the task, provided documents of sufficient extent 
 and minuteness could be furnished to me. All the papers 
 relative to the enterprise were accordingly submitted to 
 my inspection. Among them were journals and letters 
 narrating expeditions by sea, and journeys to and fro 
 across the Rocky Mountains by routes before untravelled, 
 together with documents illustrative of savage and colonial 
 life on the borders of the Pacific. With such materials in 
 hand, I undertook the work. The trouble of rummaging 
 among business papers, and of collecting and collating 
 facts from amidst tedious and common-place details, was 
 spared me by my nephew, Pien-e M. Irving, who acted 
 as my pioneer, and to whom I am greatly indebted for 
 smoothing my path and lightening my labors. 
 
 As the journals, on which I chiefly depended, had been 
 kept by men of business, intent upon the main object of 
 the enterprise, and but little versed in science, or curious 
 about m.atters not immediately bearing upon their interests, 
 and as they were written often in moments of fatigue or 
 hurry, amid the inconveniences of wild encampments, they 
 were often meagre in their details, furnishing hints to 
 provoke rather than narratives to satisfy inquiry. I have, 
 therefore, availed myself occasionally of collateral lights 
 supplied by the published journals of other travellers who 
 have visited the scenes described : such as Messrs. Lewis 
 and Clarke, Bradbury, Breckenridge, Long, Franchere, 
 and Ross Cox, and make a general acknowledgment of aid 
 
 received from these quarters. 
 
 I* 
 
6 I^TRODrCTION. 
 
 The work I here present to the pubhc, is necessarily of 
 a rambhng and somewhat disjointed nature, comprising 
 various expeditions and adventures by land and sea. The 
 facts, however, will prove to be linked and banded together 
 by one grand scheme, devised and conducted by a master 
 spirit; one set of characters, also, continues throughout, 
 appearing occasionally, though sometimes at long inter- 
 vals, and the whole enterprise winds up by a regular 
 catastrophe ; so that the work, without any labored attempt 
 at artificial construction, actually possesses much of that 
 unity so much sought after in works of fiction, and con- 
 sidered so important to the interest of every history. 
 
CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 FAGS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 Banks of the Wallah-Wallah — departure of David Stuart for tlic 
 Oakinagan — Mr. Clarke's route up Lewis river — Chipunnish, or 
 Pierced-nose Indians — their character, appearance, and habits — 
 tliievish habits — laying up of the boats — post at Pointed Heart and 
 Spokan rivers — M'Kenzic, his route up the Camoenum — bands of 
 travelling Indians — expedition of Reed to the caches — adventures 
 of wandering voyageurs and trappers. . . . . .190 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Departure of Mr. Hunt in the Ceaver — precautions at the factory 
 — detachment to the WoUamut — gloomy apprehensions — arrival 
 of M'Kcnzie — affairs at the Shahaptan — news of war — dismay 
 of M'Dougal — determination to abandon Astoria — departure of 
 M'Kenzie for the interior — adventure at the rapids — visit to the 
 ruffians of Wish-ram — a perilous situation — meeting with M'Tavish 
 and his party — arrival at the Shahaptan — plundered caches — de- 
 termination of the wintering partners not to leave the country — 
 arrival of Clarke among the Nez Percys — the affair of the silver 
 goblet — hanging of an Indian — arrival of Cue wintering partners at 
 Astoria. 198 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 The partners displeased with M'Dougal — equivocal conduct of that 
 gentleman — partners agree to abandon Astoria — sale of goods to 
 M'Tavish — arrangements for the year — manifesto signed by the 
 partners — departure of M'Tavish for the interior. . . .211 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Anxieties of Mr. Astor — memorial of the North-west Company — 
 tidings of a British naval expedition against Astoria — Mr. Astor 
 applies to government for protection — the frigate Adams ordered 
 to be fitted out — bright news from Astoria — sunshine suddenly 
 overclouded. 216 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 Affairs of state at Astoria — M'Dougal proposes for the hand of an 
 Indian princess — matrimonial embassy to Comcomly — matrimonial 
 notions among the Chinooks — settlements and pin money — tlie 
 bringing home of the bride — a managing father-in-law — arrival of 
 Mr. Hunt at Astoria 219 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 Voyage of the Beaver to New Archangel — a Russian governor — roys- 
 tering rule — the tyranny of the table — hard drinking bargains — 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 PA-OB. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 Features of the wilderness — herds of buffalo — antelopes — their varie- i 
 
 ties and habits — John Day — his hunting stratagem— interview witli 
 three Arickaras — negotiations between the rival parties — the Left- 
 handed and tlie Big Man, two Arickara chiefs — Arickara village — 
 its inhabitants — ceremonials on landing — a council lodge — grand 
 conference — speech of Lisa — negotiation for horses — shrewd sug- 
 gestion of Gray Eyes, an Arickara cliief— encampment of the 
 trading parties. 207 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 An Indian horse fair — love of the Indians for horses — scenes in the 
 Arickara village — Indian hospitality — duties of Indian women — 
 game habits of the men — their indolence — love of gossiping — nimors 
 of lurking enemies — scouts — an alarm — a sallying forth — Indian 
 dogs — return of a horse-stealing party — an Indian deputation — 
 fresh alarms — return of a successful war party — dress of the Arick- 
 aras — Indian toilet — triumphal entiy of the war party — meetings of 
 relations and friends — Indian sensibility— -meeting of a wounded 
 warrior and his mother — festivities and lamentations. . . .218 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 Wilderness of the far west — great American desert — parched seasons 
 — Black hills — Rocky mountains — wandering and predatory hordes 
 — speculations on what may be the future population — apprehended 
 dangers — a plot to desert — Rose the interpreter — his sinister char- 
 acter — departure from the Arickara village 230 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 Summer weather of the prairies — purity of the atmosphere — Cana- 
 dians on the march — sickness in the camp — Big river — vulgar nom- 
 enclature — suggestions about the original Indian names — camp of 
 Cheyennes — trade for horses — character of the Cheyennes — their 
 horsemanship — historical anecdotes of the tribe. .... 236 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 New distribution of horses — secret information of treason in the camp 
 — Rose the intei-preter, his perfidious character — liis plots — anec- 
 dotes of the Crow Indians — notorious horse stealers — some account 
 o( Rose — a desperado of the frontier 242 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 Substitute for fuel on the prairies — fossil trees — fierceness of the buf- 
 faloes when in heat — three hunters missing — signal fires and smokes 
 — uneasiness concerning the lost men — a plan to forestall a rogue- 
 new arrangement with Rose — rcturn of the wanderers. . . 246 
 
CAREY, LEA AND BLANCHARD 
 
 Also publish the following works by Washington Irving. 
 
 A HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND VOYAGES OF CHRISTO. 
 PHER COLUMBUS AND COMPANIONS. A new edition, revised 
 and corrected by the author. In three vols. 8vo. 
 
 THE CRAYON MISCELLANY, to be published at intervals.— Now 
 ready — 
 
 Part L — A Tour on the Prairies. 
 
 Part 2. — Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey. 
 
 Part 3. — Legends of the Conquest of Spain. 
 
 New editions of 
 
 A CHRONICLE OF THE CONQUEST OF GRENADA. By Fray 
 Antonio Agapida. In two vols. 12mo. 
 
 THE ALHAMBRA ; a scries of Tales and Sketches of the Moors and 
 Spaniards. In two vols. 12mo. 
 
 THE SKETCH BOOK, by GeoftVey Crayon, Gent. In two vols. 12mo. 
 
 KNICKERBOCKER'S HISTORY OF NEW YORK. In two vols. 
 12mo. 
 
 BRACEBRIDGE HALL, OR THE HUMORISTS, a Medley, by Geof- 
 frey Crayon, Gent. In two vols. 12mo, 
 
 TALES OF A TRAVELLER, by Geoffrey Crayon, Gent. In two vols. 
 12mo. 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF WASHINGTON IRVING; a small volume for 
 the pocket, neatly done up in extra cloth. 
 
 By John T. Irving, Jr. 
 
 INDIAN SKETCHES, taken during an expedition to the Pawnee Tribes. 
 In two vols. 12mo. 
 
 By Theodore Irving. 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF FLORIDA by Hernando de Soto. In two vols. 
 12mo. 
 
 1 
 
BRIDGEWATER TREATISES. 
 NOW COMPLETE. 
 
 This series of 'I'reatises is published under the following circunistances : 
 
 The Right Honourable and Rev. Francis Henrv, Earl of Bridgewater, 
 died in tiie month of February, 1829 ; and by his last will and testament, 
 bearing date the 25th of February, 1825; he directed certain trustees therein 
 named, to invest in the public funds, the sum of eight thousand pounds 
 sterling; this sum, with the accruing dividen<ls thei eon, to be held at the 
 disposal of the President, for the time being, of the Royal Society of Lon- 
 don, to be |;aid to the person or persons nominated by him. The Testator 
 farther directed, that the person or persons selected by the said President, 
 should be appointed to write, print and publish one thousand copies of a 
 work, on the Power, \Vis.dom, and Goodness of God, as manifested in the 
 Creation ; illustrating such work, by all reasonable arguments, as for in- 
 stance, the variety and formation of God's creatures in the Animal, Vege- 
 table, and Mineral Kingdoms ; the effect of digestion, and, thereby, of con- 
 version; the construction of the hand of man, and an infinite variety of 
 other arguments; as al^o by discoveries, ancient and modern, in arts, 
 sciences, and the whole extent <,«f literature. 
 
 He desiretl, moreover, that the profits arising from the sale of the works 
 so published, should be paid to the authors ol" the works. 
 
 The late President of the Royal Society, Davies Gilbert, Esq. requested 
 the assistance of his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, and of the 
 Bishop of London, in determining upon the best mode of carrying into 
 effect the intentions of the Testator. Acting with their advice, and with 
 the concurrence of a nobleman immediately connected with the deceased, 
 Mr. Davies Gilbert appointed the following eight gentlemen to write sepa- 
 rate Treaiises in the different branches of the subject here stated : — 
 
 I. The Adaptation of External Nature to the Moral and Intellectual 
 Constitution of Man, by the Rev. Thomas Chalmers, D. D. Professor of 
 Divinity in the University of Edinburgh. 
 
 II. The Adaptation of External Nature to the Physical Condition of 
 Man, by John Kidd, M. D., F. R. S., Regius Professor of Medicine in the 
 University of Oxford. 
 
 III. Astronomy and General Physics, considered with reference to Na- 
 tural Theology, by the Rev. William Whewell, M. A., F. R. S., Fellow of 
 Trinity College, Cambridge. 
 
 IV. The Hand; its mechanism and vital endowments as evincing design, 
 by Sir Charles Bell, K. H., F. R. S. 
 
 V. Animal and Vegetable Physiology, by Peter Mark Roget, M.D., Fel- 
 low of and Secretary to the Royal Society. 
 
 VI. Geology and Mineralogy, by the Rev. VVm. Buckland, D. D., F.R. S., 
 Canon of Christ Church, and Professor of Geology in the University of 
 Oxford. 
 
 VII. The History, Habits, and Instincts of Animals, by the Rev. William 
 Kirby, M. A., F.R. S. 
 
 VIII. Chemistry, Meteorology, and the Function of Digestion, by Wm. 
 Front, M. D., F. R. S. 
 
2 
 
 The whole of these valuable works being now published, 
 
 they can be had in the following manner : — 
 
 TREATISE FIRST. 
 
 ON THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE TO THE MO- 
 RAL AND INTELLECTUAL CONSTITUTION OF MAN. By the 
 Rev. Thomas Chalmeus, D. D. 
 
 TREATISE EIGHTH. 
 
 CHEMISTRY, METEOROLOGY, AND THE FUNCTIONS OF DIGES- 
 TION, considered with reference to Natural Theology. Bv William 
 ^ PRotJT, M. D., F. R. S. 
 
 TREATISE SECOND. 
 
 A TREATISE ON THE ADAPTATION OF EXTERNAL NATURE 
 TO THE PHYr^lCAL CONDITION OF MAN, principally with refer- 
 ence to the supply of his wants, and the exercise of his intellectual facul- 
 ties. By John Kidd, M. D., F. R. S. 
 
 TREATISE THIRD. 
 
 ASTRONOMY AND GENERAL PHYSICS, considered with reference 
 to Natural Theology. By the Rev. William Whewell, M. A. 
 
 TREATISE FOURTH. 
 
 THE HAND: ITS MECHANISM AND VITAL ENDOWMENTS, AS 
 EVINCING DESIGN. By Sir Chakles Bell, K. G. H. 
 
 The above five works in tiro handsome Svo. volumes — or 
 they may be had separately in a cheap form, each in one 
 vol. 12mo. 
 
 TREATISE SEVENTH. 
 
 THE HISTORY, HABITS AND INSTINCIS OF ANIMALS. Ey the 
 Rev. William Kirbv, M. A., F. R. S. Illustrated by numerous engra- 
 vings on copper. In one handsome 8vo. volume. 
 
 TREATISE FIFTH. 
 
 ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY, considered with reference 
 to Natural Theology. By Peter Mark Roget, M. D. Illustrated with 
 nearly 500 wood-cuts. In two handsome Svo. volumes. 
 
 TREATISE SIXTH. 
 
 GEOLOGY AND MINERALOGY, considered with reference to Natural 
 Theology. By the Rev. William Buckland, D D. Illustrated by 87 
 lar^e and expensive plates engraved on Copper, forming two handsome 
 Svo, volumes. 
 
THE BRIDGEWATER TREATISES, 
 
 THE WHOLE NOW COMPLETE, 
 
 In seven volumes octavo, handsomely done up in fine cloth, or half bound 
 with talf backs and corners. 
 
 VOLS. 1 and 2, embracing Treatise 
 
 I. 1 lie Adaptation of External Nature to the Moral an.l Intellectual Con- 
 stitution of Man, by the Rev. Thomas Chalmers, D. D., I'lofessor of Divi- 
 nity in the University of Edinburgii. 
 
 VIII. Chemistrv, Meteorology, and the Function of Digestion, by Wm. 
 Prnnt, M. D., F. R. S. 
 
 II. The Adaptation of External Nature to the Physical condition of Man, 
 by John Kidd, M. D., F. R. S., Regius Professor of Medicine in the Uni- 
 versity of Oxford. 
 
 III. Astronomy and General Physics, considered with reference to Natu- 
 ral Theology, by the Rev. William Whewell, M. A,, F. R. S., Fellow of Tri- 
 nity College, Cambridge. 
 
 iV. TIte Hand: its mechanism and vital endowments as evincing design, 
 by Sii Charles Bell, K. H., F. R. S. 
 
 VOL. 3, embracing Treatise 
 VII. The History, 'Habit-s, and Instincts of Animals, by the Rev. William 
 Kirby, M. A., F. R. S. With numerous plates on Copper. 
 
 VOLS. 4 and 5, enibracing Treatise 
 
 V. Animal antl Vegetable Physinloey, by Peter Mark Roget, M. D., Fel- 
 lo»v of and secretary to the Ro^al Society. With numerous wood-cuts. 
 
 VOLS. 6 and 7, embracing Treatise 
 
 VI. Geology and Mineralogy, by the Rev. Wm. Buckland, D. D., F. R. S., 
 Canon of Christ Church, and Professor of Geology in the University of 
 Oxfuid. Willi 87 large Copper-plate engravings. 
 
 The following notices of these works aie selected from amongst nume- 
 rous commendations bestowed on them by the Reviews and public prints: — 
 
 " The volumes before us are every way worthy of their subject. It would 
 seem almost supererogatoiy to pass any judgment on the style of a writer 
 so ce!(^brated as Dr. Chalmers. He is well known as a logician not to be 
 baffled by any difficulties ; as one who boldly grapples with his theme, and 
 brings every energy of his clear and nervous intellect into the field. No 
 fophistiy escapes his eagle vision — no argeiment that could either enforce 
 or illustrate his subject is left untouched. Our literature owes a deep debt 
 of gratitude to the author of these admirable volumes." — -Lit. Gazelle. 
 
 " It is ably written, and replete both with interest and instruction. The 
 diflusion of such works cannot fail to be attended with the happiest effects 
 in justifying ' the ways of God to man,' and illustrating the wisdom and 
 goodness of the Creator by arguments which appeal irresistibly both to the 
 reason and feelings. Few can understand abstract reasoning, and still fewer 
 relish if, or will listen to it: but in this woik the purest morality and the 
 kindliest feelings are inculcated' through the medium of agreeable and use« 
 ful information." — Ballimore GazttU. 
 
" In the present treatise, it is a matter of the warmest satisfaction to find 
 an anatomist of Sir Charles Bell's great eminence, professing his contempt 
 for the late fashionable doctrines of Materialism held by so many anato. 
 mists, and now coming forward to present the fruits of his wide researches 
 and great ability, in a treatise so full of curious and interesting matter, 
 expressly intended to prove, by the examinaJion of one particular point, 
 that design which is imprevsed on all parts of the various animals which 
 in some degree answer the purposes of the hand, and has shown that the 
 hand is not the source of contrivance, nor consequently of man's superi- 
 ority, as some materialists have maintained, lo this he has added some 
 very valuable remarks, showing the uses of pain, and he has illustrated 
 this work with a variety of the most admirable and interesting wood 
 cuts." — British Magazine. 
 
 " The manner in which he has executed his task is able and satisfactory. 
 With great and extensive experimental knowledge, and a complete ac- 
 quaintance with his subject, as well as just and elevated views of the great- 
 ness and divine nature of the Creator, he has brought one of the most 
 powerful chains of reasoning to the support of Revelation which philoso- 
 phy has yet added to that holy cause." — JV*. F. Commercial, 
 
 " Let works like that befoie us be widely disseminated, and the bold, ac- 
 tive, and ingenious enemies of religion be met by those, equally sagacious, 
 alert and resolute, and the most timid of the many who depend upon the 
 {gw, need not fear the host that comes with subtle steps to < steal their faith 
 away.' "— JY*. Y. American. 
 
 "That the devoted spirit of the work is most exemplary, that we have 
 here and there found, or fancied, room for cavil, only peradventure be- 
 cause we have been unable to follow the author through the prodigious 
 range of his philoso})l)ical survey — and in a word, that the work before us 
 would have made the reputation of any other man, and may well maintain 
 even that of Professor Whevvell." — Melropolilan. 
 
 "We have read this work (Buckland's Geology, &ic.) with a degree of 
 satisfaction and admiration which has increased at every step. 
 
 " It is a full digest of the most important facts in geology, happily com- 
 bined, with great condensation and perspicuity, and by the most liberal use 
 of plates beautifully executed, it speaks intelligibly to the eyes, even of 
 those who are not familiar with the language of natural history, and thus 
 it displays the astonishing structure of the world. 
 
 "The great moral demonstration which is its main object, is fully sus- 
 tained, and we think that no man can rise from the intelligent perusal of it, 
 without a full conviction that a creating and governing mind, infinite in 
 power, knowledge, wisdom and benevolence, has gradually arranged the 
 materials of this planet, and caused to be interred in its strata and mineral 
 masses, documents of its history, and of that of innumerable races of ani- 
 mals and plants, from the most miscroscopic to the most collosal, which 
 lived and died ere man appeared — documents surpassing in niunber and in 
 credibility every thing of actual history, except the inspired record itself. 
 
 " With this record we believe these facts to be entirely consistent, and 
 we are fully assured that ignorance of them is the sole cause of the incre- 
 dulity and displeasure which are manifested by some as to the moral bear- 
 ing of geology. 
 
 " We cannot now enter upon this argument, and can only say, in con- 
 clusion, that Dr. Buckland has, by the present work, laid both science and 
 religion under great obligations, — while he will delight all his readers by 
 the vigour, beauty and eloquence which gives his work as high a rank in 
 literature as it claims in science." — Silliman's Journal. 
 

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