HDI HW 1790 R YOUNG FOLKS LIBRARY HE YOUNG FOLKS" LIBRARY LAG YOUNG FOLKS' LIBRARY SELECTIONS FROM THE CHOICEST LITERATURE OF ALL LANDS: FOLK-LORE, FAIRY TALES, FABLES, LEGENDS, NATURAL HISTORY, WONDERS OF EARTH, SEA AND SKY, ANIMAL STORIES, SEA TALES, BRAVE DEEDS, EXPLORATIONS, STORIES OF SCHOOL AND COLLEGE LIFE, BIOGRAPHY, HISTORY, PATRI- OTIC ELOQUENCE, POETRY THIRD EDITION REVISED IN CONFERENCE BY THOMAS. BAILEY ALDRICH, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF, PRESIDENT WILLIAM JEWETT TUCKER, HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, HENRY VAN DYKE, NATHAN HASKELL DOLE TWENTY VOLUMES RICHLY ILLUSTRATED BOSTON HALL AND LOCKE COMPANY PUBLISHERS KE 5742 HARVARD UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 045*38 COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY HALL & LOCKE COMPANY. Boston, U. S. A. Stanbope Press F. H. GILSON COMPANY BOSTON, U.S.A. EDITORIAL BOARD LL.D., THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, Editor-in- | WILLIAM RAINEY HARPER, D.D., chief, Author, poet, former editor Atlan- || President Chicago University. tic Monthly, Boston, Mass. | DAVID STARR JORDAN, M.D., LL.D., The HON. GEORGE FRISBIE HOAR, President Leland Stanford Junior United States Senator, Worcester, University, naturalist, writer, Stan- Mass. ford University, Cal. The HON. JOHN D. LONG, Secretary of the United States CHARLES ELIOT NORTON, A.M., LL.D., etc., Navy, Boston. Scholar, author, Emeritus Profes- HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, LL.D., sor of Art at Harvard University. Author, literarian, associate editor HENRY VAN DYKE, D.D., LL.D., The Outlook, New York. Clergyman, author, Professor ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, Princeton University. Artist, author, New York. The REVEREND THOMAS J. SHAHAN, JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE, Dean of the Faculty of Divinity, Author, poet, and editor, Arling- Professor of Early Ecclesiastical ton, Mass. History, Catholic University, The REVEREND CYRUS TOWNSEND Washington, D.C. BRADY, Archdeacon, author, Philadelphia. WILLIAM P. TRENT, JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS, Author, editor, Professor of Eng- lish Literature, Columbia Univer- Humorous writer, Atlanta, Ga. sity, New York City. MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD, Historical novelist, Chicago. EDWARD SINGLETON HOLDEN, A.M., LL:D., LAURA E. RICHARDS, Ex-president University of Cali- Author, Gardiner, Me. fornia, astronomer, author, U.S. Military Academy, West Point. ROSWELL FIELD, Author, editor The Evening Post, | EDWIN ERLE SPARKS, Chicago. Professor of American History, TUDOR JENKS, Chicago University. Author, associate editor Saint | The VERY REV. GEORGE M. GRANT, Nicholas, New York. D.D., LL.D., Educator, author, vice-principal GEORGE A. HENTY, Queen's College, Kingston, Ont. Traveller, author, London, Eng. 1 land. NATHAN HASKELL DOLE, Author, translator, literary editor KIRK MUNROE, Writer of stories for boys, Cocoa- Current History, Boston. nut Grove, Fla. ABBIE FARWELL BROWN, EDITH M. THOMAS, Author, Boston. Poet, West New Brighton, N.Y. CHARLES WELSH, Managing Editor, CAROLINE TICKNOR, Author, lecturer, editor, Winthrop Author, editor, Boston. Highlands, Mass. LIST OF VOLUMES VOLUME I. THE STORY TELLER Edited by CHARLES ELIOT NORTON VOLUME XI. WONDERS OF EARTH, SEA, AND SKY Edited by EDWARD SINGLETON HOLDEN VOLUME II. THE MERRY MAKER Edited by JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS VOLUME XII. FAMOUS TRAVELS Edited by GEORGE A. HENTY VOLUME III. FAMOUS FAIRY TALES Edited by RoswELL FIELD VOLUME XIII. SEA STORIES Edited by CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY VOLUME IV. TALES OF FANTASY Edited by TUDOR JENKS VOLUME XIV. A BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY Edited by DaviD STARR JORDAN VOLUME V. MYTHS AND LEGENDS Edited by THOMAS J. SHAHAN VOLUME XV. HISTORIC SCENES IN FICTION Edited by HENRY VAN DYKE VOLUME VI. THE ANIMAL STORY BOOK Edited by ERNEST THOMPSON SETON VOLUME XVI. FAMOUS BATTLES BY LAND AND SEA Edited by JOHN D. LONG VOLUME VII. SCHOOL AND COLLEGE DAYS Edited by KIRK MUNROE and MARY HARTWELL CATHER- WOOD VOLUME XVII. MEN WHO HAVE RISEN Edited by HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE VOLUME XVIII. BOOK OF PATRIOTISM Edited by GEORGE FRISBIE HOAR VOLUME VIII. BOOK OF ADVENTURE Edited by NATHAN HASKELL DOLE VOLUME IX. FAMOUS EXPLORERS Edited by EDWIN ERLE SPARKS VOLUME XIX. LEADERS OF MEN, OR HISTORY TOLD IN BIOGRAPHY Edited by WILLIAM RAINEY HARPER VOLUME X. BRAVE DEEDS Edited by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE VOLUME XX. FAMOUS POEMS Selected by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH, with Poetical Fore- word by Edith M. THOMAS. "SADDLE AND MAN ROLLED ON THE GROUND UNDER A CLOUD of Dust.'' Young Folks' Library in Twenty Volumes Thomas Bailey Aldrich, Editor-in-Chief THE BOOK OF ADVENTURE EDITED BY NATHAN HASKELL DOLE VOLUME VII1. BOSTON HALL AND LOCKE COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY HALL & LOCKE COMPANY. Boston, U. S. A. Stanbope Press F. H. GILSON COMPANY . BOSTON, U.S. A. CONTENTS PAGE X1 . LIST OF COLORED ILLUSTRATIONS . . . . . . . . TALES OF COURAGE AND ACTION . . . . . . . . . BY NATHAN HASKELL DOLE. A DARING ESCAPE FROM A FRENCH PRISON . . . . BY SIR SAMUEL W. BAKER. EXPLORING THE BAGWORTHY WATER . . . . . BY R. D. BLACKMORE. 1 . . . . . . 45 AN ADVENTURE IN THULE . . . . . . . . . BY WILLIAM BLACK. THE FIRST SALLY AND THE ADVENTURE WITH THE WINDMILL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . BY DON MIGUEL DE CERVANTES. ON THE TRAIL . . . . . . . . . . . . . BY JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. . . 67 . . . . . . . . . AN OLD COCKED HAT . . . . . . . . . . . . 105 By S. A. DRAKE. FALSE TEETH, AN EYEGLASS, AND WHITE LEGS... 114 BY H. RIDER HAGGARD. A BRAVE WOMAN'S ADVENTURE . . . . . BY WASHINGTON IRVING. AN ADVENTURE IN WAR TIME . . . . . . . . . 131 BY JOHN P. KENNEDY. How THEY TOOK THE GOLD-TRAIN . . . . . . . 147 BY CHARLES KINGSLEY. RESCUED FROM THE INDIANS . . . . . . . . . 181 BY CAPT. F. MARRYAT. THE ESCAPE . . . . . . . . . . . . . BY HERMANN MELVILLE. . . . . • Contents PAGE THE MARCH TO MEXICO . . . . . . . . . . By W. H. PRESCOTT. ADVENTURE OF LEIF THE LUCKY . . . . . . FROM THE OLD SAGAS. THE DISINHERITED KNIGHT . . . . . . . . BY SIR WALTER Scott. . . 256 . . 266 . . . . . . . . . . . 283 ADVENTURES OF A KING BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. KIDNAPPED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289 By R. L. STEVENSON. IN FLOOD TIME . . . . . . . . . . . . . . BY RUDYARD KIPLING. ADVENTURES OF A Boy AMONG THE RED INDIANS . BY JOHN TANNER. A CAPTIVE IN THE CAUCASUS. . . . . . . . . 333 By L. N. Tolstoi. AN ADVENTURE WITH Sioux INDIANS . . . . . . 372 BY JULES VERNE. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES . . . . . . . . . . . . . SUGGESTIONS FOR SUPPLEMENTARY READING. . . . . 393 NOTE. The publishers' acknowledgment is due to Messrs. Lee and Shepard for permission to use “ An Old Cocked Hat” by S. A. Drake. LIST OF COLORED ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE “ SADDLE AND MAN ROLLED ON THE GROUND UNDER A CLOUD OF DUST" . . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece Don QuixotE'S ADVENTURE WITH THE WINDMILLS Face Page 76 Boston Boys GUYING British OFFICERS ....... 104 “ AND HORSE SHOE ROBINSON Pur His HORSE UP TO A GALLOP” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140 “ AND THEN OUT BOUNDED THE ANGRY SNAKE, FOLLOWED by His BAND".............. 192 • HE CAME UPON COASTS WHICH HE HAD NEVER HEARD OF” ............... 260 • HOSEASON TURNED UPON HIM WITH A Flash " .... 298 AND NINETY BLACK AND WHITE PICTURES IN THE TEXT. TALES OF COURAGE AND ACTION BY NATHAN HASKELL DOLE. HEALTHY boys crave adventure and stories of adven- ture, and it is certainly well to cater to this inherent taste by giving them the best literature that can satisfy it. The abundance of such literature in every depart- ment proves that it is a necessity. It is simply bewil- dering. If we begin with Homer we have Odysseus, or Ulysses, and his men sailing by the Island of the Sirens, landing on the wild cavernous coast of Sicily, then a far-away land, putting out the eye of the Cy- clops Polyphemus, dallying with Circe and Calypso, shipwrecked on the shores of Phæacia, and at last, after long years, returning home to be recognized by his noble old dog, Argos the Swift, and showing the insolent suitors that his arm has not lost its vigor. How full of adventure are the myths of all nations ! The voyage of the ship Argo after the Golden Fleece, the twelve labors of Hercules, the splendid exploits of Perseus, will instantly occur to the memory. We can- not look at the evening sky without seeing these old xiv Tales of Courage and Action stories told in the changeless hieroglyphics of the con- stellations. Then there are the Sagas of the North, and the great cluster of legends that have the Rhine gold for their central theme. It is adventure piled on adventure. Russia furnishes her share of such stories, both myth- ical and historical: the giant peasant of the folk-tale flinging his plough high into the sky, and following his prince through fierce conflicts and exciting perils, holds his own with Yermak, the Cossack conqueror of Siberia. Then how many stories there are of adventures with wild beasts, beginning with Samson's weaponless fight with the lion. Can we ever forget the thrill with which we read the old story of the skater chased by the wolves ? Can we not see their fierce eyes glaring askance as their prey eludes them and they go slipping by on the glare black ice, while he thus gains a half mile only to be caught up again, and again plays the same skilful dodge ? What boy has not delighted in scaring himself with the pretence that wolves or bears or Indians were after him, and thus added wings, as it were, to his heels ? The Literature of Adventure lies on every hand : it is in poetry from Homer to Scott and William Morris ; it is in history from Herodotus to Prescott and Irving ; it is in multitudes of autobiographic travels from Marco Polo to Livingstone and Nordenskjöld and Landor. It is in thousands of novels, in every language. One Tales of Courage and Action XV could easily fill a score of volumes with choice extracts from all this vast mass of captivating reading. The present volume is devoted to adventures selected only from fiction and such history as is allied to fiction. Russia, France, Spain, and Germany are represented, as well as England and America. It is a cosmopolitan selection, with no lack of vital variety. The touch of humor is found in the immortal knight-errantry of Don Quixote. The poor old gentleman is manifestly insane, but he has lost none of his nobility of character, none of his generosity, none of his gallantry. To him the windmills are actual giants, and his prowess in giving battle to them is rendered pathetic by his lofty persua- sion that he is going to rid the world of insolent Pay- nims. In his eyes every milkmaid is a princess in dis- guise, and his illusion carries with it a perfect lesson in manners. An excellent contrast to the extravagancies of Don Quixote is given in Scott's picture of the Dis- inherited Knight. In the one, Cervantes pictures chiv- alry as gone to seed. He shivered with his pen the whole artificial literature which the Spain of his day imagined it was enjoying. In “ Ivanhoe” Scott recre- ated an age which once existed, and by his magic made it vivid and real again. The boy's legitimate craving for stories of Indians is met in the scenes from Marry- at's “ Settlers,” the remarkable and veracious narration of John Tanner's captivity, and Cooper's “ Last of the Mohicans.” xvi Tales of Courage and Action More distant and romantic in their environment are the glowing passages from “ King Solomon's Mines,” “Swiss Family Robinson,” and Kingsley's “Westward, Ho!” while for thrilling simplicity of narration, there are few stories that compare with Count Tolstoï's de- scription of the Russian officer's escape from the fierce Tartars of the Caucasus, aided by the jigit's cunning little daughter, Dina. This also finds its contrasts in Sir Samuel W. Baker's narration of the daring escape from a French prison and the escape which Herman Melville pictures in “ Typee.” William Black takes the reader to the wild coast of Northern Scotland, and R. D. Black- more explores with him the brigand-haunted mysteries of Bagworthy water, where the memory of the redoubt- able Doones still makes those hillsides eerie. There is no need of calling over the whole bill of fare. Enough has been shown to prove that the table is both varied and attractive. It will indeed speak for itself, and tempt to further excursions into this marvel- lous range of wholesome literature. Nathanclaskelldoe. . THE BOOK OF ADVENTURE CAST UP BY THE SEA “ CAST UP BY THE SEA ” is a story of Cornish fishermen, a sturdy race of wreckers and smugglers. A hundred years ago otherwise honest fishermen thought smuggling a fair trade. It was profitable but danger- ous, especially at that time, England being at war with France; for not only the law, but a foreign foe was to be dreaded. A stirring chapter of the story relates to Paul Grey, a brave and skilful sailor, the owner of the Polly, the smartest little smuggling craft afloat. Paul used to face the perils of the Channel and meet his confederate, Captain Dupuis, off the French coast, - where they exchanged cargoes. But this Dupuis, who owed Paul a large sum of money, was a treacherous fellow, who planned to rid himself of his debt and to win prize money by the capture of the Polly. One night when Paul crossed the Channel as usual, Dupuis sent a false pilot, who decoyed the sloop into a French harbor, where she was seized by a waiting man-of-war. Paul and his crew of fifteen were cast into a French prison, where Léontine Dioré, the jailer's daughter, be- came interested in him and in Dick Stone, his favorite shipmate, who shared Paul's cell. They learned that Léontine's brother Victor had been captured by the English and was imprisoned in Falmouth, near Paul's own home at Sandy Cove. Hoping that the girl might help them to escape, Dick pretended that he had seen her brother, and hinted that he had a secret plan for securing Victor's release. This increased Léontine's interest in the prisoners; and events at length aided her in carrying out Dick's plan, which here follows. A . A DARING ESCAPE FROM FRENCH PRISON (From Cast UP BY THE SEA.) BY SIR S. W. BAKER. CORE than two months had passed wearily in the French prison, during which both Paul and Dick Stone had been buoyed up in inaction by the hope of carry- ing into execution a plan for their escape. The only view from the prison windows was the sea, and the street and beach in the foreground. The Polly still lay at anchor in the same spot, as some difficulty had arisen between Captain Dupuis and the captain of the corvette that had to be settled in the law courts. In the meantime both Paul and Dick Stone had not only become great friends of the jailer, Jean Dioré, and his daughter, but Dick had quickly found an opportunity to disclose his secret, which succeeded in winning the heart of the enterprising Léontine. Dick had made a The Book of Adventure re m a D declaration of love, and to prove his sincerity, he pro- posed that he should conduct her direct to her brother in the English prison, whose release should be effected by an exchange; and he had persuaded her that, if she should aid in the escape of Paul and the entire crew of the Polly, there would be no difficulty in obtaining her brother's release when the facts should become known to the English authorities. Paul had added his persua- sions to those of Dick Stone; he had excited the sister's warmest feelings by painting the joys he would feel in rescuing her brother from a miserable existence, and he had gained her sympathy by a description of the misery and suspense that his own wife must be suffering in her ignorance of all that had befallen him. Léontine was won. She was brave as a lion, and, her determina- tion once formed, she was prepared to act without flinching. Many times Dick Stone had lighted his pipe, and puffed and considered as he took counsel with Paul on the plan that the latter had proposed. All was agreed upon. Paul had thus arranged the attempt at escape. All was to be in readiness for the first gale that should blow from either west or south. Léontine had provided him with a couple of large files and a small crowbar about two feet long, which she had purchased in the village with money supplied by Paul; these she had introduced to his room by secreting them beneath her clothes. At various times she had purchased large supplies of strong twine in skeins, which to avoid suspicion she had described as required for making nets; these she had wa A Daring Escape from a French Prison 3 also introduced daily, until sufficient had been collected for the manufacture of ropes, at which both Paul and Dick Stone worked incessantly during the night, and concealed them in the daytime within their mattresses, by cutting a hole beneath. Whenever the time should arrive it had been arranged that Léontine was to procure the keys of the cells in which the crew of the Polly were confined, and she was to convey the pris- oners at night into the apartment occupied by Paul and Dick, whence they were to descend from the win- dow by a rope into the fosse that surrounded the prison; fortunately, this ditch was dry, and Léontine was to fix a stake into the ground about the fosse, from which she was to suspend a knotted rope after dark, to enable the prisoners to ascend upon the opposite side. The great difficulty would be in avoiding the sentry, who was always on guard within fifty paces of the spot where they would be forced to descend, and whence they must afterward ascend from the ditch. The affair was to be left entirely in the hands of Léontine, who assured Paul and Dick that she would manage the sen- try if they would be ready at the right moment to assist her. When freed from the prison, they were to make a rush to the beach, seize the first boat, of which many were always at hand, and board and capture the Polly; once on board the trusty lugger, in a westerly or south- erly gale, Paul knew there was nothing could overtake her. Such was the plan agreed upon, and everything had been carefully prepared and in readiness for some days, but the favorable weather had not yet arrived. Daily and hourly Paul looked from the grated windows upon The Book of Adventure пе І. his beloved Polly, which lay still at anchor idle in the bay, about fifty yards from the French corvette. At length, as early one morning he as usual looked out from his prison, he saw a boat pulling from the shore, followed quickly by several others conveying cargo, and steering for the Polly; the bustle upon the deck, and the refitting of ropes and rigging, plainly discernible from the prison window, left no doubt upon Paul's mind that the Polly was about to leave the harbor, and perhaps be lost to him forever. At this painful sight Dick lighted his pipe, and smoked with violence until the tobacco was half con- sumed, when suddenly, in a fit of excitement that was quite unusual, he hastily put his adviser in his pocket, and seizing a file from beneath his mattress he imme- diately commenced work upon the bottom of an iron bar that protected the narrow window. “That's right, Dick," said Paul; “now or never ! The clouds are hurrying up from the sou’-west, and I think it's coming on to blow; as old Mother Lee says, • Luck comes from the sou’-west;' so bear a hand, and give me the file when you get tired.” As Paul had observed, the scud was flying rapidly across the sky from the right quarter, and both men worked hard alternately, and in an hour they had divided the thick iron bar close to the base. “ Now for the top,” said Dick. “We'll soon cut it through, although it's harder work, as we can't put our weight to the file.” “Never mind the file,” said Paul, who now grasped the severed bar in his iron hands; " with such a purchase I could wrench the bar asunder. Something A Daring Escape from a French Prison 5 shall give way,” he said, as with the force of Samson he exerted every muscle, and wrenched the bar from its loosened base. The stone in which it was fixed first crumbled at the joint, and then suddenly cracking, Paul fell sprawling on his back with the bar in his hands, while a heavy fragment of stone fell upon the floor. “ Take care, captain,” said Dick ; “ gently with the stones. We shall alarm the jailer if we make so much noise. Why, you've settled the job in one pull!” “Here, Dick,” continued Paul, as he sprung from the floor, “ take the bar while I move a stone from the side with the crow. We won't take it right out lest the jailer should notice it if he comes with the break- fast; but we'll loosen it so that we can remove it quickly when necessary, as the window is too narrow for our shoulders.” Paul then inserted the thin edge of the crowbar, and by gently working it backward and forward he removed the stones and enlarged the aperture sufficiently to admit the passage of a man; he then replaced the stones, together with the bar, and so arranged the window that no one would have observed any disturb- ance unless by a close inspection. Hardly had they completed their work when footsteps were heard with- out, succeeded by the turning of the key in the creak- ing lock of their door. In an instant Dick, who had lighted his pipe, leaned upon the windowsill and looked steadily out of the window, at the same time he puffed such dense clouds of smoke as would have effectually screened any damage that had been done by the work of the crowbar. The Book of Adventure The door opened, and fortunately Léontine appeared instead of her father. She brought the breakfast. « Quick!” she exclaimed, “ there is no time to lose. The wind has changed, and people say we shall have a gale from the sou’-west. The Polly is to sail to-mor- row. Captain Dupuis has loaded her, and he will him- self depart in the morning should the wind be fair. You must all get ready for the work,” continued the determined girl, as her large eyes flashed with energy. “We have not been idle, my pretty Léontine," said Paul, as he exhibited their morning's work, “but we now depend upon you. It will be quite dark at eight o'clock. You must have the rope ready secured to this small crowbar, driven into the earth on the other side of the fosse; the bar is sharp and heavy; it will make no noise if you can manage to strike it into the ground in exactly the same spot three or four times, and simply hang this loop upon it, pressed close down to the base.” At the same time he gave her the bar, and a rope coiled, about twenty feet in length. Paul continued, “ You must also be punctual in bringing the other pris- oners here at half-past eight, and tell them to take their shoes off and to tie them round their waists. But how about the sentry?” asked Paul. “Don't be afraid,” said Léontine ; “I have already arranged everything this morning. Fortune has favored us; François is to be on guard to-night; the guard is relieved at eight o'clock, at which time he will come on duty, therefore we have nothing to fear for some hours. I will manage François ; leave him to me. He is an old lover of mine, and I have appointed to meet him to-night.” A Daring Escape from SON Om a French Prison 7 At this confession, thus boldly made, Dick Stone puffed violently at his pipe, and was almost concealed by his own smoke, when Léontine continued : “He is a sad fellow, and has given me much trouble, but I shall pay him out to-night. Look here, Dick,” she continued, “ if you are worth having you'll help me quickly to-night, for I shall depend upon you. I have agreed to meet François this evening at half-past eight, as I have pretended to accept his love. To avoid detection (as he will be on guard), I am to be disguised as a soldier, and he will send me the clothes and arms to-day. I shall keep my appointment, and engage him in conversation so closely that he will not hear you ; but at the last moment you must be ready to rush upon him and secure him, while I endeavor to prevent him from giving an alarm. At the same time,” continued Léontine, “ you must promise not to hurt him, for François is a good fellow, and is very fond of me.” “ Only let me get hold of him,” cried Dick Stone. “ Will you ? ” replied Léontine; “ then the enter- prise ceases at the very beginning. You shall not escape unless you swear that no harm shall befall François.” “Do not be afraid,” said Paul ; but he continued : “ It may be a difficult affair if he is a powerful man- what size is he ?” “Oh,” replied Léontine, laughing, “a little fellow, about as big as I am. You could soon manage poor François; he would be a mere child in the grasp of such a man as yourself.” “ All right,” said Paul, “ then there's no fear of 8 The Book of Adventure murder; depend upon me, Léontine, no harm shall touch him.” “Mind you seize the right man,” said the gay Léon- tine, “when I give the signal, as I shall be in a soldier's uniform, and you may mistake me for François. The signal will be, “A friend;' the instant that I give the word, seize and disarm him before he can fire his musket. You will then have two muskets, mine and that of François, with which you must take your chance in boarding the Polly.” “ That will do,” said Paul; “let me only set foot on the Polly's deck, and I'll soon settle accounts with Monsieur Dupuis. But now," added Paul, “we are agreed upon all points, and we depend upon you, Léon- tine ; do not forget to visit the beach, and see that the oars and a boat-hook, with a sharp axe to cut the cable, are placed in readiness within a large boat, to which you must guide us when we leave the prison.” “Never fear,” said Léontine; “I shall not fail in my part, and I shall give the signal as the clock chimes half-past eight; you must be ready on the instant. Here is a letter,” continued the girl, as the tears started to her eyes, “ that I have written for my father; you must leave it on the table when you escape, and it will explain all; he will then, perhaps, forgive me when he knows that I risk my life for Victor.” Saying which, she left the room and locked the door behind her. Léontine now hurried her preparations, while the day passed wearily away to those who were awaiting the hour of their deliverance. Paul and Dick Stone counted the hours as the neigh- boring church clock struck heavily on the bell. A Daring Escape from a French Prison 9 “ We shall run to the cove in twelve hours," said Paul, “ if this breeze lasts ; it's blowing a gale out at . sea, and the Polly ’ll fly like a witch on a broom-stick.” “We've got to take her first,” replied the wary Dick. 6. There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip!”. “We are short of weapons, no doubt,” said Paul ; “ but we must take off the sword-bayonets from the muskets, and give them to two of the men. I will be first on board, and knock down Dupuis. Let the men rush to the main-mast and secure the arms from the rack the moment that they reach the deck, while you, Dick, seize the helm. I will tell off four men to loose the sails and to cut the cable directly that we get on board. This will leave us ten men to do the fighting. If all goes well we shall find the better part of the French crew down below, and, once in possession of the deck, they will be at our mercy. This gale of wind will start the Polly like a wild duck the instant that the cable is cut, and we shall be round the corner of the island before the corvette can bring her guns to bear upon us. Then, with a dark night and a heavy gale, the Polly can take care of herself.” The day at length passed away, and the sun set. The wind roared through the narrow streets of the town, and whistled loudly around the pointed towers of the old prison. “There could not be a better night,” said Paul; “ the wind roars like a lion, and nothing will be heard by the sentry.” As he was speaking the clock struck eight. As the last tone of the bell died away the lock of the door creaked as the key turned from the outside ; and pres- ently without a sound of footsteps, thirteen strapping 10 The Book of Adventure A 1 fellows, who had been liberated by Léontine, softly entered the room, carrying their shoes strapped to their belts, as had been directed by Paul. No time was lost in useless greeting; but the severed bar of the window was at once made use of as a lever to remove the heavy stones, and in less than ten minutes an aperture was made sufficiently large for an exit. Paul now fastened the rope that had been concealed in his mattress to the centre of the iron bar; then, lowering the other end from the window until it reached the fosse, he fixed the bar across the base, so that it was secured on either side by the masonry. All was now ready, and, lest they should be disturbed, Dick Stone, hav- ing received the key from Léontine, locked the door on the inside. Paul went first. It was with some difficulty that he squeezed his broad shoulders through the narrow opening; but once without the PPT wall he nimbly lowered himself to the bottom, a depth of about sixty feet. In a much shorter time than might be supposed the active sailors had succeeded in reaching the bottom of the fosse, without having made the slightest noise. The wind blew louder than before; there was no moon, and merely a faint light was given at intervals by the stars that every now and then peeped from between the driving clouds. A Daring Escape from a French Prison 11 arra Carefully leading the way, Paul crossed the broad fosse, and felt with his hand the opposite wall, against which he expected to find the rope that was to have been arranged by Léontine. He was followed noise- lessly by the crew for about twenty yards, when he suddenly halted as he caught the dangling rope. With extreme care Paul now climbed, hand over hand, to the top, having previously whispered to Dick Stone to hold the end of the rope, and to ascend when he should give a jerk as a signal of safety. Arrived at the top, on the soft green turf at the edge of the moat, Paul lay flat upon the ground, and listened. He could see nothing, therefore he knew that he could not be seen; but he fancied that he could hear a sup- pressed voice in the direction of the sentry. He gave a slight jerk to the rope, and presently Dick Stone arrived, and crept to Paul's side, quickly followed by all the others. They all remained flat upon the grass, which, being about a foot in height, effectually con- cealed them in the darkness of the night. Paul now crept forward upon his hands and knees, followed in the same manner by Dick Stone; the other men had received orders to jump up and join them immediately upon hearing the signal, “A friend.” In a few minutes Paul was within a dozen yards of the sentry; and as he and Dick then lay flat upon the earth they could faintly distinguish two figures stand- ing close together, and in intervals between the gusts they could hear voices. We will return to Léontine. She had not failed in any of her arrangements. The unsuspecting François had fallen into her snare, and, 12 The Book of Adventure delighted with the assignation, he had run great risk in the hope of securing the love of the charming Léon- tine. He had borrowed for her a comrade's uniform and arms; and thus accoutred as a soldier she met him at the appointed hour. They were now standing together by the edge of the moat, and Léontine had listened to his warm declarations of affection. François was enraptured; for more than a year he had vainly sought to win her love. As the belle of the village, Léontine had many admirers; a certain lieutenant was reported to be a favored suitor; thus what chance was there for a private such as François ? True or false, the jealous heart of François had believed these reports, and he had yielded to despair. Judge of his transport when, within the last few hours, he had been led to hope; and now, when he had nearly given her up as lost, he almost held her in his arms. Alas! for military discipline when beauty leads the attack! François thought of nothing but his love. There was a railing by the edge of the moat, against which Léontine had rested her musket; the unwary sentry did the same; and the two weapons leaned peacefully side by side, as the soldier, intoxicated by his love, suddenly caught her round the waist with both arms and pressed his lips to her cheek. At this moment the dull clang of the prison clock struck the half hour; struggling in his embrace, Léontine exclaimed: “Oh, if I could call - a friend !'” At the same instant with both her hands she slipped into his mouth a wooden instrument called a gag, that was used to silence uproarious prisoners. The signal, “ A friend,” had been given in a loud A Daring Escape 13 ab0 Ison ГОта Prison enci from a French voice, as though in reply to the usual challenge, and before the unlucky François could relieve himself from the gag he was caught from behind in the tremendous grasp of Paul's arms, while Dick Stone. by mistake rushed upon Léontine: a vigorous smack on the face from her delicate hand immediately undeceived him. “ Take that musket,” whispered Léontine, quickly, “ and come along.” At the same time she seized the remaining musket, while Paul pinioned the arms of their prisoner with his handkerchief, and threatened him with instant death should he resist. No time was lost. Paul threw the sentry over his shoulder as though he had been a lamb, and the whole party hurried after Léontine, who had led the way to the beach. This affair had been managed so dexterously and quietly that no sound had been heard except the reply, “ A friend,” that was the preconcerted signal of attack; but upon arrival at the beach the rattling of the shingle as the large party hurried toward the boat threatened to attract a dangerous attention. A large number of boats were drawn up upon the beach, but Léontine, without a moment's hesitation, led Paul and his party to one that had the oars already arranged; and the powerful crew, seizing it by the bow and the stern, ran it along the steep incline and launched it through the waves. Not a word had been spoken, but there was a sound of many feet as the crew jumped into the boat that could not be mistaken. Paul laid his struggling burden 14 The Book of Adventure "Par upon the beach, and Léontine, before she leaped into the boat, whispered in the captive's ear: “François, if you give the alarm I'll never love you again.” With this coquettish adieu she followed Paul and Dick Stone, who were the last of the party. “Steer straight for the Polly, and give way, my lads! for there's no time to lose,” said Paul, who had taken his position in the bow of the boat with Dick Stone, both of whom were armed with muskets, while two men with sword-bayonets were ready to follow them. “Make a rush on board,” said Paul, “and knock down everybody without asking questions; then seize the arms from the rack and chest.” The water was deep in the rocky bay, thus the Polly was moored to a buoy little more than two hundred yards from the shore; a light was visible on board, and the lanterns of the corvette were also burning about fifty paces distant, where she lay moored by stem and stern. They now pulled swiftly but silently toward the lugger. Paul's heart bounded with hope, while Dick Stone, as cool as ice, but determined upon the event, waited for the command. They neared the vessel. What boat's that?” was the sudden challenge from the lugger's deck, as their boat came within a couple of oars' length. “A friend !” shouted Léontine in French, and almost in the same instant a man in the bow of the boat caught hold of the mizzen shrouds of the lugger with his boat-hook, and held on. Paul seized a rope, and in one bound he was upon the lugger's deck, while Dick Stone followed like his uma Ne 11 A Daring Escape from a French Prison 15 shadow. To knock down the first man with a double- handed thrust with the barrel of his musket was the work of a moment, at the same instant Dick struck and felled a Frenchman who had rushed to the arm-chest. A shot was now fired by one of the French crew, and several men made a dash at the arm-rack, but Paul was there before them, and with the butt end of his musket he struck down the leader of the party. At this moment a loud shrill cry of alarm was heard from the shore. “ Ha, le sacré François !” exclaimed Léontine, who had in the meantime attached the deserted boat to the lugger’s stern. “ Ha, le misérable !” she cried ; “ this is a return for my love !”. Two or three shots were now fired by the French crew, but without other results than to alarm the ship- of-war; the drum beat to quarters, lights were seen at her ports; a tremendous flash was accompanied by the report of a cannon as she fired an alarm-gun; this was quickly answered by a shot from a battery above the town. The bells of the church and the prison rang wildly as shot after shot was fired from the battery, and the alarm spread like wild-fire throughout the port. In the meantime, while the fight had been hot upon the Polly's decks, Captain Dupuis, who had been asleep when the vessel was first boarded, now rushed up from the cabin, and meeting Paul he fired a pistol within a few feet of his chest; fortunately, at that moment Paul was in the act of raising his musket, and the ball lodged in the tough walnut stock; the next instant the weapon fell with a crash upon Dupuis's 16 The Book of Adventure as skull, who reeled backward, and stumbling against the low bulwarks he fell overboard and sank. Dick Stone, with his musket in one hand that he had not yet discharged, was now standing at the helm The English crew had gained the arms from the rack, and several shots were fired as they drove the French toward the bows of the lugger, following them up with the bayonet. Many of the French jumped overboard, calling loudly to the man-of-war for assistance, and those who were down below were already helpless, as the companion ladder was guarded by two armed men. The surprise was complete; Léontine had hauled her boat alongside, and had climbed on board; the cable was cut, and the sails were let loose; but the danger had increased. The French crew who had jumped overboard called to the corvette to fire and sink the lugger. This they had hitherto been afraid to do, as their own countrymen were on board. A blue light was now burned upon the decks of the corvette, and distinctly illumined the scene just as the sails of the Polly filled, as her head turned from the severed cable, and she met the full force of the gale from the shore. In an instant she leaned over, and as the water rippled from her bows and the boom was slacked off she started like a wild duck frightened from its nest. “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” rang three hearty Brit- ish cheers as the clipper lugger glided rapidly through the dark water and passed the terrible broadside of the corvette within fifty or sixty yards. But hardly had the Polly cleared the deadly row of guns, when, a flash! and the shock seemed to sweep her deck as the dense smoke rolled across her in the midst of the roar A Daring Escape from a French Prison 17 of a twenty-pounder fired from the last gun of the tier. A terrible crash almost immediately followed the shock, and the painter or rope that attaches the boat to the stern of the lugger suddenly dangled loosely in the water, as the shot had dashed the boat to atoms; fortunately the Polly had just passed the fatal line of fire. Another wild “hurrah !” replied to the un- successful gun, as the lugger, released from the boat's weight, seemed to fly still quicker through the water. “ Take the helm for a moment,” said Dick to a sailor by his side, and running amidships he called upon Paul, “Give a hand, captain, and we'll get the Long Tom round.” In an instant Paul put his powerful shoulder to the long six-pounder that worked on a pivot, and together, with joint exertions, they trained the gun upon the stern windows of the corvette. Dick Stone had just beforehand lighted his pipe when standing at the helm, and as the long gun bore upon its object he suddenly pushed Paul upon one side, and emptied his fiery bowl upon the touch-hole. Bang! went the gun, as the six- pound shot crashed through the cabin windows of the corvette, and through the various bulkheads, raking · her from stem to stern. “Hurrah !” again shouted the crew, who like true British sailors were ready for any fight without reckon- ing the odds when the cannon once began to speak, while Paul and several men sponged and reloaded the long gun, as the corvette had lowered several boats to give chase. “Hurrah for the saucy Polly!” shouted Paul, as he and Dick now trained the gun upon the leading CO 18 The Book of Adventure boat; but at that moment they turned the sharp head- land of the rocky island, and both the corvette and her boats were obscured from their view. It was blowing hard, but the water in the bay was perfectly smooth, as the wind was directly off the shore, and the Polly flew like a race-horse toward the open sea. In a few minutes she passed the last headland, and rushed at foaming speed over the long swell of the Atlantic. With the gale fairly on her quarter, there was nothing that could touch the Polly. There was no fear of a chase, although the heavy booming of the alarm-guns could still be heard in the distance. Three Frenchmen had been killed in the fight, and their bodies, which now lay on deck, were thrown over- board ; two were prisoners down below; the remainder of the crew had escaped by jumping overboard, with the exception of the treacherous Captain Dupuis, who had sunk when knocked down by Paul. Dick Stone was now at the helm ; his pipe was well alight; and could his features have been distinguished in the dark they would be seen to wear an unusually cheerful expression as he said to Paul, “ It wouldn't have been purlite of us to leave the Mounseers without a salute, and without my pipe we couldn't have fired the gun. It's a wonderful thing is a pipe! Ain't it, captain?” “ Nor’-nor'east is the course, Dick,” replied Paul, who was at that moment thinking of his wife, and the happiness it would be to meet her on the following day; at the same time he was anxious lest any mis- fortune should have occurred during his long absence. “ Nor’-nor'-east it is, captain,” replied Dick, with a r A Daring Escape from a French Prison 19 sailor's promptitude; “ but I can't help larfing when I think of Captain Doopwee, who has put a cargo on board the Polly all for nothing, and has got knocked on the head into the bargain. Well, sarve him right, sarve him right,” continued Dick, musingly; “ he was a very purlite varmint, too purlite to be honest, by a long chalk.” After this curt biographical memoir of the late Captain Dupuis, Dick Stone applied himself to his pipe, and kept the Polly's course N.N.E. While Paul and Dick Stone were upon deck Léontine was lying upon a cot within the cabin. The excite- ment of the day had nearly worn her out, and despite the uneasy movement of the vessel, which tried her more severely than any danger, she fell asleep in the uniform of a private in the French chasseurs, and she dreamed happily that her brother Victor was released. LORNA DOONE Lorna Doone is a tale of Exmoor in the south-west- ern corner of England — a wild and interesting region even to-day. But two hundred years ago it was even wilder and more interesting. The quiet farmers who lived in the little villages near the coast had strange neighbors hidden in the loneliness of the vast moor; and sometimes strange things happened far from the sight of the great world. Down one of the dark valleys which cut the moor, rushed a swift and dangerous stream known as the Bagworthy water. The valley whence the stream arose was the home of the Doones — a fierce band of murderers and robbers - the terror of the country ; and no one dared venture near their haunts. These terrible outlaws drove away cattle from the neighboring farms, kidnapped children, and killed anyone who presumed to interfere. Two years before this story opens, the Doones had basely murdered a prosperous farmer on the moor; and his son, John Ridd, who was the biggest and bravest fellow in the county, grew up with a stern resolve to avenge the crime. He practised continually with the carbine until he became a champion marksman, and increased his strength by all kinds of hardy exercise. He was ever thinking of the bloody Doones and of their well- hidden home, longing for the day when he could meet them face to face. But he had not ventured into the valley until one day when he was fourteen. In his own words, John tells how he explored the Bagworthy water, and had his first sight of the outlaws and of Lorna Doone. 22 The Book of Adventure ny most people who tasted them; at any rate, I now re- solved to get some loaches for her, and do them in the selfsame manner, just to make her eat a bit. ... Being resolved to catch some loaches, whatever trouble it cost me, I set forth without a word to any one, in the forenoon of St. Valentine's day, 1675-6, I think it must have been. Annie should not come with me, because the water was so cold; for the winter had been long, and snow lay here and there in patches in the hollow of the banks, like a lady's gloves forgotten. ... I never could forget that day, and how bitter cold the water was. For I doffed my shoes and hose, and put them into a bag about my neck, and left my little coat at home, and tied my shirt sleeves back to my shoulders. Then I took a three-pronged fork firmly bound to a rod with cord, and a piece of canvas kerchief with a lump of bread inside it; and so went into the pebbly water, trying to think how warm it was. For more than a mile all down the Lynn stream, scarcely a stone I left unturned, being thoroughly skilled in the tricks of the loach, and knowing how he hides himself. For, being gray-spotted, and clear to see through, and something like a cuttle-fish, only more substantial, he will stay quite still where a streak of weed is in the rapid water, hoping to be overlooked, not caring even to wag his tail. Then, being disturbed, he flips away, like whalebone from the finger, and hies to a shelf of stone, and lies with his sharp head poked in under it; or sometimes he bellies him into the mud, and only shows his back-ridge. And that is the time to spear him nicely, holding the fork very gingerly. ... Or, if your loach should not be abroad when first you Exploring the Bagworthy Water 2 3 come to look for him, but keeping snug in his little home, then you may see him come forth amazed at the quivering of the shingles, and oar himself and look at you, and then dart up stream, like a little gray streak; and then you must try to mark him in, and follow very daintily. So after that, in a sandy place, you steal up behind his tail to him, so that he cannot set eyes on you, for his head is up stream always, and there you see him abiding still, clear, and mild and affable. Then, as he looks so innocent, you make full sure to prog him well, in spite of the wry of the water, and the sun mak- ing elbows to everything, and the trembling of your fingers. But when you gird at him lovingly, and have as good as gotten him, lo! in the go-by of the river he is gone as a shadow goes, and only a little cloud of mud curls away from the points of the fork. A long way down that limpid water, chill and bright as an iceberg, went my little self that day on man's choice errand -— destruction. All the young fish seemed to know that I was one who had taken out God's certif- icate, and meant to have the value of it; every one of them was aware that we desolate more than replenish the earth. For a cow might come and look into the water, and put her yellow lips down; a kingfisher, like a blue arrow, might shoot through the dark alleys over the channel, or sit on a dipping withy-bough, with his beak sunk into his breast feathers; even an otter might float down stream, likening himself to a log of wood, with his flat head flush with the water-top, and his oily eyes peering quietly; and yet no panic would seize other life, as it does when a sample of man comes. Now let not any one suppose that I thought of these 10 24. The Book of Adventure things when I was young, for I knew not the way to do it. And proud enough in truth I was at the uni- versal fear I spread in all those lonely places, where I myself must have been afraid, if anything had come up to me. It is all very pretty to see the trees big with their hopes of another year, though dumb as yet on the subject, and the waters murmuring gayety, and the banks spread out with comfort; but a boy takes none of this to heart, unless he be meant for a poet (which God can never charge upon me), and he would liefer have a good apple, or even a bad one if he stole it. When I had travelled two miles or so, conquered now and then with cold, and coming out to rub my legs into a lively friction, and only fishing here and there because of the tumbling water; suddenly, in an open space, where meadows spread about it, I found a good stream flowing softly into the body of our brook. And it brought, so far as I could guess by the sweep of it under my knee-caps, a larger power of clear water than the Lynn itself had ; only it came more quietly down, not being troubled with stairs and steps, as the fortune of the Lynn is, but gliding smoothly and forcibly, as if upon some set purpose. Hereupon I drew up and thought, and reason was much inside me: because the water was bitter cold, and my little toes were aching. So on the bank I rubbed them well with a sprout of young sting-nettle, and having skipped about a while, was kindly inclined to eat a bit. Now all the turn of my life hung upon that moment. But as I sat there munching a crust of Betty Mux- worthy's sweet brown-bread, and a bit of cold bacon lason Exploring the Bagworthy Water 25 along with it, and kicking my little red heels against the dry loam to keep them warm, I knew no more than a fish under the fork what was going on over me. It seemed a sad business to go back now and tell Annie there were no loaches; and yet it was a frightful thing, knowing what I did of it, to venture, where no grown man durst, up the Bagworthy water. And please to recollect that I was only a boy in those days, fond enough of anything new, but not like a man to meet it. However, as I ate more and more, my spirit arose within me, and I thought of what my father had been, and how he had told me a hundred times never to be a coward. And then I grew warm, and my little heart was ashamed of its pitapating, and I said to myself, “Now, if father looks, he shall see that I obey him.” So I put the bag round my neck again, and buckled my breeches far up from the knee, expecting deeper water, and crossing the Lynn, went stoutly up under the branches which hang so dark on the Bagworthy river. I found it strongly overwoven, turned, and torn with thicket-wood, but not so rocky as the Lynn, and more inclined to go evenly. There were bars of chafed stakes stretched from the sides half-way across the current, and light out-riders of pithy weed, and blades of last year's water-grass trembling in the quiet places, like a spider's threads, on the transparent stillness, with a tint of olive moving it. And here and there the sun came in, as if his light was sifted, making dance upon the waves, and shadowing the pebbles. Here, although afrighted often by the deep, dark places, and feeling that every step I took might never be taken backward, on the whole I had very comely те 26 The Book of Adventure sport of loaches, trout, and minnows, forking some, and tickling some, and driving others to shallow nooks, whence I could bail them ashore. Now, if you have ever been fishing, you will not wonder that I was led on, forgetting all about danger, and taking no heed of the time, but shouting in a childish way whenever I caught a “whacker” (as we called a big fish at Tiver- ton); and in sooth there were very fine loaches here, having more lie and harborage than in the rough Lynn stream, though not quite so large as in the Lowman, where I have even taken them to the weight of half a pound. But in answer to all my shouts there never was any sound at all, except of a rocky echo, or a scared bird hustling away, or the sudden dive of a water-vole; and the place grew thicker and thicker, and the covert grew darker above me, until I thought that the fishes might have good chance of eating me, instead of my eating the fishes. For now the day was falling fast behind the brown of the hill-tops; and the trees, being void of leaf and hard, seemed giants ready to beat me. And every mo- ment as the sky was clearing up for a white frost, the cold of the water got worse and worse, until I was fit to cry with it. And so, in a sorry plight, I came to an opening in the bushes, where a great black pool lay in front of me, whitened with snow (as I thought) at the sides, till I saw it was only foam-froth. Now, though I could swim with great ease and com- fort, and feared no depth of water, when I could fairly come to it, yet I had no desire to go over head and ears into this great pool, being so cramped and weary, and 0 0 Exploring the Bagworthy Water 27 TO cold enough in all conscience, though wet only up to the middle, not counting my arms and shoulders. And the look of this black pit was enough to stop one from diving into it, even on a hot summer's day, with sun- shine on the water; I mean, if the sun ever shone there. As it was, I shuddered and drew back; not alone at the pool itself and the black air there was about it, but also at the whirling manner, and wisping of white threads upon it in stripy circles round and round; and the centre still as jet. But soon I saw the reason of the stir and depth of that great pit, as well as of the roaring sound which long had made me wonder. For skirting round one side, with very little comfort, because the rocks were high and steep, and the ledge at the foot so narrow, I came to a sudden sight and marvel, such as I never dreamed of. For, lo! I stood at the foot of a long pale slide of water, coming smoothly to me, without any break or hindrance, for a hundred yards or more, and fenced on either side with cliff, sheer, and straight, and shining. The water neither ran nor fell, nor leaped with any spouting, but made one even slope of it, as if it had been combed or planed, and looking like a plank of deal laid down a deep black staircase. However, there was no side-rail, nor any place to walk upon, only the channel a fathom wide, and the perpendicular walls of crag shutting out the evening. The look of this place had a sad effect, scaring me very greatly, and making me feel that I would give something only to be at home again, with Annie cook- ing my supper, and our dog, Watch, sniffing upward. But nothing would come of wishing; that I had long as 28 The Book of Adventure found out; and it only made one the less inclined to work without white feather. So I laid the case before me in a little council; not for loss of time, but only that I wanted rest, and to see things truly. Then says I to myself, “ John Ridd, these trees, and pools, and lonesome rocks, and setting of the sunlight, are making a gruesome coward of thee. Shall I go back to my mother so, and be called her fearless boy ?” Nevertheless, I am free to own that it was not any fine sense of shame which settled my decision; for in- deed there was nearly as much of danger in going back as in going on, and perhaps even more of labor, the journey being so roundabout. But that which saved me from turning back, was a strange, inquisitive desire, very unbecoming in a boy of little years; in a word, I would risk a great deal to know what made the water come down like that, and what there was at the top of it. Therefore, seeing hard strife before me, I girt up my breeches anew, with each buckle one hole tighter, for the sodden straps were stretching and giving, and may- hap my legs were grown smaller from the coldness of it. Then I bestowed my fish around my neck more tightly, and not stopping to look much, for fear of fear, crawled along over the fork of rocks, where the water had scooped the stone out, and shunning thus the ledge from whence it rose like the mane of a white horse into the broad black pool, softly I let my feet into the dip and rush of the torrent. And here I had reckoned without my host, although (as I thought) so clever; and it was much but that I 30 The Book of Adventure back by the way I had gone down into it, and further up was a hedge of rock on either side of the water- way, rising a hundred yards in height, and for all I could tell five hundred, and no place to set a foot in. Having said the Lord's Prayer (which was all I knew), and made a very bad job of it, I grasped the good loach-stick under a knot, and steadied me with my left hand, and so with a sigh of despair began my course up the fearful torrent-way. To me it seemed half a mile, at least, of sliding water above me, but in truth it was little more than a furlong, as I came to know afterward. It would have been a hard ascent even without the slippery slime and the force of the river over it, and I had scanty hope indeed of ever winning the summit. Nevertheless my terror left me, now I was face to face with it, and had to meet the worst; and I set myself to do my best with a vigor and hardiness which did not then surprise me, but have done so ever since. The water was only six inches deep, or from that to nine at the utmost, and all the way up I could see my feet looking white in the gloom of the hollow, and here and there I found resting-place, to hold on by the cliff and pant a while. And gradually as I went on, a warmth of courage breathed in me, to think that per- haps no other had dared to try that pass before me, and to wonder what mother would say to it. And then came thought of my father also, and the pain of my feet abated. How I went carefully, step by step, keeping my arms in front of me, and never daring to straighten my knees, is more than I can tell clearly, or even like now Exploring the Bagworthy Water 31 to think of, because it makes me dream of it. Only I must acknowledge that the greatest danger of all was just where I saw no jeopardy, but ran up a patch of black ooze-weed in a very boastful manner, being now not far from the summit. Here I fell very piteously, and was like to have broken my knee-cap, and the torrent got hold of my other leg while I was indulging the bruised one. And then a vile knotting of cramp disabled me, and for a while I could only roar, till my mouth was full of water, and all of my body was sliding. But the fright of that brought me to again, and my elbow caught in a rock-hole ; and so I managed to start again, with the help of more humility. Now, being in the most dreadful fright, because I was so near the top, and hope was beating within me, I labored hard with both legs and arms going like a mill, and grunting. At last the rush of forked water where first it came over the lips of the fall, drove me into the middle, and I stuck a while with my toe-balls on the slippery links of the pop-weed, and the world was green and gliddery, and I durst not look behind me. Then I made up my mind to die at last; for so my legs would ache no more, and my breath not pain my heart so; only it did seem such a pity, after fight- ing so long, to give in, and the light was coming upon me, and again I fought toward it; then suddenly I felt fresh air and fell into it headlong. When I came to myself again, my hands were full of young grass and mould, and a little girl kneeling at my side was rubbing my forehead tenderly with a dock-leaf and a handkerchief. The Book of Adventure nv “Oh, I am so glad!” she whispered softly, as I opened my eyes and looked at her; “ now you will try to be better, won't you ?” I had never heard so sweet a sound as came from be- tween her bright red lips, while there she knelt and gazed at me; neither had I ever seen anything so beauti- ful as the large dark eyes intent upon me, full of pity and wonder. And then, my nature being slow, and perhaps, for that matter, heavy, I wandered with my hazy eyes down the black shower of her hair, as to my jaded gaze it seemed; and where it fell on the turf, among it (like an early star) was the first primrose of the season. And since that day, I think of her, through all the rough storms of my life, when I see an early primrose. Perhaps she liked my countenance, and in- deed I know she did, because she said so afterward; although at the time she was too young to know what made her take to me. Not that I had any beauty, or ever pretended to have any, only a solid, healthy face, which many girls have laughed at. Thereupon I sat upright, with my little trident still in one hand, and was much afraid to speak to her, being conscious of my country-brogue, lest she should cease to like me. But she clapped her hands, and made a trifling dance around my back, and came to me on the other side, as if I were a great plaything. “ What is your name?” she said, as if she had every right to ask me ;“ and how did you come here, and what are these wet things in this great bag ?” “ You had better let them alone,” I said ; " they are loaches for my mother. But I will give you some, if you like.” Exploring the Bagworthy Water 33 “Dear me, how much you think of them! Why, they are only fish. But how your feet are bleeding ! Oh, I must tie them up for you. And no shoes nor stockings ! Is your mother very poor, poor boy ?” “ No," I said, being vexed at this; “ we are rich enough to buy all this great meadow, if we chose; and here my shoes and stockings be.” “ Why, they are quite as wet as your feet: and I cannot bear to see your feet. Oh,. please let me manage them ; I will do it very softly." “Oh, I don't think much of that," I re- plied. “I shall put some goose-grease to 5 them. But how you are looking at me! I never saw any one like you before. My name is John Ridd. What is your name?” I “Lorna Doone," she answered, in a low voice, as if afraid of it, and hanging her head so that I could see only her forehead and eyelashes; “if you please my name is Lorna Doone; and I thought you must have known it." Then I stood up and touched her hand, and tried to make her look at me; but she only turned away the more. Young and harmless as she was, her name 34 The Book of Adventure C seen SW alone made guilt of her. Nevertheless, I could not help looking at her tenderly, and the more when her blushes turned into tears, and her tears to long, low sobs. “Don't cry,” I said, “whatever you do. I am sure you have never done any harm. I will give you all my fish, Lorna, and catch some more for mother; only don't be angry with me.” She Alung her little soft arms up in the passion of her tears, and looked at me so piteously, that what did I do but kiss her. It seemed to be a very odd thing, when I came to think of it, because I hated kissing so, as all honest boys must do. But she touched my heart with a sudden delight, like a cowslip blossom (although there were none to be seen yet) and the sweetest flowers of spring. She gave me no encouragement, as my mother in her place would have done; nay, she even wiped her lips (which methought was rather rude of her), and drew away, and smoothed her dress as if I had used a free- dom. Then I felt my cheeks grow burning red, then I gazed at my legs and was sorry. For although she was not at all a proud child (at any rate in her coun- tenance), yet I knew that she was by birth a thousand years in front of me. They might have taken and trained me, or (which would be more to the purpose) my sisters, until it was time for us to die, and then have trained our children after us, for many genera- tions; yet never could we have gotten that look upon our faces which Lorna Doone had naturally, as if she had been born to it. Here was I, a yeoman's boy, a yeoman every inch of Exploring the Bagworthy Water 35 me, even where I was naked; and there was she, a lady born, and thoroughly aware of it, and dressed by people of rank and taste, who took pride in her beauty and set it to advantage. For though her hair was fallen down by reason of her wildness, and some of her frock was touched with wet where she had tended me so, behold her dress was pretty enough for the queen of all the angels! The colors were bright and rich indeed, and the substance very sumptuous, yet simple and free from tinsel stuff, and matching most harmoni- ously. All from her waist to her neck was white, plaited in close like a curtain, and the dark soft weep- ing of her hair, and the shadowy light of her eyes (like a wood rayed through with sunset), made it seem yet whiter, as if it were done on purpose. As for the rest, she knew what it was a great deal better than I did; for I never could look far away from her eyes when they were opened upon me. Now, seeing how I heeded her, and feeling that I had kissed her, although she was such a little girl, eight years old or thereabout, she turned to the stream in a bashful manner, and began to watch the water, and rubbed one leg against the other. I, for my part, being vexed at her behavior to me, took up all my things to go, and made a fuss about it, to let her know I was going. But she did not call me back at all, as I had made sure she would do; more- over, I knew that to try the descent was almost certain death to me, and it looked as dark as pitch ; and so at the mouth I turned round again, and came back to her, and said, “ Lorna. “Oh, I thought you were gone,” she answered ; Exploring the Bagworthy Water 37 She shrank to me, and looked up at me, with such a power of weakness, that I at once made up my mind to save her or to die with her. A tingle went through all my bones, and I only longed for my carbine. The little girl took courage from me, and put her cheek quite close to mine. “Come with me down the waterfall. I can carry you easily; and mother will take care of you." “No, no,” she cried, as I took her up. “I will tell you what to do. They are only looking for me. You see that hole, that hole there?” She pointed to a little niche in the rock which verged the meadow, about fifty yards away from us. In the fading of the twilight I could just descry it. “ Yes, I see it; but they will see me crossing the grass to get there." “Look, look !” She could hardly speak. “ There is a way out from the top of it; they would kill me if I told it. Oh, here they come; I can see them.' The little maid turned as white as the snow which hung on the rocks above her, and she looked at the water and then at me, and she cried, “ Oh, dear! oh, dear!” And then she began to sob aloud, being so young and unready. But I drew her behind the withy- bushes, and close down to the water, where it was quiet and shelving deep, ere it came to the lip of the chasm. Here they could not see either of us from the upper valley, and might have sought a long time for us, even when they came quite near, if the trees had been clad in their summer clothes. Luckily, I had picked up my fish and taken my three-pronged fork away. Crouching in that hollow nest, as children get to- se en 38 · The Book of Adventure gether in ever so little compass, I saw a dozen fierce men come down, on the other side of the water, not bearing any firearm, but looking lax and jovial, as if they were come from riding and a dinner taken hun- grily. “Queen, queen!” they were shouting, here and there, and now and then; “ where the pest is our little queen gone?” “They always call me queen,' and I am to be queen by and by,” Lorna whispered to me, and her soft cheek on my rough one, and her little heart beating against me; “oh, they are crossing by the timber there, and then they are sure to see us.” “Stop,” said I; “now I see what to do. I must get into the water, and you must go to sleep.” “ To be sure, yes, away in the meadow there. But how bitter cold it will be for you!” She saw in a moment the way to do it, sooner than I could tell her; and there was no time to lose. “ Now mind you never come again,” she whispered over her shoulder, as she crept away with a childish twist, hiding her white front from me “ only I shall sometimes — oh, here they are, Madonna!” Daring scarce to peep, I crept into the water, and lay down bodily in it, with my head between two blocks of stone, and some flood-drift combing over me. The dusk was deepening between the hills, and a white mist lay on the river; but I, being in the channel of it, could see every ripple, and twig, and rush, and glazing of twilight above it, as bright as in a picture, so that to my ignor- ance there seemed no chance at all but what the men must find me. For all this time they were shouting, and swearing, and keeping such a hullabaloo, that the ev Exploring the Bagworthy Water 39 rocks all round the valley rang, and my heart quaked, so (what with this and the cold) that the water began to gurgle around me, and to lap upon the pebbles. Neither, in truth, did I try to stop it, being now so desperate, between the fear and the wretchedness, till I caught a glimpse of the little maid, whose beauty and whose kindliness had made me yearn to be with her. And then I knew that for her sake I was bound to be brave and hide myself. She was lying beneath a rock, thirty or forty yards from me, feigning to be fast asleep, with her dress spread beautifully, and her hair drawn over her. Presently one of the great rough men came round a corner upon her; and there he stopped and gazed a while at her fairness and her innocence. Then he caught her up in his arms, and kissed her so that I heard him ; and if I had only brought my gun, I would have tried to shoot him. “ Here our queen is! Here's the queen; here's the captain's daughter!” he shouted to his comrades ; “fast asleep, by God, and hearty! Now I have first claim to her; and no one else shall touch the child. Back to the bottle, all of you!” He set her dainty little form upon his great square shoulder, and her narrow feet in one broad hand; and so in triumph marched away, with the purple velvet of her skirt ruffling in his long black beard and the silken length of her hair fetched out, like a cloud by the wind, behind her. This way of her going vexed me so, that I leaped upright in the water, and must have been spied by some of them, but for their haste to the wine- bottle. Of their little queen they took small notice, 40 The Book of Adventure being in this urgency — although they had thought to find her drowned — but trooped away one after another with kindly challenge to gambling, so far as I could make them out; and I kept sharp watch, I assure you. Going up that darkened glen, little Lorna, riding still the largest and most fierce of them, turned and put up a hand to me, and I put up a hand to her, in the thick of the mist and the willows. She was gone, my little dear (though tall of her age and healthy); and when I got over my thriftless fright, I longed to have more to say to her. Her voice to me was so different from all I had ever heard before, as might be a sweet silver bell intoned to the small chords of a harp. But I had no time to think about this, if I hoped to have any supper. I crept into a bush for warmth, and rubbed my shivering legs on bark, and longed for mother's fagot. Then, as daylight sank below the forget-me-not of stars, with a sorrow to be quit, I knew that now must be my time to get away, if there were any. Therefore, wringing my sodden breeches, I managed to crawl from the bank to the niche in the cliff which Lorna had shown me. Through the dusk I had trouble to see the mouth, at even five land-yards of distance; nevertheless I entered well, and held on by some dead fern-stems, and did hope that no one would shoot me. But while I was hugging myself like this, with a boyish manner of reasoning, my joy was like to have ended in sad grief both to myself and my mother, and haply to all honest folk who shall love to read this history. For, hearing a noise in front of me, and like Exploring the Bagworthy Water 41 a coward not knowing where, but afraid to turn round or think of it, I felt myself going down some deep passage into a pit of darkness. It was no good to catch the sides, the whole thing seemed to go with me. Then, without knowing how, I was leaning over the night of water. This water was of black radiance, as are certain diamonds, spanned across with vaults of rock, and carrying no image, neither showing marge nor end, but centred (as it might be) with a bottomless indrawal. With that chill and dread upon me, and the sheer rock all around, and the faint light heaving wavily on the silence of this gulf, I must have lost my wits and gone to the bottom, if there were any. But suddenly a robin sang (as they will do after dark, toward spring) in the brown fern and ivy behind me. I took it for our little Annie's voice (for she could call any robin), and gathering quick warm com- fort, sprang up the steep way toward the starlight. Climbing back, as the stones glided down, I heard the greedy wave go lapping, like a blind black dog, into the distance of arches and hollow depths of darkness. IN THULE THULE was William Black's favorite name for the islands northwest of Scotland. An “ Adventure in Thule" tells about Colin M'Calmont, whose father's sheep were pastured on Farriskeir, an uninhabited island off Lewis, the largest of the Hebrides. The flocks were unprotected, and the French fishermen on their way to Iceland found this a fine opportunity to steal a supply of fresh mutton. Colin resolved to take his friend Archie, the schoolmaster's son, and guard the sheep, and at the same time teach a lesson to the next party of marauding Frenchmen. He loaded with provisions a little sailboat belonging to his father, and sailed away. They soon spied a vessel making for the same harbor. The boys hurried to land, and hid behind the rocks where they could watch the strangers. Two men started to row ashore. At the right moment Colin popped Archie's big horse-pistol at the enemy, who seemed surprised, but continued rowing. The boys hid in a cave, and after waiting a long time, anxiously came out, only to discover that the rowboat and the vessel had disappeared, and that their own craft had been sunk by the enemy. The boys had to stay on the island without food until their relatives missed them and came to their assistance. They dined upon dulse and the Scotch clams called eachans, and when night fell they made beds of fern or bracken in the cave. But Colin's rest was uneasy, broken by the younger boy's complaints of strange noises and cries, which the author thus explains : AN ADVENTURE IN THULE BY WILLIAM BLACK. Cela se CA OLIN MÖCALMONT turned himself over on his bed of bracken. ... u Bu But suddenly he found himself wakened again; and he became dimly aware that Archie Livingston had a tight grip of his arm and was kneeling beside him. ... "I-I have seen one of them,” the younger boy gasped, and still he clung to his companion's arm as if for safety. “Oh, Colin, it is a terrible sight! Quite plain — down by the rocks — it did not move — " Colin sat up and rubbed his eyes. “What is this now?” said he, with a trifle of impatience. “ It is no foolishness this time,” the younger lad said, almost entreatingly. “You will see for yourself, Colin, if you have the courage to go. It is like a woman. It is one of the princesses. But she did not see me; or she would have changed into a swan and flown away. But it was a terrible, terrible sight; I will never forget it till the day I die — ” “I tell you, Archie,” said the other, angrily, “ that if you let such nonsense come into your head, it is mad you will be in time. Come and let me see your prin- 43 44 The Book of Adventure ev cesses and your wild swans now! And if it is a wild swan, perhaps I will tickle him before he flies away.” He got up and sought out the horse-pistol, which he had put in a dry place. ... “Oh, no, I cannot ! I cannot, Colin !” said the younger lad, who was still trembling. “Do you know this now, Archie, that I never heard of the ghost yet that would stand to have a charge of buck-shot put into it. It will be very fine now to have a shot at a ghost. Come away, Archie; and if we meet any ghost or princess or anybody of that kind, it is I who will go forward and speak to them and say, 'Good morning. For that is good manners to a stranger; and my father has the farming of Farriskeir; and if a stranger comes to Farriskeir, it is not I that would be so unfriendly as not to say Good morning.'” It was with the greatest reluctance that Archie Livingston consented to go out from the cave again with his companion ; and when at last he undertook to show M'Calmont where he had seen this strange thing he advanced with stealthy step and bated breath. ... At a certain eminence on one of the little plateaus, Archie Livingston gripped his arm, and he stopped to ask what this meant; but at the same moment he caught sight of something down by the shore there that — despite all his determination — made his face turn perfectly white. He would not budge. He stood still; but he found himself incapable of speaking. There, sure enough, down near the water's edge and seated on a rock, was a figure. It could not be an optical illusion ; for they were An Adventure in Thule 45 both regarding the same spot. And it was the figure of a woman, too — bent forward, her face resting on her hands and covered. And this woman was not dressed as any person in the Highlands dressed.. He stood and stared ; trying to get the better of this thumping of his heart, and summoning to his aid all his declared disbelief in ghosts. Then the woman down there lifted her head — wea- rily, as it seemed to him ; then she caught sight of the lads, and sprang to her feet with a slight cry, and advanced to them — her hands stretched out before her, and she was saying something. Now when she made this sudden and quick advance, Colin M'Calmont, despite himself, retreated a couple of steps; but he kept his face towards her; and then he stood. “ Archie,” said Colin, in a low voice,“ it is a woman. It is not any ghost. I cannot make out what she says except 'peety, peety !?” The young woman came nearer to them — now tim- idly and slowly — her hands still outstretched, and tears running down her face, while she spoke rapidly and imploringly. This appeal, which was a mute appeal so far as he was concerned, drove any remnant of fear out of his mind; he forgot even his timid companion behind; he went forward to her, wondering how he could convey to this poor young lady that they wished to be very friendly to her. He shook his head, to let her know he did not un- derstand her; and then she, with a great deal more of gladness in her face — for she could not but see that the lads wished to be friendly — began to try to ex- 46 The Book of Adventure plain her situation by signs. And again and again she pointed to the north, though there was no boat visible. “ Colin,” said the younger lad, “ she has been going to Iceland in one of the smacks; and the smack has got wrecked, and she has been saved.” “How could that be? Her clothes have not been in the water." “ Colin, say France to her, and you will see if she is French.” Colin repeated this word to her, which, to tell the truth, was all of the French language that either he or his companion knew; and instantly the young lady nodded eagerly, and said something which, of course, they did not understand. And now that they had begun to communicate with each other by signs it soon became clear that the younger lad was much sharper at that than his com- panion. In fact, Archie Livingston became the inter- preter. “ When she means 'yes,'” said he, to his companion, “sometimes she says see and sometimes wee ; but a nod of the head is still surer. And she says she will go with us to the mainland; but how am I to tell her that we have no boat, and that she must wait till the even- ing before we can light the bonfire ?” “Well, you must get on as well as you can, Archie,” said the other; "and there is the whole day for you to talk to her with your head and your hands; and in the meanwhile I am going away to dig for eachans, for who knows when the lady may have had anything to eat ?” “Do you think she will eat eachans ?” said Archie, doubtfully. An Adventure in Thule 47 “ It is better to eat eachans than to starve,” said the other. “You do not need the old man of Ross to tell you that. And if she is from France, people who eat frogs need not turn up their noses at eachans.” In not much more than a quarter of an hour Colin M’Calmont returned, carrying in both hands a sort of basket made of the fronds of the bracken, and in this green nest lay a quantity of eachans, like so many eggs, all washed white and clean. He put them down in front of her, and took out his pocket-knife and opened a few, as one might open oysters; and these he offered to her. What she did was singular. She took his hand and pressed it, and then smiled and shook her head. “Perhaps she is not hungry,” Colin said, after a second. “Perhaps she does not like shell-fish raw,” said the other. “ Could you not roast some, Colin, as the mus- sels are roasted ? Could we not make a small fire now, and roast some eachans in the ashes ?” “I see no difficulty about that whatever.” Nor was there. He collected some tufts of withered heather, and broke up one or two pieces of wood, and put underneath the pile a piece of a copy of the Oban Times that he had brought with him for wadding; and at the edge of the paper placed a small pioye. The flint from the horse-pistol and the back of his knife did the rest, and soon they had a small fire burning — the precursor of the greater bonfire of the evening. When the eachans were roasted Colin carefully picked out some of them from the ashes with a bit of stick; and Archie, when they were sufficiently cool to be 48 The Book of Adventure touched, brought them along and offered them to the lady. Tears came into her eyes as he did so. He thought it very strange that any one should cry for no apparent reason; but he was glad to see that she took one or two of the roasted shell-fish. “I am thinking,” said the elder of the lads, “ that she is only taking them to please us. If she was hungry, she would be quicker. I wonder now if it is not a drink of water she would rather have than any- thing else ? These French people are very unfortunate that they speak such a language.” But Archie Livingston, taking the hint, went away along the shore, kicking the sea-weed about until he found a large scallop shell, which he washed free of sand in the nearest pool. Then he went away over the grassy hillocks till he came to the spring, where he filled the shell. To carry anything like the full quan- tity back was clearly impossible ; but at least there was enough to let her understand that there was fresh water on the island. And how grateful the young lady seemed! She patted the boy on the head — on the shoulder — on the hand. And she spoke to him, though she knew he could not comprehend what she said. “But did you hear that, Colin ?” he said, turning to his companion. “She said a great deal about mercy. She said the water was a mercy. Now, that is what they say also in English ; when you have your food put before you — the meat and the drink — and when you do not ask the blessing in Gaelic, then you have to call these things on the table • mercies.' She must be very well brought up, and not a heathen at all.” An Adventure in Thule 49 “But this is what I am thinking of, Archie,” said the other; “ that the little water you can get in a scallop shell is not of much use to anyone. And if I could understand the lady as well as you can, I would ask her to go with me to the spring, and there she can have as much water as she likes." When this proposal was conveyed to her, she followed her guide gladly, and when they reached the spring she drank of the water freely by means of this shell. And then they went back to the fire, where Colin M'Calmont was having his breakfast; and the young lady made signs to the younger lad that he, too, was to join in that feast of roasted eachans, and that she was quite content. 6 Well, this is a strange thing,” said the younger one; “ but when we get back to the mainland we will know all about it, for my father knows French as well as Latin and a great many other things.” “But what is the use of knowing French ?” said the elder lad, who was a practical youth, and better ac- quainted with the price of sheep. “ The use of it? The use of it is to make you a learned person, and then the people pay you for teach- ing others.” “But your father does not teach any one French, Archie." “Well, then, the use of it is to make you not so ignorant as the other common people. When Sir Evan Roy comes to Glen Estera he will be speaking quite freely with my father; but the other ones they have to think about their English.” “I think Gaelic is as good a language as any; and also that it is more easily spoken than any other.' N . 50 The Book of Adventure “But of what use to you is Gaelic if you go away from the Lewis ? For my part, I would like to know six or seven languages.” “That would be a fine thing !” said the other, with a laugh of scorn. “ To spend all your life in learning the languages of other people; and then, when you had got them, it would be time to die. I think one lan- guage is quite enough for any one; and Gaelic is the easiest.” When they had finished their breakfast, they also went and had a drink of fresh water; and then they set to work to carry up to the highest plateau a pile of the wood that plentifully bestrewed the western shores of the island — some of it, indeed, having been hauled up above high-water mark for transportation to the mainland. The steamer had been comparatively a new one, and much of this wreckage consisted of internal fittings — cabin doors and tables, bottle ranges, benches, lockers, and what not — that had been wofully smashed. “It is very hard to burn all this good wood,” said Colin M'Calmont; "and much of it mahogany, too; but we must have a big blaze, and then we are saving the lady's life.” “Yes, and our own lives, too,” said the younger lad, sitting down for a rest, for it was stiff work carrying these planks. “ They will not be mourning over the wood when they find us alive. And by this time now, Colin, by this time, do you not think some one of the girls must have been sent down from the shieling for bread ?” “By this time, surely.” “ Then they will know we were not at the shiel- An Adventure in Thule 51 ing last night, and they will be looking everywhere for us; and they will be sure to go and look if the boat is in the creek. And when they see that the boat is not in the creek, they will know how we went away; and you may be sure there will be many a sharp eye on the lookout all the day and all the evening.” “Very well, now, Archie, I tell you what you will do. You will leave the rest of the building of the bon- fire to me, for I am not easily tired ; and you will go back and talk to the lady with your hands and your head as you were doing. Perhaps I will not use any more of the wood; that is the thing that is grieving me. I will build up three or four feet of the withered heather, and then I will put the wood on that. If it was only the autumn now, and we could get the withered bracken, there would be no need to use all that fine wood.” “ Have you a lead pencil, Colin ? ” “I have a small bit.” Archie was at this moment rummaging among the splinters and boards they had brought up; and at last he lit upon a piece of wood, painted white, that had been part of the door of a locker. “Give me your pencil, Colin, and I will go and tell the lady what we are waiting for.” “And if you cannot speak French, are you going to be writing French ?” said the other, with a laugh. “I am not going to write at all, Colin, except in the way that the ancient people wrote, on the Pyramids and such places as that. And you will see whether the lady will understand or whether she will not under- stand.” 52 The Book of Adventure see “Very well, then, Archie; go back to the lady, and I will go on with the bonfire; and this is what I am thinking, that I will build a bonfire that will be easily made out from the land. For you know what they say: “ There cannot be anything in the sky or on the earth, but the Islay men's eyes can behold ; nor can anything in a corner or lockfast place escape the eye of a Mullman. But what I say is that the Lewis men have sharper eyes than either.” “I think everyone knows that,” said Archie, “ from Fraserburgh all the way round to Greenock.” Well, when M'Calmont had finished piling up this great heap of heather and driftwood, he went and rejoined his companion; and found, to his great astonishment, that the young lady — whose black eyes seemed to be full of gladness and kindness and grati- tude — appeared to understand the whole situation of affairs. For young Livingston had drawn various things, in a rude sort of way, on a bit of white wood; and she seemed a clever, imaginative sort of person, for she guessed eagerly what he meant to convey. “I never saw a boat like that, Archie,” said the elder lad, laughing, “ for you have got the mast in the middle of her.” “ That is no matter at all,” said the other, without confusion, “if the lady understands that the boat will come for her after the bonfire is lit.” “ Then you might be doing a worse thing than asking her to come and look at the bonfire, now that it is complete. I can tell you, Archie, that my arms will be sore to-morrow." The boy showed her the rough sketch of a bonfire An Adventure in Thule 53 that he had made on the board, and then pointed to the middle of the island, himself setting out, and invit- ing her to accompany him. She understood at once, and smilingly assented. They led her by the driest ways (for there was some mossy ground on these plateaus) to the spot, and she seemed greatly pleased. “She can speak a little, Archie,” said the elder one. “ It is not much ; but it is a little. She cannot say bonfire, but she says 'bon, bon' — which is a part of it. Though she speaks through her nose, she under- stands well enough. The French are not so stupid as people say.” They passed the afternoon somehow. More eachans were roasted. As the evening fell the southerly wind freshened, and the skies got darkened over. “I hope there is not going to be a gale," said the younger lad, apprehensively. “ That is not any gale," said the other. “And if there was a gale now? We should be two or three days more on the island, perhaps; and what is that? Maybe I would have to shoot a sheep; for the finely brought up people they cannot live on a handful of eachans and a bit of dulse as you or I could, Archie. But that is not any gale; and the darker it grows the sooner will we light the bonfire; and the fresher the wind the sooner will the people come across in your father's boat. So there is nothing to have a downcast face about; and you must not show a downcast face; for the lady there she watches us both, and every one knows that women are easily frightened persons." They waited until the dusky twilight had gathered over land and sea before they lit the bonfire. At first 54 The Book of Adventure no e there was only a little crackling; then a few thin red tongues of fire ; then a growing blaze of crimson and orange that made the surrounding twilight look a strange, intense, livid blue. And then the fire began to roar, for the breeze fanned it; and soon there was a blazing mass of flame that surely would carry a message to the distant shores of Lewis. " Archie,” said the elder lad, “ you will keep stirring the bonfire now, and I will go for another armful or two of wood. We must have a big blaze in case there might be a shower of rain. Yes; and if there are any French smacks going by in the night, do you not think now that such a blaze as that will tell them that there is some one on Farriskeir ?” He went and came back with the first load of the driftwood. “ The sheep are wild with fright, Archie; they never saw anything like this on Farriskeir before.” He fetched another load. “ There, now,” said he, “that will make a blaze that will be seen from Gallon Head to Scarfa Island. And if they are already in your father's boat, it is not I that would be surprised; and with a good breeze of wind like this they will not be long in coming over.” “ Colin,” said the younger lad, “ this is what I am thinking of; when your father, or my father, or per- haps Dugald M’Lean from Glen Estera, comes over in the boat, and they will ask about the lady there, and who she is, and where she came from, what is it now that we will be saying ?” Colin laughed, in his superior wisdom. “ Then you do not remember what the old man of An Adventure in Thule 55 Ross said. This is what he said, Archie: 'That which you do not know, tell that to no one. How are we to be answering anything about the French young lady? Let them ask for themselves. And indeed I wish they were here; for it is not a pleasant thing that you and I should be talking and talking, and the lady there not able to know what is going on, because she understands nothing but that useless language. And if your father can speak that language, it is not anything to be proud of. He might have made a better use of his time.” The younger lad thought over this for some time. Then he said, - “Well, perhaps the French is not a very useful lan- guage while you are in the Lewis or any other part of that country. But if you wished to go to France ? If you wished to go to France, Colin, you would have to learn it. There now.” “If I wished to go to France !” said the other, scornfully. “And who would be so foolish as that? There is another wish that I have, that has more of common-sense in it. I would like to go to Fraser- burgh, and see the great fleet of fishing-boats. Now there would be some sense in that.” They formed a picturesque group there on the summit of the level plateau — the smaller lad stirring up the smouldering portions of the bonfire, the elder heaping on broken planks and sticks, the young girl standing apart and sometimes watching them and sometimes scanning the now darkened plain of the waters whence she understood that help was to come ; while as the masses of roaring fire waxed or waned, 56 The Book of Adventure Cove ere the long black shadows moved on the greensward and the rocks. Perhaps, indeed, it was their tending of the bonfire that prevented the lads from keeping a sharp look-out; at all events it was neither of them that first dis- covered that people were coming to their rescue. They had had the bonfire blazing for nearly an hour, when sud- denly the young lady came to them and eagerly said some- thing, and pointed towards the sea in the direction of the mainland. Both of the lads withdrew from the glare of the bon- fire and peered into the darkness with eyes that were well accus- tomed to descry distant ob- jects. “Well, now,” said Colin M‘Calmont, with some morti- fication, “it will be a strange thing if a French lady can make out what I cannot make out; but there is not any- thing that I can make out between here and the land.” “ Your eyes are blind with the fire, Colin, and so are mine,” said his companion. “I wish I could ask her what it is.” 58 The Book of Adventure It is your head that is full of nonsense about ghosts and things like that. This is what I will do for you now, Archie ; you will catch one of your ghosts and bring him to me; and I will take the knife I have for opening the mussels for bait, and I will cut open the ghost for you, and then you will be seeing whether he has any lungs, or a throat, or a tongue that could make a noise. I tell you I have not as much fear of a ghost as I have of a skate. When you are cutting open a skate, sometimes he will snap at your finger. I will let the ghost snap at my finger if he can.” Whether this logic quite convinced Archie Living- ston is not of much moment; he merely said, “It is I who am glad not to have another night on Farriskeir," and kept his eyes fixed on the sputtering red light that was now momentarily coming nearer. What a wild torrent of Gaelic was poured forth when the farmer and the schoolmaster got ashore — Colin and Archie helping to haul the bow of the boat up on to the shingle! Indeed, amid all these questions and exclamations and remonstrances the worthy school- master quite forgot that ordinarily he made it a strict rule to speak only in English. How could English - which is a slow, formal, limited language — have got from the boys a narration of all their adventures dur- ing these past two days ? But that over, Mr. Livings- ton recollected himself. « Archie,” said he, in his best English, "you wass saying the leddy is a French lady!” “ Seadh !” said Archie; and then he too recollected himself. “Ay, she's French. And no word of English at ahl.” An Adventure in Thule 59 “Kott pless me!” said the schoolmaster, looking somewhat distressed. And then he turned to his friend M'Calmont, Colin's father. “It is a terriple pusiness,” said he,“ to speak in another langwich when one is not speaking it for many years and years. Heh, Duncan, gif me the oat-cake and the whiskey out of the locker; and be quick about it, too. The boys are goot boys, and do not touch the whiskey; but if the young leddy has had nothing to eat abl the day but eachans, she will hef a drop of whiskey and no harm whateffer. And whiskey is a goot langwich that every one can under- stand.” The young French lady had come down from the plateau, and was standing apart — observing everything eagerly, but not attempting to speak. She could see by their gestures and by their occasionally looking towards her, that they were telling the story, so far as they knew it. But presently Mr. Livingston, having got some whiskey in a tumbler, and carrying a piece of oat-cake in his other hand, went along to where she was standing and made her a most gracious and courte- ous bow. Then he considered. He looked at her dark eyes vaguely (everything was lit up by the glare from the bonfire), as if he was wondering how to open communi- cation with her. Then he said, slowly, — “Mademoiselle — ici est — est oat-cake — et aussi whiskey — tres bon pour vous — ” But at the same instant he was evidently startled by her uttering a slight cry — partly of delight, partly of entreaty; and the next moment she was pouring out 60 The Book of Adventure the story of her wrongs and griefs, with many piteous gestures and appeals. The schoolmaster was quite bewildered. She spoke so rapidly, so pathetically, that he did not understand a single word; he could only vaguely gather from her piteous intonation that she had suffered injury and was begging him to be kind to her. “ Kott pless me! Kott pless me!” he murmured to himself; “it is a terriple thing to understand a stranche langwich. The poor creature! She will pay no heed to the oat-cake and the whiskey." Then to add to his confusion the farmer came up. “ Well, now, Mr. Livingston, what iss the matter about the young leddy? It is the stranchest thing I ever heard of. How wass she come to Farriskeir?” “ You will see this, Dunvorgan,” 1 said the school- master, “the French langwich is not like other lang- wiches; when it iss spoke slow, then effery one will understand it that knows it: but when it iss spoke quick, then no one understands it at ahl. We will get the young leddy into the poat, and we will tek her back home with us; and maype on the way I will hef the story to tell to you.” When the young lady understood that she was to go into the boat, she obeyed willingly; and when she had taken her seat in the stern, there was handed to her a rug made of the very finest sheep's wool, that Archie Livingston's mother had sent, thinking that the boys might have been shipwrecked and be found on the rocks with wet clothes. But indeed the night was not 1 The name of the farm. These territorial designations are common in Scotland. An Adventure in Thule 61 cold, and she merely let the rug lie across her knees. She seemed to care about nothing but having her story understood by the only one among these friendly people who knew a little of French. And when at length they had got the boat afloat again, and the mainsail hoisted, and when, in the silence of the night, they proceeded to make their way back to the mainland of Lewis, the schoolmaster man- aged to hint to her that, if she would speak slowly, and say what she had said all over again, he would under- stand her better. This intimation she seemed to com- prehend very well; for now she began very patiently to speak to him; and she instantly paused when he seemed not to follow her, so that he might have time to repeat the word or to question her. “Pless me, Dunvorgan,” said he, at length,“ but this is the stranche story; and if the two lads wass not happen to be on the island, it would hef been a mur- der, as sure as death. Poor thing! that was to hef been marriet this ferry day. We will hef the sheriff at Styornoway to inquire into this.” “ And what does she say, Mr. Livingston ?” asked the farmer. “Well, you see, Dunvorgan, it is not easy in the dark, where there is no light to write down a word, to understand such a langwich as the French langwich; but if I do not mek a great mistake, the young leddy was stolen away from her friends, and put on board the smack; and little doubt hef I that the master of the smack wass paid to mek away with her — maype in the night-time, if there was no one seeing. She iss from Morlaix, that iss on the coast of Brittany; and IN The Book of Adventure any one that iss well-read, and acquented with geogra- phy and other things, knows that the people of Brittany are ferry revencheful people. But the young leddy she wass making a prayer to the master of the smack; and maybe he . wass afrait; or maype he thought that leaving her on an island was ass goot ass anything to put her away — ay! ay! the poor young lass that was to hef been marriet this ferry day miro- ver!” “Mr. Livingston, some one will hef to answer for this; what do you think now ?” “ That is what I think. And we will get at the story better when we hef the sheriff from Styornoway; and the sheriff's lady – oh, she is wonderful goot at ahl langwiches, except the Gaelic, and she is not so goot at the Gaelic: and the sheriff will be for taking the young leddy over to Styornoway, no doubt, and putting her on board of the Clansman, and sending her back to her friends. And the goot heart of her! do you know what she hass been offering to me?” “How can I know ?” “She wass wanting me to tek her gold rings and her gold watch and chain, too; and to gif them to the boys for their kindness. Do you hear that, now, Colin, and you, too, Archie ? But I would not hef her go away back to France, and be speaking to the French people, and be saying that the Highland people would tek money for a kindness. I would not hef any one say that.” “That iss right, Mr. Livingston ; my boy Colin would tek no money for being of help to any one. And if he would tek.money, then it iss a stick I would An Adventure in Thule 63 USS tek to his back, to gif him a little goot manners. But it iss a stranche thing that the master of the yacht, if he wass such a scoundrel as that, wass not for stealing the young leddy's watch and other things too.” “Dunvorgan,” said the schoolmaster, thoughtfully, “I will tell you my opinion now — that the master of the smack wass afrait of what he had done, and wass glad to get her away out of the smack without think- ing of anything else. And I suppose he was thinking that if he left her on Farriskeir, no one would effer see or hear of her again — that she would go mad and drown herself, maype — ay, ay — and ferry likely that would hef happened but for the two young lads — it wass a very stranche chance." When they reached the shore on the other side it was close on midnight; but all the same there were near a dozen people waiting for them; and great was the wonderment among the folk when they heard the strange news. And they were civil enough not to stare at the young French lady; but they were very kind to her; and she was taken up to Dunvorgan farm, where they got some supper for her, and some tea, and gave her a bedroom all to herself — which is a luxury in those parts. And amid all this the lads found occasion to have a little talk between themselves - of course in Gaelic. “There is one good thing, Archie, that every one is taken up with the young French lady; and my father has not said anything about the loss of the boat.” “ And I do not think they will say anything now, Colin; for three lives are better than a boat.” 64 The Book of Adventure “But it is hard on my father, Archie, that he should have to pay for another boat.” However, as it turned out, the new boat was paid for in quite an unexpected way. For when the sheriff of Stornoway had learned all this story, and when he had communicated with the young lady's friends in Brittany, there was, of course, a great commotion; and the two lads had to go over to Stornoway to give evi- dence there before some gentlemen sent all the way over from France for the purpose. Then the young lady left with these gentlemen (though it seemed as if she would never cease express- ing to the two lads, through the sheriff, her gratitude to them), and no one expected to hear any more of the thing, except the sheriff, who knew better. One day Colin M'Calmont and Archie Livingston, with their respective fathers, were summoned to go over to Stornoway, to the sheriff's office; and they went. “I have got the reward now, for you two boys," said he. “What reward ? ” they both said at once. “ The reward that was offered in the French papers for information aboùt that young lady when she was found to be missing.” He showed them an oblong piece of paper. “ It is five thousand francs; do you know how much that is ?” “I do not,” said Colin ; and the schoolmaster's son looked doubtful. “I suppose you can divide by twenty-five, surely ?” said he, good-naturedly. Over NOV An Adventure in Thule 65 “ That would come to two hundred pounds,” said the younger lad. “ Very well, then. That piece of paper is worth two hundred pounds; and that is one hundred pounds for each of you. If I were you, I would put it in the savings-bank; and when you grow up, it would be a fine thing for you." “I will not do that, sir,” said Colin M'Calmont. 6 What then?” “I will buy a boat for my father as good as the one that was sunk — ay, and better, too. And if there is anything over, that is what I will put into the savings- bank.” “ But wait a minute, my lad. This five thousand francs is the reward offered by Mademoiselle Desclin's guardians — for she has neither father nor mother; but she wishes to add something to show that she does not forget your kindness to her. She wishes to be allowed to give you a boat, sails and all complete, similar to the one that was sunk; only it is to be your own. But that will do for your father as well as for yourself.” “ Surely, surely,” said Dunvorgan. “Let the lad have the whole of the hundred pounds put in the bank in his own name. It will be a good thing for him when he will take a farm for himself.” “And you, Archie Livingston ; I am to buy you a silver watch. And if I were you I would sit down and write the young lady a letter in very good English. And there is another thing, Colin, my lad ; she wants you to have the boat called the Félicité — for that is her own name; and you can have no objection to that.” “Surely no, sir; and will I write her a letter, too?”. 66 The Book of Adventure “ You could not do better. And so that is all settled. But wait a minute, my lads; I think the next time you go out to frighten the Frenchmen from stealing the sheep at Farriskeir, you'd better leave the pistol ashore; you might get into trouble. And perhaps if the Government were to send the Jackal round that way once or twice about this time of the year, that would give them a greater fright than any horse-pistol.” So that was the end of the adventure; and if you should happen on the west coast of Lewis to run against a smart little cutter called the Félicité, and should wonder at the name, they will tell you the story there about the two boys who went to frighten the French fishermen away from Farriskeir and Rua-veg. DON QUIXOTE DON QUIXOTE ere DON QUIXOTE of La Mancha was a poor, kind- hearted Spanish gentleman, whose mind had been turned by constantly reading the extravagant stories of war and chivalry once so popular the world over. Day and night he dreamed of nothing else but knights and tournaments, giants and dragons, and fair ladies in dis- tress. At last he could bear it no longer. He re- solved, like the heroes of his favorite tales, to become a knight-errant, and ride forth to right the wrongs of this wicked world and win everlasting fame and honor. As every knight should have a fair Lady for whose sake his great deeds were undertaken, Don Quixote chose to consider a rosy farm-girl from the village of El Toboso as the Lady of his Thoughts, — though never a thought had she given him. The mad gentleman named her Dulcinea del Toboso, fancying her to be a grand and beautiful dame. He dressed himself in a suit of rusty armor once worn by his great-grandfather, put on a ridiculous pasteboard helmet, and took a lance and a shield. His gallant charger was a lean old nag named Rozinante. For his squire Don Quixote chose Sancho Panza, a shrewd and merry farm-hand, who was ready to follow wherever he led. When Sancho was mounted on the ass, the crazy pair presented a most amazing and ridiculous appearance. Don Quixote was wholly unconscious of this, but looked upon his equipment with great complacency. Cervantes thus relates one of his most renowned adventures. THE FIRST SALLY THAT DON QUIXOTE MADE AND HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE WINDMILLS (FROM THE ADVENTURES OF Don QuixotE DE LA MANCHA.) BY MIGUEL DE CERVANTES. S soon as these arrangements were made, he no longer deferred the execution of his project, which he hastened from a consideration of what the world suffered by his delay : so many were the grievances he intended to redress, the wrongs to rec- tify, errors to amend, abuses to reform, and debts to discharge! Therefore, without communicating his intentions to anybody, and wholly unob- served, one morning before day, being one of the most sultry in the month of July, he armed himself cap-à-pie, mounted Rozinante, placed the helmet on his head, braced on his target, took his lance, and, through the private gate of his back yard, issued forth into the open plain, in a transport of joy to think he had met with no obstacles to the commencement of his honorable enterprise. But scarce had he found himself 68 The Book of Adventure ) W on the plain, when he was assailed by a recollection so terrible as almost to make him abandon the undertak- ing: for it just then occurred to him that he was not yet dubbed a knight; therefore, in conformity to the laws of chivalry, he neither could nor ought to enter the lists against any of that order; and, if he had been actually dubbed, he should, as a new knight, have worn white armor, without any device on his shield, until he had gained one by force of arms. These considerations made him irresolute whether to proceed; but frenzy prevailing over reason, he deter- mined to get himself made a knight by the first one he should meet, like many others of whom he had read. As to white armor, he resolved, when he had an oppor- tunity, to scour his own, so that it should be whiter than ermine. Having now composed his mind, he pro- ceeded, taking whatever road his horse pleased; for therein, he believed, consisted the true spirit of adven- ture. Our new adventurer, thus pursuing his way, con- versed within himself, saying, “ Who doubts but that in future times, when the true history of my famous achievements is brought to light, the sage who records them will in this manner describe my first sally: ‘Scarcely had ruddy Phoebus extended over the face of this wide and spacious earth the golden filaments of his beautiful hair, and scarcely had the little painted birds, with their forked tongues, hailed, in soft and mellifluous harmony, the approach of the rosy harbinger of morn, who, leaving the soft couch of her jealous consort, had just disclosed herself to mortals through the gates and balconies of the Manchegan horizon, when the re- IS The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 69 ev nowned knight, Don Quixote de la Mancha, quitting the slothful down, mounted Rozinante, his famous steed, proceeded over the ancient memorable plain of Montiel' (which was indeed the truth). O happy era, happy age!” he continued, “ when my glorious deeds shall be revealed to the world! deeds worthy of being engraven on brass, sculptured in marble, and recorded by the pencil! And thou, O sage enchanter, whoso- ever thou mayest be, destined to chronicle this extraordinary history! forget not, I beseech thee, my good Rozinante, the inseparable companion of all my toils !” Then again, as if really enamored, he exclaimed, “ O Dulcinea, my princess ! sovereign of this captive heart! greatly do you wrong me by a cruel adherence to your de- cree, forbidding me to appear in the presence of your beauty! Deign, O lady, to think on this enslaved heart, which for love of you endures so many pangs ! ” In this wild strain he continued, imitating the style of his books as nearly as he could, and proceeding slowly on, while the sun arose with such intense heat that it was enough to dissolve his brains, if any had been left. He travelled almost the whole of that day without encountering anything worthy of recital, which caused him much vexation, for he was impatient for an opportunity to prove the valor of his powerful arm. The Book of Adventure Some authors say his first adventure was that of the Pass of Lapice; others affirm it to have been that of the windmills; but, from what I have been able to ascertain of this matter, and have found written in the annals of La Mancha, the fact is that he travelled all that day, and as night approached, both he and his horse were wearied and dying with hunger; and in this state, as he looked around him, in hopes of dis- covering some castle, or shepherd's cot, where he might repose and find refreshment, he descried, not far from the road, an inn, which to him was a star conducting him to the portals, if not the palace, of his redemption. He made all the haste he could, and reached it at nightfall. There chanced to stand at the door two young women on their journey to Seville, in the com- pany of some carriers who rested there that night. Now, as everything that our adventurer saw and con- ceived was, by his imagination, moulded to what he had read, so in his eyes the inn appeared to be a castle, with its four turrets, and pinnacles of shining silver, together with its drawbridge, deep moat, and all the appurtenances with which such castles are usually de- scribed. When he had advanced within a short dis- tance of it, he checked Rozinante, expecting some dwarf would mount the battlements, to announce by sound of trumpet the arrival of a knight-errant at the castle ; but finding them tardy, and Rozinante impatient for the stable, he approached the inn-door, and there saw the two girls, who to him appeared to be beautiful damsels or lovely dames, enjoying themselves before the gate of their castle. It happened that, just at this time, a swineherd col- The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 71 ean lecting his beasts . . . from an adjoining stubblefield, blew the horn which assembles them together, and instantly Don Quixote was satisfied, for he imagined it was a dwarf who had given the signal of his arrival. With extraordinary satisfaction, therefore, he went up to the inn; upon which the ladies, being startled at the sight of a man armed in that manner, with lance and buckler, were retreating into the house; but Don Quixote, perceiving their alarm, raised his pasteboard visor, thereby partly discovering his meagre, dusty visage, and, with gentle demeanor and placid voice, thus addressed them : “Fly not, ladies, nor fear any discourtesy, for it would be wholly inconsistent with the order of knighthood, which I profess, to offer insult to any person, much less to virgins of that exalted rank which your appearance indicates.” The girls stared at him, and were endeavoring to find out his face, which was almost concealed by the sorry visor; but hearing themselves addressed thus, they could not forbear laughing, and to such a degree, that Don Quixote was displeased, and said to them: “Modesty well becomes beauty, but excessive laughter, proceeding from a slight cause, is folly: but I say not this to humble or distress you, for my part is no other than to do you service.” This language, so unintelligible to the ladies, added to the uncouth figure of our knight, increased their laughter; consequently he became more indignant, and would have proceeded further, but for the timely ap- pearance of the inn-keeper, a very corpulent, and there- fore a very pacific man, who, upon seeing so ludicrous an object, armed, and with accoutrements so ill-sorted DUS 72 The Book of Adventure as were the bridle, lance, buckler, and corslet, felt dis- posed to join the damsels in demonstrations of mirth; but, in truth, apprehending some danger from a form thus strongly fortified, he resolved to behave with civility, and therefore said, “If, Sir Knight, you are seeking for a lodging, you will here find, excepting a bed (for there are none in this inn), everything in abundance." Don Quixote, perceiving the humility of the governor of the fortress, for such to him appeared the inn-keeper, answered, “For me, Signor Castellano, anything will suffice, since arms are my ornaments, warfare my repose.” The host thought he called him Castellano because he took him for a sound Castilian, whereas he was an Andalusian, of the coast of St. Lucar, as great a thief as Cacus, and not less mischievous than a collegian or a page; and he replied, “If so, your worship's beds must be hard rocks, and your sleep continual watching; and that being the case, you may dismount with a certainty of finding here sufficient cause for keeping awake the whole year, much more a single night.” So saying, he laid hold of Don Quixote's stirrup, who alighted with much difficulty and pain, for he had fasted the whole of the day. He then desired the host to take especial care of his steed, for it was the finest creature that ever fed: the inn-keeper examined him, but thought him not so good by half as his master had represented him. Having led the horse to the stable, he returned to receive the orders of his guest, whom the damsels, being now reconciled to him, were disarm- ing: they had taken off the back and breast plates, but The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 73 SONS endeavored in vain to disengage the gorget, or take off the counterfeit beaver, which he had fastened with green ribbons in such a manner that they could not be untied, and he would upon no account allow them to be cut; therefore he remained all that night with his helmet on, the strangest and most ridiculous figure im- aginable. While these frivolous girls, whom he still conceived to be persons of quality and ladies of the castle, were disarming him, he said to them, with infinite grace, “ Never before was knight so honored by ladies as Don Quixote, after his departure from his native village ! Damsels attended upon him ; princesses took charge of his steed! O Rozinante — for that, ladies, is the name of my horse, and Don Quixote de la Mancha my own; although it was not my intention to have discovered myself, until deeds, performed in your service, should have proclaimed me; but impelled to make so just an application of that ancient romance of Lanzarote to my present situation, I have thus prematurely disclosed my name: yet the time shall come when your ladyships may command, and I obey; when the valor of my arm shall make manifest the desire I have to serve you.” The girls, unaccustomed to such rhetorical flourishes, made no reply, but asked whether he would please to eat anything. “I shall willingly take some food,” answered Don Quixote, “ for I apprehend it would be of much service to me.” That day happened to be Friday, and there was noth- ing in the house but some fish, of that kind which in Castile is called abadexo; in Andalusia, bacallao; in some parts, curadillo; and in others, truchuela. 74 The Book of Adventure They asked if his worship would like some truchuela, for they had no other fish to offer him. “If there be many troutlings,” replied Don Quixote, “they will supply the place of one trout; for it is the same to me whether I receive eight single reals or one piece-of- eight. Moreover, these troutlings may be preferable, as veal is better than beef, and kid superior to goat. Be that as it may, let it come immediately, for the toil and weight of arms cannot be sustained by the body unless the interior be supplied with aliments.” For the benefit of the cool air, they placed the table at the door of the inn, and the landlord produced some of his ill- soaked and worse-cooked bacallao, with bread as foul and black as the knight's armor: but it was a spec- tacle highly risible to see him eat; for his hands being engaged in holding his helmet on and raising the beaver, he could not feed himself, therefore one of the ladies performed that office for him ; but to drink would have been utterly impossible, had not the inn- keeper bored a reed, and, placing one end into his mouth, at the other poured in the wine; and all this he patiently endured rather than cut the lacings of his helmet. In the meantime there came to the inn a pig-doctor, who as soon as he arrived, blew his pipe of reeds four or five times, which finally convinced Don Quixote that he was now in some famous castle, where he was regaled with music; that the poor John was trout, the bread of the purest white, the strolling wenches ladies of distinc- tion, and the inn-keeper governor of the castle; conse- quently he remained satisfied with his enterprise and first sally, though it troubled him to reflect that he was The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 75 not yet a knight, feeling persuaded that he could not lawfully engage in any adventure until he had been invested with the order of knighthood. Engaged in this discourse, they came in sight of thirty or forty windmills, which are in that plain; and as soon as Don Quixote espied them, he said to his squire, “ Fortune disposes our affairs better than we ourselves could have desired : look yonder, friend Sancho Panza, where thou mayest discover somewhat more than thirty monstrous giants, whom I intend to encounter and slay, and with their spoils we will begin to enrich ourselves; for it is lawful war, and doing God good service, to remove so wicked a generation from off the face of the earth.” 6 What giants ? ” said Sancho Panza. “ Those thou seest yonder," answered his master, “ with their long arms; for some are wont to have them almost of the length of two leagues.” “ Look, sir,” answered Sancho, “ those which appear yonder are not giants, but windmills, and what seems to be arms are the sails, which, whirled about by the wind, make the mill-stone go.” “ It is very evident," answered Don Quixote, “ that thou art not versed in the business of adventures. They are giants; and if thou art afraid, get thee aside and pray, whilst I engage with them in fierce and unequal combat.” So saying, he clapped spurs to his steed, notwithstand- ing the cries his squire sent after him, assuring him that they were certainly windmills and not giants. But he was so fully possessed that they were giants, 76 . The Book of Adventure COV More arm that he neither heard the outeries of his squire Sancho, nor yet discerned what they were, though he was very near them, but went on crying out aloud, “ Fly not, ye cowards and vile caitiffs ! for it is a single knight who assaults you.” The wind now rising a little, the great sails began to move; upon which Don Quixote called out, “ Although ye should have more arms than the giant Briareus, ye shall pay for it.” Then recommending himself devoutly to his lady Dulcinea, beseeching her to succor him in the present danger, being well covered with his buckler and setting his lance in the rest, he rushed on as fast as Rozinante could gallop, and attacked the first mill before him ; when, running his lance into the sail, the wind whirled it about with so much violence that it broke the lance to shivers, dragging horse and rider after it, and tum- bling them over and over on the plain in very evil plight. Sancho Panza hastened to his assistance as fast as the ass could carry him; and when he came up to his master he found him unable to stir, so violent was the blow which he and Rozinante had received in their fall. “God save me,” quoth Sancho, “ did not I warn you to have a care of what you did, for that they were nothing but windmills ? And nobody could mistake them but one that had the like in his head.” “ Peace, friend Sancho,” answered Don Quixote; “for matters of war are, of all others, most subject to con- tinual change. Now I verily believe, and it is most certainly the fact, that the sage Freston, who stole re Don Quixote's ADVENTURE WITH THE WIND-Mills. The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 77 0 away my chamber and books, has metamorphosed these giants into windmills, on purpose to deprive me of the glory of vanquishing them, so great is the enmity he bears me! But his wicked arts will finally avail but little against the goodness of my sword.” “God grant it!” answered Sancho Panza; then helping him to rise, he mounted him again upon his steed, which was almost disjointed. Conversing upon the late adventure, they followed the road that led to the Pass of Lapice; because there, Don Quixote said, they could not fail to meet with many and various adventures, as it was much fre- quented. He was, however, concerned at the loss of his lance; and, speaking of it to his squire, he said, “I remember to have read that a certain Spanish knight, called Diego Perez de Vargas, having broken his sword in fight, tore off a huge branch or limb from an oak, and performed such wonders with it that day, and dashed out the brains of so many Moors, that he was surnamed Machuca ;l and from that day forward he and his descendants bore the names of Vargas and Machuca. I now speak of this because from the first oak we meet I mean to tear a limb at least as good as that, with which I purpose and resolve to perform such feats that thou shalt deem thyself most fortunate in having been thought worthy to behold them, and to be an eye-witness of things which will scarcely be credited.” “Heaven's will be done !” quoth Sancho; “I believe all just as you say, sir. But pray set yourself more upright in your saddle, for you seem to me to ride side- 1 From machucar, to bruise or break. The Book of Adventure U . long, owing, perhaps, to the bruises received by your fall.” “It is certainly so,” said Don Quixote; “and if I do not complain of pain, it is because knights-errant are not allowed to complain of any wound whatever, even though their entrails should issue from it.” “If so, I have nothing more to say,” quoth Sancho, “ but I should be glad to hear your worship complain when anything ails you. As for myself, I must com- plain of the least pain I feel, unless this business of not complaining extend also to the squires of knights- errant.” Don Quixote could not forbear smiling at the simpli- city of his squire, and told him he might complain whenever and as much as he pleased, either with or without cause, having never yet read anything to the contrary in the laws of chivalry. Sancho put him in mind that it was time to dine. His master answered that at present he had no need of food, but that he might eat whenever he thought proper. With this license, Sancho adjusted himself as well as he could upon his beast; and, taking out the contents of his wallet, he jogged on behind his master very lei- surely, eating, and ever and anon raising the bottle to his mouth with so much relish, that the best-fed victu- aller of Malaga might have envied him. And whilst he went on in this manner repeating his draughts, he thought no more of the promises his mas- ter had made him; nor did he think it any toil, but rather a recreation, to go in quest of adventures, how- ever perilous they might be. In fine, they passed that night under the shelter of some trees; and from one of The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 79 them the knight tore a withered branch, to serve him in some sort as a lance, after fixing upon it the iron head of the one that had been broken. All that night Don Quixote slept not, but ruminated on his lady Dulcinea, conformably to the practice of knights-errant, who, as their histories told him, were wont to pass many successive nights in woods and deserts, without closing their eyes, indulging the sweet remembrance of their mistress. Not so did Sancho spend the night; for, his stomach being full, and not of succory water, he made but one sleep of it; and, had not his master roused him, neither the beams of the sun that darted full in his face, nor the melody of the birds, which in great numbers cheer- fully saluted the approach of the new day, could have awakened him. At his uprising he applied again to his bottle, and found it much lighter than the evening before; which grieved him to the heart, for he did not think they were in the way soon to remedy that defect. Don Quixote would not yet break his fast, resolving, as we have said, still to subsist upon savory remembrances. They now turned again into the road they had entered upon the day before, leading to the Pass of Lapice, which they discovered about three in the after- noon. “Here, friend Sancho,” said Don Quixote, upon see- ing it, “ we may plunge our arms up to the elbows in what are termed adventures. But attend to this cau- tion, that, even shouldst thou see me in the greatest peril in the world, thou must not lay hand to thy sword to defend me, unless thou perceivest that my assailants are vulgar and low people: in that case thou mayest 80 The Book of Adventure assist me; but should they be knights, it is in nowise agreeable to the laws of chivalry that thou shouldst interfere, until thou art thyself dubbed a knight.” “ Your worship,” answered Sancho, “shall be obeyed most punctually therein, and the rather as I am natur- ally very peaceable, and an enemy to thrusting myself into brawls and squabbles; but for all that, as to what regards the defence of my own person, I shall make no great account of those same laws, since both divine and human law allows every man to defend himself against whoever would wrong him.” “ That I grant," answered Don Quixote; “ but with respect to giving me aid against knights, thou must refrain, and keep within bounds thy natural impetu- osity.” acco “I say, I will do so,” answered Sancho; “ and I will observe this precept as religiously as the Lord's day.” As they were thus discoursing, there appeared on the road two monks of the order of St. Benedict, apparently mounted upon dromedaries; for the mules whereon they rode were not much less. They wore travelling masks, and carried umbrellas. Behind them came a coach, accompanied by four or five men on horseback and two muleteers on foot. Within the coach, as it afterwards appeared, was a Biscayan lady on her way to join her husband at Seville, who was there waiting to embark for India, where he was appointed to a very honorable post. The monks were not in her company, but were only travelling the same road. Scarcely had Don Quixote espied them, when he said to his squire, “ Either I am deceived, or this will prove the most famous adventure that ever happened; for ve The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 81 those black figures that appear yonder must undoubtedly be enchanters, who are carrying off in that coach some princess whom they have stolen, which wrong I am bound to use my utmost endeavors to redress.” “ This may prove a worse business than the wind- mills,” said Sancho; “pray, sir, take notice that those are Benedictine monks, and the coach must belong to some travellers. Hearken to my advice, sir; have a care what you do, and let not the devil deceive you.” “I have already told thee, Sancho,” answered Don Quixote, “that thou knowest little concerning ad- ventures : what I say is true, as thou wilt presently see.” So saying, he advanced forward, and planted himself in the midst of the highway by which the monks were to pass; and when they were so near that he supposed they could hear what he said, he cried out with a loud voice, “ Diabolical and monstrous race! either instantly release the high-bom princesses whom ye are carrying away perforce in that coach, or prepare for instant death, as the just chastisement of your wicked deeds." The monks stopped their mules, and stood amazed, as much at the figure of Don Quixote as at his expres- sions : to which they answered, “ Signor cavalier, we are neither diabolical nor monstrous, but monks of the Benedictine order, travelling on our own business, and entirely ignorant whether any princesses are carried away in that coach by force or not.” “No fair speeches to me, for I know ye, treacherous scoundrels!” and without waiting for a reply, he clapped spurs to Rozinante, and, with his lance couched, ran at the foremost monk with such fury and resolution that, if he had not slid down from his mule, he would cer- IS race 82 The Book of Adventure tainly have been thrown to the ground, and wounded too, if not killed outright. The second monk, on ob- serving how his comrade was treated, clapped spurs to the sides of his good mule, and began to scour along the plain lighter than the wind itself. Sancho Panza, seeing the monk on the ground, leaped nimbly from his ass, and, running up to him, began to disrobe him. While he was thus employed, the two lackeys came up, and asked him why he was stripping their master. Sancho told them that they were his lawful perqui- sites, being the spoils of the battle which his lord Don Quixote had just won. The lackeys, who did not under- stand the jest, nor what was meant by spoils or battles, seeing that Don Quixote was at a distance speaking with those in the coach, fell upon Sancho, threw him down, and, besides leaving him not a hair in his beard, gave him a hearty kicking, and left him stretched on the ground, deprived of sense and motion. Without losing a moment, the monk now got upon his mule again, trembling, terrified, and as pale as death, and was no sooner mounted than he spurred after his com- panion, who stood at some distance to observe the issue of this strange encounter; but, being unable to wait, they pursued their way, crossing themselves oftener than if the devil had been at their heels. In the meantime Don Quixote, as it hath been already mentioned, addressing the lady in the coach, “ Your beauteous ladyship may now,” said he, “dis- pose of your person as pleaseth you best, for the pride of your ravishers lies humbled in the dust, overthrown by my invincible arm : and that you may be at no was pone Om- The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 83 trouble to learn the name of your deliverer, know that I am called Don Quixote de la Mancha, knight-errant and adventurer, and captive to the peerless and beau- teous Dulcinea del Toboso; and in requital of the benefit you have received at my hands, all I desire is, that you would return to Toboso, and in my name present yourselves before that lady, and tell her what I have done to obtain your liberty.” All that Don Quixote said was overheard by a certain squire who accompanied the coach, a Biscayan, who, finding he would not let it proceed, but talked of their immediately returning to Toboso, flew at Don Quixote, and, taking hold of his lance, addressed him, in bad Castilian and worse Biscayan, after this manner: “ Cavalier, begone, and the devil go with thee! I swear by the Power that made me, if thou dost not quit the coach, thou forfeitest thy life, as I am a Biscayan.” Don Quixote understood him very well, and with great calmness answered, “If thou wert a gentleman, as thou art not, I would before now have chastised thy folly and presumption, thou pitiful slave.” “I am no gentleman !” said the Biscayan; “I swear thou liest, as I am a Christian. If thou wilt throw away thy lance, and draw thy sword, thou shalt see how soon the cat will get into the water. Biscayan by land, gentleman by sea, thou liest! Now what hast thou to say ?” 1 6 To carry the cat to the water" is a saying applied to one who is victorious in any contest, and it is taken from a game in which two cats are tied together by the tail, then carried near a pit or well (having the water between them), and the cat which first pulls the other in is declared conqueror. 84 The Book of Adventure OT n “Thou shalt see that presently, as said Agrages," answered Don Quixote; then, throwing down his lance, he drew his sword, grasped his buckler, and set upon the Biscayan with a resolution to take his life. The Biscayan, seeing him come on in that manner, would fain have alighted, knowing that his mule, a wretched hack, was not to be trusted; but he had only time to draw his sword. Fortunately for him, he was so near the coach as to be able to snatch from it a cushion, that served him for a shield; whereupon they immediately fell to, as if they had been mortal enemies. The rest of the company would have made peace between them, but it was impossible ; for the Biscayan swore, in his jargon, that if they would not let him finish the combat, he would murder his mistress, or whoever attempted to prevent him. . The lady of the coach, amazed and affrighted at what she saw, ordered the coachman to remove a little out of the way, and sat at a distance beholding the fierce conflict; in the progress of which the Biscayan gave Don Quixote so mighty a stroke on one of his shoulders, and above his buckler, that, had it not been for his armor, he had cleft him down to the girdle. Don Quixote, feeling the weight of that unmeasur- able blow, cried out aloud, saying, “O lady of my soul! Dulcinea, flower of all beauty! succor this thy knight, who, to satisfy thy great goodness, exposes himself to this perilous extremity!” This invocation, the drawing his sword, the covering himself well with his buckler, and rushing with fury on the Biscayan, was the work of an instant — resolv- ma The First Sally that Don Quixote Made 85 ing to venture all on the fortune of a single blow. The Biscayan perceiving his intention, resolved to do the same, and therefore waited for him, covering him- self well with his cushion ; but he was unable to turn his mule either to the right or left, for, being already jaded, and unaccustomed to such sport, the creature would not move a step. Don Quixote, as we before said, now advanced towards the wary Bis- cayan, with his uplifted sword, fully determined to cleave him asunder; and the Biscayan awaited him 2015 with his sword also raised; and guarded by his cushion. All the by- standers were in fearful suspense as á to the event of those prodigious blows with which they threatened each other; and the lady of the coach and her attendants were making a thousand vows and promises of offerings to all the images and places of devotion in Spain, that God might deliver them and their squire from this great peril. But the misfortune is, that the author of this history, at that very crisis, leaves the combat unfinished, plead- ing, in excuse, that he could find no more written of the exploits of Don Quixote, than what he has already related. It is true, indeed, that the second undertaker of this work could not believe that so curious a history should have been consigned to oblivion, or that the wits of La Mancha should have so little curiosity as 86 The Book of Adventure not to preserve in their archives, or cabinets, some memorials of this famous knight; and, under that per- suasion, he did not despair of finding the conclusion of this delectable history, Per NO THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS DURING the French and Indian wars there was per- haps no episode more cruel than the treacherous massa- cre at Fort William Henry, after the surrender of that English outpost to General Montcalm and his Indian allies. As the English were marching away from the Fort, the Indians fell upon them, slaughtering many and taking others as prisoners. Among the latter, ac- cording to Cooper's tale, were the beautiful sisters, Cora and Alice Munro, and David Gamut, a tall and raw- boned singing-teacher, who was always chanting psalms at critical moments. These three fell into the hands of Magua, a ferocious chief of the Hurons, called on account of his cunning, “Renard le Subtil.” Magua and his band hurried the captives away, and for some days managed to elude pursuit. But a formidable party were upon his trail; Colonel Munro, frantic from the loss of his daughters ; brave young Major Duncan Hey- ward, who was betrothed to the fair Alice; Hawkeye, the renowned scout whose marksmanship with his famous rifle “Kildeer” was the wonder of the Six Nations; and last, but not least, Chingachgook and his son the young Uncas, “the last of the Mohicans.” Both of these braves were devoted to the English, hating the Hurons as fiercely as did the pale-faces themselves ; and Uncas would have gladly given his life to rescue Cora, the dark-haired and more courageous of the two sisters. The party had been travelling for some days, following certain clues which told them they were on the right track. The story “On the Trail” begins here. ON THE TRAIL (FROM THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS.) By J. FENIMORE COOPER. “ If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death." Merry Wives of Windsor. Merm HE party had landed on the border of a region that is, even to this day, less known to the inhabitants of the States, than the deserts of Arabia, or the steppes of Tartary. It was the sterile and rugged district which separates the tribu- hataries of Champlain from those of the Hud- son, the Mohawk, and the St. Lawrence. Since the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settle- ments, though none but the hunter or the savage is ever known, even now, to penetrate its wild recesses. As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilder- ness, they did not hesitate to plunge into its depths, with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations and difficulties. For many hours the travellers toiled on their laborious way, guided by a star, or following the direction of some watercourse, until the scout called 87 88 The Book of Adventure a halt, and holding a short consultation with the Indians, they lighted their fire, and made the usual preparations to pass the remainder of the night where they then were. Imitating the example, and emulating the confidence, of their more experienced associates, Munro and Dun- can slept without fear, if not without uneasiness. The dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun dispersed the mists, and was shedding a strong and clear light in the forest, when the travellers resumed their journey. After proceeding a few miles, the progress of Hawk- eye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees ; nor did he cross a rivulet, without atten- tively considering the quantity, the velocity, and the color of its waters. Distrusting his own judgment his appeals to the opinion of Chingachgook were fre quent and earnest. During one of these conferences, Heyward observed that Un- cas stood a patient and silent, though, as he imagined, an interested listener. He was strongly tempted to address the many young chief, and demand his opinion of their progress; but the calm and digni- fied demeanor of the native induced him to believe that, like himself, the other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelligence of the seniors of the party. At last, the scout spoke in English, and at once explained the embarrassment of their situation. " When I found that the home path of the Hurons WWE 3 1.12 On the Trail 89 run north,” he said, “it did not need the judgment of many long years to tell that they would follow the valleys, and keep atween the waters of the Hudson and the Horican, until they might strike the springs of the Canada streams, which would lead them into the heart of the country of the Frenchers. Yet here are we, within a short range of the Scaroon, and not a sign of a trail have we crossed! Human natur' is weak, and it is possible we may not have taken the proper scent.” “ Heaven protect us from such an error!” exclaimed Duncan. “ Let us retrace our steps, and examine as we go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in such a strait ?” The young Mohican cast a glance at his father, but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he continued silent. Chingachgook had caught the look, and motion- ing with his hand, he bade him speak. The moment this permission was accorded, the countenance of Uncas changed from its grave composure to a gleam of intelligence and joy. Bounding forward like a de he sprang up the side of a little acclivity, a few rods in advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh earth that looked as though it had been recently upturned by the passage of some heavy animal. The eyes of the whole party followed the unexpected move- ment, and read their success in the air of triumph that the youth assumed. «Tis the trail !” exclaimed the scout, advancing to the spot : "the lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for his years.” “'Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his knowledge so long,” said Duncan, at his elbow. 90 The Book of Adventure “ It would have been more wonderful had he spoken without a bidding. No, no; your young white, who gathers his learning from books and can measure what he knows by the page, may conceit that his knowledge, like his legs, outruns that of his father; but where experience is the master, the scholar is made to know the value of years, and respects them accordingly.” “See !” said Uncas, pointing north and south, at the evident marks of the broad trail on either side of him : “ the dark-hair has gone towards the frost.” “Hound never ran on a more beautiful scent," responded the scout, dashing forward, at once, on the indicated route; “ we are favored, greatly favored, and can follow with high noses. Ay, here are both your waddling beasts : this Huron travels like a white gen- eral. The fellow is stricken with a judgment, and is mad! Look sharp for wheels, Sagamore,” he contin- ued, looking back, and laughing in his newly awakened satisfaction ; “we shall soon have the fool journeying in a coach, and that with three of the best pair of eyes on the borders, in his rear.” The spirits of the scout, and the astonishing success of the chase, in which a circuitous distance of more than forty miles had been passed, did not fail to impart a portion of hope to the whole party. Their advance was rapid; and made with as much confidence as a traveller would proceed along a wide highway. If a rock, or a rivulet, or a bit of earth harder than com- mon, severed the links of the clue they followed, the true eye of the scout recovered them at a distance, and seldom rendered the delay of a single moment necessary. Their progress was much facilitated by the certainty SS was On the Trail 91 that Magua had found it necessary to journey through the valleys; a circumstance which rendered the general direction of the route sure. Nor had the Huron entirely neglected the arts, uniformly practised by the natives when retiring in front of an enemy. False trails, and sudden turnings, were frequent, wherever a brook, or the formation of the ground, rendered them feasible; but his pursuers were rarely deceived, and never failed to detect their error, before they had lost either time or distance on the deceptive track. By the middle of the afternoon they had passed the Scaroon, and were following the route of the declining sun. After descending an eminence to a low bottom, through which a stream glided, they suddenly came to a place where the party of Le Renard had made a halt. Extinguished brands were lying around a spring, the offals of a deer were scattered about the place, and the trees bore evident marks of having been browsed by the horses. At a little distance, Heyward discovered, and contemplated with tender emotion, the small bower under which he was fain to believe that Cora and Alice had reposed. But while the earth was trodden, and the footsteps of both men and beasts were so plainly visible around the place, the trail appeared to have suddenly ended. It was easy to follow the track of the Narragansetts, but they seemed only to have wandered without guides, or any other object than the pursuit of food. At length Uncas, who, with his father, had endeavored to trace the route of the horses, came upon a sign of their presence that was quite recent. Before following the clue, he communicated his success to his companions; 92 The Book of Adventure re and while the latter were consulting on the circum- stance, the youth reappeared, leading the two fillies, with their saddles broken, and the housings soiled, as though they had been permitted to run at will for several days. “What should this mean?” said Duncan, turning pale, and glancing his eyes around him, as if he feared the brush and leaves were about to give up some horrid secret. “That our march is to come to a quick end, and that we are in an enemy's country,” returned the scout. “Had the knaves been pressed, and the gentle ones wanted horses to keep up with the party, he might have taken their scalps; but without an enemy at his heels, and with such rugged beasts as these, he would not hurt a hair of their heads. I know your thoughts, and shame be it to our color that you have reason for them; but he who thinks that even a Mingo would ill-treat a woman, unless it be to tomahawk her, knows nothing of an Indian natur', or the laws of the woods. No, no; I have heard that the French Indians had come into these hills, to hunt the moose, and we are getting within scent of their camp. Why should they not ? the morning and evening guns of Ty may be heard any day among these mountains; for the Frenchers are running a new line atween the provinces of the king and the Canadas. It is true that the horses are here, but the Hurons are gone; let us then hunt for the path by which they departed.” Hawkeye and the Mohicans now applied themselves to their task in good earnest. A circle of a few hun- dred feet in circumference was drawn, and each of the On the Trail 93 party took a segment for his portion. The examina- tion, however, resulted in no discovery. The impres- sions of footsteps were numerous, but they all appeared like those of men who had wandered about the spot, without any design to quit it. Again the scout and his companions made the circuit of the halting-place, each slowly following the other, until they assembled in the centre once more, no wiser than when they started. “Such cunning is not without its deviltry,” ex- claimed Hawkeye, when he met the disappointed looks of his assistants. “We must get down to it, Sagamore, beginning at the spring, and going over the ground by inches. The Huron shall never brag in his tribe that he has a foot which leaves no print.” Setting the example himself, the scout engaged in the scrutiny with renewed zeal. Not a leaf was left unturned. The sticks were removed, and the stones lifted; for Indian cunning was known frequently to adopt these objects as covers, laboring with the ut- most patience and industry, to conceal each footstep, as they proceeded. Still no discovery was made. At length Uncas, whose activity had enabled him to achieve his portion of the task the soonest, raked the earth across the turbid little rill which ran from the spring, and diverted its course into another channel. So soon as its narrow bed below the dam was dry, he stooped over it with keen and curious eyes. A cry of exultation immediately announced the success of the young warrior. The whole party crowded to the spot where Uncas pointed out the impression of a moccasin in the moist alluvium. 94 The Book of Adventure “ The lad will be an honor to his people,” said Hawk- eye, regarding the trail with as much admiration as a . naturalist would expend on the tusk of a mammoth or the rib of a mastodon ; “ay, and a thorn in the sides of the Hurons. Yet that is not the footstep of an In- dian! the weight is too much on the heel, and the toes are squared, as though one of the French dancers had been in, pigeon-winging his tribe! Run back, Uncas, and bring me the size of the singer's foot. You will find a beautiful print of it just opposite yon rock, agin the hillside.” While the youth was engaged in this commission, the scout and Chingachgook were attentively considering the impressions. The measurements agreed, and the former unhesitatingly pronounced that the footstep was that of David, who had, once more, been made to ex- change his shoes for moccasins. “I can now read the whole of it, as plainly as if I had seen the arts of Le Subtil,” he added; “ the singer, being a man whose gifts lay chiefly in his throat and feet, was made to go first, and the others have trod in his steps, imitating their formation.” “But,” cried Duncan, “I see no signs of —”. “ The gentle ones,” interrupted the scout ; " the var- let has found a way to carry them, until he supposed he had thrown any followers off the scent. My life on it, we see their pretty little feet again, before many rods go by.” The whole party now proceeded, following the course of the rill, keeping anxious eyes on the regular impres- sions. The water soon flowed into its bed again, but watching the ground on either side, the foresters pur- is. On the Trail 95 sued their way content with knowing that the trail lay beneath. More than half a mile was passed, before the rill rippled close around the base of an extensive and dry rock. Here they paused to make sure that the Hurons had not quitted the water. It was fortunate they did so. For the quick and active Uncas soon found the impression of a foot on a bunch of moss, where it would seem an Indian had in- advertently trodden. Pursuing the direction given by this discovery, he entered the neighboring thicket, and struck the trail, as fresh and obvious as it had been before they reached the spring. Another shout an- nounced the good fortune of the youth to his compan- ions, and at once terminated the search. “Ay, it has been planned with Indian judgment,” said the scout, when the party was assembled around the place; “and would have blinded white eyes." “Shall we proceed ?” demanded Heyward. “ Softly, softly: we know our path; but it is good to examine the formation of things. This is my school- ing, major; and if one neglects the book, there is little chance of learning from the open hand of Providence. All is plain but one thing, which is the manner that the knave contrived to get the gentle ones along the blind trail. Even a Huron would be too proud to let their tender feet touch the water." “ Will this assist in explaining the difficulty ?” said Heyward, pointing towards the fragments of a sort of handbarrow, that had been rudely constructed of boughs, and bound together with withes, and which now seemed carelessly cast aside as useless. “ 'Tis explained !” cried the delighted Hawkeye. 96 The Book of Adventure reas “If them varlets have passed a minute, they have spent hours in striving to fabricate a lying end to their trail! Well, I've known them to waste a day in the same manner, to as little purpose. Here we have three pair of moccasins, and two of little feet. It is amazing that any mortal beings can journey on limbs so small ! Pass me the thong of buckskin, Uncas, and let me take the length of this foot. By the Lord, it is no longer than a child's, and yet the maidens are tall and comely. That Providence is partial in its gifts, for its own wise reasons, the best and most contented of us must allow.” “ The tender limbs of my daughters are unequal to these hardships,” said Munro, looking at the light foot- steps of his children, with a parent's love: “we shall find their fainting forms in this desert.” “Of that there is little cause of fear,” returned the scout, slowly shaking his head; “this is a firm and straight, though a light step, and not over long. See, the heel has hardly touched the ground; and there the dark-hair has made a little jump, from root to root. No, no; my knowledge for it, neither of them was nigh fainting, hereaway. Now, the singer was beginning to be foot-sore and leg-weary, as is plain by his trail. There, you see, he slipped; here he has travelled wide, and tottered ; and there, again, it looks as though he journeyed on snow-shoes. Ay, ay, a man who uses his throat altogether, can hardly give his legs a proper training.” From such undeniable testimony did the practised woodsman arrive at the truth, with nearly as much cer- tainty and precision as if he had been a witness of all those events which his ingenuity so easily elucidated. On the Trail 97 Cheered by these assurances, and satisfied by a reason- ing that was so obvious, while it was so simple, the party resumed its course, after making a short halt, to take a hurried repast. When the meal was ended, the scout cast a glance upwards at the setting sun, and pushed forward with a rapidity which compelled Heyward and the still vigorous Munro to exert all their muscles to equal. Their route now lay along the bottom which has already been mentioned. As the Hurons had made no further efforts to conceal their footsteps, the prog- ress of the pursuers was no longer delayed by uncer- tainty. Before an hour had elapsed, however, the speed of Hawkeye sensibly abated, and his head, instead of maintaining its former direct and forward look, began to turn suspiciously from side to side, as if he were con- scious of approaching danger. He soon stopped again, and waited for the whole party to come up. “I scent the Hurons,” he said, speaking to the Mohi- cans ; “yonder is open sky, through the tree-tops, and we are getting too nigh their encampment. Sagamore, you will take the hillside, to the right; Uncas will bend along the brook to the left, while I will try the trail. If anything should happen, the call will be three croaks of a crow. I saw one of the birds fanning himself in the air, just beyond the dead oak — another sign that we are touching an encampment.” The Indians departed their several ways without reply, while Hawkeye cautiously proceeded with the two gentlemen. Heyward soon pressed to the side of their guide, eager to catch an early glimpse of those enemies he had pursued with so much toil and anxiety. 98 The Book of Adventure His companion told him to steal to the edge of the wood, which, as usual, was fringed with a thicket, and wait his coming, for he wished to examine certain sus- picious signs a little on one side. Duncan obeyed, and soon found himself in a situation to command a view which he found as extraordinary as it was novel. The trees of many acres had been felled, and the glow of a mild summer's evening had fallen on the clearing, in beautiful contrast to the gray light of the forest. A short distance from the place where Duncan stood, the stream had seemingly expanded into a little lake, covering most of the low land, from moun- tain to mountain. The water fell out of this wide basin, in a cataract so regular and gentle, that it appeared rather to be the work of human hands, than fashioned by nature. A hundred earthen dwellings stood on the margin of the lake, and even in its water, as though the latter had overflowed its usual banks. Their rounded roofs, admirably moulded for defence against the weather, denoted more of industry and foresight than the natives were wont to bestow on their regular habitations, much less on those they occu- pied for the temporary purposes of hunting and war. In short, the whole village or town, whichever it might be termed, possessed more of method and neatness of execution, than the white men had been accustomed to believe belonged, ordinarily, to the Indian habits. It appeared, however, to be deserted. At least, so thought Duncan for many minutes ; but, at length, he fancied he discovered several human forms advancing towards him on all fours, and apparently dragging in their train some heavy, and as he was quick to apprehend, some On the Trail 99 West formidable engine. Just then a few dark looking heads gleamed out of the dwellings, and the place seemed suddenly alive with beings, which, however, glided from cover to cover so swiftly, as to allow no oppor- tunity of examining their humors or pursuits. Alarmed at these suspicious and inexplicable movements, he was about to attempt the signal of the crows, when the rustling of leaves at hand drew his eyes in another direction. The young man started, and re- coiled a few paces instinctively, when he found himself within a hundred yards of a stranger Indian. Recovering his recollection on the instant, instead of sounding an alarm, which might prove fatal to himself, he remained stationary, an attentive observer of the other's motions. An instant of calm observation served to assure Duncan that he water was undiscovered. The native, like himself, seemed occupied in considering the low dwell- ings of the village, and the stolen movements of its inhabitants. It was impossible to discover the expres- sion of his features, through the grotesque mask of paint under which they were concealed; though Dun- can fancied it was rather melancholy than savage. His head was shaved, as usual, with the exception of the crown, from whose tuft three or four faded feathers from a hawk's wing were loosely dangling. A ragged calico mantle half-encircled his body, while his nether 100 The Book of Adventure wwie. IN DIue. ca garment was composed of an ordinary shirt, the sleeves of which were made to perform the office that is usually executed by a much more commodious arrange- ment. His legs were bare, and sadly cut and torn by briers. The feet were, however, covered with a pair of good deer-skin moccasins. Altogether, the appearance of the individual was forlorn and miserable. Duncan was still curiously observing the person of his neighbor, when the scout stole silently and cau- tiously to his side. “ You see we have reached their settlement or en- campment,” whispered the young man; “and here is one of the savages himself, in a very embarrassing posi- tion for our further movements.” Hawkeye started, and dropped his rifle, when di- rected by the finger of his companion, the stranger came under his view. Then lowering the dangerous muzzle, he stretched forward his long neck, as if to assist a scrutiny that was already intensely keen. “ The imp is not a Huron,” he said, “nor of any of the Canada tribes; and yet you see, by his clothes, the knave has been plundering the white. Ay, Montcalm has raked the woods for his inroad, and a whooping, murdering set of varlets has he gathered together. Can you see where he has put his rifle or his bow ?” “He appears to have no arms; nor does he seem to be viciously inclined. Unless he communicate the alarm to his fellows, who as you see are dodging about the water, we have but little to fear from him.” The scout turned to Heyward, and regarded him a moment with unconcealed amazement. Then opening wide his mouth, he indulged in unrestrained and heart- On the Trail 101 felt laughter, though in that silent and peculiar manner which danger had so long taught him to practise. Repeating the words, “ fellows who are dodging about the water!” he added, “ so much for schooling and passing a boybood in the settlements! The knave has long legs, though, and shall not be trusted. Do you keep him under your rifle while I creep in behind, through the bush, and take him alive. Fire on no account.” Heyward had already permitted his companion to bury part of his person in the thicket, when, stretching forth an arm, he arrested him, in order to ask, — “If I see you in danger, may I not risk a shot ?”. Hawkeye regarded him a moment, like one who knew not how to take the question ; then nodding his head, he answered, still laughing, though inaudibly, — “Fire a whole platoon, major.” In the next moment he was concealed by the leaves. Duncan waited several minutes in feverish impatience, before he caught another glimpse of the scout. Then he reappeared, creeping along the earth, from which his dress was hardly distinguishable, directly in the rear of his intended captive. Having reached within a few yards of the latter, he arose to his feet, silently and slowly. At that instant, several loud blows were struck on the water, and Duncan turned his eyes just in time to perceive that a hundred dark forms were plunging, in a body, into the troubled little sheet. Grasping his rifle, his looks were again bent on the Indian near him. Instead of taking the alarm, the unconscious savage stretched forward his neck, as if he also watched the movements about the gloomy lake, sev 102 The Book of Adventure with a sort of silly curiosity. In the meantime, the uplifted hand of Hawkeye was above him. But, without any apparent reason, it was withdrawn, and its owner indulged in another long, though silent, fit of merriment. When the peculiar and hearty laughter of Hawkeye was ended, instead of grasping his victim by the throat, he tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and exclaimed aloud, — “How now, friend ! have you a mind to teach the beavers to sing ?” “Even so," was the ready answer. “ It would seem that the Being that gave them power to improve his gifts so well, would not deny them voices to proclaim his praise.” THE OLD COCKED HAT (FROM THE Watch FIRES OF '76) BY SAMUEL ADAMS DRAKE. ea. BOSTON boy, I was born in an old house on Copp's Hill, near the burying-ground, which, I can promise you, I gave a wide berth after dark. I lived with my grandparents, my own father having been lost at sea. The old folks used to give me the run of the house; and many is the romp I've had, playing hide-and-seek around the huge chimney-stack in the garret, knocking my head against the big, cob-webbed rafters, from which all sorts of old cast-off clothes were hanging limp and forlorn. How they did scare me! Being a boy, what most charmed me in this museum of antiquities was an old sword, with the blade peeping out at the end of the scabbard, just like Jim Bolles the tinker's toes out of his boots. It went beyond my small strength to draw it, so firmly was the weapon rusted in the sheath; but with it loosely belted round me, and dragging on the floor behind me, and an old 103 104 The Book of Adventure cocked hat — which to my surprise fitted me exactly — stuck on my head, I doubt if any veteran just returned from victorious fields ever felt prouder than I. But we know it is not the sword alone that makes the soldier, any more than it is the dress that makes the man. One day, equipped as I have described, I ventured down-stairs to where grandfather was sitting by the fireside smoking his pipe, with one eye shut, and with the other meditatively watching the smoke slowly curl- ing upward along the low ceiling. At the clatter on the stairs, and the queer figure I cut, the old man took his pipe from his mouth, straightened himself up, and when I had made him a mock salute, said with a quiet chuckle, — “Well, lad, ready for action, I see. Do you mean to attack our old four-post bedstead, or will you try a bout with the pump, out in the backyard ? ” “But, grandpa,” said I, “ where in the wide world did you get this rusty old sword, and this funny old hat?” “ Come here, boy," said the old man; and taking from my head the thing which appeared so ridiculous to me, he put his finger through a hole I had not before noticed, and said very gravely, “ two inches lower, and the bullet would have gone through my head.” “ Where? when ?” I breathlessly exclaimed, quite overcome by the thought of grandfather's narrow escape, as well as by the impressive way in which he spoke of it. “At Concord Fight, in the year '75. You've read of that, my boy, in your history book, I'll be bound.” Boston Boys GUYING British OFFICERS. The Old Cocked Hat 105 “To be sure I have; and about General Gage and Pitcairn, and the minute-men. It is also called the Battle of Lexington. Oh, do, grandpa, tell me all about it. You don't know how I love to hear you talk about war and battles.” "Well, 'tis an old story. But sit down, my boy, and listen. You shall hear my first experience of strife and bloodshed.” Grandfather gave the backlog a stir, refilled his pipe, settled himself comfortably back in the old rush- bottomed chair, and thus began :- “I was just fourteen in April, ’75, and lived in this same house, built by my grandfather a hundred years before. On my way to and from school, I passed every day the barracks of the king's soldiers, for at that time Boston was a garrisoned town. Some of them were always loitering about, and I grew quite accustomed to hear myself called a young rebel by the redcoat gentry. But my cheeks would burn for many a long hour after. I must not forget to mention that I had got acquainted with a boy of about my own age, called Tony Apthorp, drummer-boy of the Welsh Fusileers, who now and then invited me into the barracks, and had even taught me how to beat the drum a little. “One fine morning I started off for school, as usual. When I got to the barracks, the redcoats were forming out in the street as if for parade; but even I, boy that I was, knew by their faces that something un- usual was going on. The sergeants were serving out ammunition, while the goat of the corps, a prime favorite with us boys, was loudly bleating in the bar- rack-yard. Such a look as Tony gave me! not a 106 The Book of Adventure to rom "Halloo, there, . bit like his usual mocking expression. Even the surly old drum-major let me pass without a word. I was lost in wonder. " While I stood looking at the men, — some of whom were buttoning their gaiters, others trying the locks of their muskets, — an aide came down the street at full gallop. “Halloo, there, Royals !' said he; where is your officer?' “A sergeant ; stepped out of the ranks, and made a salute. The officer then ordered the detachment to march; but the men did not stir a step. «• Does he take us for raw recruits, - like himself ?' growled some of those E l grizzled veterans. > ". It is his excellency's command,' said the aide angrily, starting off as fast Sa as his horse could carry him. * “* You should have said so at first, young Ta greenhorn,' muttered the old sergeant, fixing his bayonet. Come along, lads, come along; the gen- eral must not be kept waiting. “ The soldiers shouldered their firelocks, and took their way towards the Common. I soon lost sight of them in a turn of the street. “When I reached the schoolhouse door, I found it shut fast. A group of wondering urchins were loiter- The Old Cocked Hat . 107 ing there, each asking the other the meaning of these strange proceedings. But we were true schoolboys, and, provided our holiday did not disappoint us, cared not a button where it came from. Just then an upper window was thrown open, and the schoolmaster called out to us : — 666 Boys, war has begun; school is dismissed !' “Some one proposed that we should follow the “rig'lars ;' a proposal no sooner made than agreed to. Away we scampered, in the route the troops had just taken. By this time every one we met seemed strangely excited ; and I scarcely remembered that I would not have ventured above the mill-bridge the day before, for fear of a sound drubbing from the South End boys. “When we came near the Common, a long line of soldiers extended to the head of the mall in Long-Acre, and in their midst were two brass cannon I had so often gazed at with admiration and awe. At command of Lord Percy, the rig’lars shouldered their muskets, and moved off towards the Neck. We boys followed on in the rear, taking care to keep a good distance behind the marching column. I well remember that the fifes struck up ‘Yankee Doodle,' as they often did, just to plague our people. “By this time the whole town knew that the rig'lars had gone out the night before to destroy the stores at Concord, and that Lord Percy had been sent to re- enforce them. It was just as we came to the George Tavern that I noticed a small boy seated astride a fence, laughing so immoderately I felt sure he must be a born idiot, for I assure you I saw nothing to laugh at. re- 108 The Book of Adventure " " What are you laughing at, sirrah ?' demanded his lordship sternly. 66 To think how you'll dance to another tune by and by,' replied the young scape-grace, scampering off, out of harm's way. “Lord Percy gave his horse the spur, and galloped off to the front, as if these idle words had called up something in his mind he would rather have forgotten at that moment. If you should ever read the old ballad of Chevy Chase,' you will understand what I mean. “We had got quite through Little Cambridge, now Brighton, when an express from General Gage overtook the troops. The courier rode straight up to the earl, and, lifting his hat, delivered his errand in a few hur- ried words. His lordship turned in his saddle, and exclaimed, - “« On! press on! God's life, gentlemen! we shall be too late!' “Urged on by their officers, the soldiers marched silently and with a quickened pace. The road was deserted. Every house was shut up. Not a living soul was to be seen as we passed by. Now and then our ears caught the sound of some distant alarm bell. Once in a while we even thought we could catch the report of distant gunshots. At hearing these ill-omened noises in the air, some of our comrades began to lag behind, but a few of us kept on, more because we wouldn't give ourselves the time to think, than from superior courage. Boys will be boys, you know. We soon reached the bridge leading to the colleges, and I heard the word passed to halt, prime, and load. The The Old Cocked Hat · 109 cannoneers lighted their matches. These orders being executed, the troops impatiently awaited the word to march; but it did not come. The officers impatiently slashed the bushes by the roadside with their swords, and demanded of each other what was up. « « The bridge is up,' said one. 66. Then the rebels mean to make a stand here,' said another. “6 'Tis what I most wish for, next to my dinner,' ejaculated a third. 666 My throat is full of this infernal Yankee dust,' observed a fourth, carrying his well-filled canteen to his lips. “Here's confusion to the whole rebel crew!' “ The bridge was soon made passable, and the troops crossed. Before we followed, I picked up a handful of musket-balls where they had stood. At the colleges, an officer sternly forbade our following the column farther; and as we were thoroughly tired out, after quenching our thirst at a neighboring well, we threw ourselves down upon the grass to rest. “ The rig’lars were hardly out of sight, when the roads in every direction seemed swarming with men, some in little squads of two's and three's, some with semblance of military order, but all armed with muskets or fowling-pieces, and every one looking eager and de- termined. They halted, by common consent, on the college green. An angry murmur of many voices, every instant growing more and more threatening, came out of the throng, as their numbers increased. They seemed undecided what to do next. “ • The bridge is where we ought to have stopped them,' I heard one strapping fellow call out. SO е 110 The Book of Adventure “«So we might, if the planks hadn't been piled up on the wrong side ; too bad, too bad ! “A roar of rage and disappointment went up from two hundred lusty throats. It subsided in a moment, and I heard a voice, very calm, but clear as a bell, speaking rapidly. Every word cut like a whip-lash. “ Friends, all : we're just too late to prevent the two detachments from forming a junction, as I hoped we might; but so long as we're between them and their quarters, shall we let them march back unscathed ? Hark!' The distant booming of a cannon broke the stillness. The speaker, who had been standing quietly in the middle of the minute-men, now pushed his way out of the throng. Oh, he was a beautiful looking young man, armed with a fusee and hanger. 6. Why do we stand here idle, when our brethren are being slaughtered by the king's cut-throats? We have them between two fires. Let all who are willing to strike one good blow for liberty, follow me!' “How brave he looked as he said this, his eye spark- ling, his fine form drawn up to its full height! I thought I had never beheld such an heroic countenance. “Ay, avenge them! Down with the bloody-backs !! shouted the multitude. «• Lead us on, Doctor !' cried several voices; and I then knew it was Warren who had first spoken. “Waving his fusee toward the enemy, Warren put himself at the head of our people, who started off at a brisk pace up the road. As excited as the rest, without a moment's reflection, I joined them. We soon heard firing at no great distance. By our leader's advice, we now made a circuit across the fields, so as to reach the Ņme! The Old Cocked Hat 111 12 Il 1Air ny? Filmy road again unperceived at a point where it descends from a great pile of granite ledges into the plain. It is what military men call a defile. Here we concealed ourselves among the bushes and trees, on both sides of the road, In- dian fashion. The place where we lay hid is known as the Foot of the Rocks, to this day. “Cannon firing now grew rapid and clearer. At every peal my heart gave a great thump; but I tell you, boy, I had little idea of what was coming. 66 • There they are!' “Sure enough, there they were, com- ing down the narrow VINNA road in a cloud of VY! MIA dust, and that cloud ". spitting out fire right and left. Every house they came to was saluted with a volley; and we were maddened to desperation by the sight of feeble women, with babes in their arms, flying shrieking across the fields, while these miscreants fired and hooted at them, like so many demons let loose. Then up would leap the red flames from the dwellings that those poor, terrified creatures had just quitted.” e 112 The Book of Adventure The old man had kept his pipe lighted, giving now and then an angry whiff between whiles ; but he had now got so worked up over his recollections, that he bit the stem of his pipe short off. “Don't stop, grandpa! How did it end?” I ex- claimed. “Waal, boy, we just let the rig’lars clear our hiding- place, and then, with a yell of rage, our men fell on their rear. I forgot I had no earthly weapon but a stout hickory stick, and shouted, and rushed into the thickest of the mêlée with the rest. The first thing I knew, the soldiers faced about, and gave us a volley slap in our faces. I thought the day of judgment had come, sartin, sure. How like fiends they looked, pant- ing with rage and heat, and with faces begrimed with powder and dirt! Well, I guess we looked as wicked to them as they did to us. “An officer on horseback waved the rigʻlars on, his sword in one hand, his hat in the other. 66. Upon them, my gallant Fusileers! Give them the cold steel! Drive the rebel pack to their kennels !' 66. Down with the murderers! Kill the assassins !' we yelled back at them. I jest tell you, bullets and curses flew thick and fast that day. Oh, we peppered them good, and they knew it! “ The soldiers were actually pushed along by our onset, some falling every instant under the deadly fire. Presently, a shot knocked the officer from his horse, at which a cheer went up from our side. Then we made another rush, and forced the enemy to a run. A poor devil of a drummer-boy was just in front of me. I sprang upon him, and brought him to the ground. The Old Cocked Hat 113 Lo and behold! it was Tony, my chum of the Royals. It was the work of an instant to take away his drum, put it on, and then to follow the throng, beating the charge like a drummer gone mad. My prisoner kept close at my heels. Our people saw my capture, and heard my drum. As for me, I hurrahed myself hoarse, and got this hole in my hat.” Here the old man paused, quite breathless. “Plague on't!” he at length exclaimed; “here's my pipe gone out, and the fire too. What'll granny say ?” FALSE TEETH, AN EYEGLASS, AND WHITE LEGS (From King Solomon's Mines.) By H. RIDER HAGGARD. \HE magic of the place, combined with the overwhelming sense of dangers left behind, and of the promised land reached at last, seemed to charm us into silence. Sir Henry and Umbopa sat conversing in a mixture of broken English and Kitchin Zulu in a low voice, but ear- nestly enough, and I lay, with my eyes half shut, upon that fragrant bed of fern and watched them. Presently I missed Good, and looked to see what had become of him. As I did so I observed him sitting by the bank of the stream, in which he had been bathing. He had nothing on but his flannel shirt, and his natural habits of extreme neatness having reas- serted themselves, was actively employed in making a most elaborate toilet. He had washed his guttapercha collar, thoroughly shaken out his trousers, coat, and waistcoat, and was now folding them up neatly till he was ready to put them on, shaking his head sadly as he did so over the numerous rents and tears in them, 114 False Teeth, an Eyeglass, and White Legs 115 O now 0 which had naturally resulted from our frightful jour- ney. Then he took his boots, scrubbed them with a handful of fern, and finally rubbed them over with a piece of fat, which he had carefully saved from the inco meat, till they looked, comparatively speaking, respect- able. Having inspected them judiciously through his eye-glass, he put them on and began a fresh operation. From a little bag he carried he produced a pocket comb in which was fixed a tiny looking-glass, and in this he surveyed himself. Apparently he was not satisfied, for he proceeded to do his hair with great care. Then came a pause whilst he again contemplated the effect; still it was not satisfactory. He felt his chin, on which was now the accumulated scrub of a ten days' beard. “ Surely,” thought I, “he is not going to try and shave.” But so it was. Taking the piece of fat with which he had greased his boots he washed it carefully in the stream. Then diving again into the bag he brought out a little pocket razor with a guard to it, such as are sold to people afraid of cutting themselves, or to those about to undertake a sea voyage. Then he vigorously scrubbed his face and chin with the fat and began. But it was evidently a painful process, for he groaned very much over it, and I was convulsed with inward laughter as I watched him struggling with that stubby beard. It seemed so very odd that a man should take the trouble to shave himself with a piece of fat in such a place and under such circumstances. At last he succeeded in getting the worst of the scrub off the right side of his face and chin, when suddenly I, who was watching, became aware of a flash of light that passed just by his head. 116 The Book of Adventure . 17 YAN CON : Good sprang up with a profane exclamation (if it had not been a safety razor he would certainly have cut his throat), and so did I, without the exclamation, and this was what I saw. Standing there, not more than twenty paces from where I was, and ten from Good, were a group of men. They were very tall and copper-colored, and some of them wore great plumes of black feathers and short cloaks of leopard skins; this was all I noticed at the moment. In front of them stood a youth of about seventeen, his hand still raised and his body bent forward in the attitude of a Grecian statue of a spear thrower. Evi- dently the flash of light had been a weapon, and he had thrown it. As I looked an old soldier-like looking man stepped forward out of the group, and catching the youth by the arm said something to him. Then they advanced upon us. Sir Henry, Good, and Umbopa e )""" had by this time seized their rifles and lifted them threateningly. The party of natives still came on. It struck me that they could not know what rifles were, or they would not have treated them with such con- tempt. “ Put down your guns !” I halloed to the others, seeing that our only chance of safety lay in conciliation. m False Teeth, an Eyeglass, and White Legs 117 They obeyed, and walking to the front I addressed the elderly man who had checked the youth. “Greeting,” I said, in Zulu, not knowing what language to use. To my surprise I was understood. “Greeting,” answered the man, not, indeed, in the same tongue, but in a dialect so closely allied to it, that neither Umbopa nor myself had any difficulty in under- standing it. Indeed, as we afterwards found out, the language spoken by this people was an old-fashioned form of the Zulu tongue, bearing about the same relationship to it that the English of Chaucer does to the English of the nineteenth century. “Whence come ye?” he went on, “what are ye? and why are the faces of three of ye white, and the face of the fourth as the face of our mother's sons ?” and he pointed to Umbopa. I looked at Umbopa as he said it, and it flashed across me that he was right. Umbopa was like the faces of the men before me, so was his great form. But I had not time to reflect on this coincidence. “ We are strangers, and come in peace,” I answered, speaking very slow, so that he might understand me, “and this man is our servant.” “ Ye lie,” he answered, “no strangers can cross the mountains where all things die. But what do your lies matter, if ye are strangers then ye must die, for no strangers may live in the land of the Kukuanas. It is the king's law. Prepare then to die, O strangers !” I was slightly staggered at this, more especially as I saw the hands of some of the party of men steal down to their sides, where hung on each what looked to me like a large and heavy knife. 118 The Book of Adventure “ What does that beggar say?” asked Good. “He says we are going to be scragged,” I answered grimly. “Oh, Lord,” groaned Good; and, as was his way when perplexed, put his hand to his false teeth, drag- ging the top set down and allowing them to fly back to his jaw with a snap. It was a most fortunate move, for next second the dignified crowd of Kukuanas gave a simultaneous yell of horror, and bolted back some yards. “ What's up?” said I. “It's his teeth,” whispered Sir Henry, excitedly. “ He moved them. Take them out, Good, take them out!” He obeyed, slipping the set into the sleeve of his flannel shirt. In another second curiosity had overcome fear, and the men advanced slowly. Apparently they had now forgotten their amiable intentions of doing for us. “How is it, 0 strangers," asked the old man solemnly, “ that the teeth of the man” (pointing to Good, who had nothing on but a flannel shirt, and had only half finished his shaving) " whose body is clothed, and whose legs are bare, who grows hair on one side of his sickly face and not on the other, and who has one shining and transparent eye, and teeth that move of themselves, coming away from the jaws and return- ing of their own will ?” “Open your mouth,” I said to Good, who promptly curled up his lips and grinned at the old gentleman like an angry dog, revealing to their astonished gaze two thin red lines of gum as utterly innocent of ivories as a new-born elephant. His audience gasped. False Teeth, an Eyeglass, and White Legs 119 “Where are his teeth ?” they shouted; “with our eyes we saw them.” Turning his head slowly and with a gesture of in- effable contempt, Good swept his hand across his mouth. Then he grinned again, and lo! there were two rows of lovely teeth. The young man who had flung the knife threw him- self down on the grass and gave vent to a prolonged howl of terror; and as for the old gentleman his knees knocked together with fear. . “I see that ye are spirits,” he said, falteringly; “ did ever man born of woman have hair on one side of his face and not on the other, or a round and trans- parent eye, or teeth which moved and melted away and grew again? Pardon us, O my lords.” Here was luck indeed, and, needless to say, I jumped at the chance. “It is granted,” I said, with an imperial smile. “ Nay, ye shall know the truth. We come from another world, though we are men such as ye; we come,” I went on, “ from the biggest star that shines at night.” “Oh! oh!” groaned the chorus of astonished aborigines. “Yes,” I went on, “we do, indeed ;” and I again smiled benignly as I uttered that amazing lie. “We come to stay with you a little while, and bless you by our sojourn. Ye will see, O friends, that I have pre- pared myself by learning your language.” “It is so, it is so," said the chorus. “ Only, my lord,” put in the old gentleman, “ thou hast learnt it very badly.” False Teeth, an Eyeglass, and White Legs 121 Mrr The old man smiled. “That my lord cannot do,” he said. I raised the rifle, and covered the buck. It was a small animal, and one which one might well be ex- cused for missing, but I knew that it would not do to miss. I drew a deep breath, and slow- ly pressed on the trigger. The buck stood still as stone. “Bang! thud !” The buck sprang into the air and fell on the rock dead as a door nail. A groan of terror burst from the group before us. “If ye want meat,” I remarked coolly, “go fetch that buck.” The old man made a sign, and one of his followers departed, and pres- ently returned bearing the klip- springer. I noticed, with satisfac- tion, that I had hit it fairly behind the shoulder. They gathered round the poor creature's body, gazing at the bullet hole in consternation. “ Ye see,” I said, “I do not speak empty words.” There was no answer. “If ye yet doubt our power,” I went on, “let one of ye go stand upon that rock that I may make him as this buck.” False Teeth, an Eyeglass, and White Legs 123 “ It is well, my lords, we will lead you, but the way is long. We are hunting three days' journey from the place of the king. But let my lords have patience, and we will lead them.” “It is well,” I said, carelessly, “ all time is before us, for we do not die. We are ready, lead on. But Infadoos, and thou Scragga, beware! Play us no tricks, make for us no snares, for before your brains of mud have thought of them, we shall know them and avenge them. The light from the transparent eye of him with the bare legs and the half-haired face (Good) shall destroy you, and go through your land : his vanishing teeth shall fix themselves fast in you and eat you up, you and your wives and children; the magic tubes shall talk with you loudly, and make you as sieves. Beware!” This magnificent address did not fail of its effect; indeed, it was hardly needed, so deeply were our friends already impressed with our powers. The old man made a deep obeisance, and murmured the word “Koom, Koom,” which I afterwards discov- ered was their royal salute, corresponding to the Bayéte of the Zulus, and turning, addressed his followers. These at once proceeded to lay hold of all our goods and chattels, in order to bear them from us, except- ing only the guns, which they would on no account touch. They even seized Good's clothes, which were, as the reader may remember, neatly folded up beside him. He at once made a dive for them and a loud alter- cation ensued. “Let not my lord of the transparent eye and the 124 The Book of Adventure melting teeth touch them,” said the old man. “Surely his slaves shall carry the things.” “But I want to put 'em on!” roared Good, in nervous English. Umbopa translated. “Nay, my lord,” put in Infadoos, “would my lord cover up his beautiful white legs (although he was so dark Good had a singular white skin) from the eyes of his servants? Have we offended my lord that he should do such a thing ?” Here I nearly exploded with laughing; and mean- while, one of the men started on with the garments. HI ulkka i TV “ Dash it!” roared Good, " that black villain has got my trousers.” “Look here, Good,” said Sir Henry, “ you have ap- peared in this country in a certain character, and you must live up to it. It will never do for you to put on trousers again. Henceforth you must live in a flannel shirt, a pair of boots, and an eye-glass.” “Yes,” I said, “and with whiskers on one side of your face and not on the other. If you change any of these things they will think we are impostors. I am e are am False Teeth, an Eyeglass, and White Legs 125 very sorry for you, but, seriously, you must do it. If once they begin to suspect us, our lives will not be worth a brass farthing." “Do you really think so ?” said Good, gloomily. “I do, indeed. Your beautiful white legs' and your eye-glass are now the feature of our party, and as Sir Henry says, you must live up to them. Be thank- ful that you have got your boots on, and that the air is warm.” Good sighed, and said no more, but it took him a fortnight to get accustomed to his attire. 10 A BRAVE WOMAN'S ADVENTURE (From Astoria.) BY WASHINGTON IRVING. S the party were proceeding up the Columbia, near the mouth of the Wallah-Wallah river, several Indian canoes put off from the shore to overtake them, and a voice called upon them in French, and re- quested them to stop. They accordingly put to shore, and were joined by those in the canoes. To their surprise, they recognized in the person who had hailed them the Indian wife of Pierre Dorion, accompanied by her two children. She had a story to tell, involving the fate of several of our unfor- tunate adventurers. Mr. John Reed, the Hibernian, it will be remembered, had been detached during the summer to the Snake river. His party consisted of four Canadians, Gilles Le Clerc, François Landry, Jean Baptiste Turcot, and André La Chapelle, together with two hunters, Pierre 126 A Brave Woman's Adventure 127 acc was verse Dorion and Pierre Delaunay; Dorion, as usual, being accompanied by his wife and children. The objects of this expedition were twofold ; to trap beaver, and to search for the three hunters, Robinson, Hoback, and Rezner. In the course of the autumn, Reed lost one man, Landry, by death ; another one, Pierre Delaunay, who was of a sullen, perverse disposition, left him in a moody fit, and was never heard of afterwards. The number of his party was not, however, reduced by these losses, as the three hunters, Robinson, Hoback, and Rezner, had joined it. Reed now built a house on the Snake river, for their winter quarters; which being completed, the party set about trapping. Rezner, Le Clerc, and Pierre Dorion, went about five days' journey from the wintering house, to a part of the country well stocked with beaver. Here they put up a hut, and proceeded to trap with great success. While the men were out hunting, Pierre Dorion's wife remained at home to dress the skins and prepare the meals. She was thus employed one evening about the beginning of January, cooking the supper of the hunters, when she heard footsteps, and Le Clerc staggered, pale and bleeding, into the hut. He in- formed her that a party of savages had surprised them, while at their traps, and had killed Rezner and her husband. He had barely strength left to give this information, when he sank upon the ground. The poor woman saw that the only chance for life was instant flight, but, in this exigency, showed that presence of mind and force of character for which she had frequently been noted. With great difficulty, she 128 The Book of Adventure caught two of the horses belonging to the party. Then collecting her clothes, and a small quantity of beaver meat and dried salmon, she packed them upon one of the horses, and helped the wounded man to mount upon it. On the other horse she mounted with her two chil- dren, and hurried away from this dangerous neighbor- hood, directing her flight for Mr. Reed's establishment. On the third day, she descried a number of Indians on horseback proceeding in an easterly direction. She im- mediately dismounted with her children, and helped Le Clerc likewise to dismount, and all concealed them- selves. Fortunately they escaped the sharp eyes of the savages, but had to proceed with the utmost caution. That night, they slept without fire or water; she man- aged to keep her children warm in her arms; but before morning, poor Le Clerc died. With the dawn of day, the resolute woman resumed her course, and, on the fourth day, reached the house of Mr. Reed. It was deserted, and all around were marks of blood and signs of a furious massacre. Not doubt- ing that Mr. Reed and his party had all fallen victims, she turned in fresh horror from the spot. For two days she continued hurrying forward, ready to sink for want of food, but more solicitous about her children A Brave 129 ve Woman's Adventure than herself. At length she reached a range of the Rocky mountains, near the upper part of the Wallah- Wallah river. Here she chose a wild, lonely ravine, as her place of winter refuge. She had fortunately a buffalo robe and three deer- skins; of these, and of pine bark and cedar branches, she constructed a rude wigwam, which she pitched be- side a mountain spring. Having no other food, she killed the two horses, and smoked their flesh. The skins aided to cover her hut. Here she dragged out the winter, with no other company than her two children. Towards the middle of March, her provisions were nearly exhausted. She therefore packed up the remainder, slung it on her back, and, with her helpless little ones, set out again on her wanderings. Crossing the ridge of mountains, she de- scended to the banks of the Wallah - Wallah, and kept along them until she arrived where that river throws itself into the Columbia. - She was hospitably received and entertained by the Wallah-Wallahs, and had been nearly two weeks among them, when the two canoes passed. On being interrogated, she could assign no reason for this murderous attack of the savages; it appeared to be perfectly wanton and unprovoked. Some of the Astorians supposed it an act of butchery by a roving 130 The Book of Adventure band of Blackfeet; others, however, and with greater probability of correctness, have ascribed it to the tribe of Pierced-nose Indians, in revenge for the death of their comrade hanged by order of Mr. Clarke. If so, it shows that these sudden and apparently wanton outbreakings of sanguinary violence on the part of savages, have often some previous, though perhaps remote, provocation. AN ADVENTURE IN WAR TIME (From HORSE SHOE Robinson.) BY JOHN P. KENNEDY. AVID RAMSAY’S house was situated on a by-road, between five and six miles from Musgrove's mill, and at about the distance of one mile from the principal route of travel between i Ninety-Six and Blackstock’s. In passing from the military post that had been established at the former place, towards the latter, Ramsay's lay off to the left, with a piece of dense wood intervening. The by-way, leading through the farm, diverged from the main road, and traversed this wood until it reached the cultivated grounds immediately around Ramsay's dwelling. In the journey from Mus- grove's mill to this point of divergence, the traveller was obliged to ride some two or three miles upon the great road leading from the British garrison, a road that, at the time of my story, was much frequented by military parties, scouts, and patrols, that were con- cerned in keeping up the communication between the several posts which were established by the British authorities along that frontier. Amongst the Whig 131 132 The Book of Adventure 1 LED. parties, also, there were various occasions which brought them under the necessity of frequent passage through this same district, and which, therefore, fur- nished opportunities for collision and skirmish with the opposite forces. It is a matter of historical notoriety, that immedi- ately after the fall of Charleston, and the rapid subju- gation of South Carolina that followed this event, there were three bold and skilful soldiers who undertook to carry on the war of resistance to the established au- thorities, upon a settled and digested plan of annoyance, under the most discouraging state of destitution, as re- garded all the means of offence, that, perhaps, history records. It will not detract from the fame of other patriots of similar enthusiasm and of equal bravery, to mention the names of Marion, Sumter, and Pickens, in connection with this plan of keeping up an appar- ently hopeless partisan warfare, which had the promise neither of men, money, nor arms, — and yet which was so nobly sustained, amidst accumulated discomfitures, as to lead eventually to the subversion of the “ Tory ascendency” and the expulsion of the British power. According to the plan of operations concerted amongst these chieftains, Marion took the lower country under his supervision; Pickens the southwestern districts, bordering upon the Savannah; and to Sumter was allotted all that tract of country lying between the Broad and the Catawba rivers, from the angle of their junction, below Camden, up to the mountain districts of North Carolina. How faithfully these men made good their promise to the country, is not only written in authentic history, but it is also told in many a legend An Adventure in War Time 133 amongst the older inhabitants of the region that was made the theatre of action. It only concerns my story to refer to the fact, that the events which have occupied my last five or six chapters, occurred in that range more peculiarly appropriated to Sumter, and that the high road from Blackstone's toward Ninety-Six was almost as necessary for communication between Sumter and Pickens, as between the several British garrisons. On the morning that succeeded the night in which Horse Shoe Robinson arrived at Musgrove's, the stout and honest sergeant might have been seen, about eight o'clock, leaving the main road from Ninety-Six, at the point where that leading to David Ramsay's separated from it, and cautiously urging his way into the deep forest, by the more private path into which he had entered. The knowledge that Innis was encamped along the Ennoree, within a short distance of the mill, had compelled him to make an extensive circuit to reach Ramsay's dwelling, whither he was now bent; and he had experienced considerable delay in his morn- ing journey, by finding himself frequently in the neigh- borhood of small foraging parties of Tories, whose motions he was obliged to watch for fear of an en- counter. He had once already been compelled to use bis horse's heels in what he called “fair flight ;” and once to ensconce himself, a full half hour, under cover of the thicket afforded him by a swamp. He now, therefore, according to his own phrase, “ dived into the little road that scrambled down through the woods towards Ramsay's, with all his eyes about him, looking out as sharply as a fox on a foggy morning;” and with this circumspection, he was not long in arriving An Adventure in War Time 135 before her, in which she was plying that household thrift which the negro described ; “luck to you, ma’am, and all your house! I hope you haven't none of these clinking and clattering bullies about you, that are as thick over this country as the frogs in the kneading troughs, that they tell of.” « Good lack, Mr. Horse Shoe Robinson,” exclaimed the matron, offering the sergeant her hand. “ What has brought you here? What news? Who are with you? For patience sake, tell me!” “I am alone,” said Robinson, “ and a little wettish, mistress,” he added, as he took off his hat and shook the water from it;“ it has just sot up a rain, and looks as if it was going to give us enough on't. You don't mind doing a little dinner-work of a Sunday, I see — shelling of beans, I s'pose, is tantamount to dragging a sheep out of a pond, as the preachers allow on the Sabbath — ha, ha ! - Where's Davy ?”. “ He's gone over to the meeting-house on Ennoree, hoping to hear something of the army at Camden; per- haps you can tell us the news from that quarter ?” “Faith, that's a mistake, Mistress Ramsay. Though I don't doubt that they are hard upon the scratches, by this time. But, at this present speaking, I command the flying artillery. We have but one man in the corps — and that's myself: and all the guns we have got is this piece of ordnance, that hangs in this old belt by my side” (pointing to his sword) — “ and that I cap- tured from the enemy at Blackstock's. I was hoping I mought find John Ramsay at home — I have need of him as a recruit.” “Ah, Mr. Robinson, John has a heavy life of it over 136 The Book of Adventure there with Sumter. The boy is often without his natural rest, or a meal's victuals; and the general thinks so much of him, that he can't spare him to come home. I haven't the heart to complain, as long as John's service is of any use, but it does seem, Mr. Robinson, like needless tempting of the mercies of Providence. We thought that he might have been here to-day; yet I am glad he didn't come — for he would have been certain to get into trouble. Who should come in, this morning, just after my husband had clev- erly got away on his horse, but a young cock-a-whoop ensign that belongs to Ninety-Six, and four great Scotchmen with him, all in red coats; they had been out thieving, I warrant, and were now going home again. And who but they! Here they were, swagger- ing all about my house — and calling for this — and calling for that as if they owned the fee simple of every- thing on the plantation. And it made my blood rise, Mr. Horse Shoe, to see them run out in the yard, and catch up my chickens and ducks, and kill as many as they could string about them — and I not daring to say a word : though I did give them a piece of my mind, too.” “Who is at home with you?” inquired the sergeant eagerly. “ Nobody but my youngest boy, Andrew," answered the dame. “And then, the filthy, toping rioters," she continued, exalting her voice. “What arms have you in the house?” asked Robin- son, without heeding the dame's rising anger. “We have a rifle, and a horseman's pistol that belongs to John. They must call for drink, too, An Adventure in War Time 137 and turn my house, of a Sunday morning, into a tavern.” “They took the route towards Ninety-Six, you said, Mistress Ramsay?”. “Yes, — they went straight forward upon the road. But, look you, Mr. Horse Shoe, you're not thinking of going after them ?” “Isn't there an old field, about a mile from this, on that road?” inquired the sergeant, still intent upon his own thoughts. “There is,” replied the dame; “ with the old school- house upon it.” “A lop-sided, rickety log-cabin in the middle of the field. Am I right, good woman?” “Yes.” “And nobody lives in it? It has no door to it?” “There ha'n't been anybody in it these seven years.” “I know the place very well,” said the sergeant, thoughtfully; “there is woods just on this side of it.” “ That's true," replied the dame; “but what is it you are thinking about, Mr. Robinson ?” “How long before this rain began was it that they quitted this house ?”. “ Not above fifteen minutes.” “ Mistress Ramsay, bring me the rifle and pistol both - and the powder-horn and bullets." “ As you say, Mr. Horse Shoe,” answered the dame, as she turned round to leave the room; “but I am sure I can't suspicion what you mean to do.” In a few moments the woman returned with the weapons, and gave them to the sergeant. “ Where is Andy ?” asked Horse Shoe. 138 The Book of Adventure e n The hostess went to the door and called her son, and, almost immediately afterwards, a sturdy boy of about twelve or fourteen years of age entered the apartment, his clothes dripping with rain. He modestly and shyly seated himself on a chair near the door, with his soaked hat flapping down over a face full of freckles, and not less rife with the expression of an open, dauntless hard- ihood of character. “How would you like a scrummage, Andy, with them Scotchmen that stole your mother's chickens this morning ?” asked Horse Shoe. “ I'm agreed,” replied the boy,“ if you will tell me what to do.” “You are not going to take the boy out on any of your desperate projects, Mr. Horse Shoe?” said the mother, with the tears starting instantly into her eyes. 66 You wouldn't take such a child as that into danger ?” “Bless your soul, Mrs. Ramsay, there ar'n't no danger about it! Don't take on so. It's a thing that is either done at a blow, or not done, — and there's an end of it. I want the lad only to bring home the pris- oners for me, after I have took them.” “Ah, Mr. Robinson, I have one son already in these wars — God protect him ! — and you men don't know how a mother's heart yearns for her children in these times. I cannot give another,” she added, as she threw her arms over the shoulders of the youth and drew him to her bosom. “Oh! it ain't nothing,” said Andrew, in a sprightly tone. “It's only snapping of a pistol, mother, — pooh! If I'm not afraid, you oughtn't to be.” “I give you my honor, Mistress Ramsay,” said An Adventure in War Time 139 Robinson, “ that I will bring or send your son back safe in one hour; and that he sha'n't be put in any sort of danger whatsomedever: come, that's a good woman!” “ You are not deceiving me, Mr. Robinson ?” asked the matron, wiping away a tear. “You wouldn't mock the sufferings of a weak woman in such a thing as this?” “On the honesty of a sodger, ma'am,” replied Horse Shoe, “ the lad shall be in no danger, as I said before - whatsomedever." “ Then I will say no more," answered the mother. “But Andy, my child, be sure to let Mr. Robinson keep before you." Horse Shoe now loaded the firearms, and having slung the pouch across his body, he put the pistol into the hands of the boy ; then shouldering his rifle, he and his young ally left the room. Even on this occa- sion, serious as it might be deemed, the sergeant did not depart without giving some manifestation of that light-heartedness which no difficulties ever seemed to have the power to conquer. He thrust his head back into the room, after he had crossed the threshold, and said with an encouraging laugh, “ Andy and me will teach them, Mistress Ramsay, Pat's point of war — we will surround the ragamuffins.” “ Now, Andy, my lad,” said Horse Shoe, after he had mounted Captain Peter, “ you must get up behind me. Turn the lock of your pistol down,” he continued, as the boy sprang upon the horse's rump, “and cover it with the flap of your jacket, to keep the rain off. It won't do to hang fire at such a time as this.” The lad did as he was directed, and Horse Shoe, hav- ver 140 The Book of Adventure es ing secured his rifle in the same way, put his horse up to a gallop, and took the road in the direction that had been pursued by the soldiers. As soon as our adventurers had gained a wood, at the distance of about half a mile, the sergeant relaxed his speed, and advanced at a pace a little above a walk. “Andy," he said, “ we have got rather a ticklish sort of a job before us, so I must give you your lesson, which you will understand better by knowing some- thing of my plan. As soon as your mother told me that these thieving villains had left her house about fifteen minutes before the rain came on, and that they had gone along upon this road, I remembered the old field up here, and the little log hut in the middle of it; and it was natural to suppose that they had just got about near that hut, when this rain came up; and then, it was the most supposable case in the world, that they would naturally go into it, as the driest place they could find. So now, you see, it's my calculation that the whole batch is there at this very point of time We will go slowly along, until we get to the other end of this wood, in sight of the old field, and then, if there is no one on the lookout, we will open our first trench ; you know what that means, Andy ?”. “It means, I s'pose, that we'll go right smack at them,” replied Andrew. “Pretty exactly,” said the sergeant. “But listen to me. Just at the edge of the woods you will have to get down, and put yourself behind a tree. I'll ride forward, as if I had a whole troop at my heels, and if I catch them, as I expect, they will have a little fire An Adventure in War Time 141 kindled, and, as likely as not, they'll be cooking some of your mother's fowls.” : “ Yes, I understand,” said the boy, eagerly, — “No, you don't,” replied Horse Shoe, “but you will when you hear what I am going to say. If I get at them onawares, they'll be mighty apt to think they are surrounded, and will bellow, like fine fellows, for quar- ter. And, thereupon, Andy, I'll cry out 'stand fast,' as if I was speaking to my own men, and when you hear that, you must come up full tilt, because it will be a signal to you that the enemy has surrendered. Then it will be your business to run into the house and bring out the muskets, as quick as a rat runs through a kitchen: and when you have done that, why, all's done. But if you should hear any popping of firearms – that is, more than one shot, which I may chance to let off — do you take that for a bad sign, and get away as fast as you can heel it. You comprehend.” “Oh! yes,” replied the lad, “and I'll do what you want, and more too, maybe, Mr. Robinson.” “ Captain Robinson, — remember, Andy, you must call me captain, in the hearing of these Scotchmen.” “I'll not forget that neither,” answered Andrew. By the time that these instructions were fully im- pressed upon the boy, our adventurous forlorn hope, as it may fitly be called, had arrived at the place which Horse Shoe Robinson had designated for the com- mencement of active operations. They had a clear view of the old field, and it afforded them a strong assurance that the enemy was exactly where they wished him to be, when they discovered smoke arising from the chimney of the hovel. Andrew was soon ou m 142 The Book of Adventure posted behind a tree, and Robinson only tarried a moment to make the boy repeat the signals agreed on, in order to ascertain that he had them correctly in his memory. Being satisfied from this experiment that the intelligence of his young companion might be de- pended upon, he galloped across the intervening space, and, in a few seconds, abruptly reined up his steed, in the very doorway of the hut. The party within was gath- ered around a fire at the further end, and, in the corner near the door, were four muskets thrown to- gether against the wall. To spring from his saddle and thrust himself one pace inside of the door, I was a movement which the sergeant exe- cuted in an instant, shouting at the same time, — “Halt! File off right and left to both sides of the house, and wait orders. I demand the surrender of all here,” he said, as he planted himself between the party and their weapons. “I will shoot down the first man who budges a foot.” “ Leap to your arms,” cried the young officer who commanded the little party inside of the house. “Why do you stand ?” “I don't want to do you or your men any harm, young man,” said Robinson, as he brought his rifle to a level, “but, by my father's son, I will not leave one of you to be put upon a muster-roll if you raise a hand at this moment." Both parties now stood, for a brief spa ried tho budoe weapon e a An Adventure in War Time 143 other in a fearful suspense, during which there was an expression of doubt and irresolution visible on the countenances of the soldiers, as they surveyed the broad proportions, and met the stern glance of the sergeant, whilst the delay, also, began to raise an apprehension in the mind of Robinson that his stratagem would be discovered. “Shall I let loose upon them, captain ?” said Andrew Ramsay, now appearing, most unexpectedly to Robin- son, at the door of the hut. “Come on, boys !” he shouted, as he turned his face towards the field. “Keep them outside of the door — stand fast,” cried the doughty sergeant, with admirable promptitude, in the new and sudden posture of his affairs caused by this opportune appearance of the boy. “Sir, you see that it's not worth while fighting five to one; and I should be sorry to be the death of any of your brave fellows; so take my advice, and surrender to the Con- tinental Congress and this scrap of its army which I command.” During this appeal the sergeant was ably seconded by the lad outside, who was calling out first on one name, and then on another, as if in the presence of a troop. The device succeeded, and the officer within, believing the forbearance of Robinson to be real, at length said, — “ Lower your rifle, sir. In the presence of a supe- rior force, taken by surprise, and without arms, it is my duty to save bloodshed. With the promise of fair usage, and the rights of prisoners of war, I surrender this little foraging party under my command.” “I'll make the terms agreeable,” replied the sergeant. Oner 144 The Book of Adventure “ Never doubt me, sir. Right hand file, advance, and receive the arms of the prisoners !” “I'm here, captain,” said Andrew, in a conceited tone as if it were a near occasion of merriment; and the lad quickly entered the house and secured the weapons, retreating with them some paces from the door. “Now sir,” said Horse Shoe to the ensign, “your sword, and whatever else you mought have about you of the ammunitions of war!” The officer delivered up his sword and a pair of pocket pistols. As Horse Shoe received these tokens of victory, he asked, with a lambent smile, and what he intended to be an elegant and condescending. composure, “ Your name, sir, if I mought take the freedom ?” “ Ensign St. Jermyn, of his Majesty's seventy-first regiment of light infantry.” “Ensign, your servant,” added Horse Shoe, still pre- serving this unusual exhibition of politeness. “You have defended your post like an old sodger, although you ha’n’t much beard on your chin; but, seeing you have given up, you shall be treated like a man who has done his duty. You will walk out now, and form your- self in line at the door. I'll engage my men shall do you no harm; they are of a marciful breed.” When the little squad of prisoners submitted to this command, and came to the door, they were stricken with equal astonishment and mortification to find, in place of the detachment of cavalry which they expected to see, nothing but a man, a boy, and a horse. Their first emotions were expressed in curses, which were even 146 The Book of Adventure this order victors and vanquished returned to David Ramsay's. “Well, I have brought you your ducks and chickens back, mistress," said the sergeant, as he halted the prisoners at the door; “and what's more, I have brought home a young sodger that's worth his weight in gold.” “ Heaven bless my child ! my brave boy!” cried the mother, seizing the lad in her arms, unheeding anything else in the present perturbation of her feelings. “I feared ill would come of it; but Heaven has preserved him. Did he behave handsomely Mr. Robinson? But I am sure he did.” “A little more venturesome, ma'am, than I wanted him to be," replied Horse Shoe; “ but he did excellent service. These are his prisoners, Mistress Ramsay; I should never have got them if it hadn't been for Andy. In these drumming and fifing times the babies suck in quarrel with their mother's milk. Show me another boy in America that's made more prisoners than there was men to fight them with, that's all ?” WESTWARD HO! WESTWARD HO! S W In Kingsley's vigorous story Amyas Leigh was a brave young Devonshire giant who had many exciting adventures as a gallant sea rover in the days of good Queen Bess. His most famous voyage was that in which he undertook to explore the unknown regions of the New World, hoping to find the mysterious city of Manoa with its fabulous treasures of gold and gems. He sailed from Devon with a crew of a hundred trusty fellows. Will Cary was his lieutenant, and Sir John Brimblecomb the chaplain, while Salvation Yeo, a white- haired sailor who had spent his youth in mad adven- tures on the Spanish main, was the leader of the crew. The expedition encountered many perils on the Orinoco and the Amazon, in Peru and Venezuela. They had lost more than half their men in battles with the Span- iards, or by accident and disease. “ Fever, snakes, jaguars, alligators, cannibal-fish, elec- tric eels, have thinned their ranks month by month, and of their march through the primeval wilderness no track remains, except these lonely graves." Yet their spirits were undaunted. An Indian lad, whom they had res- cued from his Spanish masters, was their companion and interpreter. He had made them friends with Ay- acanora, a beautiful Indian princess, in whose hospita- ble village they had tarried some days. But the rest- less rovers were soon away again to seek the Golden City, leaving Ayacanora to mourn. Their next adven- ture was an encounter with a Spanish gold-train, the story of which now follows. d HOW THEY TOOK THE GOLD-TRAIN (From WESTWARD Ho !) BY CHARLES KINGSLEY. A in seveda a “God will relent, and quit thee all thy debt, Who ever more approves, and more accepts Him who imploring mercy sues for life, Than who self-rigorous chooses death as due, Which argues over-just, and self-displeased For self-offence, more than for God offended.” Samson Agonistes. FORTNIGHT or more has passed in severe toil, but not more severe than they have endured many a time before. Bidding farewell once and forever to the green ocean of the eastern plains, they have crossed the Cordillera; they have taken a longing glance at the city of Santa Fé, lying in the midst of rich gardens on its lofty mountain plateau, and have seen, as was to be expected, that it was far too large a place for any attempt of theirs. But they have not altogether thrown away their time. Their Indian lad has discov- ered that a gold-train is going down from Santa Fé toward the Magdalena ; and they are waiting for it an 147 148 The Book of Adventure beside the miserable rut which serves for a road, en- camped in a forest of oaks which would make them almost fancy themselves back again in Europe, were it not for the tree-ferns which form the under-growth; and were it not, too, for the deep gorges opening at their very feet; in which, while their brows are swept by the cool breezes of a temperate zone, they can see far below, dim through their everlasting vapor-bath of rank hot steam, the mighty forms and gorgeous colors of the tropic forest. They have pitched their camp among the tree-ferns, above a spot where the path winds along a steep hill- side, with a sheer cliff below of many a hundred feet. There was a road there once, perhaps, when Cundina- marca was a civilized and cultivated kingdom ; but all which Spanish misrule has left of it are a few steps slipping from their places at the bottom of a narrow ditch of mud. It has gone the way of the aqueducts, and bridges, and post-houses, the gardens and the llama- flocks of that strange empire. In the mad search for gold, every art of civilization has fallen to decay, save architecture alone; and that survives only in the splen- did cathedrals which have risen upon the ruins of the temples of the Sun, in honor of a milder Pantheon ; if, indeed, that can be called a milder one which demands (as we have seen already) human sacrifices, unknown to the gentle nature-worship of the Incas. And now, the rapid tropic vegetation has reclaimed its old domains, and Amyas and his crew are as utterly alone, within a few miles of an important Spanish settle- ment, as they would be in the solitudes of the Orinoco or the Amazon. How They Took the Gold-Train 149 In the meanwhile, all their attempts to find sulphur and nitre have been unavailing; and they have been forced to depend after all (much to Yeo's disgust) upon their swords and arrows. Be it so: Drake took Nom- bre de Dios and the gold-train there, with no better weapons; and they may do as much. So, having blocked up the road above by felling a large tree across it, they sit there among the flowers chewing coca, in default of food and drink, and medi- tating among themselves the cause of a mysterious roar, which has been heard nightly in their wake ever since they left the banks of the Meta. Jaguar it is not, nor monkey: it is unlike any sound they know; and why should it follow them? However, they are in the land of wonders; and, moreover, the gold-train is far more important than any noise. At last, up from beneath there was a sharp crack and a loud cry. The crack was neither the snapping of a branch, nor the tapping of a woodpecker; the cry was neither the scream of the parrot, nor the howl of the monkey, — " That was a whip’s crack," said Yeo, “and a woman's wail. They are close here, lads !” “A woman's ? Do they drive women in their gangs?” asked Amyas. “Why not, the brutes ? There they are, sir. Did you see their basnets glitter?” “Men!” said Amyas in a low voice, “I trust you all not to shoot till I do. Then give them one arrow, out swords, and at them! Pass the word along." Up they came, slowly, and all hearts beat loud at their coming. 150 The Book of Adventure First, about twenty soldiers, only one-half of whom were on foot; the other half being borne, incredible as it may seem, each in a chair on the back of a single Indian, while those who marched had consigned their heaviest armor and their arquebuses into the hands of attendant slaves, who were each pricked on at will by the pike of the soldier behind them. “ The men are mad to let their ordnance out of their hands." “Oh, sir, an Indian will pray to an arquebus not to shoot him ; be sure their artillery is safe enough,” said Yeo. “ Look at the proud villains," whispered another, “ to make dumb beasts of human creatures like that!” . A line of Indians, Negroes, and Zambos, naked, emaciated, scarred with whips and fetters, and chained together by their left wrists, toiled upwards, panting and perspiring under the burden of a basket held up by a strap which passed across their foreheads. Yeo's sneer was but too just; there were not only old men and youths among them, but women; slender young girls, mothers with children running at their knee; and, at the sight, a low murmur of indignation rose from the ambushed Englishmen, worthy of the free and righteous hearts of those days, when Raleigh could appeal to man and God, on the ground of a common humanity, in behalf of the outraged heathens of the New World ; when Englishmen still knew that man was man, and that the instinct of freedom was the righteous voice of God; ere the hapless seventeenth century had brutalized them also, by bestowing on How They Took the Gold-Train 151 them, amid a hundred other bad legacies, the fatal gift of negro-slaves. But the first forty, so Amyas counted, bore on their backs a burden which made all, perhaps, but him and Yeo, forget even the wretches who bore it. Each basket contained a square package of carefully corded hide; the look whereof friend Amyas knew full well. “ What's in they, captain ?”. “Gold !” And at that magic word all eyes were strained greedily forward, and such a rustle followed, that Amyas, in the very face of detection, had to whisper- “Be men, be men, or you will spoil all yet ! ” The last twenty, or so, of the Indians bore larger baskets, but more lightly freighted, seemingly with manioc, and maize-bread, and other food for the party; and after them came, with their bearers and attendants, just twenty soldiers more, followed by the officer in charge, who smiled away in his chair, and twirled two huge mustachios, thinking of nothing less than of the English arrows which were itching to be away and through his ribs. The ambush was complete; the only question how and when to begin ? Amyas had a shrinking, which all will understand, from drawing bow in cool blood on men so utterly un- suspicious and defenceless, even though in the very act of devilish cruelty – for devilish cruelty it was, as three or four drivers armed with whips, lingered up and down the slowly-staggering file of Indians, and avenged every moment's lagging, even every stumble, by a blow of the cruel manati-hide, which cracked like 152 The Book of Adventure a pistol-shot against the naked limbs of the silent and uncomplaining victim. Suddenly the casus belli, as usually happens, arose of its own accord. The last but one of the chained line was an old gray- headed man, followed by a slender graceful girl of some eighteen years old, and Amyas's heart yearned over them as they came up. Just as they passed, the fore- most of the file had rounded the corner above; there was a bustle, and a voice shouted, “Halt, Señors ! there is a tree across the path!” “A tree across the path ?” bellowed the officer, ... while the line of trembling Indians, told to halt above, and driven on by blows below, surged up and down upon the ruinous steps of the Indian road, until the poor old man fell grovelling on his face. If The officer leaped down, and hurried up- ward to see what had happened. Of course, he came across the old man. “Sin pecado concebida ! Grandfather of Beelzebub, is this a place to lie worshipping your fiends ?” and he pricked the prostrate wretch with the point of his sword. The old man tried to rise: but the weight on his 0an lise How They Took the Gold-Train 153 head was too much for him; he fell again, and lay motionless. The driver applied the manati-hide across his loins, once, twice, with fearful force; but even that specific was useless. “ Gastado, Señor Capitan," said he with a shrug. " Used up. He has been failing these three months !” “What does the intendant mean by sending me out with worn-out cattle like these ? Forward there!” shouted he, “ Clear away the tree, Señors, and I'll soon clear the chain. Hold it up, Pedrillo !” The driver held up the chain, which was fastened to the old man's wrist. The officer stepped back, and flourished round his head a Toledo blade, whose beauty made Amyas break the Tenth Commandment on the spot. The man was a tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, high-bred man; and Amyas thought that he was going to display the strength of his arm, and the temper of his blade, in severing the chain at one stroke. Even he was not prepared for the recondite fancies of a Spanish adventurer, worthy son or nephew of those first conquerors, who used to try the keenness of their swords upon the living bodies of Indians, and regale themselves at meals with the odor of roasting caciques. The blade gleamed in the air, once, twice, and fell : not on the chain, but on the wrist which it fettered. There was a shriek — a crimson flash — and the chain and its prisoner were parted indeed. One moment more, and Amyas's arrow would have been through the throat of the murderer, who paused, U. e was 154 The Book of Adventure regarding his workmanship with a satisfied smile ; but vengeance was not to come from: him. Quick and fierce as a tiger-cat, the girl sprang on the ruffian, and with the intense strength of passion, clasped him in her arms, and leaped with him from the narrow ledge into the abyss below. There was a rush, a shout; all faces were bent over the precipice. The girl hung by her chained wrist : the officer was gone. There was a moment's awful silence; and then Amyas heard his body crashing through the tree-tops far below. “ Haul her up! Hew her in pieces ! Burn the witch !” and the driver, seizing the chain, pulled at it with all his might, while all springing from their chairs, stooped over the brink. Now was the time for Amyas ! Heaven had deliv- ered them into his hands. Swift and sure, at ten yards off, his arrow rushed through the body of the driver, and then, with a roar as of the leaping lion, he sprang like an avenging angel into the midst of the aston- ished ruffians. His first thought was for the girl. In a moment, by sheer strength, he had jerked her safely up into the road; while the Spaniards recoiled right and left, fancying him for the moment some mountain giant or supernatural foe. His hurrah undeceived them in an instant, and a cry of “ English! Lutheran dogs!” arose, but arose too late. The men of Devon had followed their captain's lead: a storm of arrows left five Span- iards dead, and a dozen more wounded, and down leapt Salvation Yeo, his white hair streaming behind him, with twenty good swords more, and the work of death began. UITOW Cro How They Took the Gold-Train 155 The Spaniards fought like lions; but they had no time to fix their arquebuses on the crutches; no room, in that narrow path, to use their pikes. The English had the wall of them; and to have the wall there, was to have the foe's life at their mercy. Five desperate min- utes, and not a living Spaniard stood upon those steps; and certainly no living one lay in the green abyss be- low. Two only, who were behind the rest, happening to be in full armor, escaped without mortal wound, and fled down the hill again. “ After them! Michael Evans and Simon Heard ; and catch them if they run a league." The two long and lean Clovelly men, active as deer from forest training, ran two feet for the Spaniards’ one; and in ten minutes returned, having done their work; while Amyas and his men hurried past the Indians, to help Cary and the party forward, where shouts and musket shots announced a sharp affray. Their arrival settled the matter. All the Spaniards fell but three or four, who scrambled down the crannies of the cliff. “Let not one of them escape! Slay them as Israel slew Amalek !” cried Yeo, as he bent over; and ere the wretches could reach a place of shelter, an arrow was quivering in each body, as it rolled lifeless down the rocks. “ Now then! Loose the Indians!”. They found armorer's tools on one of the dead bodies, and it was done. “We are your friends,” said Amyas. “All we ask is, that you shall help us to carry this gold down to the Magdalena, and then you are free.” How They Took the Gold-Train 157 Mr. Oxenham and his crew; and do not make God's gift our ruin, by faithlessness, or greediness, or any mutinous haste.” “ You shall find none in us !” cried several men. “We know your worship. We can trust our general.” " Thank God !” said Amyas. “Now then, it will be no shame or sin to make the Indians carry it, saving the women, whom God forbid we should burden. But we must pass through the very heart of the Spanish settlements, and by the town of Saint Martha itself. So the clothes and weapons of these Spaniards we must have, let it cost us what labor it may. How many lie in the road ?” “ Thirteen here, and about ten up above,” said Cary. " Then there are near twenty missing. Who will vol- unteer to go down over cliff, and bring up the spoil of them?” “I, and I, and I;” and a dozen stepped out, as they did always when Amyas wanted anything done; for the simple reason, that they knew that he meant to help at the doing of it himself. “ Very well, then, follow me. Sir John, take the Indian lad for your interpreter, and try and comfort the souls of these poor heathens. Tell them that they shall all be free.” “Why, who is that comes up the road ?” All eyes were turned in the direction of which he spoke. And, wonder of wonders ! up came none other than Ayacanora herself, blow-gun in hand, bow on back, and bedecked in all her feather garments, which last were rather the worse for a fortnight's woodland travel. 158 The Book of Adventure All stood mute with astonishment, as, seeing Amyas, she uttered a cry of joy, quickened her pace into a run, and at last fell panting and exhausted at his feet. “I have found you !” she said; “ you ran away from me, but you could not escape me!” And she fawned round Amyas, like a dog who has found his master, and then sat down on the bank, and burst into wild sobs. “God help us !” said Amyas, clutching his hair, as he looked down upon the beautiful weeper. “What am I to do with her, over and above all these poor heathens ?” But there was no time to be lost, and over the cliff he scrambled ; while the girl, seeing that the main body of the English remained, sat down on a point of rock to watch him. After half-an-hour's hard work, the weapons, clothes, and armor of the fallen Spaniards were hauled up the cliff, and distributed in bundles among the men; the rest of the corpses were thrown over the precipice, and they started again upon their road toward the Magda- lena, while Yeo snorted like a war-horse who smells the battle, at the delight of once more handling powder and ball. “We can face the world now, sir! Why not go back and try Santa Fé, after all ?” But Amyas thought that enough was as good as a feast, and they held on downwards, while the slaves followed, without a sign of gratitude, but meekly obedi- ent to their new masters, and testifying now and then by a sign or a grunt, their surprise at not being beaten, or made to carry their captors. Some, however, caught 2 How They Took the Gold-Train 159 ain sight of the little calabashes of coca which the English carried. That woke them from their torpor, and they began coaxing abjectly (and not in vain) for a taste of that miraculous herb, which would not only make food unnecessary, and enable their panting lungs to endure that keen mountain air; but would rid them, for awhile at least, of the fallen Indian's most unpitying foe, the malady of thought. As the cavalcade turned the corner of the mountain, they paused for one last look at the scene of that fear- ful triumph. Lines of vultures were already streaming out of infinite space, as if created suddenly for the occasion. A few hours and there would be no trace of that fierce fray, but a few white bones amid untrodden beds of flowers. And now Amyas had time to ask Ayacanora the meaning of this her strange appearance. He wished her anywhere but where she was: but now that she was here, what heart could be so hard as not to take pity on the poor wild thing? And Amyas as he spoke to her had, perhaps, a tenderness in his tone, from very fear of hurting her, which he had never used before. Passionately she told him how she had followed on their track day and night, and had every evening made sounds, as loud as she dared, in hopes of their hearing her, and either waiting for her, or coming back to see what caused the noise. Amyas now recollected the strange roaring which had followed them. “Noises ? What did you make them with ?”. Ayacanora lifted her finger with an air of most self- satisfied mystery; and then drew cautiously from TO 160 The Book of Adventure under her feather cloak an object at which Amyas had hard work to keep his countenance. 6 Look !” whispered she, as if half afraid that the thing itself should hear her. “I have it — the holy trumpet!” There it was verily, that mysterious bone of conten- tion; a handsome earthen tube some two feet long, neatly glazed, and painted with quaint grecques and figures of animals; a relic evidently of some civiliza- tion now extinct. Brimblecombe rubbed his little fat hands. “Brave maid! you have cheated Satan this time,” quoth he; while Yeo advised that the “idolatrous relic” should be forthwith “hove over cliff.” “Let be,” said Amyas. “What is the meaning of this, Ayacanora ? And why have you followed us ?” She told a long story, from which Amyas picked up, as far as he could understand her, that that trumpet had been for years the torment of her life; the one thing in the tribe superior to her; the one thing which she was not allowed to see, because, forsooth, she was a woman. So she determined to show them that a woman was as good as a man; and hence her hatred of marriage, and her Amazonian exploits. But still the Piache would not show her that trumpet, or tell her where it was: and as for going to seek it, even she feared the superstitious wrath of the tribe at such a profanation. But the day after the English went, the Piache chose to express his joy at their departure; whereon, as was to be expected, a fresh explosion between master and pupil, which ended, she confessed, in her burning the old rogue's hut over his head, from How They Took the Gold-Train 161 which he escaped with loss of all his conjuring-tackle, and fled raging into the woods, vowing that he would carry off the trumpet to the neighboring tribe. Whereon, by a sudden impulse, the young lady took plenty of coca, her weapons, and her feathers, started on his trail, and ran him to earth just as he was un- veiling the precious mystery. At which sight (she confessed) she was horribly afraid, and half inclined to run: but, gathering courage from the thought that the white men used to laugh at the whole matter, she rushed upon the hapless conjurer, and bore off her prize in triumph ; and there it was! “I hope you have not killed him ?” said Amyas. “I did beat him a little; but I thought you would not let me kill him.” Amyas was half amused with her confession of his authority over her: but she went on, — “ And then I dare not go back to the Indians; so I was forced to come after you.” “And is that, then, your only reason for coming after us?” asked stupid Amyas. He had touched some secret chord — though what it was he was too busy to inquire. The girl drew herself up proudly, blushing scarlet, and said — “ You never tell lies. Do you think that I would tell lies ?” On which she fell to the rear, and followed them steadfastly, speaking to no one, but evidently deter- mined to follow them to the world's end. They soon left the high road; and for several days held on downwards, hewing their path slowly and painfully through the thick underwood. On the even- sev 162 The Book of Adventure See ing of the fourth day, they had reached the margin of a river, at a point where it seemed broad and still enough for navigation. For those three days they had not seen a trace of human beings, and the spot seemed lonely enough for them to encamp without fear of dis- covery, and begin the making of their canoes. They began to spread themselves along the stream, in search of the soft-wooded trees proper for their purpose; but hardly had their search begun, when, in the midst of a dense thicket, they came upon a sight which filled them with astonishment. Beneath a honeycombed cliff, which supported one enormous cotton-tree, was a spot of some thirty yards square sloping down to the stream, planted in rows with magnificent banana-plants, full twelve feet high, and bearing among their huge waxy leaves clusters of ripening fruit; while, under their mellow shade, yams and cassava plants were flourishing luxuriantly, the whole being surrounded by a hedge of orange and scarlet flowers. There it lay streaked with long shadows from the setting sun, while a cool south- ern air rustled in the cotton-tree, and flapped to and fro the great banana-leaves; a tiny paradise of art and care. But where was its inhabitant ? Aroused by the noise of their approach, a figure. issued from a cave in the rocks, and, after gazing at them for a moment, came down the garden towards them. He was a tall and stately old man, whose snow- white beard and hair covered his chest and shoulders, while his lower limbs were wrapt in Indian-web. Slowly and solemnly he approached, a staff in one hand, a string of beads in the other, the living likeness of some old Hebrew prophet, or anchorite of ancient How They Took the Gold-Train 163 legend. He bowed courteously to Amyas (who of course returned his salute), and was in act to speak, when his eye fell upon the Indians, who were laying down their burdens in a heap under the trees. His mild countenance assumed instantly an expression of the acutest sorrow and displeasure; and, striking his hands together, he spoke in Spanish — “ Alas! miserable me! Alas! unhappy Señors! Do my old eyes deceive me, and is it one of those evil visions of the past which haunt my dreams by night: or has the accursed thirst of gold, the ruin of my race, penetrated even into this my solitude ? Oh, Señors, Señors, know you not that you bear with you your own poison, your own familiar fiend, the root of every evil ? And is it not enough for you, Señors, to load yourselves with the wedge of Achan, and partake his doom, but you must make these hapless heathens the victims of your greed and cruelty, and forestall for them on earth those torments which may await their unbaptized souls hereafter ?” “We have preserved, and not enslaved these Indians, ancient Señor,” said Amyas proudly ; “ and to-morrow will see them as free as the birds over our heads.” “ Free? Then you cannot be countrymen of mine! But pardon an old man, my son, if he has spoken too hastily in the bitterness of his own experience. But who and whence are you? And why are you bringing into this lonely wilderness that gold — for I know too well the shape of those accursed packets, which would God that I had never seen!” “What we are, reverend sir, matters little, as long as we behave to you as the young should to the old. ( 164 The Book of Adventure As for our gold, it will be a curse or a blessing to us, I conceive, just as we use it well or ill; and so is a man's head, or his hand, or any other thing; but that is no reason for cutting off his limbs for fear of doing harm with them ; neither is it for throwing away those packages, which, by your leave, we shall deposit in one of these caves. We must be your neighbors, I fear, for a day or two; but I can promise you, that your garden shall be respected on condition that you do not inform any human soul of our being here.” “God forbid, Señor, that I should try to increase the number of my visitors, much less to bring hither strife and blood, of which I have seen too much already. As you have come in peace, in peace depart. Leave me alone with God and my penitence, and may the Lord have mercy on you!” And he was about to withdraw, when, recollecting himself, he turned suddenly to Amyas again – “Pardon me, Señor, if, after forty years of utter soli- tude, I shrink at first from the conversation of human beings, and forget, in the habitual shyness of a recluse, the duties of a hospitable gentleman of Spain. My garden, and all which it produces, is at your service. Only let me entreat that these poor Indians shall have their share; for heathens though they be, Christ died for them; and I cannot but cherish in my soul some secret hope that He did not die in vain.” “ God forbid !” said Brimblecombe. « They are no worse than we, for aught I see, whatsoever their fathers may have been; and they have fared no worse than we since they have been with us, nor will, I promise you.” How They Took the Gold-Train 165 The good fellow did not tell that he had been starv- ing himself for the last three days to cram the children with his own rations; and that the sailors, and even Amyas, had been going out of their way every five minutes, to get fruit for their new pets. A camp was soon formed ; and that evening the old hermit asked Amyas, Cary, and Brimblecombe to come up into his cavern. They went; and after the accustomed compliments had passed, sat down on mats upon the ground, while the old man stood, leaning against a slab of stone sur- mounted by a rude wooden cross, which evidently served him as a place of prayer. He seemed restless and anxious, as if he waited for them to begin the con- versation; while they, in their turn, waited for him. At last, when courtesy would not allow him to be silent any longer, be began with a faltering voice, — “ You may be equally surprised, Señors, at my pres- ence in such a spot, and at my asking you to become my guests even for one evening, while I have no better hospitality to offer you.” “It is superfluous, Señor, to offer us food in your own habitation when you have already put all that you pos- sess at our command.” “True, Señors; and my motive for inviting you was, perhaps, somewhat of a selfish one. I am possessed by a longing to unburthen my heart of a tale which I never yet told man, and which I fear can give you nothing but pain ; and yet I will entreat you, of your courtesy, to hear of that which you cannot amend, simply in mercy to a man who feels that he must confess to some one, or die as miserable as he has lived. And I believe 166 The Book of Adventure my confidence will not be misplaced, when it is bestowed upon you. ... You, cavaliers, I perceive to be noble, from your very looks; to be valiant, by your mere pres- ence in this hostile land; and to be gentle, courteous, and prudent, by your conduct this day to me and to your captives. Will you, then, hear an old man's tale ? I am, as you see, full of words; for speech, from long disuse, is difficult to me, and I fear at every sentence lest my stiffened tongue should play the traitor to my worn-out brain : but if my request seems impertinent, you have only to bid me talk as a host should, of mat- ters which concern his guests, and not himself.” The three young men, equally surprised and interested by this exordium, could only entreat their host to “use their ears as those of his slaves," on which, after fresh apologies, he began — “Know, then, victorious cavaliers, that I, whom you now see here as a poor hermit, was formerly one of the foremost of that terrible band who went with Pizarro to the conquest of Peru. Eighty years old am I this day, unless the calendar which I have carved upon yon- der tree deceives me; and twenty years old was I when I sailed with that fierce man from Panama, to do that deed withi which all earth, and heaven, and hell itself, I fear, has rung. How we endured, suffered, and triumphed; how, mad with success, and glutted with blood, we turned our swords against each other, I need not tell to you. For what gentleman of Europe knows not our glory and our shame?” His hearers bowed assent. “ Yes; you have heard of our prowess : for glorious we were awhile, in the sight of God and man. But I How They Took the Gold-Train 167 will not speak of our glory, for it is tarnished; nor of our wealth, for it was our poison; nor of the sins of my comrades, for they have expiated them ; but of my own sins, Señors, which are more in number than the hairs of my head, and a burden too great to bear. Miserere Domine!” And smiting on his breast, the old warrior went on “ As I said, we were mad with blood; and none more mad than I. Surely it is no fable that men are pos- sessed, even in this latter age, by devils. Why else did I rejoice in slaying ? Why else was I, the son of a noble and truthful cavalier of Castile, amongst the foremost to urge upon my general the murder of the Inca ? Why did I rejoice over his dying agonies ? Why, when Don Ferdinando de Soto returned, and up- braided us with our villany, did I, instead of confessing the sin which that noble cavalier set before us, with- stand him to his face, ay, and would have drawn the sword on him, but that he refused to fight a liar, as he said that I was?” “ Then Don de Soto was against the murder ? So his own grandson told me. But I had heard of him only as a tyrant and a butcher.” “Señor, he was compact of good and evil, as are other men: he has paid dearly for his sin ; let us hope that he has been paid in turn for his righteousness." John Brimblecombe shook his head at this doctrine, but did not speak. “ So you know his grandson ? I trust he is a noble cavalier ?” Amyas was silent; the old gentleman saw that he had touched some sore point, and continued — men 168 The Book of Adventure “And why, again, Señors, did I after that day give myself up to cruelty as to a sport; yea, thought that I did God service by destroying the creatures whom He had made; I who now dare not destroy a gnat, lest I harm a being more righteous than myself? Was I mad ? If I was, how then was I all that while as prudent as I am this day? But I am not here to argue, Señors, but to confess. In a word, there was no deed of blood done for the next few years in which I had not my share, if it were but within my reach. When Challcuchima was burned, I was consenting ; when that fair girl, the wife of Inca Manco, was tortured to death, I smiled at the agonies at which she too smiled, and taunted on the soldiers, to try if I could wring one groan from her before she died. You know what followed, the pillage, the violence, the indignities offered to the virgins of the Sun. Señors, I will not pollute your chaste ears with what was done. But, Señors, I had a brother." And the old man paused awhile. “A brother — whether better or worse than me, God knows, before whom he has appeared ere now. At least he did not, as I did, end as a rebel to his king! There was a maiden in one of those convents, Señors, more beautiful than day: and (I blush to tell it) the two brothers of whom I spoke quarrelled for the pos- session of her. They struck each other, Señors! Who struck first I know not; but swords were drawn, and - The cavaliers round parted them, crying shame. And one of those two brothers — the one who speaks to you now — crying, “If I cannot have her, no man shall !' turned the sword which was aimed at his brother, against that hapless maiden -- and — How They Took the Gold-Train 169 On Curse hear me out, Señors, before you flee from my presence as from that of a monster ! — stabbed her to the heart. And as she died — one moment more, Señors, that I may confess all ! — she looked up in my face with a smile as of heaven, and thanked me for having rid her once and for all from Christians and their villany." The old man paused. “ God forgive you, Señor!” said Jack Brimblecombe softly. “ You do not, then, turn from me? Do not curse me? Then I will try you farther still, Señors. I will know from human lips, whether man can do such deeds as I have done, and yet be pitied by his kind; that so I may have some hope, that where man has mercy, God may have mercy also. Do you think that I repented at those awful words ? Nothing less, Señors all. No more than I did when De Soto (on whose soul God have mercy) called me— me, a liar! I knew myself a sinner; and for that very reason I was determined to sin. I would go on, that I might prove myself right to myself, by showing that I could go on, and not be struck dead from heaven. Out of mere pride, Señors, and self-will, I would fill up the cup of my iniquity; and I filled it. “ You know, doubtless, Señors, how, after the death of old Almagro, his son's party conspired against Pizarro. Now my brother remained faithful to his old commander; and for that very reason, if you will believe it, did I join the opposite party, and gave myself up, body and soul, to do Almagro's work. It was enough for me, that the brother who had struck me thought a man right, for me to think that man 170 The Book of Adventure a devil. What Almagro's work was, you know. He slew Pizarro. Murdered him, Señors, like a dog, or rather, like an old lion.” “He deserved his doom,” said Amyas. “Let God judge him, Señor, not we; and least of all of us I, who drew the first blood, and perhaps the last, that day. I, Señors, it was who treacherously stabbed Francisco de Chanes on the staircase, and so opened the door which else had foiled us all; and I— but I am speaking to men of honor, not to butchers. Suffice it that the old man died like a lion, and that we pulled him down, young as we were, like curs. “Well, I followed Almagro's fortunes. I helped to slay Alvarado. Call that my third murder, if you will, for if he was a traitor to a traitor, I was traitor to a true man. Then to the war; you know how Vaca de Castro was sent from Spain to bring order and justice where was nought but chaos, and the dance of all devils. We met him on the hills of Chupas. Peter of Candia, the Venetian villain, pointed our guns false, and Almagro stabbed him to the heart. We charged with our lances, man against man, horse against horse. All fights I ever fought ” (and the old man's eyes flashed out the ancient fire) “were child's play to that day. Our lances shivered like reeds, and we fell on with battle-axe and mace. None asked for quarter, and none gave it; friend to friend, cousin to cousin — no, nor brother, oh God! to brother. We were the better armed: but numbers were on their side. Fat Carbajal charged our cannon like an elephant, and took them; but Holguin was shot down. I was with Almagro, and we swept all before us, inch by inch, but surely, till re was ar S were How They Took the Gold-Train 171 the night fell. Then Vaca de Castro, the licentiate, the clerk, the schoolman, the man of books, came down on us with his reserve like a whirlwind. Oh! cavaliers, did not God fight against us, when He let us, the men of iron, us, the heroes of Cuzco and Vilcaconga, be foiled by a scholar in a black gown, with a pen behind his ear? We were beaten. Some ran; some did not run, Señors; and I did not. Geronimo de Alvarado shouted to me, 'We slew Pizarro! We killed the tyrant !' and we rushed upon the conquerors' lances, to die like cava- liers. There was a gallant gentleman in front of me. His lance struck me in the crest, and bore me over my horse's croup: but mine, Señors, struck him full in the vizor. We both went to the ground together, and the battle galloped over us. “I know not how long I lay, for I was stunned : but after a while I lifted myself. My lance was still clenched in my hand, broken, but not parted. The point of it was in my foeman's brain. I crawled to him, weary and wounded, and saw that he was a noble cavalier. He lay on his back, his arms spread wide. I knew that he was dead : but there came over me the strangest longing to see that dead man's face. Perhaps I knew him. At least I could set my foot upon it, and say, · Vanquished as I am, there lies a foe!' I caught hold of the rivets, and tore his helmet off. The moon shone bright, Señors, as bright as she shines now — the glaring, ghastly, tell-tale moon, which shows man all the sins which he tries to hide; and by the moonlight, Señors, I beheld the dead man's face. And it was the face of my brother ! 172 The Book of Adventure “ Did you ever guess, most noble cavaliers, what Cain's curse might be like? Look on me, and know ! “I tore off my armor and fled, as Cain fled— north- ward ever, till I should reach a land where the name of Spaniard, yea, and the name of Christian, which the Spaniard has caused to be blasphemed from east to west, should never come. I sank fainting, and waked beneath this rock, this tree, forty-four years ago, and I have never left them since, save once to obtain seeds from Indians, who knew not that I was a Spanish Con- quistador. And may God have mercy on my soul!” That day Amyas assembled the Indians, and told them that they must obey the hermit as their king, and settle there as best they could : for if they broke up and wandered away, nothing was left for them but to fall one by one into the hands of the Spaniards. They heard him with their usual melancholy and stupid acquiescence, and went and came as they were bid, like animated machines; but the Negroes were of a different temper; and four or five stout fellows gave Amyas to understand that they had been warriors in their own country, and that warriors they would be still; and nothing should keep them from Spaniard-hunting Amyas saw that the presence of these desperadoes in the new colony would both endanger the authority of the hermit, and bring the Spaniards down upon it in a few weeks; so, making a virtue of a necessity, he asked them whether they would go Spaniard-hunting with him. This was just what the bold Coromantees wished for; they grinned and shouted their delight at serving under 174 The Book of Adventure wider and wider, her bosom swelling, her stature seem- ing to grow taller every moment, as she clenched her weapons firmly in both her hands. Beautiful as she always was, she had never looked so beautiful before; and as Amyas spoke of parting with her, it was like throwing away a lovely toy ; but it must be done, for her sake, for his, perhaps for that of all the crew. The last words had hardly passed his lips, when, with a shriek of mingled scorn, rage, and fear, she dashed through the astonished group. “Stop her!” were Amyas's first words; but his next were, “Let her go!” for, springing like a deer through the little garden, and over the flower-fence she turned, menacing with her blow-gun the sailors, who had already started in her pursuit. “Let her alone, for Heaven's sake!” shouted Amyas, who, he scarce knew why, shrank from the thought of seeing those graceful limbs struggling in the seamen's grasp. She turned again, and in another minute her gaudy plumes had vanished among the dark forest stems, as swiftly as if she had been a passing bird. All stood thunderstruck at this unexpected end to the conference. At last Amyas spoke — “There's no use in standing here idle, gentlemen. Staring after her won't bring her back. After all, I'm glad she's gone.” But the tone of his voice belied his words. Now he had lost her, he wanted her back; and perhaps every one present, except he, guessed why. But Ayacanora did not return; and ten days more seam W How They Took the Gold-Train 175 We went on in continual toil at the canoes without any news of her from the hunters. Amyas, by the by, had strictly bidden these last not to follow the girl, not even to speak to her, if they came across her in their wanderings. He was shrewd enough to guess that the only way to cure her sulkiness was to outsulk her; but there was no sign of her presence in any direction ; and the canoes being finished at last, the gold and such provisions as they could collect were placed on board, and one evening the party prepared for their fresh voyage. They determined to travel as much as possible by night, for fear of discovery, especially in the neighborhood of the few Spanish settlements which were then scattered along the banks of the main stream. These, however, the negroes knew, so that there was no fear of coming on them unawares ; and as for falling asleep in their night journeys, “ Nobody,” the negroes said, “ever slept on the Magdalena; the mosquitoes took too good care of that.” Which fact Amyas and his crew verified afterwards as thoroughly as wretched men could do. The sun had sunk; the night had all but fallen; the men were all on board; Amyas in command of one canoe, Cary of the other. The Indians were grouped on the bank, watching the party with their listless stare, and with them the young guide, who preferred remain- ing among the Indians, and was made supremely happy by the present of a Spanish sword and an English axe; while, in the midst, the old hermit, with tears in his eyes, prayed God's blessing on them. “I owe to you, noble cavaliers, new peace, new labor, I may say, new life. May God be with you, and teach 176 The Book of Adventure CV . 2015 you to use your gold and your swords better than I used mine.” The adventurers waved their hands to him. “ Give way, men,” cried Amyas; and as he spoke the paddles dashed into the water, to a right English hurrah! which sent the birds fluttering from their roosts, and was answered by the yell of a hundred monkeys, and the distant roar of the jaguar. About twenty yards below, a wooded rock, some ten feet high, hung over the stream. The river was not there more than fifteen yards broad; deep near the rock, shal- low on the farther side; and Amyas's canoe led the way, within ten feet of = the stone. As he passed, a dark figure leapt from the bushes on the edge and plunged heavily into the water close to the boat. All started. A jaguar? No; he would not have missed so short a spring. What, then ? A human being ? A head rose panting to the surface, and with a few strong strokes, the swimmer had clutched the gunwale. It was Ayacanora ! “Go back!” shouted Amyas. “Go back, girl!” WW We How They Took the Gold-Train 177 m She uttered the same wild cry with which she had fled into the forest. “I will die, then !” and she threw up her arms. Another moment, and she had sunk. To see her perish before his eyes! who could bear that? Her hands alone were above the surface. Amyas caught convulsively at her in the darkness, and seized her wrist. A yell rose from the negroes : a roar from the crews as from a cage of lions. There was a rush and a swirl along the surface of the stream; and “Caiman! cai- man!” shouted twenty voices. Now, or never, for the strong arm ! « To larboard, men, or over we go ! ” cried Amyas, and with one huge heave, he lifted the slender body upon the gunwale. Her lower limbs were still in the water, when, within arm's length, rose above the stream a huge muzzle. The lower jaw lay flat, the upper reached as high as Amyas's head. He could see the long fangs gleam white in the moonshine ; he could see for one moment, full down the monstrous depths of that great gape, which would have crushed a buffalo. Three inches, and no more, from that soft side, the snout surged up — There was the gleam of an axe from above, a sharp ringing blow, and the jaws came together with a clash which rang from bank to bank. He had missed her! Swerving beneath the blow, his snout had passed beneath her body, and smashed up against the side of the canoe, as the striker, overbalanced, fell headlong overboard upon the monster's back. 66 Who is it?” “ Yeo !” shouted a dozen. 178 The Book of Adventure Man and beast went down together, and where they sank, the moonlight shone on a great swirling eddy, while all held their breaths, and Ayacanora cowered down into the bottom of the canoe, her proud spirit utterly broken, for the first time, by the terror of that great need, and by a bitter loss. For in the struggle, the holy trumpet, companion of all her wanderings, had fallen from her bosom ; and her fond hope of bringing magic prosperity to her English friends had sunk with it to the bottom of the stream. None heeded her; not even Amyas, round whose knees she clung, fawning like a spaniel dog: for where was Yeo? Another swirl ; a shout from the canoe abreast of them, and Yeo rose, having dived clean under his own boat, and risen between the two. “Safe as yet, lads! Heave me a line, or he'll have me after all.” But ere the brute reappeared, the old man was safe on board. “ The Lord has stood by me,” panted he, as he shot the water from his ears. “We went down together: I knew the Indian trick, and being uppermost, had my thumbs in his eyes before he could turn: but he carried me down to the very mud. My breath was nigh gone, so I left go, and struck up: but my toes tingled as I rose again, I'll warrant. There the beggar is, looking for me, I declare!” And, true enough, there was the huge brute swim- ming slowly round and round, in search of his lost victim. It was too dark to put an arrow into his eye; so they paddled on, while Ayacanora crouched silently at Amyas's feet. How They Took the Gold-Train 179 “ Yeo !” asked he, in a low voice, “ what shall we do with her ?” “Why ask me, sir?” said the old man, as he had a very good right to ask. “Because, when one don't know oneself, one had best inquire of one's elders. Because you saved her life at the risk of your own, and have a right to a voice in the matter, if any one has, old friend.” “Then, my dear young captain, if the Lord puts a precious soul under your care, don't you refuse to bear the burden He lays on you.” Amyas was silent awhile; while Ayacanora, who was evidently utterly exhausted by the night's adven- ture, and probably by long wanderings, watchings, and weepings, which had gone before it, sank with her head against his knee, fell fast asleep, and breathed as gently as a child. W n- THE SETTLERS IlL luck had befallen the Campbells, a family of English settlers whose story is graphically told by Cap- tain Marryat. They were living on the Canadian shore of Lake Ontario. Percival Campbell had been lost in the woods and was believed to have perished. In reality he had been captured by Angry Snake and his band of Indians. About a year later the same band carried off Mary Percival, the lad's cousin. Immediately her rela- tives formed a rescuing party, composed of her two cousins, Alfred and John; Captain Sinclair, her lover, with some soldiers ; Malachi Bone, the old hunter, trapper and guide; and Martin Soper, a brave young hunter, with the Strawberry, his Indian wife. They followed a trail marked here and there by blazes of broken twigs, the work of a friendly squaw in the Indian party. At last the searchers came upon this poor creature herself, whom Angry Snake had detected at this work. She was lying where the Indians had left her, bleeding from a tomahawk wound in her head. The settlers bound up the hurt, and in return she offered to guide them to the Indian lodges, a day's march beyond. She assured them of Mary's safety, and told them also of Percival. The boy had become almost an Indian, was a great favorite of Angry Snake, who was ready to adopt him and bequeath him the chieftainship of the tribe. This information made the party all the more eager to advance; but as the Indian woman could not be moved immediately they were forced to wait. 180 RESCUED FROM THE INDIANS (From The Settlers.) BY CAPTAIN F. MARRYAT. cure TT was a great annoyance to Captain Sinclair to have to wait in this manner, but there was no help for it. . . . They were glad, however, to find that the Indian woman recovered rapidly, and on the fifth day she said that she was able to travel if they walked slowly. It was therefore agreed that on the sixth day they should start again, and they did so, having saved their salt provisions, that they might not be compelled to stop, or use their rifles to procure food. ... They continued their route till the sixth day, when as they drew up for the night, the Indian stated that they were only three or four miles from the Indians' lodges, which they sought. It was agreed that they should be guided by the Indian woman to a spot where they might be concealed, as pear as possible to the lodges, and that when the party had arrived there, that the woman and Malachi should go and reconnoitre, to ascertain whether the chief and his band with Mary Percival had returned or not. ... Long before 181 Rescued from the Indians 183 In about half an hour afterwards, Malachi and the Indian woman returned; they had crept in the brush- wood to within fifty yards of the lodges, but were afraid to go nearer, as the woman said that perhaps the dogs might give the alarm ; for two of them were left at home. ... The Indian force was nothing – an old man, one lad of twenty, and four women. These might be easily captured and secured, but the question was whether it would be desirable so to do, as in case one should by any means escape, information of their arrival might be conveyed to the absent party, and in- duce them not to come home with Mary Percival. This question was debated in a low tone between Malachi, Captain Sinclair, and Alfred. At last John interrupted them by saying, “ They are going out to hunt, the old and the young Indian and Percival — they have all their bows and arrows." « The boy is right,” said Malachi. “Well, I consider this to decide the question. We can now capture the men without the women knowing anything about it. They will not expect them home till the evening, and even if they do not come, they will not be surprised or alarmed; so now we had better let them go some way, and then follow them. ... Malachi explained their intentions to the Indian woman, who approved of them, but said, “ The Old Raven (referring to the old Indian), is very cunning; you must be careful.” The party remained in their place of concealment for another quarter of an hour, till the two Indians and Percival had quitted the open space before the lodges, and had entered the woods. They then followed in a WV UO 184 The Book of Adventure parallel direction, Malachi and John going a-head: Martin and Alfred following so as to keep them in sight, and the remainder of the party at about the same distance behind Martin and Alfred. They continued in this manner their course through the woods for more than an hour, when a herd of deer darted past Malachi and John. They immediately stopped, and crouched, to hide themselves. Martin and Alfred perceiving this, followed their example, and the rest of the party behind, at the motion of the Strawberry, did the same. Hardly had they done so, when one of the herd, which had been pierced by an arrow, followed in the direction of the rest, and after a few bounds fell to the earth. A minute or two afterwards the hunters made their ap- pearance, and stood by the expiring beast, where they remained for a minute or two talking, and then took out their knives to flay and cut it up. While they were thus employed, Malachi and John on one side, Alfred and Martin from another direction, and the rest of the party from a third, were creeping slowly up towards them ; but to surround them completely it was neces- sary that the main party should divide, and send one or two more to the eastward. Captain Sinclair de- spatched Graves and one of the soldiers, desiring them to creep very softly till they arrived at a spot he pointed out, and then to wait for the signal to be given. As the parties gradually approached nearer and nearer to the Indians and Percival, the Old Raven appeared to be uneasy, he looked round and round him, and once or twice laid his ear to the ground; whenever he did this, they all stopped, and almost held their breaths. Rescued from the Indians 185 “ The Indian woman says that the Old Raven is sus- picious; he is sure that some one is in the woods near him, and she thinks that she had better go to him," said the Strawberry to Captain Sinclair. “Let her go,” said Captain Sinclair. The Indian rose, and walked up in the direction of the Indians, who immediately turned to her as she approached. She spoke to them, and appeared to be telling them how it was that she returned. At all events, she occupied the attention of the Old Raven till the parties were close to them, when Malachi arose, and immediately all the others did the same, and rushed upon them. After a short and useless struggle, they were secured, but not before the younger Indian had wounded one of the soldiers, by stabbing him with his knife. The thongs were already fast round the arms and legs of the Indians, when Percival, who had not been tied, again attempted to escape, and, by the direc- tion of Malachi, he was bound, as well as the other two. As soon as the prisoners were secured, Martin and Graves and the soldiers employed themselves cutting up the venison and preparing it for dinner, while the Strawberry and the Indian woman were collecting wood for a fire. In the meanwhile Captain Sinclair, Alfred, Malachi, and John were seated by the prisoners, and directing their attention to Percival, whom they had been compelled to bind, that he might not make his escape; for his sojourn of nearly two years in the woods with the Indians, without seeing the face of a white man had (as has been invariably proved to be the fact in every instance where the parties were very TP Rescued from the Indians 187 S & soft tones talked to him in her own tongue of his father and mother, of his cousins, and how he had been taken by the Indians when he was hunting, how his mother had wept for him, and all had lamented his loss; running on in a low musical key from one thing to another connected and associated with his former life in the settlement, and it was evident that at last he now listened with attention. The Strawberry con- tinued to talk to him thus, for more than an hour, when Alfred again addressed him, and said, “ Percival, don't you know me?” “ Yes,” replied Percival in English, “I do; you are my brother Alfred.” “ All's right now, sir,” said Malachi; “ only he must be kept fast; but the lad's coming to his senses again. The Strawberry will talk to him again by-and-by.” They then sat down to their meal; the two Indians were removed to a distance under the guard of one of the soldiers, but Percival remained with them. John sat by Percival, and cutting off a tempting bit of veni- son, held it to his mouth, saying to him, “ Percival, when we go home again, your hands shall be untied, and you shall have a rifle of your own instead of a bow and arrows; come, eat this.” This was a long speech for John, but it produced its effect, for Percival opened his mouth for the venison, and being fed by John, made a very good dinner. As soon as their meal was over, they consulted as to what steps should next be taken. The question discussed was whether they should now capture the women who were left in the lodges, or remain quiet till the Angry Snake and his party arrived. 10w 188 The Book of Adventure Malachi's opinion was as follows: — “I think we had at all events better wait till to- morrow, sir; you see, the women will not be at all surprised at the hunting party not returning for even a day or two, as they know that they will not return without game, and may not find it immediately; their absence, therefore, will create no suspicion of our being here. I think we should return to our former place of concealment, and watch their motions. There is no saying when the party with Miss Percival may return, they may have arrived while we have been away, or they may come to-morrow. It will be better, therefore, not to encumber ourselves with more prisoners unless it is necessary.” This opinion was at last assented to, and they set off, on their return to the Indian lodges. They arrived about an hour before dusk at their hiding-place, having taken the precaution to gag the two Indians for fear of their giving a whoop as notice of their capture. Per-' cival was very quiet, and had begun to talk a little with John. Scarcely had they been five minutes again concealed among the spruce fir-trees, when they heard a distant whoop from the woods on the other side of the lodges. “ They are now coming on,” said Martin ; “ that is their signal.” One of the Indian women from the lodges returned the whoop. “Yes, sir, they are coming,” said Malachi. “Pray, Captain Sinclair, be quiet and sit down; you will ruin all our plans.” “ Down, Sinclair, I beg,” said Alfred. Rescued from the Indians 189 Captain Sinclair, who was very much excited, never- theless did as he was requested. “ Oh, Alfred !” said he; “she's so near.” “ Yes, my good fellow, but if you wish her nearer, you must be pru- dent.” “ True, very true," replied Captain Sin- clair. In about half an hour more, the An- gry Snake and his s party were seen to emerge from the woods, and it was per- ceived that four of the Indians carried a litter made of branches between them. “She could walk no farther, sir,” said Malachi to Captain Sinclair; “ so they are carrying her; I told you that they would not hurt her.” “Let me once see her get out of the litter, and I shall be satisfied,” replied Captain Sin- = clair. The Indians soon were over the clearing, and stopped at one of the lodges; Mary Percival was lifted out, and was seen to walk with difficulty into the wigwam, followed by two of the Indian women. A short parley took place between the Angry Snake and the other two women, and the chief and rest of the party then went into another lodge. “All's right so far, sir," observed Malachi; "they have left her to the charge of the two women in a lodge 190 The Book of Adventure by herself, and so there will be no fear for her when we make the attack, which I think we must do very shortly, for if it is quite dark, some of them may escape, and may trouble us afterwards.” “Let us do it immediately,” said Captain Sinclair. “No, not immediately, sir ; we have yet an hour and a half daylight. We will wait one hour, for I think that as they have nothing to eat, and are pretty well tired from carrying Miss Percival, they will, in all prob- ability, go to sleep, as Indians always do. An hour hence will be the best time for us to fall upon them.” “You are right, Malachi,” replied Alfred. “Sinclair, you must curb your impatience.” “I must, I believe,” replied Captain Sinclair; “but it will be a tedious hour for me. Let us pass it away in making our arrangements; we have but six to deal with.” “And only two rifles,” replied Alfred; “so we are pretty sure of success.” “We must watch first,” said Martin, “ to see if they all continue in the same lodge, for if they divide, we must arrange accordingly. Who will remain with the prisoners ?” “I won't,” said John, in a positive manner. “ You must, John, if it is decided that you do,” said Alfred. “ Better not, sir," replied Malachi; “for as soon as . the boy hears the crack of the rifles, he will leave his prisoners, and join us; that I'm sure of. No, sir, the Strawberry can be left with the prisoners. I'll give her my hunting-knife; that will be sufficient.” They remained for about half an hour more watching SU Rescued from the Indians 191 the lodges, but everything appeared quiet, and not a single person came out. Having examined the priming of the rifles, every man was directed to take up a certain position, so as to surround the buildings and support each other. John was appointed to the office of looking after his cousin Mary, and preventing the women from escaping with her from the lodge in which she was confined ; and John took this office willingly, as he considered it one of importance, although it had been given him more with a view that he might not be exposed to danger. Leaving the prisoners to the charge of the Strawberry, who, with her knife drawn, stood over them, ready to act upon the slightest attempt of escape on their part, the whole party now crept safely towards the lodges, by the same path as had been taken by Malachi and the Indian woman. As soon as they had all arrived, they waited for a few minutes, while Malachi reconnoitred, and when they perceived that he did so, they all rose up and hastened to their allotted stations round the lodge into which the Angry Snake and his followers had entered. The Indians appeared to be asleep, for everything remained quiet. “ Let us first lead Miss Percival away to a place of safety," whispered Captain Sinclair. “Do you do it then,” said Alfred; “ there are plenty of us without you.” Captain Sinclair hastened to the lodge in which Miss Percival had been placed, and opened the door. Mary Percival, as soon as she beheld Captain Sinclair, uttered a loud scream of delight, and, rising from the skins on which she had been laid, fell upon his neck. Captain Sinclair caught her in his arms, and was bearing her 192 The Book of Adventure out of the lodge, when an Indian woman caught him by the coat; but John, who had entered, putting the muzzle of his rifle into their faces, they let go and re- treated, and Captain Sinclair bore away Mary in his arms into the brushwood, where the Strawberry was standing over the Indian prisoners. The scream of Mary Percival had roused the Indians, who, after their exhaustion and privations, were in a sound sleep; but still no movement was to be heard in the lodge, and a debate, between Malachi and Alfred, whether they should enter the lodge or not, was put an end to by a rifle being fired from the lodge, and the fall of one of the soldiers, who was next to Alfred. Another shot followed, and Martin received a bullet in his shoulder, and then out bounded the Angry Snake, fol- lowed by his band, the chief whirling his tomahawk, and springing upon Malachi, while the others attacked Alfred and Martin, who were nearest to the door of the lodge. The rifle of Malachi met the breast of the Angry Snake as he advanced, and the contents were discharged through his body. The other Indians fought desperately, but the whole of the attacking party clos- ing in, they were overpowered. Only two of them, however, were taken alive, and these were seriously wounded. They were tied and laid on the ground. “He was a bad man, sir," said Malachi, who was standing over the body of the Indian chief; “but he will do no more mischief.” “ Are you much hurt, Martin?” inquired Alfred. “No, sir, not much; the ball has passed right through and touched no bone; so I am in luck. I'll go to the Strawberry, and get her to bind it up.” “ AND THEN OUT BOUNDED THE ANGRY SNAKE, FollowED BY His Band.” Rescued from the Indians 193 “He is quite dead, sir,” said Graves, who was kneel- -ing by the side of the soldier who had been shot by the first rifle. “Poor fellow !” exclaimed Alfred. “Well, I'm not sorry that they commenced the attack upon us; for I do not know whether I could have used my rifle unless they had done so.” “ They never expected quarter, sir,” said Malachi. “I suppose not. Now, what are we to do with the women? They can do no harm.” “ Not much, sir; but, at all events, we must put it out of their power. We must take possession of all the weapons we can find in the lodges. We have their two rifles ; but we must collect all the bows and arrows, tomahawks and knives, and either destroy or keep possession of them. John, will you look to that? Take Graves with you.” “Yes,” replied John, who, with Graves, immediately commenced his search of the lodges. The two women, who had been in the lodge with Mary Percival, had remained where they were, as John's rifle had kept them from leaving the lodge ; but the other two had escaped into the woods during the affray. This was of little consequence ; indeed, the others were told that they might go away, if they would; and, as soon as they heard this from Malachi, they followed the ex- ample of their companions. John and Graves brought out all the arms they could find, and Malachi and Alfred then went to the bushes to which Mary Percival and Sinclair had previously retired. Alfred embraced his cousin, who was still too greatly agitated to say much, being almost overpowered by the sudden transition in S . 194 The Book of Adventure 0 as all her thoughts and feelings : — and, in the variety of her emotions, perhaps the most bewildering was that occasioned by the reappearance of Percival, — like a restoration from the dead. Alfred was in consultation with Malachi, when he perceived the flames bursting out of the lodges. Martin, as soon as his wound was dressed, had returned and set fire to them. “It's all right, sir,” said Malachi; “it will leave the proof of our victory, and be a caution to other Indians.” “ But what will become of the women ?” “ They will join some other band, sir, and tell the story. It is better that they should.” “ And our prisoners, what shall we do with them?” “Release them; by-and-by we shall have nothing to fear from them ; but we will first take them two or three days' march into the woods, in case they have alliance with any other band whom they might call to their assistance.” “ And the wounded Indians ?” “ Must be left to Providence, sir. We cannot take them. We will leave them provisions and water. The women will come back and find them ; if they are alive, they will look after them; if dead, bury them. But here comes John, with some bears' skins, which he has saved for Miss Mary ; that was thoughtful of the boy. As soon as the flames are down, we will take up our quarters in the clearing, and set a watch for the night; and to-morrow, with the help of God, we will commence our journey back. We shall bring joy to your father and mother, and the sooner we do it the better; for they must be anything but comfortable at our long absence.” Rescued from the Indians 195 lore a ION “ Yes,” said Mary Percival ; " what a state of sus- pense they must be in! Truly, as the Bible saith, “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.'” Not one of the party slept much on this night. There was much to do, and much to be looked after. Captain Sinclair, as it may be supposed, was fully occupied with Mary Percival, of whom more anon. As soon as they had taken up their position in the clearing, and made arrangements for the accommodation of Mary, they relieved the Strawberry from her charge of the prisoners, whom they brought to the clearing, and made to sit down close to them. Percival, who had not yet been freed from his bonds, was now untied, and suffered to walk about, one of the men keeping close to him, and watching him carefully. The first object which caught his eye was the body of the Angry Snake. Percival looked on it for some time, and then sat down by the side of it. There he remained for more than two hours without speaking, when a hole having been dug out by one of the party, the body was put in and covered up. Percival remained a few minutes by the side of the grave, and then turned to the two wounded Indians. He brought them water, and spoke to them in the Indian tongue; but while he was still with them, Mary sent for him to speak with him, for as yet she had scarcely seen him. The sight of Mary appeared to have a powerful effect upon the boy; he listened to her as she soothed and caressed him, and appearing to be overcome with a variety of sensations, he lay down, moaned, and at last fell fast asleep. The soldier who had been shot by the Angry Snake was buried before they buried the chief. Martin's wound 196 The Book of Adventure had been dressed by his wife, the Strawberry, who was very skilful in Indian surgery. She had previously applied cataplasms made from the bruised leaves which she and the Indian woman had sought for, to the feet of Mary Percival, which were in a great state of inflam- mation, and Mary had found herself already much re- lieved by the application. Before the day dawned, the two Indians who had been wounded, were dead, and were immediately buried by the side of the chief. Alfred and Malachi had resolved to set off the next morning on their return home, if they found it possible to convey Mary Percival; but their party was now reduced, as one of the soldiers had been killed, and Martin was incapable of service. The Indian woman would also be fully loaded with the extra rifles, the two which they had captured from the Indians, the one be- longing to the soldier, and Martin's, who could not carry anything in his present state. They were now only six effective men, as John could not be of much use in carrying, and, moreover, was appointed to watch Percival. Then they had the two prisoners to take charge of, so that they were some- what embarrassed. Malachi, however, proposed that they should make a litter of boughs, welded together very tight, and suspended on a pole, so as to be carried between two men. Mary Percival was not a very great weight, and by relieving each other continually, they would be able to get some miles every day, till Mary was well enough to walk with them. Alfred assented to this, and as soon as it was daylight went into the woods with Malachi, to assist him in cutting the boughs. On their return, they found that all the rest Rescued from the Indians 197 of the party were up, and that Mary felt little or no pain. They made their breakfast on their salt provis- ions, which were now nearly expended, and as soon as their meal was over, they put Mary upon the litter and set off, taking the Indian prisoners with them, as they thought it not yet advisable to give them their liberty. The first day they made but a few miles, as they were obliged to stop, that they might procure some food. The party were left under a large tree, which was a good land-mark, under the charge of Captain Sinclair, while Malachi and Alfred went in search of game. At nightfall they returned with a deer which they had killed, when the Strawberry informed them that the Indian woman had told her, that about two miles to the southward there was a river which ran into the lake, and that there were two canoes belonging to the band, hauled up in the bushes on the beach ; that the river was broad and swift, and would soon take them to the lake, by the shores of which they could paddle the canoe to the settlement. This appeared worthy of consideration, as it would in the end, perhaps, save time, and at all events allow Mary Percival to recover. They decided that they would go to the river, and take the canoes, as the Indian woman said that they were large enough to hold them all. The next morning, guided by the Indian woman, they set off in the direction of the river, and arrived at it in the afternoon. They found the canoes, which were large, and in good order, and having carried them down to the beach, they resolved to put off their em- barkation till the following day, as they were again in want of provisions for their subsistence. Alfred, Rescued from the Indians 199 or perceive any lodges on the bank. Sometimes they started the deer which had come down to drink in the stream, and on one occasion, as they rounded a point, they fell in with a herd which were in the water swim- ming across, and in this position they destroyed as many as they required for their food till they hoped to arrive at the settlement. Percival was now quite reconciled to his removal from an Indian life, and appeared most anxious to rejoin his father and mother, of whom he talked inces- santly; for he had again recovered his English, which, strange to say, although he perfectly understood it when spoken to, he had almost forgotten to pronounce, and at first spoke with difficulty. The weather was remarkably fine, and the waters of the lake were so smooth, that they made rapid progress, although they invariably disembarked at night. The only annoyance they had was from the mosquitoes, which rose in clouds as soon as they landed, and were not to be dispersed until they had lighted a very large fire, accompanied with thick smoke; but this was a trifle compared with their joy at the happy deliverance of the prisoners, and success of their expedition. Most grateful, indeed, were they to God for his mercies, and none more so than Mary Percival and Captain Sinclair, who never left her side till it was time to retire to rest. On the sixth day, in the forenoon, they were delighted to perceive Fort Frontignac in the distance, and although the house at the settlement was hid from their sight by the point covered with wood which intervened, they knew that they were not above four or five miles dis- tant. In less than another hour, they were abreast of 200 The Book of Adventure in the prairie, and landed at the spot where their own punt was moored. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell had not perceived the canoes, for although anxiously looking out every day for the return of the party, their eyes and attention were directed on land, not having any idea of their return by water. “My dear Alfred,” said Mary, “I do not think it will be prudent to let my aunt see Percival at once ; we must prepare her a little for his appearance. She has so long considered him as dead, that the shock may be too great.” 6 You say true, my dear Mary. Then we will go forward with Captain Sinclair, and Malachi, and John. Let Percival be put in the middle of the remainder of the party, who must follow afterwards, and then be taken up to Malachi's lodge. He can remain there with the Strawberry until we come and fetch him.” Having made this arrangement, to which Percival was with difficulty made to agree, they walked up, as proposed, to the house. Outside of the palisade, they perceived Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, with their backs towards them, looking towards the forest, in the direc- tion which the party had taken when they left. But when they were half-way from the beach, Henry came out with Oscar from the cottage, and the dog immedi- ately perceiving them, bounded to them, barking with delight. Henry cried out, “Father — mother, here they are, — here they come.” Mr. and Mrs. Campbell of course turned round, and beheld the party advan- cing; they flew to meet them, and as they caught Mary in their arms, all explanation was for a time unneces- arr Rescued from ans O the Indians 201 sary — she was recovered, and that was sufficient for the time. “ Come, mother, let us go into the house, that you may compose yourself a little,” said Alfred, - that she might not perceive Percival among the party that fol- lowed at a little distance. “Let me support you. Take my arm.” Mrs. Campbell, who trembled very much, did so, and thus turned away from the group among whom Perci- val was walking. Emma was looking at them atten- tively, and was about to exclaim, when Captain Sinclair put his finger to his lips. As soon as they arrived at the house, and had gone in, Alfred, in a few words, gave them an account of what had passed — how successful they had been in their attempt, and how little they had to fear from the Indians in future. “How grateful I am !” exclaimed Mrs. Campbell. “ God be praised for all his mercies! I was fearful that I should have lost you, my dear Mary, as well as my poor boy. He is lost forever — but God's will be done.” " It is very strange, mother,” said Alfred, “ but we heard, on our journey, that the Indians had found a white boy in the woods." “ Alas! not mine.” “I have reason to believe that it was Percival, my dear mother, and have hopes that he is yet alive.” “My dear Alfred, do not say so unless you have good cause ; you little know the yearnings of a mother's heart; the very suggestion of such a hope has thrown me into a state of agitation and nervousness of which 202 The Book of Adventure you can form no conception. I have been reconciled to the divine will ; let me not return to a state of anxiety and repining.” “Do you think, my dear mother, that I would raise such hopes if I had not good reason to suppose that they would be realized ? No, my dear mother, I am not so cruel.” “ Then you know that Percival is alive,” said Mrs. Campbell, seizing Alfred by the arm. “ Calm yourself, my dear mother, I do know- I am certain that he is alive, and that it was he who was found by the Indians; and I have great hopes that we may recover him.” “God grant it! God grant it in his great mercy!” said Mrs. Campbell, “my heart is almost breaking with joy: may God sustain me! Oh, where is — my dear Alfred — where is he?” continued Mrs. Campbell. Alfred made no reply, but a flood of tears came to her relief. “I will explain it to you when you are more com- posed, my dear mother. Emma, you have not said one word to me.” “I have been too much overjoyed to speak, Alfred,” replied Emma, extending her hand to Alfred, “but no one welcomes your return more sincerely than I do, and no one is more grateful to you for having brought Mary back.” “Now, Alfred, I am calm,” said Mrs. Campbell, “ let me hear at once all you know.” “I see you are calm, my dear mother, and I there fore now tell you that Percival is not far off.” “ Alfred ! he is here; I am sure he is.” Rescued from the Indians 203 “ He is with Malachi and the Strawberry; in a min. ute I will bring him.” Alfred left the house: the intelligence was almost too overpowering for Mrs. Campbell. Mary and Emma hastened to her, and supported her. In another minute Alfred returned with Percival, and the mother em- braced and wept over her long lost child, and then gave him to his father's arms. “How this has happened, and by what merciful in- terference he has been preserved and restored to us,” said Mr. Campbell, when their first emotions were over, “we have yet to learn; but one thing we do know, and are sure of, that it is by the goodness of God alone. Let us return our thanks while our hearts are yet warm with gratitude and love, and may our thanksgivings be graciously received.” Mr. Campbell knelt down, and his example was fol- lowed by all the rest of the party assembled. In a fervent tone he returned thanks for the recent mercies vouchsafed to his family, which, he expressed a hope, would never be forgotten, but would prove a powerful inducement to them all, to lead a more devout life of faith in him who had so graciously supported them in the hour of peril and affliction, — who had so wonder- fully restored to them their lost treasures, and tumed all their gloom into sunshine, — filling their hearts with joy and gladness. “And now, my dear Alfred,” said Mrs. Campbell, whose arms still encircled the neck of Percival, “ do pray tell us what has taken place and how you re- covered Mary and this dear boy?”. Alfred then entered into his detail, first stating the W 204 The Book of Adventure knowledge which Captain Sinclair, Malachi, and himself had of Percival being still in existence from the letter written by the Indian woman, — the seizure and con- finement of the Young Otter in consequence, which was retaliated by the abduction of Mary. When he had finished, Mr. Campbell said — “And poor Martin, where is he, that I may thank him ?” “He is at his own lodge, with the Strawberry, who is dressing his wound; for we have not been able to do so for two or three days, and it has become very painful.” “We owe him a large debt of gratitude,” said Mr. Campbell ; “ he has suffered much on our account. And your poor man, Captain Sinclair, who fell !” “ Yes,” replied Sinclair,“ he was one of our best men - but it was the will of Heaven. He lost his life in the recovery of my dear Mary, and I shall not forget his wife and child, you may depend upon it.” “Now, Mary, let us have your narrative of what passed when you were in the company of the Indians, before your rescue.” “I was, as you know, gathering the cranberries in the Cedar Swamp, when I was suddenly seized, and something was thrust against my mouth, so that I had no time or power to cry out. My head was then wrapt up in some folds of blanket, by which I was almost suffocated, and I was then lifted up and borne away by two or three men. For a time I kept my senses, but at last the suffocation was so great, that my head swam, and I believe I fainted, for I do not recollect being put down; yet after a time I found myself lying under a 206 The Book of Adventure night came on, when I was, as you may imagine, not a little tired. They then left me with the Indian woman, retiring a few yards from me. The woman made signs that I was to sleep, and although I thought that was impossible, I was so much fatigued that, after putting up my prayers to the Almighty, I had not lain down many minutes before I was fast asleep. “Before daylight, I was awakened by their voices, and the woman brought me a handful of parched Indian corn; not quite so good a breakfast as I had been accus- tomed to; but I was hungry, and I contrived to eat it. As soon as the day broke we set off again, and towards evening arrived at a lake. A canoe was brought out from some bushes; we all got into it, and paddled up along the banks for two or three hours, when we disem- barked and renewed our journey. My feet were now becoming very sore and painful, for they were blistered all over, and I could scarcely get along; they compelled me, however, to proceed, not using any great force, but still dragging me and pushing me, to make me keep up with them. I soon perceived that I was a prisoner only, and not likely to be ill-treated if I complied with their wishes. Towards evening I could hardly put one foot before the other, for they had obliged me to walk in the water of a stream for two or three miles, and my shoes were quite worn out in consequence. At night they again stopped, and the Indian woman prepared some herbs, and applied them to my feet. This gave me great relief, but still she continued to take no notice of any signs I made to her. The next morning I found I had received so much benefit from the application of the herbs, that for the first half of the day I walked on 208 The Book of Adventure hours; however, hunger I never felt, I had too much pain. I was able to drag myself on till about noon, when I felt that I could not proceed farther. I stopped and sat down ; the chief ordered me to get up again by signs; I pointed to my feet, which were now swelled above the ankles, but he insisted, and raised his toma- hawk to frighten me into compliance. I was so worn out, that I could have almost received the blow with thankfulness, but I remembered you, my dear uncle and aunt and others, and resolved for your sakes to make one more effort. I did so; I ran and walked for an hour more in perfect agony; at last nature could sup- port the pain no longer, and I fell insensible.” “My poor Mary!” exclaimed Emma. “ I thought of you often and often, my dear sister,” replied Mary, kissing her. “I believe it was a long while before I came to my senses,” continued Mary, “ for when I did, I found that the Indians were very busy weaving branches into a sort of litter. As soon as they had finished, they put me upon it, and I was carried by two of them swinging on a pole which they put on their shoulders. I need hardly say, that the journey was now more agreeable than it was before, although my feet were in a dread- ful state, and gave me much pain. That night we stopped by a rivulet, and I kept my feet in the water for two or three hours, which brought down the inflam- mation and swelling very much, and I contrived after that to gain some sleep. They carried me one more day, when they considered that they had done enough, and I was again ordered to walk ; I did so for two days, and was then in the same condition as before. A litter Rescued from the Indians 209 was therefore again constructed, and I was carried till I arrived at the lodges of the Angry Snake and his band. What passed from that time you have heard from Alfred.” When Mary Percival had finished her narrative, they all sat down to supper, and it hardly need be said that Mr. Campbell did not fail, before they retired to rest, again to pour forth his thanksgivings to the Almighty for the preservation of those who were so dear. The next morning, they all rose in health and spirits. Martin came early to the house with the Strawberry; his wound was much better, and he received the thanks and condolence of Mr. and Mrs. Campbell. When they were at breakfast, Mr. Campbell said, “ John, in our joy at seeing your brother and cousin again, I quite forgot to scold you for running away as you did.” “ Then don't do it now, sir,” said Malachi, “ for he was very useful, I can assure you.” “No I won't scold him now,” replied Mr. Campbell; “ but he must not act so another time. If he had con- fided to me his anxious wish to join you, I should prob- ably have given my permission.” “I must now take my leave, and return to the fort,” said Captain Sinclair; “I do, bowever, trust I shall see you all again in a few days, but I must report the results of the expedition, and the death of poor Watkins. May I borrow one of your horses, Mr. Campbell ? ” . . “ Certainly," replied Mr. Campbell ; “ you know the bateau is expected every day from Montreal; perhaps you will bring us our letters when it arrives.” Tas 210 The Book of Adventure Captain Sinclair took his leave, as it may be imagined, very reluctantly, and in a day or two the family again settled down to their usual occupations. The emigrants had, during the absence of the expedition, gathered in a great portion of the corn, and now all hands were em- ployed in finishing the harvest. “How happy we are now, Mary,” said Emma to her sister, as they were walking by the stream, watching John, who was catching trout. “Yes, my dear Emma, we have had a lesson which will, I trust, prevent any future repining, if we have felt any, at our present position. The misery we have been rescued from has shown us how much we have to be thankful for. We have nothing more to fear from the Indians, and I feel as if I could now pass the remainder of my life here in peace and thank- fulness.” “ Not without Captain Sinclair.” “Not always without him; the time will, I trust, come when I may reward him for his patience and his regard for me; but it has not yet come; and it's for my uncle and aunt to decide when it shall. Where's Percival ?” “He is gone into the woods with Malachi, and with a rifle on his shoulder, of which he is not a little proud. John is not at all jealous. He says that Percival ought to know how to fire a rifle, and throw away that foolish bow and arrows. Do you not think that his residence among the Indians has made a great charige in Percival ?” “A very great one; he is more manly and more taci- turn; be appears to think more and talk less. But Henry Rescued from the Indians 211 is beckoning to us. Dinner is ready, and we must not keep hungry people waiting.” “No,” replied Emma; “ for in that case I should keep myself waiting." THE ESCAPE (FROM TYPEE.) BY HERMANN MELVILLE. EARLY three weeks had elapsed since the second visit of Marnoo, and it must have been more than four months since I entered the valley, when one day about noon, and whilst everything was in profound silence, Mow-Mow, the one-eyed chief, suddenly appeared at the door, and leaning forward towards me as I lay directly facing him, said in a low tone, “ Toby pemi ena” (Toby has arrived here). Gracious heaven! What a tumult of emotions rushed upon me at this startling intelligence ! Insensible to the pain that had before distracted me, I leaped to my feet, and called wildly to Kory-Kory, who was reposing by my side. The startled islanders sprang from their mats; the news was quickly communicated to them; and the next moment I was making my way to the Ti on the back of Kory-Kory, and surrounded by the excited savages. 212 The Escape 213 All that I could comprehend of the particulars which Mow-Mow rehearsed to his auditors as we proceeded, was that my long-lost companion had arrived in a boat which had just entered the bay. These tidings made me most anxious to be carried at once to the sea, lest some untoward circumstance should prevent our meet- ing; but to this they would not consent, and continued their course towards the royal abode. As we ap- proached it, Mehevi and several chiefs showed them- selves from the piazza, and called upon us loudly to come to them. As soon as we had approached, I endeavored to make them understand that I was going down to the sea to meet Toby. To this the king objected, and motioned Kory-Kory to bring me into the house. It was in vain to resist; and in a few moments I found myself within the Ti, surrounded by a noisy group engaged in dis- cussing the recent intelligence. Toby's name was frequently repeated, coupled with violent exclamations of astonishment. It seemed as if they yet remained in doubt with regard to the fact of his arrival, and at every fresh report that was brought from the shore they betrayed the liveliest emotions. Almost frenzied at being held in this state of sus- pense, I passionately besought Mehevi to permit me to proceed. Whether my companion had arrived or not, I felt a presentiment that my own fate was about to be decided. Again and again I renewed my petition to Mehevi. He regarded me with a fixed and serious eye, but at length yielding to my importunity, reluctantly granted my request. Accompanied by some fifty of the natives, I now 214 The Book of Adventure rapidly continued my journey; every few moments being transferred from the back of one to another, and urging my bearer forward all the while with earnest entreaties. As I thus hurried forward, no doubt as to the truth of the information I had received ever crossed my mind. I was alive only to the one overwhelming idea, that a chance of deliverance was now afforded me, if the jealous opposition of the savages could be over- come. Having been prohibited from approaching the sea during the whole of my stay in the valley, I had always associated with it the idea of escape. Toby too — if indeed he had ever voluntarily deserted me — must have effected his flight by the sea ; and now that I was drawing near to it myself, I indulged in hopes which I had never felt before. It was evident that a boat had entered the bay, and I saw little reason to doubt the truth of the report that it had brought my companion. Every time, therefore, that we gained an elevation, I looked eagerly around, hoping to behold him. In the midst of an excited throng, who by their vio- lent gestures and wild cries appeared to be under the influence of some excitement as strong as my own, I was now borne along at a rapid trot, frequently stoop- ing my head to avoid the branches which crossed the path, and never ceasing to implore those who carried me to accelerate their already swift pace. In this manner we had proceeded about four or five miles, when we were met by a party of some twenty islanders, between whom and those who accompanied me ensued an animated conference. Impatient of the delay occasioned by this interruption, I was beseeching The Escape 215 the man who carried me to proceed without his loiter- ing companions, when Kory-Kory, running to my side, informed me, in three fatal words, that the news had all proved false — that Toby had not arrived — “ Toby owlee pemi.” Heaven only knows how, in the state of mind and body I then was, I ever sustained the agony which this intelligence caused me: not that the news was altogether unexpected; but I had trusted that the fact might not have been made known until we should have arrived upon the beach. As it was, I at once fore- saw the course the savages would pursue. They had only yielded thus far to my entreaties, that I might give a joyful welcome to my long-absent comrade ; but now that it was known he had not arrived, they would at once oblige me to turn back. My anticipations were but too correct. In spite of the resistance I made, they carried me into a house which was near the spot, and left me upon the mats. Shortly afterwards several of those who had accompa- nied me from the Ti, detaching themselves from the others, proceeded in the direction of the sea. Those who remained — among whom were Marheyo, Mow-Mow, Kory-Kory, and Tinor — gathered about the dwelling and appeared to be awaiting their return. This convinced me that strangers — perhaps some of my own countrymen — had for some cause or other en- tered the bay. Distracted at the idea of their vicinity, and reckless of the pain which I suffered, I heeded not the assurances of the islanders, that there were no boats at the beach, but starting to my feet endeavored to gain the door. Instantly the passage was blocked up by several men, who commanded me to resume my seat. 216 The Book of Adventure, The fierce looks of the irritated savages admonished me that I could gain nothing by force, and that it was by entreaty alone that I could hope to compass my object. Guided by this consideration, I turned to Mow-Mow, the only chief present whom I had been much in the habit of seeing, and carefully concealing my real de- sign, tried to make him comprehend that I still believed Toby to have arrived on the shore, and besought him to allow me to go forward to welcome him. To all his repeated assertions, that my companion had not been seen, I pretended to turn a deaf ear: while I urged my solicitations with an eloquence of gesture which the one-eyed chief appeared unable to resist. He seemed indeed to regard me as a froward child, to whose wishes he had not the heart to oppose force, and whom he must consequently humor. He spoke a few words to the natives, who at once retreated from the door, and immediately passed out of the house. Here I looked earnestly round for Kory-Kory; but that hitherto faithful servitor was nowhere to be seen. Unwilling to linger even for a single instant when every moment might be so important, I motioned to a muscular fellow near me to take me upon his back : to my surprise he angrily refused. I turned to another, but with a like result. A third attempt was as unsuc- cessful, and I immediately perceived what had induced Mow-Mow to grant my request and why the other na- tives conducted themselves in so strange a manner. It was evident that the chief had only given me liberty to continue my progress towards the sea because he sup- posed that I was deprived of the means of reaching it. Convinced by this of their determination to retain me The Escape 217 a captive, I became desperate; and almost insensible to the pain which I suffered, I seized a spear which was leaning against the projecting eaves of the house, and supporting myself with it, resumed the path that swept by the dwelling. To my surprise I was suffered to pro- ceed alone, all the natives remaining in front of the house, and engaging in earnest conversation, which every moment became more loud and vehement; and to my unspeakable delight I perceived that some differ- ence of opinion had arisen between them; that two parties, in short, were formed, and consequently that in their divided counsels there was some chance of my deliverance. Before I had proceeded a hundred yards I was again surrounded by the savages, who were still in all the heat of argument, and appeared every moment as if they would come to blows. In the midst of this tumult old Marheyo came to my side, and I shall never for- get the benevolent expression of his countenance. He placed his arm upon my shoulder, and emphatically pronounced the only two English words I had taught him — “Home” and “Mother.” I at once understood what he meant, and eagerly expressed my thanks to him. Fayaway and Kory-Kory were by his side, both weeping violently; and it was not until the old man had twice repeated the command that his son could bring himself to obey him, and take me again upon his back. The one-eyed chief opposed his doing so, but he was over-ruled, and, as it seemed to me, by some of his own party. We proceeded onwards, and never shall I forget the ecstasy I felt when I first heard the roar of the surf 218 The Book of Adventure breaking upon the beach. Before long I saw the flash- ing billows themselves through the opening between the trees. Oh glorious sight and sound of ocean! with what rapture did I hail you as familiar friends! By this time the shouts of the crowd upon the beach were distinctly audible, and in the blended confusion of sounds I almost fancied I could distinguish the voices of my own countrymen. When we reached the open space which lay between the groves and the sea, the first object that met my view was an English whale-boat, lying with her bow pointed from the shore, and only a few fathoms distant from it. It was manned by five islanders, dressed in short tunics of calico. My first impression was that they were in the very act of pulling out from the bay; and that, after all my exertions, I had come too late. My soul sunk within me: but a second glance convinced me that the boat was only hanging off to keep out of the surf; and the next moment I heard my own name shouted out by a voice from the midst of the crowd. Looking in the direction of the sound, I perceived, to my indescribable joy, the tall figure of Karakoee, an Oahu Kanaka, who had often been aboard the Dolly, while she lay in Nukuheva. He wore the green shoot- ing-jacket with gilt buttons, which had been given to him by an officer of the Reine Blanche — the French flag-ship — and in which I had always seen him dressed. I now remembered the Kanaka had frequently told me that his person was tabooed in all the valleys of the island, and the sight of him at such a moment as this filled my heart with a tumult of delight. Karakoee stood near the edge of the water with a The Escape 219 large roll of cotton cloth thrown over one arm, and holding two or three canvas bags of powder; while with the other hand he grasped a musket, which he appeared to be proffering to several of the chiefs around him. But they turned with disgust from his offers, and seemed to be impatient at his presence, with vehement gestures waving him off to his boat, and commanding him to depart. The Kanaka, however, still maintained his ground, and I at once perceived that he was seeking to purchase my freedom. Animated by the idea, I called upon him loudly to come to me; but he replied, in broken Eng- lish, that the islanders had threatened to pierce him with their spears, if he stirred a foot toward me. At this time I was still advancing, surrounded by a dense throng of the natives, several of whom had their hands upon me, and more than one javelin was threateningly pointed at me. Still I perceived clearly that many of those least friendly towards me looked irresolute and anxious. I was still some thirty yards from Karakoee when my farther progress was prevented by the natives, who compelled me to sit down upon the ground, while they still retained their hold upon my arms. The din and tumult now became tenfold, and I perceived that sev- eral of the priests were on the spot, all of whom were evidently urging Mow-Mow and the other chiefs to prevent my departure; and the detestable word “ Roo- ne! Roo-ne!” which I had heard repeated a thousand times during the day, was now shouted out on every side of me. Still I saw that the Kanaka continued his exertions in my favor — that he was boldly debating a 220 The Book of Adventure the matter with the savages, and was striving to entice them by displaying his cloth and powder, and snapping the lock of his musket. But all he said or did appeared only to augment the clamors of those around him, who seemed bent upon driving him into the sea. When I remembered the extravagant value placed by these people upon the articles which were offered to them in exchange for me, and which were so indig- nantly rejected, I saw a new proof of the same fixed determination of purpose they had all along manifested with regard to me, and in despair, and reckless of con- sequences, I exerted all my strength, and shaking my- self free from the grasp of those who held me, I sprung upon my feet and rushed towards Karakoee. The rash attempt nearly decided my fate; for, fear- ful that I might slip from them, several of the islanders now raised a simultaneous shout, and pressing upon Karakoee, they menaced him with furious gestures, and actually forced him into the sea. Appalled at their violence, the poor fellow, standing nearly to the waist in the surf, endeavored to pacify them; but at length, fearful that they would do him some fatal violence, he. beckoned to his comrades to pull in at once, and take him into the boat. It was at this agonizing moment, when I thought all hope was ended, that a new contest arose between the two parties who had accompanied me to the shore; blows were struck, wounds were given, and blood flowed. In the interest excited by the fray, every one had left me except Marheyo, Kory-Kory, and poor dear Fayaway, who clung to me, sobbing indignantly. I saw that now or never was the moment. Clasping my 222 The Book of Adventure Some of the weapons passed quite as close to us as was desirable, but no one was wounded, and the men pulled away gallantly. But although soon out of the reach of the spears, our progress was extremely slow; it blew strong upon the shore, and the tide was against us; and I saw Karakoee, who was steering the boat, give many a look towards a jutting point of the bay round which we had to pass. For a minute or two after our de- parture, the savages, who had formed into different groups, re- mained perfectly motion- less and silent. All at once the enraged chief showed by his ges- tures that he had resolved what course he would take. Shouting loudly to his companions, and pointing with his tomahawk toward the headland, he set off at full speed in that direction, and was followed by about thirty of the natives, among whom were several of the priests, all yelling out “ Roo-ne! Roo-ne !” at the very top of their voices. Their intention was evi- dently to swim off from the headland and interrupt us The Escape 223 SW in our course. The wind was freshening every minute, and was right in our teeth, and it was one of those chopping angry seas in which it is so difficult to row. Still the chances seemed in our favor, but when we came within a hundred yards of the point, the active savages were already dashing into the water, and we all feared that within five minutes' time we should have a score of the infuriated wretches around us. If so, our doom was sealed, for these savages, unlike the feeble swimmers of civilized countries, are, if anything, more formidable antagonists in the water than when on the land. It was all a trial of strength; our natives pulled till their oars bent again, and the crowd of swimmers shot through the water, despite its roughness, with fearful rapidity. By the time we had reached the headland, the sav- ages were spread right across our course. Our rowers got out their knives and held them ready between their teeth, and I seized the boat-hook. We were well aware that if they succeeded in intercepting us they would practise upon us the manoeuvre which has proved so fatal to many a boat's crew in these seas. They would grapple the oars, and seizing hold of the gunwale, cap- size the boat, and then we should be entirely at their mercy. After a few breathless moments I discerned Mow- Mow. The athletic islander, with his tomahawk be- tween his teeth, was dashing the water before him till it foamed again. He was the nearest to us, and in another instant he would have seized one of the oars. Even at the moment I felt horror at the act I was about to commit; but it was no time for pity or com- 224 The Book of Adventure punction, and with a true aim, and exerting all my strength, I dashed the boat-hook at him. It struck him just below the throat, and forced him downwards. I had no time to repeat my blow, but I saw him rise to the surface in the wake of the boat, and never shall I forget the ferocious expression of his countenance. Only one other of the savages reached the boat. He seized the gunwale, but the knives of our rowers so mauled his wrists, that he was forced to quit his hold, and the next minute we were past them all, and in safety. The strong excitement which had thus far kept me up, now left me, and I fell back fainting into the arms of Karakoee. 226 The Book of Adventure le across first to try its strength, followed by the first division, then came Cortés with the baggage and artil- lery, but before he was well over, a sound was heard as of a stormy wind rising in a forest. Nearer and nearer it came, and from the dark waters of the lake rose the plashing noise of many oars. Then a few stones and arrows fell at random among the hurrying troops, to be followed by more and more, ever thicker and faster, till they became a terrible blinding storm, while the air was rent with the yells and war-cries of the enemy, who seemed to be swarming in myriads over land and lake. The Spaniards pushed on steadily, though the Mexi- cans, dashing their canoes against the sides of the causeway, clambered up and broke in upon their ranks. The soldiers, anxious only to make their escape, simply shook them off, or rode over them, or with their guns and swords drove them headlong down the sides of the dyke again. But the advance of such a body of men necessarily took time, and the leading files had already reached the second gap in the causeway before those in the rear had cleared the first. They were forced to halt, though severely harassed by the fire from the canoes, which clustered thickly round this opening, and many were the urgent messages which were sent to the rear, to hurry up the bridge. But when it was at length clear, and Magarino and his sturdy followers endeavored to raise it, they found to their horror that the weight of the artillery and the horses passing over it had jammed it firmly into the sides of the dyke, and it was absolutely immovable. Not till many of his men were slain and all wounded did Magarino abandon the V The March to Mexico 227 attempt, and then the dreadful tidings spread rapidly from man to man, and a cry of despair arose. All means of retreat were cut off ; they were held as in a trap. Order and disci- pline were at an end, for no one could hope to escape except by his own des- perate ex- ertions Those behind pressed forward, tram- pling the weak and wounded under foot, heeding not friend or foe. Those in front were forced over the edge of the gulf, across which some of the cavaliers succeeded in swim- ming their horses, but many failed, or rolled back into the lake in attempting to ascend the opposite bank. The infantry followed pell-mell, heaped one upon the other, frequently pierced by the Aztec arrows, or struck down by their clubs, and dragged into the canoes to be reserved for a more dreadful death. All along the causeway the battle raged fiercely. The Mexicans clambered continually up the sides of the dyke, and grappled with the Spaniards, till they rolled together down into the canoes. But while the Aztec fell among friends, his unhappy antagonist was secured, and borne away in triumph to the sacrifice. 228 The Book of Adventure ses The struggle was long and deadly, but by degrees the opening in the causeway was filled up by the wreck of the wagons, guns, rich bales of stuffs, chests of solid ingots, and bodies of men and horses which had fallen into it; and over this dismal ruin those in the rear were able to reach the other side. Cortés had found a place that was fordable, and, halting half-way across, had vainly endeavored to check the confusion, and lead his followers safely to the opposite bank. But his voice was lost in the wild uproar; and at length, attended by a few trusty cavaliers, he pushed forward to the front. Here he found Sandoval and his compan- ions, halting before the last breach, trying to cheer on the soldiers to attempt the crossing ; but, though not so beset with enemies as the last, it was wide and deep, and the men's resolution failed them. Again the cavaliers set the example, by plunging into the lake. Horse and foot followed, swimming or clinging to the manes and tails of the horses. Those fared best, as the general had predicted, who travelled lightest, and many were the unfortunate wretches, who, weighed down by the fatal treasure, were buried with it at the bottom of the lake. Cortés, with a few others, still kept in advance, leading the miserable remnant off the causeway. The din of battle was growing faint in the distance, when the rumor reached them that, without speedy succor, the rear guard must be utterly overwhelmed. It seemed a desperate venture, but the cavaliers, without thinking of the danger, turned their horses, and galloped back to the relief of their comrades. Swimming the canal again, they threw themselves into the thick of the fray. The first gleam of morning light showed the hideous The March to Mexico 229 no а confusion of the scene; the masses of combatants upon the dyke were struggling till the very causeway seemed to rock, while as far as the eye could see, the lake was covered with a dense crowd of canoes full of warriors. The cavaliers found Alvarado unhorsed, and, with a mere handful of followers, defending himself against an overwhelming tide of the enemy, who by this time possessed the whole rear of the causeway, and received constant reinforcements from the city. The Spanish artillery, which had done good service at first, had been overthrown, and utterly confounded by the rush from the back. In the general ruin, Cortés strove by a resolute charge to give his countrymen time to rally, but it was only for a moment: they were speedily borne down by the returning rush. The general and his companions were forced to plunge into the lake once more, though with their numbers reduced this time, and Alvarado stood for an instant upon the brink, uncertain what to do. There was no time to be lost. He was a tall and powerful man. Setting his long lance firmly on the wreck which strewed the lake, he gave a mighty leap which landed him in safety upon the opposite bank. Aztecs and Tlascalans looked on in amazement at this almost incredible feat, and a general shout arose. « This is truly Tonatiuh-the Child of the Sun.” To this day, the place is called “ Alvarado's Leap.” Cortés now rode to the front, where the troops were straggling miserably off the fatal causeway. Most fortunately, the attention of the Aztecs was diverted by the rich spoil that strewed the ground, and their pursuit ceased, so that the Spaniards passed unmolested through the vil- lage of Popotla. There the Spanish commander dis- W COMM 230 The Book of Adventure P mounted from his weary steed, and sitting down on the steps of an Indian temple, looked mournfully on while the broken files dragged slowly past. It was a piteous spectacle. The cavalry, many of them dismounted, were mingled with the infantry, their shattered mail dripping with the salt ooze, and showing through its rents many a ghastly wound; their firearms, banners, baggage, artillery, everything was gone. Cortés, as he looked sadly on their thin, dis- ordered ranks, sought in vain many a familiar face, and missed more than one trusty com- rade who had stood by his side through all the perils of the conquest; and accus- tomed as he was to conceal his emotions, he could bear it no longer, but covered his face with his hands, while he wept tears of anguish. It was, however, some consolation to him that Marina had been carried safely though the awful night by her faithful guards. Aguilar was also alive, and Martin Lopez, who had built two boats for him in Mexico, as well as Alvarado, Arila, Sandoval, Olid, and Ordaz. But this was no time to give way to vain regrets. The March to Mexico 231 Cortés hastily mounted again and led his men as speedily as possible through Tlacopan, and, as soon as he reached the open country, endeavored to bring his disorganized battalions into something like order. The broken army, half starved, moved slowly towards the coast. On the seventh morning the army reached the mountain range which overlooks the plains of Otumba. All the day before, parties of the enemy had hovered round, crying vindictively, “ Hasten on. You will soon find yourselves where you cannot escape!” Now, as they climbed the steep hillside, Cortés realized what this meant, for his scouts came back reporting that a powerful body of Aztecs was encamped upon the other side waiting for them; and truly enough, when they looked down into the valley, they saw it filled with a mighty host of warriors who had been gathered together by Cuitlahua, and stationed at this point to dispute the passage of the Spaniards. Every chief of importance had taken the field with his whole array. As far as the eye could reach extended a moving mass of glittering shields and spears, mingled with the ban- ners and bright feather-mail of the caciques, and the white cotton robes of their followers. It was a sight to dismay the stoutest heart among the Spaniards, and even Cortés felt that his last hour was come. But since to escape was impossible, he disposed his little army to the best advantage, and prepared to cut his way through the enemy or perish in the attempt. He gave his force as broad a front as possible, protecting it on each flank with his cavalry, now reduced to twenty horsemen, who were instructed to direct their long lances at the faces of the enemy, and on no account to lose their hold 232 The Book of Adventure of them. The infantry were to thrust, not strike, with their swords, and above all to make for the leaders of the enemy, and then, after a few brave words of encour- agement, he and his little band began to descend the hill, rushing, as it seemed, to certain destruction. The enemy met them with the usual storm of stones and arrows, but when the Spaniards closed with them, their superiority became apparent, and the natives were thrown into confusion by their own numbers as they fell back from the charge. The infantry followed up their advantage, and a wide lane was opened in the ranks of the enemy, who receded on all sides as if to allow them a free passage. But it was only to return with fresh fury, and soon the little army was entirely surrounded, standing firmly, protected on all sides by its bristling swords and lances, like an island in the midst of a raging sea. In spite of many gallant deeds and desperate struggles, the Spaniards found themselves, at the end of several hours, only more deeply wedged in by the dense masses of the enemy. Cortés had received another wound, in the head, his horse had fallen under him, and he had been obliged to mount one taken from the baggage train. The fiery rays of the sun poured down upon the nearly exhausted sol- diers, who were beginning to despair and give way, while the enemy, constantly re-enforced from the rear, pressed on with redoubled fury. At this critical mo- ment, the eagle eye of Cortés, ever on the watch for any chance of arresting the coming ruin, descried in the distance a chief, who, from his dress and surroundings, he knew must be the commander of the Aztec forces. He wore a rich surcoat of feather-work, and a gorgeous The March to Mexico 233 na plume of jewelled feathers floated from his helmet, while above this, and attached to his back between the shoulders, showed a golden net fastened to a short staff — the customary symbol of authority for an Aztec commander. Turning quickly round to Sandoval, Olid, Alvarado, and Avila, who surrounded him, he cried, pointing to the chief, “ There is our mark! Follow and support me!” And shouting his war-cry he plunged into the thickest of the press. Taken by sur- prise the enemy fell back; those who could not escape were trampled under his horse's feet, or pierced by his . long lance; the cavaliers followed him closely; in a few minutes they were close to the Aztec chief, and Cortés hurled him to the ground with one stroke from his lance; a young cavalier named Juan de Salamanca hastily dismounted and slew him where he lay, and tearing away his banner presented it to the Spanish general. The cacique's guard, overpow- ered by this sud- Prezi den onset, fled precipi- tately, and their panic spread to the other Indi- ans, who, on hearing of the death of their chief, fought no more, but thought only of escape. In their blind terror they impeded and trampled down their own comrades, and the Spaniards, 234 The Book of Adventure availing themselves fully of the marvellous turn affairs had taken, pursued them off the field, and then returned to secure the rich booty they had left behind them. Cortés reached Tlascala in safety, and at once began to prepare his revenge on the Mexicans, aided by re- inforcements of a few Spaniards from Vera Cruz. Gun- powder had also to be manufactured, and a cavalier named Francio Montaño undertook the perilous task of obtaining sulphur for the purpose from the terrible volcano of Popocatepetl. He set out with four com- rades, and after some days journeying, they reached the dense forest which covered the base of the mountain, . and forcing their way upward, came by degrees to a more open region. As they neared the top the track ended, and they had to climb as best they could over the black glazed surface of the lava, which, having issued from the crater in a boiling flood, had risen into a thousand odd forms wherever it met with any obstacle, and continually impeded their progress. After this they arrived at the region of perpetual snow, which increased their difficulties, the treacherous ice giving way at every step, so that many times they narrowly escaped falling into the frozen chasms that yawned all round them. At last, however, they reached the mouth of the crater, and, crawling cau- tiously to the very edge, peered down into its gloomy depths. At the bottom of the abyss, which seemed to them to go down into the very heart of the earth, a lurid flame burned sullenly, sending up a sulphurous steam, which cooling as it rose, fell again in showers upon the sides of the cavity. Into this one of the brave explorers had to descend, and when they had ms The March to Mexico 235 AULISTA P VEIT PLE cast lots the choice fell upon Montaño himself. His preparations were soon made, and his companions lowered him in a basket into the horrible chasm to a depth of four hundred feet, and there as he hung, he scraped the sulphur from the sides of the crater, de- scending again and again until he had pro- LOL cured enough for the wants of the army, with a which they returned triumphantly to Tlas- cala. Meanwhile the construction of the ships went forward prosperously, and by Christmas, in the year 1520, there was no longer any reason to delay the march to Mexico. While all these prepara- tions were being made, some changes had taken place among the Aztecs. Cuitla- hua had suddenly died after reigning four months, and Guatemozin, his nephew, had been chosen in his stead. This young prince had married one of Montezuma's daugh- ters. He was handsome and valiant, and so terrible that his followers trembled in his presence. He had a sort of religious hatred of the Spaniards, and pre- pared manfully to meet the perils which he saw 236 The Book of Adventure . threatening his country, for by means of spies he had kept a watch upon the movements of the Spaniards, and had discovered their intention of besieging the capital. Cortés, upon reviewing his army, found that his whole force fell little short of six hundred men, of whom forty were cavalry, and eighty arquebusiers and cross-bowmen. The rest were armed with sword, tar- get, and the long copper-headed pikes, which had been made specially by the general's directions. There were also nine cannon of moderate size, but the supply of powder was but indifferent. Cortés published a code of strict regulations for the guidance of his men before they set out, and addressed them as usual, with stir- ring words, touching all the springs of devotion, honor, and ambition in their hearts, and rousing their enthu- siasm as only he could have done. His plan of action was to establish his headquarters at some place upon the Tezcuan lake, whence he could cut off the supplies from the surrounding country, and place Mexico in a state of blockade until the completion of his ships should enable him to begin a direct assault. The most difficult of the three ways into the valley was the one Cortés chose; it led right across the mountain chain, and he judged wisely that he would be less likely to be annoyed by the enemy in that direction. Before long the army halted within three leagues of Tezcuco, which you will remember was upon the opposite shore of the lake to Mexico, and somewhat farther north. Up to this time they only had had a few slight skirmishes with the Aztecs, though beacon fires had blazed upon every hill-top, showing that the country was roused. Cortés thought it very unlikely that he would be The March to Mexico 237 allowed to enter Tezcuco, which was now reigned over by Coanaco, the friend and ally of Guatemozin. But the next morning, before the troops were well under arms, came an embassy bearing a golden flag, and a gift for Cortés, and imploring him to spare Coanaco's territories, and to take up his quarters in his capital. Cortés first sternly demanded an account of the Span- iards who, while convoying treasure to the coast, had been slain by Coanaco just when Cortés himself was retreating to Tlascala. The envoys declared at once that the Mexican emperor alone was to blame; he had ordered it to be done, and had received the gold and the prisoners. They then urged that to give them time to prepare suitable accommodation for him, Cortés should not enter Tezcuco until the next day; but dis- regarding this he marched in at once, only to find the place deserted, and Coanaco well on his way across the lake to Mexico. The general, however, turned this to his own advantage by assembling the few persons left in the city, and then and there electing a brother of the late sovereign to be ruler in his place, and when a few months later he died, he was succeeded by Ixtlilxochitl, son of Negahualpilli, who, always a friend of the Spaniards, now became their most valuable ally, and by the support of his personal authority and all his military resources, did more than any other Aztec chieftain to rivet the chains of the strangers round the necks of his own countrymen. Sons THE SIEGE AND SURRENDER OF MEXICO. The city of Tezcuco, which lay about half a league from the shore of the lake, was probably the best posi- 238 The Book of Adventure m tion Cortés could have chosen for the headquarters of the army. His first care was to strengthen the defences of the palace in which they were lodged, and next to employ eight thousand Indian laborers in widening a stream, which ran towards the lake, so that when the ships arrived they might be put together in Tezcuco, and floated safely down to be launched upon it. Mean- while many of the places in the neighborhood sent in their submission to Cortés, and several noble Aztecs fell into his hands. These men he employed to bear a message to Guatemozin, in which he deprecated the necessity of the present hostilities, and declared him- self willing to forget the past, inviting the Mexicans by a timely submission to save their capital from the horrors of a siege. But every man in Mexico was determined to defend it to the uttermost, and this appeal produced no effect. The general now turned his attention to securing all the strong places upon the lake. Iztapalapan was the first; the attacking party, after a sharp struggle, succeeded in entering the town; many of the inhabitants filed in their canoes, but those who remained were massacred by the Tlascalans in spite of all Cortés could do to restrain them. Dark- ness set in while the soldiers were eagerly loading themselves with plunder; some of the houses had been set on fire, and the flames lighted up the scene of ruin and desolation. Suddenly a sound was heard as of the rush of the incoming tide — and Cortés with great alarm realized that the Indians had broken down the dykes, and that before long the low-lying ground upon which the town stood would be under water. He has- tily called off his men and retreated, the soldiers, heavily 240 The Book of Adventure the unfortunate Juan Juste, with many others of his company, was imprisoned.” It was fortunate that the inhabitants had fled, for they would have met with but scant mercy from the Spaniards, who were full of in- dignation at the thought of the horrible doom which had overtaken their companions. Sandoval now re- sumed his march to Tlascala, but before he could reach it, the convoy appeared transporting the ships through the mountain passes. Retaining twenty thousand of the warriors as a guard, the Spanish captain dismissed the rest, and after four laborious days Cortés and his gar- rison had the joy of welcoming them safe within the walls of Tezcuco. It was not long before the general once more sallied forth to reconnoitre the capital, and by the way to chastise certain places which had sent him hostile messages. After an exciting struggle Xal- tocan and three other towns were taken, and a consid- erable quantity of gold and food fell into the hands of the victors. Marching on, the general found himself before Tlacopan, through whose streets he had hurried in consternation at the end of the night of horror. It was his intention to occupy the town, which he did after a sharp fight, just before nightfall, and the next morning, seeing the enemy in battle array on the open ground before the city, he marched out against them and routed them utterly. The Aztecs fled into the town, but were driven through its streets at the point · of the lance, and compelled once more to abandon it, after which the Tlascalans pillaged and set fire to the houses, much against the will of Cortés, but they were a fierce race, and sometimes dangerous to friends as well as foes. After six days the general went back to The March to Mexico 241 nev Tezcuco, and for some time things went on as before, with many skirmishes and expeditions against the towns garrisoned by the Mexicans. Sandoval took several strongholds which threatened the security of Chalco, and all the while the work upon the canal was going rapidly forward, and the ships were nearing com- pletion in spite of three attempts made by the enemy to burn them. Just at this time came the welcome news that three vessels had arrived at Villa Rica, with two hundred men on board well provided with arms and ammunition, and with seventy or eighty horses, and the new comers soon made their way to Tezcuco, for the roads to the port were now safe and open. In April, 1521, Cortés started once more to scour the country with a large force, passing quite round the great lakes, and exploring the mountain regions to the south of them. He came upon Aztec forces intrenched in strong towns, often built like eagles' nests upon some rocky height, so that to take them was a work of great difficulty and danger. Once he found himself before a city which it was absolutely necessary to sub- due, but he was separated from it by a cleft in the solid rock of no great width, but going sheer down thousands of feet. The bridges which generally crossed it had been broken down at the approach of the Span- iards, and as they stood there, unable to advance, the enemy's archers as usual kept up a steady fire, to which they were unavoidably exposed. The general sent a party to seek a passage lower down, but they met with no success until they came to a spot where two large trees, growing one on either side of the ravine, inter- laced their branches overhead, and by this unsteady 242 The Book of Adventure and perilous bridge one of the Tlascalans ventured to cross. His example was soon followed, and one by one about thirty Spaniards and some more of the natives crawled across, swinging dizzily above the abyss. Three lost their hold and fell, but the rest alighted in safety on the other side and attacked the Aztecs, who were as much amazed at their sudden appearance as if they had dropped from the clouds. Presently a tem- porary bridge was contrived by which the remainder of the force managed to cross also, and before long the town was taken, and the trembling caciques appeared before Cortés, throwing the blame of their resistance upon the Mexicans, and promising submission for the future. The general then continued his march across the eastern shoulder of the mountain, descending finally upon Xochimilco, which was built partly upon the lake like Mexico itself, and was approached by causeways, which, however, were of no great length. It was in the first attack upon this town that Cortés was as nearly as possible taken prisoner by the Aztecs. He had thrown himself into the thick of the fight with his usual bravery, and was trying to resist an unex- pected rush of the enemy, when his horse stumbled and fell, he himself received a severe blow upon the head before he could rise, and was seized and dragged off in triumph by several Indians. At this moment a Tlascalan saw his danger and sprang furiously upon his captors, trying to tear him from their grasp. Two Spaniards also rushed to the rescue, and between them the Aztecs were forced to quit their hold of the general, who lost no time in regaining his saddle, and The March to Mexico 243 ve vas IS laying about him with his good sword as vigorously as before. After a terrible struggle the enemy was driven out, and Cortés took possession of the city. As it was not yet dusk he ascended the principal teocalli to reconnoitre the surrounding country, and there beheld a sight which could but cause him grave The lake was covered with rapidly ap- proaching canoes full of warriors, while inland Indian squadrons were marching up in dense columns. Xochi- milco was but four leagues from the capital, and at the first tidings of the arrival of the Spaniards, Guatemozin had mustered a strong force and marched to its relief. Cortés made all possible preparations for the defence of his quarters, but not until the next day did the Mexicans attack him, and then the battle raged long and with varying success; but in the end Spanish discipline prevailed, and the natives were routed with such dreadful slaughter that they made no further attempt to renew the conflict. The city yielded a rich hoard of plunder, being well stored with gold and feather-work, and many other articles of use or luxury, · so that when the general mustered his men upon the neighboring plain before resuming his march, many of them came staggering under the weight of their spoil. This caused him much uneasiness, since their way would be through a hostile country; but seeing that the soldiers were determined to keep what they had so hardly won, he contented himself with ordering the baggage to be placed in the centre guarded by part of the cavalry, and having disposed the rest to the best advantage, they once more set forth, at the last mo- ment setting fire to the wooden buil:lings of Xochi, resun 244 The Book of Adventure milco, which blazed furiously, the glare upon the water telling far and wide the fate that had befallen it. Resting here and there, and engaging in many skir- mishes with the Aztecs who followed them up, furious at the sight of the plunder which was being carried away by the invaders, the army presently completed the circuit of the lakes, and reached Tezucuco, to be greeted with the news that the ships were fully rigged and the canal completed, so that there was no longer any reason to delay their operations against Mexico. It was a triumphant moment when the vessels were launched, and reached the lake in good order. Cortés saw to their being properly armed and manned, and then reviewed the rest of his forces, and summoned his native allies to furnish their promised levies at once. The general's plan of action against Mexico was to send Sandoval with one division to take possession of Iztapalapan at the southern end of the lake, while Alvarado and Olid were to secure Tlacopan and Chapoltepec upon its western shore, and at the latter place destroy the aqueduct, and so cut off the supply of fresh water from Mexico. This they did successfully, and in several days of fierce fighting breach after breach was carried, and the Spaniards penetrated the city as far as the great teocalli, driving the natives before them, while the Tlascalans in the rear filled up the gaps in the dyke as well as they could, and brought up the heavy guns. Cortés and his men now pushed their way into the inclosure of the temple, and some of them rushed to the top, so lately the scene of their terrible battle, and there found a fresh image of the war-god. Tearing away the gold and jewels with which it was 246 The Book of Adventure vai on the Mexicans unable to defend themselves, gave in their allegiance to the Spaniards, and then starvation began to be felt in the unhappy city. In spite of every- thing, however, all offers of terms from Cortés were steadily refused. At this juncture, the general was persuaded by some of his officers that it would be well for two of the divis- ions to unite, and occupy the great market-place in the heart of the town, and so at a given time they marched along their respective causeways and entered the city. Strict orders were given by Cortés that as they ad- vanced every opening in the causeways should be filled up and made secure. The attack began, and the enemy, taken apparently by surprise, gave way and fell back; on rushed the Spaniards by every street, eager to reach the appointed meeting place. Only the general sus- pected that the enemy might be purposely luring them on to turn upon them when they were hopelessly in- volved. Taking a few men with him, he hastily pro- ceeded to see for himself if the way was clear should a retreat become necessary, and found, as he had feared, that all had been too eager to be in the front to attend to this most important duty. In the first street he traversed was a huge gap, twelve feet wide, and at least as many deep, full of water, for it connected two canals. A feeble attempt had been made to fill this up with beams and rubbish, but it had been left before any good had been done. Worse than all Cortés saw that this breach was freshly made, and that his officers had probably rushed headlong into a snare laid by the enemy. Before his men could do anything towards filling up the trench, the distant sounds of the battle The March to Mexico 247 COI changed into an ever-increasing tumult, the mingled yells and war cries, and the trampling of many feet grew nearer, and at last, to his horror, Cortés beheld his men driven to the edge of the fatal gulf, confused, helpless, surrounded by their foes. The foremost files were soon burried over the edge, some trying to swim across, some beaten down by the struggles of their comrades, or pierced by the darts of the Indians. In vain with outstretched hands did Cortés try to rescue his soldiers from death, or worse still from capture; he was soon recognized, and six of the enemy tried to seize and drag him into a canoe. It was only after a severe struggle, in which he was wounded in the leg, that he was rescued by his brave followers. Two were killed in the attempt, while another was taken alive as he held the general's horse for him to mount. In all, sixty Spaniards were captured on this fatal day, and it was only when the rest reached their guns in the open space before the causeway that they were able to rally and beat back the Aztecs. The other division had fared equally ill, and were moreover in great anxiety as to the fate of Cortés, who was reported to have been killed. When they once more reached their quarters, Sandoval, though badly wounded, rode into the camp of Cortés to learn the truth, and had a long and earnest consultation with him over the disaster, and what was next to be done. As he returned to his camp he was startled by the sound of the great drum on the temple of the war-god, heard only once before during the night of horror, and looking up he saw a long file of priests and warriors, winding round the terraces of the teocalli. As they came out upon the platform at the top he per- 248 The Book of Adventure JU ceived, with rage and despair, that his own countrymen were about to be sacrificed with the usual ghastly cere- monies. The camp was near enough to the city for the white skins of the victims and their unavailing strug- gles to be distinctly seen by their comrades, who were nevertheless powerless to help them, and their distress and fury may be imagined. For five days the horrible scenes went on, the Mexi- cans feasting, singing, and dancing, while their priests predicted that in eight days the war-god, appeased by these sacrifices, would overwhelm their enemies and deliver them into their hands. These prophecies had a great effect upon the native allies of Cortés, who withdrew from him in immense numbers. But the general treated their superstition with cheerful con- tempt, and only bargained with the deserters to remain close by and see what would happen. When the ninth day came, and the city was still seen to be beset on every side, they ceased to believe in the oracle, and returned, with their anger against the Mexicans rekin- dled, and their confidence in the Spaniards greatly strengthened. At this time another vessel loaded with stores and ammunition touched at Vera Cruz, and her cargo was seized and sent on to Cortés by the governor. With his strength thus renewed the Spanish general · resumed active operations. This time not a step was taken in advance without securing the entire safety of the army, once and for all, by solidly building up the dykes, filling every canal, and pulling down every house, so that slowly and by degrees a bare open space was made, which took in more and more of the town, till at last the unhappy Aztecs, after many desperate 250 The Book of Adventure quarter of the city into which the wretched Mexicans bad retreated. But he was met by several chiefs, who, holding out their emaciated arms, exclaimed, “Why do you delay so long to put an end to our miseries? Rather kill us at once that we may go to our god Huitzilopochtli, who waits to give us rest from our sufferings ?” Cortés, moved by the piteous sight, replied that he desired not their death but their submission. “Why does your master refuse to treat with me,” he said, “when in a single hour I can crush him and all his people ?” Then once more he sent to demand an interview with Guatemozin. This time the emperor hesitated and agreed that next day he would meet the Spanish general. Cortés, well satisfied, withdrew his force, and next mom- ing presented himself at the appointed place in the great square, where a stone platform had been spread with mats and carpets and a banquet made ready. But after all Guatemozin, instead of coming himself, sent his nobles. Cortés, though greatly disappointed, received them courteously, persuading them to partake of the feast he had prepared, and dismissing them with a supply of provisions for their master and a renewed entreaty that he would next day come in person. But though he waited for three hours beyond the time appointed, neither the emperor nor his chiefs appeared, and the general heard that the Mexicans were preparing to resist an as- sault. He delayed no longer, but ordering Sandoval to support him by bringing up the ships and directing his big guns against the houses near the water, he marched at once into the enemy's quarters. The Mexicans set up a fierce war-cry, and with their usual spirit sent off clouds of arrows and darts; but the struggle soon be- The March to Mexico 251 SO came a hand-to-hand one; and weakened by starvation and hemmed in as they were the unhappy Aztecs had no chance against their foes. After a scene of indescribable horror, which appalled even the soldiers of Cortés, used as they were to war and violence, the Spanish commander sounded a retreat and withdrew to his quarters, leaving behind him forty thousand corpses and a smouldering ruin. Through the long night that followed all was silent in the Mexican quarter. There was neither light nor movement. This last blow seemed to have utterly stunned them. They had nothing left to hope for. In the Spanish camp, however, all was rejoicing at the prospect of a speedy termination to the wearisome cam- paign. The great object of Cortés was now to secure the person of Guatemozin, and the next day, which was August 13, 1521, he led his forces for the last time across the black and blasted ruin which was all that remained of the once beautiful city. In order to give the dis- tressed garrison one more chance, he obtained an inter- view with the principal chiefs and reasoned with them about the conduct of their emperor. “ Surely," he said, “ Guatemozin will not see you all perish when he can so easily save you.” But when he had with difficulty prevailed upon them to urge the king to confer with him, the only answer they could bring was that Gautemozin was ready to die where he was, but would hold no communication with the Spanish commander. “Go then,” replied the stern conqueror, “ and prepare your countrymen for death. Their last moment has come.” Still, however, he postponed the attack for several hours; but the troops were impatient at the delay, and a rumor spread that Guatemozin was I 252 The Book of Adventure bor preparing to escape by the lake. It was useless to hesi- tate: the word was given, and the terrible scene that ensued repeated the horrors of the day before. While this was going forward on shore numbers of canoes pushed off across the lake, most of them only to be in- tercepted and sunk by the Spanish ships, which beat down upon them, firing to right and left. Some few, however, under cover of the smoke, Suc- ceeded in get- ting into open water. Sando- val had given particular orders that his captains should, watch to any boat that might contain Guatemo- * zin, and now two or three large canoes together at- tracted the attention of one named Garci Holguin, who instantly gave chase, and with a favorable wind soon overtook the fugitives, though they rowed with the energy of despair. As his men levelled their guns at the occupants of the boat one rose saying, “I am Guatemozin ; lead me to Malinche; I am his prisoner. But let no harm come to my wife and followers.” Holguin took them on board, and then requested that the emperor would order the people in the other canoes to surrender. “There is no need,” he answered The March to Mexico 253 sadly, “ they will fight no longer when they see their prince is taken.” And so it was, for when the news of his capture reached the shore the Mexicans at once ceased to defend themselves. It seemed as if they had only gone on so long to give their sovereign a better chance of escape. Cortés, who had taken up his station on the flat roof of one of the houses, now sent to com- mand that Guatemozin should be brought before him, and he came, escorted by Sandoval and Holguin, who each claimed the honor of having captured him. The conqueror, who was, as usual, accompanied by the Lady Marina, came forward with dignified courtesy to receive his noble prisoner. The Aztec monarch broke the silence saying, “I have done all I could to defend my-. self and my people. I am now reduced to this state. Deal with me, Malinche, as you will.” Then laying his hand on a dagger which hung from the belt of Cortés, he added, “ Better despatch me at once with this, and rid me of life.” “ Fear not,” answered the conqueror, “you shall be treated with honor. You have defended your capital like a brave warrior, and a Spaniard knows how to respect valor even in an enemy.” He then sent for the queen, who had remained on board the Spanish ship, and after ordering that the royal captives should be well cared for and supplied with all they needed, he pro- ceeded to dispose of his troops. Olid and Alvarado drew off their divisions to their quarters, leaving only a small guard in the wasted suburbs of the pestilence- stricken city, whilst the general himself, with Sandoval and the prisoners, retired to a town at the end of the southern causeway. That night a tremendous tempest 254 The Book of Adventure arose, such as the Spaniards had never before witnessed, shaking to its foundations all that remained of the city of Mexico. The next day, at the request of Guate- mozin, the Mexicans were allowed to leave the capital, and for three days a mournful train of men, women, and children straggled feebly across the causeways, sick and wounded, wasted with famine and misery, turning often to take one more look at the spot which was once their pleasant home. When they were gone the conquerors took possession of the place and purified it as speedily as possible, burying the dead and lighting huge bonfires in the deserted streets. The treasure of gold and jewels found in it fell far short of the expecta- tion of the Spaniards, the Aztecs having . probably buried their hoards or sunk them in the lake on pur- pose to disappoint the avarice of their enemies. Cortés, therefore, to his eternal disgrace, caused Guatemozin to be tortured; but fire and cord could not wring the secret of the treasure from this illustrious prince. In later days Cortés hanged Guatemozin, on pretence of a conspiracy. Cortés, having no further need for his native allies, now dismissed them with presents and flattering speeches, and they departed well pleased, loaded with the plunder of the Mexican houses, which was despised by the Spanish soldiers. Great was the satisfaction of the conquerors at having thus brought the long campaign successfully to an end. Cortés cele- brated the event by a banquet as sumptuous as circum- stances would permit, and the next day, at the request of Father Olmedo, the whole army took part in a solemn service and procession in token of their thankfulness for victory. The March to Mexico 255 Thus, after a siege of nearly three months, in which the beleaguered Mexicans showed a constancy and courage under their sufferings which is unmatched in history, fell the renowned capital of the Aztecs, and with its fall the story of the nation comes to an end. The Aztec empire fell by its own sin. The constant capture of men from neighboring states as victims for sacrifice had caused the Aztecs to be hated; thus Cortés obtained the aid of the Tlascalans, but for which even his courage and energy would have been of no avail. He deserted Marina when she ceased to be useful, and gave her as a wife to one of his followers. RU THE ADVENTURE OF LEIF THE LUCKY (FROM THE OLD Sagas.) HIS is the story of the first finding of America by the Icelanders, nearly five hundred years before Columbus: They landed on the coast, and stayed for a short time; where they landed is uncertain. Thinking that it was in New England, the people of Boston have erected a statue of Leif in their town. The story was not written till long after Leif's time, and it cannot all be true. Dead men a do not return and give directions about their burial as we read here. We have omitted a silly tale of a one-footed man. In the middle ages, people believed that one-footed men lived in Africa; they thought Vineland was near Africa, so they brought the fable into the Saga. Hundreds of years before Columbus discovered Amer- ica, there lived in Iceland a man named Eric the Red. His father had slain a man in Norway, and fled with his family to Iceland. Eric, too, was a dangerous man His servants did mischief on the farm of a neighbor, a . 256 The Adventure of Leif the Lucky 257 who slew them. Then Eric slew the farmer, and also Holmgang Hrafn, a famous duellist, of whom the coun- try was well rid. Eric was banished from that place, and, in his new home, had a new quarrel. He lent some furniture to a man who refused to restore it. Eric, therefore, carried off his goods, and the other pursued him. They fought, and Eric killed him. For this he was made an outlaw, and went sailing to discover new countries. He found one, where he settled, calling it Greenland, because, he said, people would come there more readily if it had a good name. One Thorbiorn, among others, sailed to Greenland, but came in an unlucky time, for fish were scarce, and some settlers were drowned. At that day, some of the new comers were Christians, some still worshipped the old Gods, Thor and Woden, and practised magic. These sent for a prophetess to tell them what the end of their new colony would be. It is curious to know what a real witch was like, and how she behaved, so we shall copy the story from the old Icelandic book. “ When she came in the evening, with the man who had been sent to meet her, she was clad in a dark-blue cloak, fastened with a strap, and set with stones quite down to the hem. She wore glass beads around her neck, and upon her head a black lambskin hood, lined with white catskin. In her hands she carried a staff, upon which there was a knob, which was ornamented with brass, and set with stones up about the knob. Circling her waist she wore a girdle of touchwood, and attached to it a great skin pouch, in which she kept the charms which she used when she was practising her sorcery. She wore upon her feet shaggy calfskin shoes, sorce 258 The Book of Adventure with long, tough latchets, upon the ends of which there were large brass buttons. She had catskin gloves upon her hands; the gloves were white inside and lined with fur. When she entered, all of the folk felt it to be their duty to offer her becoming greetings. She received the salutations of each individual according as he pleased her. Yeoman Thorkel took the sibyl by the hand, and led her to the seat which had been made ready for her. Thorkel bade her run her eyes over man and beast and home. She had little to say concerning all these. The tables were brought forth in the evening, and it remains to be told what manner of food was prepared for the prophetess. A porridge of goat's beestings was made for her, and for meat there were dressed the hearts of every kind of beast which could be obtained there. She had a brass spoon, and a knife with a handle of walrus tusk, with a double hasp of brass around the haft, and from this the point was broken. And when the tables were removed, Yeoman Thorkel approaches the proph- etess Thorbiorg, and asks how she is pleased with the home, and the character of the folk, and how speedily she would be likely to become aware of that concerning which he had questioned her, and which the people were anxious to know. She replied that she could not give an opinion in this matter before the morrow, after that she had slept there through the night. And on the morrow, when the day was far spent, such prepara- tions were made as were necessary to enable her to accomplish her soothsaying. She bade them bring her those women who knew the incantation which she required to work her spells, and which she called War- locks; but such women were not to be found. There- were al 260 The Book of Adventure re now re to us. Many things are now revealed to me, which hitherto have been hidden, both from me and from others. And I am able to announce that this period of famine will not endure longer, but the season will mend as spring approaches. The visitation of disease, which has been so long upon you, will disappear sooner than expected.'” After this, Thorbiorn sailed to the part of Greenland where Eric the Red lived, and there was received with open arms. Eric had two sons, one called Thorstein, the other Leif the Lucky, and it was Leif who after- wards discovered Vineland the Good, that is, the coast of America, somewhere between Nova Scotia and New England. He found it by accident. He had been in Norway, at the court of King Olaf, who bade him pro- claim Christianity in Greenland. As he was sailing thither, Leif was driven by tempests out of his course, and came upon coasts which he had never heard of, where wild vines grew, and hence he called that shore Vineland the Good. The vine did not grow, of course, in Iceland. But Leif had with him a German Tyrker, and one day, when they were on shore, Tyrker was late in joining the rest. He was very much excited, and spoke in the German tongue, saying “I have found something new, vines and grapes.” Then they filled their boat full of grapes, and sailed away. He also brought away some men from a wreck, and with these, and the message of the Gospel, he sailed back to Green- land, to his father, Eric the Red, and from that day he was named Leif the Lucky. But Eric had no great mind to become a Christian, he had been born to believe in Thor and his own sword. as “HE CAME UPON Coasts which HE HAD NEVER HEARD OF." The Adventure of Leif the Lucky 261 as Next year Leif's brother, Thorstein, set out to find Vineland, and Eric, first burying all his treasures, started with him, but he fell from his horse, and broke his ribs, and his company came within sight of Ireland, but Vineland they did not see, so they returned to Erics- firth in Greenland, and there passed the winter. There was much sickness, and one woman died. After her death she rose, and they could only lay her by holding an axe before her breast. Thorstein, Eric's son, died also, but in the night he arose again and said that Christian burial should be given to men in conse- crated ground. For the manner had been to bury the dead in their farms with a long pole driven through the earth till it reached the breast of the corpse. After- wards the priest came, and poured holy water through the hole, and not till then, perhaps long after the death, was the funeral service held. After Thorstein rose and spoke, Christian burial was always used in Greenland. Next year came Karlsefni from Iceland, with two ships, and Eric received him kindly, and gave all his crew winter quarters. In summer nothing would serve Karlsefni but to search again for Vineland the Good. They took three ships and one hundred and sixty men, and south they sailed. They passed Flat Stone Land, where there were white foxes, and Bear Island, where they saw a bear, and Forest Land, and a cape where they found the keel of a wrecked ship, this they named Keelness. Then they reached the Wonder Strands, long expanses of sandy shore. Now Karlsefni had with him two Scotch or Irish savages, the swiftest of all runners, whom King Olaf had given to Leif the Lucky, and they were fleeter-footed than deer. They wore only 262 The Book of Adventure a plaid and kilt all in one piece, for the rest they were naked. Karlsefni landed them south of Wonder Strands, and bade them run south and return on the third day to report about the country. When they returned, one carried a bunch of grapes, the other ears of native wheat. Then they sailed on, passed an isle covered with birds' eggs, and a firth, which they called Streamfirth, from the tide in it. Beyond Streamfirth they landed and established themselves there. “ There were mountains thereabouts. They occupied themselves exclusively with the exploration of the coun- try. They remained there during the winter, and they had taken no thought for this during the summer. The fishing began to fail, and they began to fall short of food. Then Thorhall the Huntsman disappeared. They had already prayed u you to God for food, but it did not come as promptly as their necessities seemed to demand. They searched for Thorhall for three half-days, and found him on a projecting crag. He was lying there, and looking up at the sky, r with mouth and nostrils agape, and mumbling something. They asked him why he had gone thither; he replied, that this did not concern anyone. They asked him then to go home with them, and he did so. Soon after this a whale appeared there, and NOTE May the ms The Adventure of Leif the Lucky 263 they captured it, and flensed it, and no one could tell what manner of whale it was; and when the cooks had prepared it, they ate of it, and were all made ill by it. Then Thorhall, approaching them, says: “ Did not the Red-beard (that is, Thor) prove more helpful than your Christ? This is my reward for the verses which I composed to Thor the Trustworthy; seldom has he failed me.” When the people heard this, they cast the whale down into the sea, and made their appeals to God. The weather then improved, and they would now row out to fish, and thencefor- ward they had no lack of provisions, for they could hunt game on the land, gather eggs on the island, and catch fish from the sea. Next Spring Thorhall the heathen left them, laugh- ing at the wine which he had been promised, and sailed north. He and his crew were driven to Ireland, where they were captured and sold as slaves, and that was all Thorhall got by worshipping the Red Beard. Karl- sefni sailed south and reached a rich country of wild maize, where also was plenty of fish and of game. Here they first met the natives, who came in a fleet of skin-canoes. “ They were swarthy men and ill-looking, and the hair of their heads was ugly. They had great eyes and were broad of cheek.” The Icelanders held up a white shield in sign of peace and the natives withdrew. They may have been Eskimo or Red Indians. The winter was mild and open, but spring had scarce returned, when the bay was as full of native canoes " as if ashes had been sprinkled over it.” They only came to trade and exchanged furs for red cloth, nor did they 264 The Book of Adventure cou CU seem to care whether they got a broad piece of cloth or a narrow one. They also wanted weapons, but these Karlsefni refused to sell. The market was going on busily when a bull that Karlsefni had brought from Greenland came out from the wood and began to bel- low, whereon the Skraelings (as they called the natives) ran! Three weeks passed when the Skraelings returned in very great force, waving their clubs against the course of the sun, whereas in peace they waved them with it. Karlsefni showed a red shield, the token of war, and fighting began. It is not easy to make out what happened, for there are two sagas, or stories of these events, both written down long after they oc- curred. In one we read that the Skraelings were good slingers, and also that they used a machine which re- minds one rather of gunpowder than of anything else. They swung from a pole a great black ball, and it made a fearful noise when it fell among Karlsefni's men. So frightened were they that they saw Skrael- ings where there were none, and they were only rallied by the courage of a woman named Freydis, who seized a dead man's sword and faced the Skraelings, beating her bare breast with the flat of the blade. On this the Skraelings ran to their canoes and paddled away. In the other account Karlsefni had fortified his house with a palisade, behind which the women waited. To one of them, Gudrid, the appearance of a white woman came; her hair was of a light chestnut color, she was pale and had very large eyes. “What is thy name ?” she said to Gudrid. “My name is Gudrid ; but what is thine ?” “Gudrid !” says the strange woman. Then came the sound of a great crash and the woman van- The Adventure of Leif the Lucky 265 ished. A battle followed in which many Skraelings were slain. It all reads like a dream. In the end Karlsefni sailed back to Ericsfirth with a great treasure of furs. A great and prosperous family in Iceland was descended from him at the time when the stories were written down. But it is said that Freydis who frightened the Skraelings committed many murders in Vineland among her own people. The Icelanders never returned to Vineland the Good, though a bishop named Eric is said to have started for the country in 1121. Now, in the story of Cortés, you may read how the Mexicans believed in a god called Quetzalcoatl, a white man in appearance, who dwelt among them and departed mysteriously, saying that he would come again, and they at first took Cortés and his men for the children of Quetzalcoatl. So we may fancy if we please that Bishop Eric or one of his descendants, wandered from Vineland south and west across the continent and arrived among the Aztecs, and by them was taken for a god. O O O pooo OOO OOOO SOOOO OOOOO Oo oo THE DISINHERITED KNIGHT (From Ivanhoe.) BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. At this the challenger with fierce defy His trumpet sounds; the challenged makes reply. With clangor rings the field, resounds the vaulted sky. Their visors closed, their lances in the rest, Or at the helmet pointed or the crest, They vanish from the barrier, speed the race, And spurring see decrease the middle space. Palamon and Arcite. N the midst of Prince John's cavalcade, he suddenly stopt, and, appealing to the Prior of Jorvaulx, declared the principal business of the day had been forgotten. “By my halidom,” said he, “we have neglected, Sir Prior, to name the fair Sovereign of Love and Beauty, by whose white hand the palm is to be distributed. For my part, I am liberal in my ideas, and I care not if I give my vote for the black-eyed Rebecca.” “ Holy Virgin,” answered the Prior, turning up his eyes in horror, “a Jewess! We should deserve to be DO 266 The Disinherited Knight 267 stoned out of the lists; and I am not yet old enough to be a martyr. Besides, I swear by my patron saint that she is far inferior to the lovely Saxon, Rowena.” “Saxon or Jew," answered the Prince — “Saxon or Jew, dog or hog, what matters it! I say, name Re- becca, were it only to mortify the Saxon churls.” A murmur arose even among his own immediate attendants. “ This passes a jest, my lord,” said De Bracy; “no knight here will lay lance in rest if such an insult is attempted.” “It is the mere wantonness of insult,” said one of the oldest and most important of Prince John's followers, Waldemar Fitzurse," and if your Grace attempt it, can- not but prove ruinous to your projects.” “I entertained you, sir,” said John, reining up his palfrey haughtily, “for my follower, but not for my counsellor.” “ Those who follow your Grace in the paths which you tread,” said Waldemar, but speaking in a low voice, “acquire the right of counsellors; for your in- terest and safety are not more deeply gaged than their own.” From the tone in which this was spoken, John saw the necessity of acquiescence. “I did but jest,” he said ; “and you turn upon me like so many adders ! Name whom you will, in the fiend's name, and please yourselves.” “ Nay, nay,” said De Bracy, “let the fair sovereign's throne remain unoccupied until the conqueror shall be named, and then let him choose the lady by whom it shall be filled. It will add another grace to his triumph, 268 The Book of Adventure m and teach fair ladies to prize the love of valiant knights, who can exalt them to such distinction.” “If Brian de Bois-Guilbert gain the prize,” said the Prior, “I will gage my rosary that I name the sovereign of Love and Beauty.” “Bois-Guilbert," answered De Bracy,“ is a good lance; but there are others around these lists, Sir Prior, who will not fear to encounter him.” “ Silence, sirs," said Waldemar, " and let the Prince assume his seat. The knights and spectators are alike impatient, the time advances, and highly fit it is that the sports should commence.” Prince John, though not yet a monarch, had in Waldemar Fitzurse all the inconveniences of a favorite minister, who, in serving his sovereign, must always do so in his own way. The Prince acquiesced, however, al- though his disposition was precisely of that kind which is apt to be obstinate upon trifles, and, assuming his throne, and being surrounded by his followers, gave signal to the heralds to proclaim the laws of the tourna- ment, which were briefly as follows: First, the five challengers were to undertake all comers. Secondly, any knight proposing to combat might, if he pleased, select a special antagonist from among the challengers, by touching his shield. If he did so with the reverse of his lance, the trial of skill was made with what were called the arms of courtesy, that is, with lances at whose extremity a piece of round flat board was fixed, so that no danger was encountered, save from the shock of the horses and riders. But if the shield was touched with the sharp end of the lance, the combat 270 The Book of Adventure noble, great, wealthy, and beautiful in the northern and midland parts of England; and the contrast of the various dresses of these dignified spectators rendered the view as gay as it was rich, while the interior and lower space, filled with the substantial burgesses and yeomen of merry England, formed, in their more plain attire, a dark fringe, or border, around this circle of brilliant embroidery, relieving, and at the same time setting off, its splendor. The heralds finished their proc- lamation with their usual cry of “ Largesse, largesse, gallant knights !” and gold and silver pieces were showered on them from the gal- leries, it being a high point of chivalry to ex- hibit liberality towards those whom the age accounted at once the secretaries and the his- torians of honor. The bounty of the spectators was acknowledged by the customary shouts of “Love of ladies — Death of champions — Honor to the gen- erous — Glory to the brave." To which the more humble spectators added their acclamations, and a numerous band of trumpeters the flourish of their martial instruments. When these sounds had ceased, the heralds withdrew from the lists in gay and glitter- ing procession, and none remained within them save the marshals of the field, who, armed cap-à-pie, sat on arch biz 272 The Book of Adventure avail the reader to know their names, or the evanescent symbols of their martial rank ? Now, however, no whit anticipating the oblivion which awaited their names and feats, the champions advanced through the lists, restraining their fiery steeds, and compelling them to move slowly, while, at the same time, they exhibited their paces, together with the grace and dexterity of the riders. As the procession, entered the lists, the sound of a wild bar- baric music was heard from behind the tents of the challengers, where the performers were concealed. It was of Eastern origin, having been brought from the Holy Land; and the mixture of the cymbals and bells seemed to bid welcome at once, and defiance, to the knights as they advanced. With the eyes of an im- mense concourse of spectators fixed upon them, the five knights advanced up the platform upon which the tents of the challengers stood, and there separating themselves, each touched slightly, and with the reverse side of his lance, the shield of the antagonist to whom he wished to oppose himself. The lower order of spec- tators in general — nay, many of the higher class, and it is even said several of the ladies — were rather dis- appointed at the champions choosing the arms of cour- tesy. For the same sort of persons who, in the present day, applaud most highly the deepest tragedies were then interested in a tournament exactly in proportion to the danger incurred by the champions engaged. Having intimated their more pacific purpose, the champions retreated to the extremity of the lists, where they remained drawn up in a line; while the chal- lengers, sallying each from his pavilion, mounted their The Disinherited Knight 273 horses, and, headed by Brian de Bois-Guilbert, de- scended from the platform and opposed themselves individually to the knights who had touched their re- spective shields. At the flourish of clarions and trumpets, they started out against each other at full gallop; and such was the superior dexterity or good fortune of the chal- lengers, that those opposed to Bois-Guilbert, Malvoisin, and Front-de-Boeuf rolled on the ground. The antag- onist of Grantmesnil, instead of bearing his lance-point fair against the crest or the shield of his enemy, swerved so much from the direct line as to break the weapon athwart the person of his opponent — a cir- cumstance which was accounted more disgraceful than that of being actually unhorsed, because the latter might happen from accident, whereas the former evinced awkwardness and want of management of the weapon and of the horse. The fifth knight alone maintained the honor of his party, and parted fairly with the Knight of St. John, both splintering their lances without advantage on either side. The shouts of the multitude, together with the accla- mations of the heralds and the clangor of the trum- pets, announced the triumph of the victors and the defeat of the vanquished. The former retreated to their pavilions, and the latter, gathering themselves up as they could, withdrew from the lists in disgrace and dejection, to agree with their victors concerning the redemption of their arms and their horses, which, according to the laws of the tournament, they had forfeited. The fifth of their number alone tarried in the lists long enough to be greeted by the applauses 274 The Book of Adventure of the spectators, amongst whom he retreated, to the aggravation, doubtless of his companions' mortification. A second and a third party of knights took the field; and although they had various success, yet, upon the whole, the advantage decidedly remained with the challengers, not one of whom lost his seat or swerved from his charge — misfortunes which befell one or two of their antagonists in each encounter. The spirits, therefore, of those opposed to them seemed to be con- siderably damped by their continued success. Three knights only appeared on the fourth entry, who, avoiding the shields of Bois-Guilbert and Front-de-Beuf, con- tented themselves with touching those of the three other knights who had not altogether manifested the same strength and dexterity. This politic selection did not alter the fortune of the field: the challengers were still successful. One of their antagonists was over- thrown; and both the others failed in the attaint, that is, in striking the helmet and shield of their antagonist firmly and strongly, with the lance held in a direct line, so that the weapon might break unless the cham- pion was overthrown. After this fourth encounter, there was a considerable pause; nor did it appear that any one was very desirous of renewing the contest. The spectators murmured among themselves; for, among the challengers, Mal- voisin and Front-de-Boeuf were unpopular from their characters, and the others, except Grantmesnil, were disliked as strangers and foreigners. But none shared the general feeling of dissatisfaction so keenly as Cedric the Saxon, who saw, in each ad- vantage gained by the Norman challengers, a repeated The Disinherited Knight 275 rm triumph over the honor of England. His own educa- tion had taught him no skill in the games of chivalry, although, with the arms of his Saxon ancestors, he had manifested himself, on many occasions, a brave and de- termined soldier. He looked anxiously to Athelstane, who had learned the accomplishments of the age, as if desiring that he should make some personal effort to recover the victory which was passing into the hands of the Templar and his associates. But, though both stout of heart and strong of person, Athelstane had a disposition too inert and unambitious to make the exertions which Cedric seemed to expect from him. “ The day is against England, my lord,” said Cedric, in a marked tone; “are you not tempted to take the lance?” “I shall tilt to-morrow," answered Athelstane, “ in the mêlée; it is not worth while for me to arm myself to-day.” Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. It con- tained the Norman word mêlée (to express the general conflict), and it evinced some indifference to the honor of the country; but it was spoken by Athelstane, whom he held in such profound respect that he would not trust himself to canvass his motives or his foibles. Moreover, he had no time to make any remark, for Wamba thrust in his word, observing, “ It was better, though scarce easier, to be the best man among a hun- dred than the best man of two.” Athelstane took the observation as a serious com- pliment; but Cedric, who better understood the Jester's meaning, darted at him a severe and menacing look; and lucky it was for Wamba, perhaps, that the time and place prevented his receiving, notwithstanding his place and service, more sensible marks of his master's resentment. 280 The Book of Adventure directed the point of his lance towards Bois-Guilbert's shield, but, changing his aim almost in the moment of encounter, he addressed it to the helmet, a mark more difficult to hit, but which, if attained, rendered the shock more irresistible. Fair and true he hit the Nor- man on the visor, where his lance's point kept hold of the bars. Yet, even at this disadvantage, the Templar sustained his high reputation ; and had not the girths of his saddle burst, he might not have been unhorsed. As it chanced, however, saddle, horse, and man rolled on the ground under a cloud of dust. To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen steed was to the Templar scarce the work of a moment; and, stung with madness, both at his disgrace and at the acclamations with which it was hailed by the spec- tators, he drew his sword and waved it in defiance of his conqueror. The Disinherited Knight sprung from his steed, and also unsheathed his sword. The mar- shals of the field, however, spurred their horses between them, and reminded them that the laws of the tourna- ment did not, on the present occasion, permit this species of encounter. “We shall meet again, I trust,” said the Templar, casting a resentful glance at his antagonist; “ and where there are none to separate us.” “If we do not,” said the Disinherited Knight, “the fault shall not be mine. On foot or horseback, with spear, with axe, or with sword, I am alike ready to encounter thee.” More and angrier words would have been exchanged, but the marshals, crossing their lances betwixt them, compelled them to separate. The Disinherited Knight ADVENTURES OF A KING (FROM TALES OF A GRANDFATHER.) BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. AMES V., like his father James IV., had a custom of going about the coun- try disguised as a private person, in order that he might hear complaints which might not otherwise reach his ears, and perhaps that he might enjoy amusements which he could not have par- taken of in his avowed royal character. This is also said to have been a custom of James IV., his father, and several adven- tures are related of what befell them on such occasions. One or two of these narratives may help to enliven our story. When James V. travelled in disguise, he used a name which was known only to some of his principal nobility and attendants. He was called the Goodman (the ten- ant, that is) of Ballengiech. Ballengiech is a steep pass which leads down behind the castle of Stirling. Once upon a time, when the court was feasting in Stirling, the King sent for some venison from the neighboring hills. The deer was killed, and put on horses' backs to be trans- 283 284 The Book of Adventure ported to Stirling. Unluckily they had to pass the castle- gates of Arnpryor, belonging to a chief of the Buchanans, who chanced to have a considerable number of guests with him. It was late, and the company were rather short of victuals, though they had more than enough of liquor. The chief, seeing so much fat venison passing his very door, seized on it; and to the expostulations of the keepers, who told him it belonged to King James, he answered insolently, that if James was King in Scotland, he, Buchanan, was King in Kippen; being the name of the district in which the castle of Ampryor lay. On hearing what had happened, the King got on horseback, and rode instantly from Stirling to Buchanan's house, where he found a strong, fierce-looking Highlander, with an axe on his shoulder, standing sentinel at the door. This grim warder refused the King admittance, saying, that the Laird of Arnpryor was at dinner, and would not be disturbed. “Yet go up to the company, my good friend,” said the King, “ and tell him that the Goodman of Ballengiech is come to feast with the King of Kippen.' The porter went grumbling into the house, and told his master that there was a fellow with a red beard at the gate, who called himself the Goodman of Ballengiech, who said he was come to dine with the King of Kippen. As soon as Buchanan heard these words, he knew that the King was come in person, and hastened down to kneel at James's feet, and to ask forgiveness for his inso- lent behavior. But the King, who only meant to give him a fright, forgave him freely, and, going into the castle, feasted on his own venison which Buchanan had intercepted. Buchanan of Ampryor was ever afterwards called the King of Kippen. a Adventures 285 res of a King 2 R man defending Upon another occasion, King James, being alone and in disguise, fell into a quarrel with some gipsies, or other vagrants, and was assaulted by four or five of them. This chanced to be very near the Bridge of Cramond; so the King got on the bridge, which, as it was high and narrow, enabled him to defend himself with his sword against the a number of persons by whom in he was attacked. There was a poor man threshing corn in a barn near by, who came out on hearing the M T noise of the scuffle, and seeing one man defending himself against numbers, gallantly En took the King's part with his flail, to Z such good purpose that the gipsies were obliged to fly. The husbandman then e took the King into the barn, brought him a towel and water to wash the blood from his face and hands, and Bo finally walked with him a little way towards u" Edinburgh, in case he should be again at- tacked. On the way, the King asked his companion what and who he was. The laborer answered, that his name was John Howieson, and that he was a bondsman on the farm of Braehead, near Cramond, which belonged to the King of Scotland. James then asked the poor man, if there was any wish in 286 The Book of Adventure the world which he would particularly desire should be gratified ; and honest John confessed, he should think himself the happiest man in Scotland were he but pro- prietor of the farm on which he wrought as a laborer. He then asked the King, in turn, who he was; and James replied, as usual, that he was the Goodman of Ballengiech, a poor man who had a small appointment about the palace; but he added, that if John Howieson would come to see him on the next Sunday, he would endeavor to repay his manful assistance, and at least give him the pleasure of seeing the royal apartments. John put on his best clothes, as you may suppose, and appearing at a postern gate of the palace, inquired for the Goodman of Ballengiech. The King had given orders that he should be admitted; and John found his friend, the goodman, in the same disguise which he had formerly worn. The King, still preserving the character of an inferior officer of the household, conducted John Howieson from one apartment of the palace to another, and was amused with his wonder and his remarks. At length, James asked his visitor if he should like to see the King; to which John replied, nothing would delight him so much, if he could do so without giving offence. The Goodman of Ballengiech, of course, undertook that the King would not be angry. “But,” said John,“ how am I to know his Grace from the nobles who will be all about him?” — “ Easily,” replied his companion ; “ all the others will be uncovered, — the King alone will wear his hat or bonnet.” So speaking, King James introduced the countryman into a great hall, which was filled by the nobility and officers of the crown. John was a little frightened, and COVE Adventures of a King . 287 TO 01 drew close to his attendant; but was still unable to dis- tinguish the King. “I told you that you should know him by his wearing his hat,” said the conductor. “ Then,” said John, after he had again looked around the room, “it must either be you or me, for all but us two are bareheaded.” The King laughed at John's fancy; and that the good yeoman might have occasion for mirth also, he made him a present of the farm of Braehead, which he had wished so much to possess, on condition that John Howieson, or his successors, should be ready to present an ewer and basin for the King to wash his hands, when his majesty should come to Holyrood Palace, or should pass the bridge of Cramond. Accordingly, in the year 1822, when George IV. came to Scotland, the descendant of John Howieson of Braehead, who still possesses the estate which was given to his ancestor, appeared at a solemn festival, and offered his Majesty water from a silver ewer, that he might perform the service by which he held his lands. James V. was very fond of hunting, and when he pursued that amusement in the Highlands, he used to wear the peculiar dress of that country, having a long and wide Highland shirt, and a jacket of tartan velvet, with plaid hose and everything else corresponding. The accounts for these are in the books of his chamber- lain, still preserved. On one occasion, when the King had an ambassador of the Pope along with him, with various foreigners of distinction, they were splendidly entertained by the Earl of Athole in a huge and singular rustic palace. It was built of timber, in the midst of a great meadow, OU DU Musen KIDNAPPED BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON As soon as we came to the inn, Ransome led us up the stair to a small room, with a bed in it, and heated like an oven by a great fire of coal. At a table hard by the chimney, a tall, dark, sober-looking man sat writing. In spite of the heat of the room, he * wore a thick sea-jacket, buttoned to the neck, and a tall hairy cap drawn down over his ears ; yet I never saw any man, not even a judge upon the bench, look cooler, or more studious and self-possessed, than this ship captain. . He got to his feet at once, and coming forward, offered his large hand to Ebenezer. “I am proud to see you, Mr. Balfour,” said he, in a fine deep voice, “and glad that ye are here in time. The wind's fair, and the tide upon the turn: we'll see the old coal-bucket burning on the Isle of May before to-night.' 289 290 The Book of Adventure “ Captain Hoseason,” returned my uncle, “you keep your room unco' hot.” “It's a habit I have, Mr. Balfour,” said the skipper. “ I'm a cold-rife man by my nature; I have a cold blood, sir. There's neither fur, nor flannel — no, sir, nor hot rum, will warm up what they call the tempera- ture. Sir, it's the same with most men that have been carbonadoed, as they call it, in the tropic seas.” “Well, well, captain,” replied my uncle, " we must all be the way we're made.” . But it chanced that this fancy of the captain's had a great share in my misfortunes. For though I had promised myself not to let my kinsman out of sight, I was both so impatient for a nearer look of the sea, and so sickened by the closeness of the room, that when he told me to “run down-stairs and play myself awhile,” I was fool enough to take him at his word. Away I went, therefore, leaving the two men sitting down to a bottle and a great mass of papers; and cross- ing the road in front of the inn, walked down upon the beach. With the wind in that quarter, only little wavelets, not much bigger than I had seen upon a lake, beat upon the shore. But the weeds were new to me - some green, some brown and long, and some with little bladders that crackled between my fingers. Even so far up the firth, the smell of the sea water was exceeding salt and stirring; the Covenant, besides, was beginning to shake out her sails, which hung upon the yards in clusters; and the spirit of all that I beheld put me in thoughts of far voyages and foreign places. I looked, too, at the seamen with the skiff — big brown fellows, some in shirts, some with jackets, some Kidnapped 293 Ome no lands, and if he but knew how to ride, might mount his horse to-morrow. All these pleasant things, and a thousand others, crowded into my mind, as I sat staring before me out of the inn window, and paying no heed to what I saw; only I remember that my eye lighted on Captain Hoseason down on the pier among his sea- men, and speaking with some authority. And pres- ently he came marching back towards the house, with no mark of a sailor's clumsiness, but carrying his fine, tall figure with a manly bearing, and still with the same sober, grave expression on his face. I wondered if it was possible that Ransome's stories could be true, and half disbelieved them; they fitted so ill with the man's looks. But indeed, he was neither so good as I supposed him, nor quite so bad as Ransome did; for, in fact, he was two men, and left the better one behind as soon as he set foot on board his vessel. The next thing, I heard my uncle calling me, and found the pair in the road together. It was the captain who addressed me, and that with an air (very flattering to a young lad) of grave equality. “Sir,” said he, “Mr. Balfour tells me great things of you; and for my own part, I like your looks. I wish I was for longer here, that we might make the better friends; but we'll make the most of what we have. Ye shall come on board my brig for half-an- hour, till the ebb sets, and drink a bowl with me.” Now, I longed to see the inside of a ship more than words can tell ; but I was not going to put myself in jeopardy, and I told him my uncle and I had an ap- pointment with a lawyer. “Ay, ay,” said he, “ he passed me word of that. 294 The Book of Adventure But, ye see, the boat'll set ye ashore at the town pier, and that's but a penny stonecast from Rankeillor's house.” And here he suddenly leaned down and whispered in my ear: “ Take care of the old tod; he means mischief. Come aboard till I can get a word with ye.” And then, passing his arm through mine, he continued aloud, as he set off towards his boat: “But come, what can I bring ye from the Carolinas? Any friend of Mr. Balfour's can command. A roll of tobacco ? Indian featherwork? A skin of a wild beast ? a stone pipe ? the mocking-bird that mews for all the world like a cat? the cardinal bird that is as red as blood ? — take your pick and say your pleasure.” By this time we were at the boat-side, and he was handing me in. I did not dream of hanging back; I thought (the poor fool!) that I had found a good friend and helper, and I was rejoiced to see the ship. As soon as we were all set in our places, the boat was thrust off from the pier and began to move over the waters; and what with my pleasure in this new movement and my surprise at our low position, and the appearance of the shores, and the growing bigness of the brig as we drew near to it, I could hardly understand what the captain said, and must have answered him at random. As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship's height, the strong humming of the 1 Fox, Kidnapped 295 m d tide against its sides, and the pleasant cries of the sea- men at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he and I must be the first aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from the main-yard. In this I was whipped into the air and set down again on the deck, where the captain stood ready waiting for me, and instantly slipped back his arm under mine. There I stood some while, a little dizzy with the unsteadiness of all around me, perhaps a little afraid, and yet vastly pleased with these strange sights; the captain meanwhile pointing out the strangest, and telling me their names and uses. “But where is my uncle ?” said I, suddenly. “Ay,” said Hoseason, with a sudden grimness, “ that's the point.” I felt I was lost. With all my strength, I plucked myself clear of him and ran to the bulwarks. Sure enough, there was the boat pulling for the town, with my uncle sitting in the stern. I gave a piercing cry - “Help, help! Murder!” — so that both sides of the anchorage rang with it, and my uncle turned round where he was sitting, and showed me a face full of cruelty and terror. It was the last I saw. Already strong hands had been plucking me back from the ship's side ; and now a thunderbolt seemed to strike me; I saw a great flash of fire, and fell senseless. I came to myself in darkness, in great pain, bound hand and foot, and deafened by many unfamiliar noises. There sounded in my ears a roaring of water as of a huge mill-dam; the thrashing of heavy sprays, the thundering of the sails, and the shrill cries of seamen. The whole world now heaved giddily up, and now Kidnapped 297 I had no measure of time; day and night were alike in that ill-smelling cavern of the ship's bowels where I lay; and the misery of my situation drew out the hours to double. How long, therefore, I lay waiting to hear the ship split upon some rock, or to feel her reel head foremost into the depths of the sea, I have not the means of computation. But sleep at length stole from me the consciousness of sorrow. I was wakened by the light of a hand-lantern shining in my face. A small man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, stood looking down at me. “Well,” said he, “ how goes it ?” I answered by a sob; and my visitor then felt my pulse and temples, and set himself to wash and dress the wound upon my scalp. “Ay,” said he, “ a sore dunt. What, man? Cheer up! The world's no done; you've made a bad start of it, but you'll make a better. Have you had any meat ?” I said I could not look at it; and thereupon he gave me some brandy and water in a tin pannikin, and left me once more to myself. The next time he came to see me, I was lying be- twixt sleep and waking, my eyes wide open in the darkness, the sickness quite departed, but succeeded by a horrid giddiness and swimming that was almost worse to bear. I ached, besides, in every limb, and the cords that bound me seemed to be of fire. The smell of the hole in which I lay seemed to have become a part of me; and during the long interval since his last visit, I had suffered tortures of fear, now from the scurrying of the 1 Stroke. 298 The Book of Adventure ship's rats that sometimes pattered on my very face, and now from the dismal imaginings that haunt the bed of fever. The glimmer of the lantern, as a trap opened, shone in like the heaven's sunlight; and though it only showed me the strong, dark beams of the ship that was my prison, I could have cried aloud for gladness. The man with the green eyes was the first to descend the ladder, and I noticed that he came somewhat unstead- ily. He was followed by the captain. Neither said a word; but the first set to and examined me, and dressed my wound as before, while Hoseason looked me in my face with an odd, black look. “Now, sir, you see for yourself,” said the first : “ a high fever, no appetite, no light, no meat: you see for yourself what that means.” “I am no conjurer, Mr. Riach,” said the captain. “Give me leave, sir,” said Riach ; “ you've a good head upon your shoulders, and a good Scotch tongue to ask with ; but I will leave you no manner of excuse: I want that boy taken out of this hole and put in the forecastle.” “What ye may want, sir, is a matter of concern to nobody but yoursel'," returned the captain ; “ but I can tell ye that which is to be. Here he is: here he shall bide.” “ Admitting that you have been paid in a propor- tion," said the other, “I will crave leave humbly to say that I have not. Paid I am, and none too much, to be the second officer of this old tub; and you ken very well if I do my best to earn it. But I was paid for nothing more." Kidnapped 299 “If ye could hold back your hand from the tin-pan, Mr. Riach, I would have no complaint to make of ye,” returned the skipper; “ and instead of asking riddles, I make bold to say that ye should keep your breath to cool your porridge. We'll be required on deck,” he added, in a sharper note, and set one foot upon the ladder. But Mr. Riach caught him by the sleeve. “ Admitting that you have been paid to do a murder _” he began. Hoseason turned upon him with a flash. 6 What's that?” he cried. “What kind of talk is that?” “It seems it is the talk that you can understand," said Mr. Riach, looking him steadily in the face. “Mr. Riach, I have sailed with ye three cruises,” replied the captain. “In all that time, sir, ye should have learned to know me: I'm a stiff man, and a dour man; but for what ye say the now — fy, fy! - it comes from a bad heart and a black conscience. If ye say the lad will die —”. “Ay, will he!” said Mr. Riach. 6 Well, sir, is not that enough ?” said Hoseason. “ Flit him where you please!” Thereupon the captain ascended the ladder; and I, who had lain silent throughout this strange conversa- tion, beheld Mr. Riach turn after him and bow as low as to his knees in what was plainly a spirit of derision. Even in my then state of sickness, I perceived two things ; that the mate was touched with liquor, as the captain hinted, and that (drunk or sober) he was like to prove a valuable friend. Kidnapped 301 many days shut up with them before I began to be ashamed of my first judgment, when I had drawn away from them at the Ferry pier, as though they had been unclean beasts. No class of man is altogether bad ; but each has its own faults and virtues; and these shipmates of mine were no exception to the rule. Rough they were, sure enough ; and bad, I suppose ; but they had many virtues. They were kind when it occurred to them, simple even beyond the simplicity of a country lad like me, and had some glimmerings of honesty. There was one man of maybe forty, that would sit on my berthside for hours, and tell me of his wife and child. He was a fisher that had lost his boat, and thus been driven to the deep-sea voyaging. Well, it is years ago now; but I have never forgotten him. His wife (who was “ young by him," as he often told me) waited in vain to see her man return; he would never again make the fire for her in the morning, nor yet keep the bairn when she was sick. Indeed, many of these poor fellows (as the event proved) were upon their last cruise; the deep seas and cannibal fish received them; and it is a thankless business to speak ill of the dead. Among other good deeds that they did, they returned my money which had been shared among them; and though it was about a third short, I was very glad to get it, and hoped great good from it in the land I was going to. The ship was bound for the Carolinas; and you must not suppose that I was going to that place merely as an exile. The trade was even then much depressed; since, and with the rebellion of the colo- nies and the formation of the United States, it has, of course, come to an end; but in those days of my youth, as 302 The Book of Adventure er W white men were still sold into slavery on the planta- tions, and that was the destiny to which my wicked uncle had condemned me. The cabin-boy Ransome (from whom I had first heard of these atrocities) came in at times from the round- house, where he berthed and served, now nursing a bruised limb in silent agony, now raving against the cruelty of Mr. Shuan. It made my heart bleed; but the men had a great respect for the chief mate, who was, as they said, “ the only seaman of the whole jing- bang, and none such a bad man when he was sober.” Indeed, I found there was a strange peculiarity about our two mates : that Mr. Riach was sullen, unkind, and harsh when he was sober, and Mr. Shuan would not hurt a fly except when he was drinking. I asked about the captain; but I was told drink made no differ- ence upon that man of iron. I did my best in the small time allowed me to make something like a man, or rather I should say something like a boy, of the poor creature, Ransome. But his mind was scarce truly human. He could remember nothing of the time before he came to sea ; only that his father had made clocks, and had a starling in the parlor, which could whistle “ The North Countrie”; all else had been blotted out in these years of hardship and cruelties. He had a strange notion of the dry land, picked up from sailors' stories : that it was a place where lads were put to some kind of slavery called a trade, and where apprentices were continually lashed and clapped into foul prisons. In a town, he thought every second person a decoy, and every third house a place in which seamen would be drugged and Kidnapped 303 murdered. To be sure, I could tell him how kindly I had myself been used upon that dry land he was so much afraid of, and how well fed and carefully taught both by my friends and my parents: and if he had been recently hurt, he would weep bitterly and swear to run away; but if he was in his usual crackbrain humor or (still more) if he had had a glass of spirits in the round-house, he would deride the notion. It was Mr. Riach (Heaven forgive him !) who gave the boy drink; and it was, doubtless, kindly meant; but besides that it was ruin to his health; it was the pitifullest thing in life to see this unhappy, unfriended creature staggering, and dancing, and talking he knew not what. Some of the men laughed, but not all; others would grow as black as thunder (thinking, per- haps, of their own childhood or their own children) and bid him stop that nonsense, and think what he was doing. As for me, I felt ashamed to look at him, and the poor child still comes about me in my dreams. All this time, you should know, the Covenant was meeting continual head-winds and tumbling up and down against head-seas, so that the scuttle was almost constantly shut, and the forecastle lighted only by a swinging lantern on a beam. There was constant labor for all hands; the sails had to be made and shortened every hour; the strain told on the men's temper; there was a growl of quarrelling all day long from berth to berth; and as I was never allowed to set my foot on deck, you can picture to yourselves how weary of my life I grew to be, and how impatient for a change. And a change I was to get, as you shall hear; but I 304 The Book of Adventure must first tell of a conversation I had with Mr. Riach, which put a little heart in me to bear my troubles. Getting him in a favorable stage of drink (for indeed he never looked near me when he was sober) I pledged him to secrecy, and told him my whole story. He declared it was like a ballad ; that he would do his best to help me; that I should have paper, pen, and ink, and write one line to Mr. Campbell and an- other to Mr. Rankeillor; and that if I had told the truth, ten to one he would be able (with their help) to pull me through and set me in my rights. “And in the meantime,” says he,“ keep your heart up. You're not the only one, I'll tell you that. There's many a man hoeing tobacco over-seas that should be mounting his horse at his own door at home; many and many! And life is all a variorum, at the best. Look at me: I'm a laird's son and more than half a doctor, and here I am, man-Jack to Hoseason !” I thought it would be civil to ask him for his story. He whistled loud. “Never had one,” said he. “I liked fun, that's all." And he skipped out of the forecastle. 306 The Book of Adventure folly that good gift of God — tobacco. I was ready to destroy Hirnam Singh that ever he had come nigh her; and the more because he had sworn to her that she had a lover, and that he would lie in wait and give the name to the headman unless she went away with him. What curs are these Sikhs ! After that news I swam always with a little sharp knife in my belt, and evil would it have been for a man had he stayed me. I knew not the face of Hir- nam Singh, but I would have killed any who came between me and her. Upon a night in the beginning of the rains I was minded to go across to Pateera, albeit the river was angry. Now the nature of the Barhwi is this, sahib. In twenty breaths it comes down from the hills, a wall three feet high, and I have seen it, between the light- ing of a fire and the cooking of a flapjack, grow from the runnel to a sister of the Jumna. When I left this bank there was a shoal a half mile down, and I made shift to fetch it and draw breath there ere going forward; for I felt the hands of the river heavy upon my heels. Yet what will a young man not do for Love's sake? There was but little light from the stars, and midway to the shoal a branch of the stinking deodar-tree brushed my mouth as I swam. That was a sign of heavy rain in the foothills and beyond, for the deodar is a strong tree, not easily shaken from the hillsides. I made haste, the river aiding me, but ere I had touched the shoal the pulse of the stream beat, as it were, within me and around, and, behold, the shoal was gone and I rode high on the crest of a wave that ran from bank to bank. Has the man In Flood Time 307 V IRRIDIVA IRINTUI INNON VIII IL WSTE sahib ever been cast into much water that fights and will not let a man use his limbs? To me, my head up on the water, it seemed as though there were naught but water to the world's end, and the river drove me with its driftwood. A man is a very little thing in the belly of a flood. And this flood, though I knew it not, was the Great Flood about which men talk still. My liver was dissolved and I lay like a dog upon my back in the fear of death. There were living things in the water, crying and howling grievously — beasts of the forest, and cattle, and once the voice of a man asking for help. But the rain came and lashed the water white, and I heard no more save the roar of the boulders be- low and the roar of the rain above. Thus I was whirled down-stream, wrestling for the breath in me. It is : very hard to die when one is young. Can the sahib, standing here, see the railway bridge ? Look, there are the lights of the mail-train going to Peshawur! The bridge is now twenty feet above the river, but upon that night the water was roaring against the lattice-work, and against the lattice came I feet first. But much driftwood was piled there and upon the piers, and I took no great hurt. Only the river pressed me as a strong man presses a weaker. Scarcely could I take hold of the lattice-work and crawl to the upper boom. Sahib, the water was foaming INSON 308 The Book of Adventure across the rails a foot deep! Judge, therefore, what manner of flood it must have been. I could not hear. I could not see. I could but lie on the boom and pant for breath. After a while the rain ceased and there came out in the sky certain new washed stars, and by their light I saw that there was no end to the black water as far as the eye could travel, and the water had risen upon the rails. There were dead beasts in the driftwood on the piers, and others caught by the neck in the lattice- work, and others not yet drowned who strove to find a foothold on the lattice-work — buffaloes and kine, and wild pig, and deer one or two, and snakes and jackals past all counting. Their bodies were black upon the left side of the bridge, but the smaller of them were forced through the lattice-work and whirled down-stream. Thereafter the stars died and the rain came down afresh and the river rose yet more, and I felt the bridge begin to stir under me as a man stirs in his sleep ere he wakes. But I was not afraid, sahib. I swear to you that I was not afraid, though I had no power in my limbs. I knew that I should not die till I had seen her once more. But I was very cold, and I felt that the bridge must go. There was a trembling in the water, such a trembling as goes before the coming of a great wave, and the bridge lifted its flank to the rush of that coming so that the right lattice dipped under water and the left rose clear. On my beard, sahib, I am speaking God's truth ! As a Miza pore stone-boat careens to the wind, so the Barhwi Bridge turned. Just thus and in no other manner. 3 In Flood Time 309 I slid from the boom into deep water, and behind me came the wave of wrath of the river. I heard its voice and the scream of the middle part of the bridge as it moved from the piers and sunk, and I knew no more till I rose in the middle of the great flood. I put forth my hand to swim, and lo! it fell upon the knotted hair of a man. He was dead, for no one but I, the Strong One of Barhwi, could have lived in that race. He had been dead full two days, for he rode high, wallowing, and was an aid to me. I laughed then, knowing for a surety that I should yet see her and take no harm ; and I twisted my fingers in the hair of the man, for I was far spent, and together we went down the stream — he the dead and I the living. Lacking that help, I should have sunk; the cold was in my marrow, and my flesh was ribbed and sodden on my bones. But he had no fear who had known the uttermost of the power of the river; and I let him go where he chose. At last we came into the power of a side-current that set to the right bank, and I strove with my feet to draw with it. But the dead man swung heavily in the whirl, and I feared that some branch had struck him and that he would sink. The tops of the tamarisk brushed my knees, so I knew we were come into flood-water above the crops, and, after I let down my legs and felt bottom — the ridge of a field — and, after the dead man stayed upon a knoll under a fig- tree, and I drew my body from the water rejoicing. Does the sahib know whither the back-wash of the flood had borne me? To the knoll which is the eastern boundary mark of the village of Pateera! No other place. I drew the dead man upon the grass for the In Flood Time 311 Before the breaking of the day we two parted, and I moved toward such of the jungle as was not flooded. With the full light I saw what I had done in the dark- ness, and the bones of my body were loosened in my flesh, for there ran two kos of raging water between the village of Pateera and the trees of the far bank, and, in the middle, the piers of the Barhwi Bridge showed like broken teeth in the jaw of an old man. Nor was there any life upon the waters — neither birds nor boats, but only an army of drowned things — bullocks and horses and men — and the river was redder than blood from the clay of the foot-hills. Never had I seen such a flood — never since that year have I seen the like — and, oh, sahib, no man living had done what I had done. There was no return for me that day. Not for all the lands of the headman would I venture a second time without the shield of darkness that cloaks danger. I went a kos up the river to the house of a blacksmith, saying that the flood had swept me from my hut, and they gave me food. Seven days I stayed with the blacksmith, till a boat came and I returned to my house. There was no trace of wall, or roof, or floor — naught but a patch of slimy mud. Judge, therefore, sahib, how far the river must have risen. It was written that I should not die, either in my house, or in the heart of the Barhwi, or under the wreck of the Barhwi Bridge, for God sent down Hirnam Singh two days dead, though I know not how the man died, to be my buoy and support. W THE ADVENTURES OF A BOY AMONG THE RED INDIANS (FROM Tanner's CAPTIVITY.) mutilenio U HE earliest event of my life which I distinctly remember (says John Tanner) is the death of my mother. This happened when I was two years old, and many of the attending circum- stances made so deep an impression that they are still fresh in my memory. I can- not recollect the name of the settlement at which we lived, but I have since learned it was on the Kentucky River, at a considerable distance from the Ohio. My father, whose name was John Tanner, was an emigrant from Virginia, and had been a clergyman. When about to start one morning to a village at some distance, he gave, as it appeared, a strict charge to my sisters, Agatha and Lucy, to send me to school; but this they neglected to do until afternoon, and then, as the weather was rainy and unpleasant, I insisted on remaining at home. When my father returned at night, and found that I had been at home all day, he som 312 Adventures of a Boy Among Red Indians 313 en sent me for a parcel of small canes, and flogged me much more severely than I could suppose the offence merited. I was displeased with my sisters for attribu- ting all the blame to me, when they had neglected even to tell me to go to school in the forenoon. From that time, my father's house was less like home to me, and I often thought and said, “I wish I could go and live among the Indians.” One day we went from Cincinnati to the mouth of the Big Miami, opposite which we were to settle. Here was some cleared land, and one or two log cabins, but they had been deserted on account of the Indians. My father rebuilt the cabins, and enclosed them with a strong picket. It was early in the spring when we arrived at the mouth of the Big Miami, and we were soon engaged in preparing a field to plant corn. I think it was not more than ten days after our arrival, when my father told us in the morning, that, from the actions of the horses, he perceived there were Indians lurking about in the woods, and he said to me, “ John, you must not go out of the house to-day.” After giving strict charge to my stepmother to let none of the little children go out, he went to the field, with the negroes, and my elder brother, to drop corn. Three little children, besides myself, were left in the house with my stepmother. To prevent me from going out, my stepmother required me to take care of the little child, then not more than a few months old; but as I soon became impatient of confinement, I began to pinch my little brother, to make him cry. My mother, perceiving his uneasiness, told me to take him in my arms and walk about the house ; I did so, but continued Adventures of a Boy Among Red Indians 315 TA Waa2 done something to irritate this last, for he took me a little to one side, and drawing his tomahawk, motioned to me to look up. This I plainly understood, from the expression of his face, and his manner, to be a We direction for me to look up for the last time, as I he was about to kill me. I did as he directed, but Kish-kau-ko caught his hand as the toma- hawk was descending, and prevented him from burying it in my brains. Loud talking ensued between the two. Kish-kau-ko presently raised a yell: the old man and four others answered it by a similar yell, and came run- ning up. I have since un sulina derstood that Kish-kau-ko complained to his father that the short man had made an attempt to kill his little brother, as he called me. The old chief, after reproving him, took me by one hand, and Kish-kau-ko by the other, and dragged me betwixt them, the man who had threatened to kill me, and who was now an object of terror to me, being kept at some distance. I could perceive, as I retarded them somewhat in their retreat, that they were apprehensive of being overtaken; some of them were always at some distance from us. It was about one mile from my father's house to the place where they threw me into a hickory-bark canoe, which was concealed under the bushes, on the bank of the river. Into this they all seven jumped, and imme- diately crossed the Ohio, landing at the mouth of the Big Miami, and on the south side of that river. Here Adventures of a Boy Among Red Indians 317 I saw my Indian mother and sister standing by me, and perceived that my face and head were wet. The old woman and her daughter were crying bitterly, but it was some time before I perceived that my head was badly cut and bruised. It appears that, after I had fallen asleep, Manito-o-geezhik, passing that way, had perceived me, had tomahawked me, and thrown me in the bushes; and that when he came to his camp he had said to his wife, “ Old woman, the boy I brought you is good for nothing; I have killed him ; you will find him in such a place.” The old woman and her daughter having found me, discovered still some signs of life, and had stood over me a long time, crying, and pouring cold water on my head, when I waked. In a few days I recovered in some measure from this hurt, and was again set to work at the screen, but I was more care- ful not to fall asleep; I endeavored to assist them at their labors, and to comply in all instances with their directions, but I was notwithstanding treated with great harshness, particularly by the old man, and his two sons She-mung and Kwo-tash-e. While we remained at the hunting camp, one of them put a bridle in my hand, and pointing in a certain direction motioned me to go. I went accordingly, supposing he wished me to bring a horse: I went and caught the first I could find, and in this way I learned to discharge such services as they required of me. I had been about two years at Sau-ge-nong, when a great council was called by the British agents at Mac- kinac. This council was attended by the Sioux, the Winnebagoes, the Menomonees, and many remote tribes, as well as by the Ojibbeways, Ottawwaws, etc. SO e rem 318 The Book of Adventure When old Manito-o-geezhik returned from this council, I soon learned that he had met there his kinswoman, Net-no-kwa, who, notwithstanding her sex, was then regarded as principal chief of the Ottawwaws. This woman had lost her son, of about my age, by death ; and, having heard of me, she wished to purchase me to supply his place. My old Indian mother, the Otter woman, when she heard of this, protested vehemently against it. I heard her say, “ My son has been dead once, and has been restored to me; I cannot lose him again.” But these remonstrances had little influence when Net-no-kwa arrived with plenty of whiskey and other presents. She brought to the lodge first a ten- gallon keg of whiskey, blankets, tobacco, and other articles of great value. She was perfectly acquainted with the dispositions of those with whom she had to negotiate. Objections were made to the exchange until the contents of the keg had circulated for some time; then an additional keg, and a few more pres- ents, completed the bargain, and I was transferred to Net-no-kwa. This woman, who was then advanced in years, was of a more pleasing aspect than my former mother. She took me by the hand, after she had com- pleted the negotiation with my former possessors, and led me to her own lodge, which stood near. Here I soon found I was to be treated more indulgently than I had been. She gave me plenty of food, put good clothes upon me, and told me to go and play with her own sons. We remained but a short time at Sau-ge- nong. She would not stop with me at Mackinac, which we passed in the night, but ran along to Point St. Ignace, where she hired some Indians to take care Adventures of a Boy Among Red Indians 319 WC of me, while she returned to Mackinac by herself, or with one or two of her young men. After finishing her business at Mackinac, she returned, and, continuing on our journey, we arrived in a few days at Shab-a-wy- wy-a-gun. The husband of Net-no-kwa was an Ojibbeway of Red River, called Taw-ga-we-ninne, the hunter. He was seventeen years younger than Net-no-kwa, and had turned off a former wife on being married to her. Taw-ga-we-ninne was always indulgent and kind to me, treating me like an equal, rather than as a dependant. When speaking to me, he always called me his son. Indeed, he himself was but of secondary importance in the family, as everything belonged to Net-no-kwa, and she had the direction in all affairs of any moment. She imposed on me, for the first year, some tasks. She made me cut wood, bring home game, bring water, and per- form other services not commonly required of the boys of my age; but she treated me invariably with so much kindness that I was far more happy and content than I had been in the family of Manito-o-geezhik. She sometimes whipped me, as she did her own children : but I was not so severely and frequently beaten as I had been before. Early in the spring, Net-no-kwa' and her husband, with their family, started to go to Mackinac. They left me, as they had done before, at Point St. Ignace, as they would not run the risk of losing me by suffering me to be seen at Mackinac. On our return, after we had gone twenty-five or thirty miles from Point St. Ignace, we were detained by contrary winds at a place called Me-nau-ko-king, a point running out into the me e 320 The Book of Adventure lake. · Here we encamped with some other Indians, and a party of traders. Pigeons were very numerous in the woods, and the boys of my age, and the traders, were busy shooting them. I had never killed any game, and, indeed, had never in my life discharged a gun. My mother had purchased at Mackinac a keg of powder, which, as they thought it a little damp, was here spread out to dry. Taw-ga-we-ninne had a large horseman's pistol; and, finding myself somewhat em- boldened by his indulgent manner toward me, I re- quested permission to go and try to kill some pigeons with the pistol. My request was seconded by Net-no- kwa, who said, “ It is time for our son to begin to learn to be a hunter.” Accordingly, my father, as I called Taw-ga-we-ninne, loaded the pistol and gave it to me, saying, “ Go, my son, and if you kill anything with this, you shall immediately have a gun and learn to hunt.” Since I have been a man, I have been placed in difficult situations; but my anxiety for success was never greater than in this, my first essay as a hunter. I had not gone far from the camp before I met with pigeons, and some of them alighted in the bushes very near me. I cocked my pistol, and raised it to my face, bringing the breech almost in contact with my nose. Having brought the sight to bear upon the pigeon, I pulled the trigger, and was in the next instant sensible of a humming noise, like that a of stone sent swiftly through the air. I found the pistol at a dis- tance of some paces behind me, and the pigeon under the tree on which he had been sitting. My face was much bruised, and covered with blood. I ran home, carrying my pigeon in triumph. My face was speedily 322 The Book of Adventure sins, and be ready to move. She then called Wa-me- gon-a-biew to her, and said to him, in rather a low voice, “My son, last night I sung and prayed to the Great Spirit, and when I slept, there came to me one like a man, and said to me, “Net-no-kwa, to-morrow you shall eat a bear. There is, at a distance from the path you are to travel to-morrow, and in such a direc- tion'” (which she described to him), “6 a small round meadow, with something like a path leading from it; in that path there is a bear. Now, my son, I wish you to go to that place, without mentioning to anyone what I have said, and you will certainly find the bear, as I have described to you.” But the young man, who was not particularly dutiful, or apt to regard what his mother said, going out of the lodge, spoke sneer- ingly to the other Indians of the dream. “The old woman,” said he, “ tells me we are to eat a bear to-day; but I do not know who is to kill it.” The old woman, hearing him, called him in, and reproved him ; but she could not prevail upon him to go to hunt. I had my gun with me, and I continued to think of the conversation I had heard between my mother and Wa-me-gon-a-biew respecting her dream. At length I resolved to go in search of the place she had spoken of, and without mentioning to anyone my design, I loaded my gun as for a bear, and set off on our back track. I soon met a woman belonging to one of the brothers of Taw-ga-we-ninne, and of course my aunt. This woman had shown little friendship for us, considering us as a burden upon her husband, who sometimes gave some- thing for our support; she had also often ridiculed me. She asked me immediately what I was doing on the Adventures of a Boy Among Red Indians 325 One winter I hunted for a trader called by the Indians Aneeb, which means an elm-tree. As the winter advanced, and the weather became more and more cold, I found it difficult to procure as much game as I had been in the habit of supplying, and as was wanted by the trader. Early one morning, about mid- winter, I started an elk. I pursued until night, and had almost overtaken him; but hope and strength failed me at the same time. What clothing I had on me, notwithstanding the extreme coldness of the weather, was drenched with sweat. It was not long after I turned towards home that I felt it stiffening about me. My leggings were of cloth, and were torn in pieces in running through the bush. I was conscious I was somewhat frozen before I arrived at the place where I had left our lodge standing in the morning, and it was now midnight. I knew it had been the old woman's intention to move, and I knew where she would go; but I had not been informed she would go on that day. As I followed on their path, I soon ceased to suffer from cold, and felt that sleeping sen- sation which I knew preceded the last stage of weak- ness in such as die of cold. I redoubled my efforts, but with an entire consciousness of the danger of my situ- ation ; it was with no small difficulty that I could pre- vent myself from lying down. At length I lost all consciousness for some time, how long I cannot tell, and, awaking as from a dream, I found I had been walking round and round in a small circle not more than twenty or twenty-five yards over. After the return of my senses, I looked about to try to discover my path, as I had missed it; but, while I was looking, La lore 326 The Book of Adventure TO I discovered a light at a distance, by which I directed my course. Once more, before I reached the lodge, I lost my senses; but I did not fall down; if I had, I should never have got up again; but I ran round and round in a circle as before. When I at last came into the lodge, I immediately fell down, but I did not lose myself as before. I can remember seeing the thick and sparkling coat of frost on the inside of the pukkwi lodge, and hearing my mother say that she had kept a large fire in expectation of my arrival; and that she had not thought I should have been so long gone in the morning, but that I should have known long before night of her having moved. It was a month before I was able to go out again, my face, hands, and legs having been much frozen. There is, on the bank of the Little Saskawjewun, a place which looks like one the Indians would always choose to encamp at. In a bend of the river is a beau- tiful landing-place, behind it a little plain, a thick wood, and a small hill rising abruptly in the rear. But with that spot is connected a story of fratricide, a crime so uncommon that the spot where it happened is held in detestation, and regarded with terror. No Indian will land his canoe, much less encamp, at “ the place of the two dead men.” They relate that many years ago the Indians were encamped here, when a quarrel arose between two brothers, having she-she-gwi for totems.' One drew his knife and slew the other; but those of the band who were present, looked upon the crime as so horrid that, without hesitation or delay, they killed the murderer, and buried them together. i The totem is the crest of the Indians. 328 The Book of Adventure Among other things which they said to me, one of them told me to look at the top of the little hill which stood near. I did so, and saw a horse fettered, and standing looking at me. “ There, my brother,” said the ghost, “is a horse which I give you to ride on your journey to-morrow; and as you pass here on your way home, you can call and leave the horse, and spend an- other night with us.” At last came the morning, and I was in no small degree pleased to find that with the darkness of the night these terrifying visions vanished. But my long residence among the Indians, and the frequent instances in which I had known the imitations of dreams verified, occasioned me to think seriously of the horse the ghost had given me. Accordingly I went to the top of the hill, where I discovered tracks and other signs, and, following a little distance, found a horse, which I knew belonged to the trader I was going to see. As several miles' travel might be saved by crossing from this point on the little Saskawjewun to the Assinneboin, I left the canoe, and having caught the horse, and put my load upon him, led him towards the trading-house where I arrived next day. In all subsequent journeys through this country, I carefully shunned “the place of the two dead”; and the account I gave of what I had seen and suffered there confirmed the superstitious terrors of the Indians. I was standing by our lodge one evening, when I saw a good-looking young woman walking about and smok- ing. She noticed me from time to time, and at last came up and asked me to smoke with her. I answered that I never smoked. “You do not wish to touch my Adventures of a Boy Among Red Indians 329 pipe; for that reason you will not smoke with me." I took her pipe and smoked a little, though I had not been in the habit of smoking before. She remained some time, and talked with me, and I began to be pleased with her. After this we saw each other often, and I became gradually attached to her. I mention this because it was to this woman that I was afterwards married, and because the commencement of our acquaintance was not after the usual manner of the Indians. Among them it most commonly happens, even when a young man marries a woman of his own band, he has previously had no personal acquaintance with her. They have seen each other in the village; he has perhaps looked at her in passing, but it is prob- able they have never spoken together. The match is agreed on by the old people, and when their intention is made known to the young couple, they commonly find, in themselves, no objection to the arrangement, as they know, should it prove disagreeable mutually, or to either party, it can at any time be broken off. I now redoubled my diligence in hunting, and com- monly came home with meat in the early part of the day, at least before night. I then dressed myself as handsomely as I could, and walked about the village, sometimes blowing the Pe-be-gwun, or flute. For some time Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa pretended she was not willing to marry me, and it was not, perhaps, until she per- ceived some abatement of ardor on my part that she laid this affected coyness entirely aside. For my own part, I found that my anxiety to take a wife home to my lodge was rapidly becoming less and less. I made several efforts to break off the intercourse, and visit her om- Adventures of a Boy Among Red Indians 331 was, in part, conscious of the justness of Net-no-kwa's reproaches, and in part prompted by inclination ; I went in and sat down by the side of Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa, and thus we became man and wife. Old Net-no-kwa had, while I was absent at Red River, without my knowledge or consent, made her bargain with the parents of the young woman, and brought her home, rightly supposing that it would be no difficult matter to reconcile me to the measure. In most of the marriages which happen between young persons, the parties most interested have less to do than in this case. The amount of presents which the parents of a woman expect to receive in ex- change for her diminishes in proportion to the number of husbands she may have had. I now began to attend to some of the ceremonies of what may be called the initiation of warriors, this being the first time I had been on a war-party. For the first three times that a man accompanies a war-party, the customs of the Indians require some peculiar and pain- ful observances, from which old warriors may, if they choose, be exempted. The young warrior must con- stantly paint his face black; must wear a cap, or head- dress of some kind; must never precede the old warriors, but follow them, stepping in their tracks. He must never scratch his head, or any other part of his body, with his fingers, but if he is compelled to scratch he must use a small stick; the vessel he eats or drinks out of, or the knife he uses, must be touched by no other person. The young warrior, however long and fatiguing the march, must neither eat, nor drink, nor sit down by day; if he halts for a moment, he must turn his face 332 The Book of Adventure towards his own country, that the Great Spirit may see that it is his wish to return home again. It was Tanner's wish to return home again, and after many dangerous and disagreeable adventures he did at last, when almost an old man, come back to the Whites and tell his history, which, as he could not write, was taken down at his dictation. CHETTERILISANTECHNISCH E A CAPTIVE IN THE CAUCASUS BY COUNT L. N. TOLSTOÏ. | YOUNG man named Zhilin was an offi- cer serving in the Caucasus. A letter from his old mother at home came to him one time. It said :- “I am getting old, and before I die I should like to see my dear boy once more. Come and bid me good-by, bury me, and then go back into the army again with God's blessing. However, I have found a wife for you, sen- sible and pretty and fairly well off. If she should please you, you can marry her and settle down.” Zhilin said to himself: “Indeed, the old lady is in a bad way; I may not see her again. I'll go, and if the girl is nice — why, I might get married.” He went to his colonel, secured a furlough, shook hands with his comrades, and made his arrangements to depart. At that time there was fighting in the Caucasus. The roads were not safe either by day or night. If any Russian walked or rode away from the fortified 333 334 The Book of Adventure post, the Tartars were certain to kill him or carry him off into the mountains ; so arrangements were made for soldiers to do escort duty twice a week from one for- tress to another, riding in front and behind, and keeping the travellers safe between them. This was in the summer, so they started at sunrise, making up the train behind the fortress; the convoy of soldiers pushed ahead and the train followed along the road. Zhilin was on horseback, and his cart with his lug- gage went with the train. They had about twenty-five kilometers to go, and it was slow travelling: sometimes the soldiers would halt, now a wheel would come off or a horse would balk, and then the whole train would come to a halt. It was already past noon and they had not accom- plished half of the journey. The sun was fiery hot; it was dusty, and there was no shelter (not a tree or a bush) anywhere along the bare steppe. Zhilin would gallop ahead, then stop and wait until the train caught up with him. He would hear the trumpet signalling to halt again. And he said to him- self: - “Why not go on alone without the soldiers ? My mount is a good one. If the Tartars attack me I can outstrip them. Or had I better wait?” And while he was deliberating another officer, named Kostuilin, who had a gun, joined him on horseback and said:- “Come on, Zhilin; let's ride on alone. I'm dead hun- gry and it's roasting hot. You could wring my shirt out.” A Captive in the Caucasus 337 Zhilin, though not very tall, was plucky. He drew his sabre, spurred his horse straight at the red-bearded Tartar, and said to himself, “I'll either knock him off his horse or cut him down with my sabre.” But Zhilin did not reach where the horse was ; shots were heard from behind; the horse was hit and fell headlong, pinning Zhilin down by the leg. He tried to get up, but before he had a chance to move two ill- smelling Tartars were sitting on him, and fastening his arms behind his back. He broke from them, knocking them away, but three others had already sprung from their horses, and began to pound him over the head with their gun-stocks. A darkness came over his eyes and he staggered. The Tartars seized him, took from their saddles extra ropes, bent his arms behind him, fastened them behind his back with a Tartar knot, and dragged him up to the saddle. They knocked off his cap, pulled his boots off, searched him thoroughly, took his money and his watch, and tore his clothes all to pieces. Zhilin glanced at his horse. She, poor creature, was lying as she fell, on her side; she was kicking, but her legs could not reach the ground; there was a hole in her head, from which the black blood was pouring and staining the dust all around. One Tartar went up to the horse and began to take the saddle off. As she was still struggling, he drew his dagger and cut her throat. There was a whistling sound from the wind- pipe, she shivered, and her life fled. The Tartars took the saddle and everything else. The one with the red beard mounted, and the others lifted Zhilin up behind him ; and, that he might not wa 338 The Book of Adventure fall off, they tied him by a strap to the Tartar's belt ; then they set off for the mountains. Zhilin sat behind, swaying and bumping his face against the back of the stinking Tartar. All he could see before him was the healthy Tartar back, the sinewy neck, and the shaven nape showing under the cap. Zhilin's head was splitting, blood was trickling down into his eyes, and he could neither get into a more comfortable position nor wipe away the blood. His arms were so tied that it made his collar-bones ache. They rode a long distance from mountain to moun- tain; they crossed a river by a ford; they entered a road and proceeded along a valley. Zhilin wanted to observe the route by which they took him, but his eye- lids were stuck together with blood, and he could not turn round. It began to grow dark. They crossed still another river, and began to climb a stony mountain ; there was a smell of smoke; dogs were barking; they had reached an aul or Tartar village. The men dis- mounted ; a lot of children began to collect around Zhilin, whistling, exulting, and even throwing stones at him. A man drove the children off, lifted Zhilin from the horse, and summoned a servant. A Nogaï with prominent cheek-bones and wearing nothing but a torn shirt, which showed his bare chest, responded. The Tartar addressed some command to him. The servant brought a foot-stock or clog, consisting of two oaken blocks provided with iron rings, and in one of them was a clamp and a lock. They released Zhilin's arms, fastened him into the clog, and, taking him to a shed, pushed him in and shut the door. Zhilin fell on dung, A Captive in the Caucasus 339 and there as he lay he felt around in the darkness and tried to find a softer spot. All that night Zhilin scarcely slept. The nights were short, and he soon began to see day- light shining through a chink. He got up, enlarged the chink, and looked out. He could see a road lead- ing down the hill, at the right a Tartar hut with two trees, a black dog lying on the threshold, a goat wandering about with her kids, twitching their tails, a young Tartar woman mounting the hill ; she was dressed in a loose colored smock, trousers and boots, with a kaftan covering her head, on which she carried a large tin pitcher of water. As she walked along her back wriggled and she bent forward. She led by the hand a shaven-headed Tartar boy, who wore nothing but a shirt. The woman took the water into the hut, and out came the red-bearded Tartar of the evening before, wearing a silk beshmet, or shirt, with a silver dagger hanging to his belt, and slippers on his bare feet. On the back of his head was a high black sheep-skin cap. He came out, stretched himself, and stroked his red beard. He stood a little while, gave some orders to his workman, and went off. Then two boys rode by on horseback; they had been to the spring, and the noses of the horses were still wet. Several other boys with shaven heads, in shirts without breeches, came up, gathered in a group, approached the shed, took a stick, and tried to thrust it through the clink. Zhilin shouted at them, and they ran away and disappeared: only their bare little knees could be seen gleaming. 340 The Book of Adventure Now Zhilin was very thirsty; his throat was parched; he said to himself:- “If only some one would come!” Soon he heard some one opening the shed. The red- bearded Tartar came in accompanied by a shorter and dark-faced man with bright black eyes, red cheeks, and a small close-trimmed beard. He had a jolly face, and was always laughing. He was still more richly dressed: his beshmet was of blue silk and embroidered with silver tape. He wore a large silver-mounted dag- ger at his waist; his little slippers were of red morocco embroidered also with silver, and over the delicate red slippers were thick shoes. He wore a high white sheep- skin cap. The red-bearded Tartar approached, made some re- mark in an angry tone of voice, and stood leaning against the door-post, fingering his dagger and glaring askance at Zhilin like a wolf. But the dark one, alert and quick, as if he were all made of springs, also came along, went straight up to Zhilin, squatted down, grinned, patted Zhilin on the back, and began to jabber something in his own patois, winked his eyes, clacked his tongue, and kept saying :- “ Korosho, Urus — Well, Russ, well, Russ ! ” Zhilin did not know what he meant and said :- “Water, give me water.” The dark one laughed: “ Korosh, Urus — Well, Russ !” — still in his own patois. Zhilin made signs with his lips and his hands that they should give him water to drink. The dark Tartar understood, laughed, looked out of the door and called some one: - some o e- 342 The Book of Adventure Zhilin started up with his foot-clog, but found it almost impossible to walk with the encumbrance. Still he managed to follow the Nogaï. He saw a Tartar village of a dozen houses and their mosque with its dome. In front of one of the houses stood three horses with their saddles on. Boys were holding them by their bridles. The dark Tartar came running out of this house, and beckoned for Zhilin to follow him. Still grinning and saying something in his patois he re- entered. Zhilin went into the house: the room was decent, the walls smoothly plastered with clay. In front against the wall gayly-colored down beds were placed; on the side walls hung precious rugs; on the rugs were muskets, pistols, and sabres, all mounted in silver. On one side of the room was a small stove, level with the floor, which was made of earth, and as clean as a threshing-floor; all the front part of it was covered with felt, and on the felt were rugs, and on the rugs were soft cushions. Tartars with nothing but slippers on their feet were sitting on the rugs: the dark one, the red one, and three guests. All had fat cush- ions at their backs, and in front of them, on a round tray, were flat cakes and melted butter in a cup, and Tartar beer called buza in a pitcher. They ate with their fingers, and their hands were all covered with grease. The dark one jumped up, ordered Zhilin to take a seat on one side, not on the rug but on the bare floor; then he climbed up on his rug again, and treated his guests to more flat cakes and buza. The servant put Zhilin in his place, then having A Captive in the Caucasus 347 were remov wer as Again he came jumping up to Zhilin and patted him on the shoulder. “Thy good, me good.” Zhilin wrote the letter, but addressed it wrongly so that it might not reach its destination, saying to him- self, “I will escape!” Zhilin and Kostuilin were taken to the shed; In- dian wheat straw was brought to them; a pitcher of water, some bread, two old cherkeskes, and some worn-out military boots which evidently had been taken from dead soldiers. When night came their clogs were removed and they were locked in the shed. Thus Zhilin lived with his comrade for a whole month. His master was always jolly: “Thy, Ivan, good, me, Abdul, good.” But he fed them badly, giv- ing them nothing but unleavened bread made out of millet meal baked in flat cakes, and sometimes nothing but unbaked dough. Kostuilin wrote home a second time, and was eagerly waiting for the arrival of the money. Meantime he moped, sitting all day long for days at a time in the shed, counting the time till the letter should arrive, or else sleeping. But Zhilin knew well that his letter would never reach home, and he did not write another. “Where would my mother get the money to pay for my ransom ?” he would ask him- self. “As it was she lived mainly on what I sent her. If she should have to raise five hundred rubles, it would be the end of her. God willing, I will escape yet.” And he kept his eyes open, contriving how he might escape. He would walk about the village whistling, or sit engaged in some handicraft, either manufactur- A Captive in the Caucasus 351 V his turban leaning on his staff, and glare around him like a wolf. As soon as he saw Zhilin he would snort in his displeasure and turn away. One day Zhilin went down the mountain to see where the old man lived. As he walked along the path he saw a small garden and a stone wall, and on the other side of the wall were cherry-trees, apricots, and a little hut with a flat roof. As he went nearer he saw straw bee-hives with bees flying around and buzz- ing, and the old man was kneeling down by his hives doing something to them. Zhilin tried to lift him- self in order to get a better view, but his clog rattled and the old man turned round. As soon as he caught sight of Zhilin he whipped his pistol out of his belt and fired it at him. Zhilin had barely time to dodge behind a bowlder. The old man went to Abdul and complained. Abdul called Zhilin, and laughing asked him why he went to the old man's. " Why," said he, “I did him no harm. I wanted to see how he lived." Abdul reported his answer; but the old man was very angry, and hissed out something, showing his two tusks and waving his arms at Zhilin, who did not understand at all what he said, but knew that the old man ordered Abdul to kill the two Russians and not to keep them in the village. Then the old man went away. Zhilin began to inquire about him : “ Who is that old man?” And Abdul replied: — “He is a great man. He was our first jigit, and he has killed many Russians. He used to be rich. He had three wives and eight sons; they all lived in one 352 The Book of Adventure village. The Russians came, burned his village, and killed seven of his sons. One son that was left joined the Russians. The old man himself went and gave himself up to the Russians. He lived among them three months, and when he had found his son he killed him with his own hand and made his escape. Since that time he has given up fighting, and made the pilgrim- age to Mecca to worship God there. That is why he wears the turban. Whoever goes to Mecca is called - Hadji, and wears a turban. He does not love you Russians. He demands that we kill you, but I can't kill you for I have paid money for you ; besides, I like you, Ivan; there is no reason why I should kill you, and I wouldn't let you go at all if I hadn't given my word.” He grinned, and added in Russian :- • Tvoya, Ivan, khorosh, moya, Abdul, khorosh - Thy, Ivan good, my, Abdul good.” Thus Zhilin lived for a month. During the daytime he walked about the aul or did some work; but when night came, and it was all quiet in the village, he would dig in his shed. It was hard digging on account of the stones; but he would pry them away with his file, and at last he dug a hole under the wall big enough for a person to crawl into. “Now,” said he to himself, “ I'd better get some idea of the locality, so as to know in which direction to go, The Tartars would never tell me anything.” So he chose a time when Abdul had gone away; he went out in the afternoon beyond the village up on the hill, trying to find a place for observation. But before going off the master had ordered his small son to follow 358 The Book of Adventure SW ... Wall "WWE But Zhilin scratched the dog behind the ears and the animal kept still, merely rubbing against his legs and wagging his tail. They crouched behind the shed until all was silent again, and nothing could be heard except the coughing of the sheep in a shed and MUKTIVI the gurgle of water run- ning down over pebbles. It was dark; the stars were ? shining high up in the sky; just over the mountain the young moon with her horns turned upward was setting. In the hollow a mist lay . as white as milk. Zhilin got up saying to his companion: “Well, brother, come along!” They started, but had gone only a few steps when they heard the molla on the roof crying : “Allah Bismillah, alrach- man.” That was a summons to the people to repair to the mosque. They crouched down again, lying flat along the wall. They waited there a long time until the people had passed. Then it grew still again. “Now then with God's aid!” They crossed themselves and started. They passed through the yard, and went down to the river, forded it and proceeded along a glen. The fog was dense but not deep, for overhead they could see the stars. Zhilin calculated by the stars in what direction to proceed. It was cool in the fog and easy walking; but their boots were not very comfortable as they were run down. A Captive in the Caucasus 359 Zhilin took his off, threw them away and went bare- footed. He leapt from bowlder to bowlder, occasionally glancing at the stars. Kostuilin began to lag behind. “Go slower,” he said. “ These cursed boots rub my feet.” “ Take them off, you'll find it easier.” Kostuilin tried walking barefooted, but it was worse than ever. He kept stubbing his toes against the stones and stopping. Zhilin said to him :- “ If you hurt your feet, it won't kill you, but if you get caught, you'll be killed — which is worse.” Kostuilin said nothing but walked on groaning. They proceeded downhill for a long distance. Suddenly they heard dogs barking at the right. Zhilin paused, made a careful examination, crept up the hill, feeling with his hands. “ Ekh!” he exclaimed. “We have blundered. We have come too far to the right. Here is a strange vil- lage — I saw it from the hilltop. We must go back, then to the left up the hill. The forest must be there." But Kostuilin said : “ Wait just a little ; let me get my breath. My feet are all bleeding.” “ Ho, brother! you'll survive it; spring more lightly, this way.” And Zhilin led the way back and up the mountain to the left into the forest. Kostuilin kept stopping and groaning all the time. Zhilin tried to hush him and all the time kept pressing on. They reached the mountain and there was the forest. They pushed into it, tearing what was left of their clothes on the thorns. 360 The Book of Adventure es nan They came into a footpath that traversed the forest, and followed that. “ Hold!” Hoof-beats resounded on the path. They stood still and listened. It sounded like a horse's hoofs, then it stopped. They moved forward ; again there was the sound of the hoofs. They stopped and it stopped. Zhilin crept back and looked, and there in the brighter light of the path stood something that looked like a horse, and yet was not a horse, and on it was some- thing extraordinary that did not resemble a man. They heard it snort. “What a strange thing!” Zhilin whistled gently, and instantly it went gallop- ing off into the forest; they could hear it crashing its way along, like a flying hurricane, trampling down the branches. Kostuilin almost dropped with fright, but Zhilin laughed, saying, - “ It's a stag. Don't you hear how it breaks down the branches with its horns? We were afraid of it, but it is afraid of us.” They went farther. Already the dawn was beginning to appear; it was almost morning; but they could not tell whether they were on the right track or not. It seemed to Zhilin that they were on the very road by which he had been brought there, and that it was about ten versts farther to the Russian fortress; but there was no certainty, and one could not make out any- thing in the night. They reached a clearing. Kostui- lin sat down and said, — “Do as you like, but I can't go any farther; my legs won't move.” ver Α 363 e in the Caucasus visible. Zhilin was quite exhausted. He came to a spring by the path, walled in with stones. He stopped and let Kostuilin down. “There!” said he, “let me rest and get a drink. We'll eat our cakes. It can't be far now.” He had just bent down to drink when he heard the tramp of horses' feet behind him. Once more they rushed into the bushes at the right under a steep place and lay down. They heard Tartar voices: the Tartars stopped at the very place where they had turned aside from the path. They parleyed a while, then started their dogs on the scent. A noise was heard of some- thing dashing through the bushes: then a strange dog came straight up to them : it stopped and barked. Then came the Tartars, also strangers, seized them, bound them, set them on the horses and carried them off. They had proceeded three versts when they met Abdul, their master, and two other Tartars. He said something to the captors; they were transferred to the other horses and carried back to the aul. This time Abdul did not laugh nor did he exchange a word with them. By daybreak they were back in the village and set down in the street. The children ran up to them squealing, and striking them with stones and whips. The Tartars gathered round them in a circle, among them the Hadji from the foot of the hill. They began to parley. Zhilin heard them discussing what should be done with them. Some said they should be carried farther away up among the mountains, but the Hadji insisted that they should be killed. Abdul argued against it, saying: - 101 364 The Book of Adventure “I have paid money for them, and I want to get their ransom.” But the Hadji said :- .“ They will never pay, they'll only do harm, and it is a sin to feed Russians. Kill them and that'll be the end of it.” They dispersed, and Abdul came to Zhilin and said : “If your ransom is not sent to me within a fort- night, I shall have you flogged. And if you try to run away a second time, you I will kill like a dog. Write your letters and write them well.” Paper was brought to them and they wrote their letters. Then the foot-clogs were again put on their feet, and they were taken to a place behind the mosque where there was a pit about fifteen feet deep, and into this they were let down. Their life now became extremely hard. Their clogs were not taken off at all, and they were never brought out of the pit. Unbaked dough was flung down to them as if they had been dogs, and an occasional pitcher of water was let down to them. It was filthy, stifling and wet in the pit. Kostuilin was quite ill; he had swellings and was sore all over, and when he was not asleep he was groaning. Even Zhilin felt depressed, realizing that he was in a desperate strait and he saw no way of escape. He started to dig his way out, but there was nowhere to dispose of the earth ; his master detected him and threatened to kill him. One time he was squatting in his pit thinking of freedom and feeling depressed. Suddenly into his lap fell a flat cake, then another, then some cherries. Was Some A Captive in the Caucasus 365 casus US He looked up; there was Dina! She gazed down at him, laughed and ran away. And Zhilin said to himself : “Why wouldn't Dina help us ?” So he cleared a little space in the pit, got out some clay and began to make some dolls; he made figures of men, horses, and dogs, and thought, “If Dina comes again, I will throw them up to her.” On the next day no Dina appeared, but Zhilin heard the tramping of horses' feet, then people riding by, and the Tartars gathering together at the mosque, disputing, shouting, and giving warnings about the Russians. He also heard the Hadji's voice. He could not very well make out what was said, but he conjectured that the Russians were approaching, and the Tartars were afraid that they would enter their village, and they were in a quandary what to do with the captives. They talked awhile and then went off. Suddenly Zhilin heard a rustling noise at the edge of the pit. He looked up, and there was Dina squatting down with her knees higher than her head; as she bent over her necklace dangled down over the pit. And her eyes gleamed like stars. She pulled out of her sleeve two cheese-cakes and threw them down to him. Zhilin took them and said: “Why have you staid away so long ? I have been making you some toys. Here, take them.” And he threw them up to her one by one. But she shook her head and would not look at them. “I don't want them,” she said. Then she sat for a time silent. At last she said: “Ivan! they are going to kill you!” She made a gesture across her neck. " Who is going to kill me ?” re in the Caucasus 367 But Kostuilin refused to listen to him. “No,” said he, “it is not meant for me to get away. How could I walk when I haven't even strength to move ?” “ Well then, good-by. Don't lay it up against me.” He and Kostuilin kissed each other. Zhilin clasped the pole, bidding Dina to hold on to it, and began to swarm up. Twice he slipped back, his foot-block impeded him. Kostuilin supported him, and at last he managed to reach the top. Dina twitched him by the shirt with all the might of her tiny hands and laughed with glee. Zhilin pulled up the pole and said :— “Carry it to its place, Dina ; otherwise they'll miss it and whip you.” She dragged away the pole, and Zhilin started down the mountain. When he got down the slope he took a sharp stone, and tried to knock off the lock of the clog, but the lock was strong and he could not break it; be- sides, he could not get at it. Just then he heard some one running down the hill with light bounds, and he said to himself, “ That is Dina.” She came running up to him, seized a rock, and said, “Here, let me.” She knelt down and set to work; but her slender little hands, like twigs, had no strength in them. She threw away the rock and burst into tears. Zhilin tried once more to break the lock, and Dina squatted near him, holding him by the shoulder. Zhilin glanced around and saw at the left, back of the mountain, a rosy glow : it was the moon rising. “Well,” he said to himself, “ I must pass the glen and reach the forest before the moon 370 The Book of Adventure “Well,” said he to himself, “I will go thirty steps more, then turn into the woods and sit down.” He made his thirty steps, and perceived that the forest was growing thinner. By the time he reached the edge it was quite light, and yonder, as if on the palm of his hand, lay the steppe and the fortress, and at the left, quite near, at the foot of the hill, fires were burning; some were going out; the smoke was drifting along, and there were men standing near the fires. He looked with all his eyes, and saw muskets gleam- ing — Cossacks, soldiers. Zhilin was overjoyed. He collected his last remain- ing strength, and started down the hill, saying to him- self, “ God forbid any mounted Tartar seeing me in this open field; in that case, it's all up with me.” At that instant he caught sight of three Tartars standing on a hillock at the left not five hundred feet away. They saw him and started in pursuit. Then his heart sank, but he waved his arms and shouted at the top of his voice : - “Help, friends! help!”. The Russians heard him, and mounted Cossacks started to his assistance, striving to intercept the Tar- tars. The Cossacks were farther away than the Tartars ; but Zhilin gathered all his strength, seized the clog in one hand, and ran toward the Cossacks, and scarcely knowing what he was doing, kept crossing himself and shouting: “Help! help! help !” There were fifteen of the Cossacks: that scared the Tartars; they fell back and stopped one by one. And Zhilin ran up to the Cossacks, who surrounded him, ro 2 ran surro AN ADVENTURE WITH SIOUX INDIANS (From A Tour of the World in Eighty Days.) BY JULES VERNE. HAT same evening the train continued its course without obstructions, passed Fort Sanders, crossed the Cheyenne Pass and arrived at Evans Pass. At this point, the railroad reached the highest point on the route, i.e., eight thousand and ninety-one feet above the level of the ocean. The travellers now only had 1 to descend to the Atlantic over those boundless plains, levelled by nature. There was the branch from the “Grand Trunk” to Denver City, the principal town of Colorado. This territory is rich in gold and silver mines, and more than fifty thousand inhabitants have already settled there. At this moment thirteen hundred and eighty-two miles had been made from San Francisco in three days and three nights. Four nights and four days, if noth- ing interfered, ought to be sufficient to reach New York. Phileas Fogg was then still within his time. During the night they passed to the left of Camp 372 An Adventure with Sioux Indians 375 on Proctor, who was looking at his adversary with the most insulting air. But Fix had risen, and going to Colonel Proctor, said to him : “ You forget that you have me to deal with ; me whom you have not only insulted, but struck !”. “Mr. Fix,” said Mr. Fogg, “I beg your pardon, but it concerns me alone. In insisting that I was wrong in playing a spade, the Colonel has insulted me anew, and he shall give me satisfaction.” “When you will, and where you will,” replied the American, “and with whatever weapon you please!”. Mrs. Aouda tried in vain to restrain Mr. Fogg. The detective uselessly endeavored to take up the quarrel on his own account. Passepartout wanted to throw the colonel out of the door, but a sign from his master stopped him. Phileas Fogg went out of the car, and the American followed him on the platform. “Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to his adversary, “I am very much in a hurry to return to Europe, and any delay whatever would be very prejudicial to my interests.” “Well ! what does that concern me?” replied Colonel Proctor. “ Sir," replied Mr. Fogg, very politely, “after our meeting in San Francisco, I formed the plan to come back to America to find you, as soon as I had completed the business which calls me to the Old World.” « Truly !” “ Will you appoint a meeting with me in six months ?” “Why not in six years ?” “I say six months,” replied Mr. Fogg, “ and I will be prompt to meet you.” . UCOI. An Adventure with Sioux Indians 377 At this moment the door of the next car opened, and Colonel Proctor appeared likewise upon the platform, followed by his second, a Yankee of his own stamp. But at the moment that the two adversaries were going to step off the train, the conductor ran up to them and cried : “ You can't get off, gentlemen.” “ Why not?” asked the Colonel. “ We are twenty minutes behind time, and the train does not stop.” “ But I am going to fight a duel with this gentle- man.” “I regret it,” replied the conductor, “but we are going to start again immediately. Hear the bell ringing!” The bell was ringing, and the train moved on. “I am really very sorry, gentlemen,” said the con- ductor. “Under any other circumstances, I could have obliged you. But, after all, since you had not the time to fight here, who hinders you from fighting while the train is in motion ?” “Perhaps that will not suit the gentleman!” said Colonel Proctor, with a jeering air. “ That suits me perfectly,” replied Phileas Fogg. “ Well, we are decidedly in America !” thought Passe- partout, “and the conductor is a gentleman of the first order.” Having said this, he followed his master. The two combatants and their seconds, preceded by the conductor, repaired to the rear of the train, passing through the cars. The last car was only occupied by about ten or a dozen passengers. The conductor asked them if they would be kind enough to vacate for a few 378 The Book of Adventure IP moments for two gentlemen who had an affair of honor to settle. Why not? The passengers were only too happy to be able to accommodate the two gentlemen, and they retired on the platforms. The car, fifty feet long, accommodated itself very con- veniently to the purpose. The two adversaries might march on each other in the aisle, and fire at their ease. There never was a duel easier to arrange. Mr. Fogg and Colonel Proctor, each furnished with two six-bar- relled revolvers, entered the car. Their seconds, re- maining outside, shut them in. At the first whistle of the locomotive, they were to commence firing. Then after a lapse of two minutes what remained of the two gentlemen would be taken out of the car. Truly, there could be nothing simpler. It was even so simple that Fix and Passepartout felt their hearts beating almost as if they would break. They were waiting for the whistle agreed upon, when suddenly savage cries resounded. Reports accompanied them, but they did not come from the car reserved for the duellists. These reports continued, on the contrary, as far as the front and along the whole line of the train. Cries of fright made themselves heard from the inside of the cars. Colonel Proctor and Mr. Fogg, with their revolvers in hand, went out of the car immediately, and rushed forward where the reports and cries resounded more noisily. They understood that the train had been attacked by a band of Sioux. It was not the first attempt of these daring Indians. vere 380 The Book of Adventure seve defended herself heroically, firing through the broken panes when some savage presented himself. About twenty Sioux, mortally wounded, fell upon the track, and the car wheels crushed like worms those that slipped on to the rails from the top of the platforms. Several passengers, severely wounded by bullets or clubs, lay upon the seats. But an end must be put to this. This combat had lasted already for ten minutes, and could only end to the advantage of the Sioux, if the train was not stopped. In fact, Fort Kearney station was not two miles distant. There was a military post, but that passed, between Fort Kearney and the next station the Sioux would be masters of the train. The conductor was fighting at Mr. Fogg's side when a ball struck him and he fell. As he fell, he cried : “ We are lost if the train is not stopped inside of five minutes ! ” “It shall be stopped !” said Phileas Fogg, who was about to rush out of the car. “Remain, Monsieur,” Passepartout cried to him. “That is my business.” Phileas Fogg had not the time to stop the courageous young man, who, opening a door without being seen by the Indians, succeeded in slipping under the car. Whilst the struggle continued, and whilst the balls were cross- ing each other above his head, recovering his agility, 382 The Book of Adventure ball in the groin. He was carried to the station with the other passengers, whose condition demanded im- mediate care. Mrs. Aouda was safe. Phileas Fogg, who had not spared himself, had not a scratch. Fix was wounded in the arm — but it was an unimportant wound.' But Passepartout was missing, and tears flowed from the young woman's eyes. Meanwhile, all the passengers had left the train. The wheels of the cars were stained with blood. To the hubs and spokes hung ragged pieces of flesh. As far as the eye could reach, long red trails were seen on the white plain. The last Indians were then dis- appearing in the south, along the banks of Republican river. Mr. Fogg, with folded arms, stood motionless. He had a serious decision to make. Mrs. Aouda, near him, looked at him without uttering a word. He understood her look. If his servant was a prisoner, ought he not to risk everything to rescue him from the Indians ? “I will find him dead or alive,” he said simply to Mrs. Aouda. “Ah! Mr. Fogg — Mr. Fogg!” cried the young woman, seizing her companion's hands and covering them with tears. “ Alive!” added Mr. Fogg, “if we do not lose a minute!” With this resolution Phileas Fogg sacrificed himself entirely. He had just pronounced his ruin. A single day's delay would make him miss the steamer from New York. His bet would be irrevocably lost. But An Adventure with Sioux Y ns Indians 383 in the face of the thought, “ It is my duty!” he did not hesitate. The captain commanding Fort Kearney was there. His soldiers — about a hundred men — had put them- selves on the defensive in the event of the Sioux mak- ing a direct attack upon the station. “Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to the captain, “ three passen- gers have disappeared.” “Killed ?” asked the captain. “Killed or prisoners,” replied Mr. Fogg. “That is an uncertainty which we must bring to an end. It is your intention to pursue the Sioux ?” “It is a grave matter, sir,” said the captain. “These Indians may fly beyond the Arkansas ! I could not abandon the fort entrusted to me.” “Sir,” replied Phileas Fogg, “ it is a question of the life of three men.” “ Doubtless — but can I risk the life of fifty to save three ?” “I do not know whether you can, but you ought.” “Sir," replied the captain, “no one here has the right to tell me what my duty is.” “Let it be so !” said Phileas Fogg, coldly, “ I will go alone !” “ You, sir ! ” cried Fix, who approached, “ go alone in pursuit of the Indians !” “Do you wish me then to allow to perish the unfor- tunate man to whom every one of us that is living owes his life? I shall go.” “Well, no, you shall not go alone!” cried the captain, moved in spite of himself. “No! You are a brave heart! Thirty volunteers !” he added, turning to his soldiers. 384 The Book of Adventure The whole company advanced in a body. The cap- tain had to select from these brave fellows. Thirty soldiers were picked out, and an old sergeant put at their head. 6 Thanks, captain !” said Mr. Fogg. “ You will permit me to accompany you?” Fix asked the gentleman. “ You will do as you please,” replied Phileas Fogg. “ But if you wish to do me a service, you will remain by Mrs. Aouda. In case anything should happen to me-" A sudden paleness overcast the detective's face. To separate himself from the man whom he had followed step by step and with so much persistence! To let him venture so much in the desert. Fix looked closely at the gentleman, and whatever he may have thought, in spite of his prejudices, in spite of his inward strug- gle, he dropped his eyes before that quiet, frank look. “ I will remain,” he said. A few moments after, Mr. Fogg pressed the young woman's hand; then, having placed in her care his precious travelling-bag, he set out with the sergeant and his little band. But before starting, he said to the soldiers : “My friends, there are five thousand dollars for you if you save the prisoners !” It was then a few minutes past noon. Mrs. Aouda retired into a sitting-room of the sta- tion, and there, alone, she waited, thinking of Phileas Fogg, his simple and grand generosity, his quiet cour- age. Mr. Fogg had sacrificed his fortune, and now he was staking his life — and all this without hesitation re An Adventure with Sioux Indians 387 the fire started up again, the head of steam increased again, and about two o'clock in the afternoon the en- gine returned, running backwards to Kearney station. This was the whistling they heard in the mist. It was a great satisfaction for the travellers, when they saw the locomotive put at the head of the train. They were going to be able to continue their journey so unfortunately interrupted. On the arrival of the engine, Mrs. Aouda came out of the station, and addressing the conductor, she asked: “You are going to start ?” “ This very instant, madam.” “ But the prisoners-our unfortunate companions —" “I cannot interrupt the trip,” replied the conductor. “ We are already three hours behind time.” 66 And when will the next train coming from San Francisco pass ?” “ Tomorrow evening, madam.” “ To-morrow evening! But it will be too late. We must wait -” “Impossible," replied the conductor. “If you are going, get aboard the car.” “I will not go,” replied the young woman. Fix heard this conversation. A few moments before, when every means of locomotion failed him, he had de- cided to quit Kearney, and now that the train was there, ready to continue its course, and he only had to seat himself again in the car, an irresistible force fixed him to the ground. The platform of the station burned his feet, and he could not tear himself away from it. The conflict within himself recommenced. His anger at his recomme NOTES BAKER, SIR S. W. African traveller, born in London, England, 1821 ; died, 1893. Set out in 1862 to explore the sources of the Nile, discovered the inland sea Albert Nyanza. He explored also the island of Cyprus in 1845 and succeeding years. Has written “ The Rifle and the Hound in Ceylon," “ Eight Years Wanderings in Ceylon," “ The Albert Nyanza,” “The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia," " Ismaïlia," “Cyprus as I saw It," “ Cast up by the Sea,” etc. BLACK, WILLIAM, an English novelist, born in Glasgow, Scotland, 1841 ; died, 1898. Studied, and subsequently became journalist and war correspondent. Wrote “ In Silk Attire," " A Daughter of Heth," " A Princess of Thule," " Madcap Violet,” “Macleod of Dare,” “ White Wings," " Shandon Bells," " Judith Shakespeare." His stories are noted for their descriptions of the scenery of the Hebrides and North Britain, and for their yachting adventures. BLACKMORE, R. D., English novelist, born in Longworth, England, 1825 ; died, 1890. He was always fond of gardening, and his peculiar knowledge of plant life is shown in all his books. He wrote, besides “ Lorna Doone,” “ The Maid of Sker," " Alice Lorraine," " Cripps the Carrier," " Christowell," and some volumes of verse. CERVANTES, DON MIGUEL DE, born in Spain, in 1547; died, 1616. “Don Quixote," his most famous book, was published in 1605, and at once became popular, provoking much criticism and begetting many imitators. He also wrote some novels and some poems, of which the best known are “Galatea" and his “Viage del Parnaso." COOPER, J. F., born in New Jersey, 1789; died, 1851. He followed the sea for five years, after three years at Yale. His first novel, “ Precaution," was published when he was thirty. His chief books are “ The Spy," " The Pilot," "The Last of the Mohicans," " The Prairie,” “Red Rover," "The Bravo," " The Pathfinder." "The Deerslayer," " The Two Admirals," "Wing and Wing," and " Satanstoe," all of them either sea-tales or tales of frontier life. DRAKE, S. A., American journalist and author, born in Boston, 1833, served with distinction in the Civil War. Has written "Old Landmarks of Boston,” “Old Land- marks of Middlesex," "Nooks and Corners of the New England Coast," " Around the Hub," “New England Legends,” “The Heart of the White Mountains," " The Making of New England,” etc., etc. HAGGARD, H. R., born in England, 1856. Was in Natal and the Transvaal, 1875–79. He wrote “ Dawn," " The Witch's Head, “She," “ King Solomon's Mines," " Jess," “Allan Quartermain," “ Cleopatra,” “Mr. Meeson's Will,” “ Allan's Wife," etc. Descriptions of African scenery and natives of Africa characterize most of them. IRVING, WASHINGTON, born in New York, 1783; died, 1859. “ The father of Ameri- can Literature.” He wrote “Knickerbocker History of New York.” “The Sketch Book," from which our extract is taken, contains many delightful stories ; so also do “ Bracebridge Hall” and “ Tales of a Traveller." He wrote, likewise, many more serious works, such as “ The Life of Columbus," “ The Conquest of Granada," "The Alhambra," etc., and Lives of George Wasbington and Oliver Goldsmith. 391 392 Notes KENNEDY, JOHN P., born in Maryland, 1795; Secretary of the Navy in 1852; died, 1870. After the war he spent some time in England. He wrote “ Swallow Barn," “ Horseshoe Robinson," "Rob of the Bowl,” and “ At Home and Abroad," a volume of essays. KINGSLEY, CHARLES, an English clergyman and author, born in Devonshire, 1819; died, 1875. From 1844, until his death, he was rector of Eversley, in Hampshire. In 1873 he was appointed Canon of Westminster and Chaplain to Queen Victoria. He wrote “Alton Locke” and “Yeast," “ Two Years Ago," “ Hereward the Wake," “Hypatia,” and “ Westward Ho!” And under the pen-name of “ Parson Lot," wrote much on Christian Socialism. A charming book of travel, “At Last," and “The Heroes," “ Glaucus," " The Water Babies," " Prose Idylls," “ Health and Education," are some of his other books. His “Life," by his widow, is a most interesting biography. MARRYAT, CAPT. FREDERICK, born in England, 1792 ; died, 1848. He followed the sea from 1806 to 1830, and many of the incidents of his seafaring life are incorporated in his novels. His first novel, “ Frank Mildmay," appeared in 1829. Then followed “ The King's Own,” “Newton Forster," “ Peter Simple," " Jacob Faithful,” “Japhet in Search of a Father," "Mr. Midshipman Easy,” “Snarleyyow,” and “The Pasha of Many Tales." He visited America in 1837, and stayed two years, and published his “ Diary in America" in 1839. He afterwards wrote “ Poor Jack," "Masterman Ready," “ Percival Keene," “Settlers in Canada," “ The Mission,” “ The Privateersman," “The Children of the New Forest,” and “Rattlin the Reefer." As a writer of sea- stories Captain Marryat has probably no superior, MELVILLE, HERMANN, born, New York City, 1819; died, 1891. A sailor who de- serted his ship, owing to the captain's treatment of him, at the Marquesas Island, where he was kept a prisoner by the natives for four months. “ Typee" is based on his experiences while in captivity. “Omoo” is a continuation of his adventures in Oceanica. He also wrote some poems, and “Moby Dick," " Redburn,” and “White Jacket,” are among his other better known tales. PRESCOTT, W. H., historian, born Salem, Mass., 1796 ; died, 1859. In spite of his partial blindness, caused by an accident while at Harvard College, he travelled much in England, France, and Italy, and devoted nearly all his life to the study of Spanish history. He wrote “History of Ferdinand and Isabella,” “ History of the Conquest of Mexico," " The Conquest of Peru," "History of Philip II.," .etc. SAGAS, THE. The Sagas are the historical and fabulous tales of Iceland. They give faithful pictures of the life and manners of the time, chiefly in biographical forin. They were first written down between 1067–1148. During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the writers of Iceland were wonderfully active; and there are large collec- tions of these ancient MSS., which, though not very accurate historically and chrono- logically, present marvellously vivid pictures of the past in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Scott, SIR WALTER, famous novelist and poet, born in Scotland, 1771 ; died, 1832. Among his novels are “ Waverley," “ Ivanhoe,” “Rob Roy," "The Heart of Mid- lothian,” “The Monastery,” * The Bride of Lammermoor," “ Woodstock," “Red. Gauntlet,” and “Guy Mannering." His best-known poems are “ The Lady of the Lake," "Marmion,” and “ The Lay of the Last Minstrel.” STEVENSON, R. L., born in Edinburgh, 1850 ; died, 1894; was trained as a lawyer, but soon turned his attention to literature. From his childhood he had written constantly. Among essays and stories, he wrote “ An Inland Voyage," " Travels with a Donkey,” “ Virginibus Puerisque,” “New Arabian Nights," “ Treasure Island,” "Kidnapped," "The Master of Ballantrae," “ Prince Otto," " The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” etc., and "A Child's Garden of Verse." YOUNG FOLKS LIBRARY lilul 11