Ella Barnwell | Page 4

hunter now perceived, with painful regret, that only an
interposition of Providence could save him, for his life was hanging on
a thread that might snap at any moment. It was an awful moment of
suspense, as there, on his knees, far, far away from the land of his birth,
in a strange country, he, in the prime of life, without a friend near,
wounded and weak, was waiting to die, like a wild beast, by the hands
of savages, with his scalp to be borne hence as a trophy, his flesh to be
devoured by wolves, and his bones left to bleach in the open air. It was
an awful moment of suspense! and a thousand thoughts came rushing
through his mind; and he felt he would have given worlds, were they
his, for the existence of even half an hour, with a friend by, to receive
his dying requests. To add to his despair, he felt himself fast growing
weaker and weaker; and with an unsteady vision, as his last hope, he
turned his eye in the direction of the cottage, to note if any assistance

were at hand; but he saw none; and nature failing to support him longer
in his position, he sunk back upon the ground, believing the last sands
of his existence were run.
Meantime, the Indians had loaded their rifles; and one of them,
stepping a pace in front of his companion, was already in the act of
aiming, when, perceiving the young man falter and sink back, he
lowered the muzzle of his gun, and, grasping his tomahawk, darted
forward to despatch him without further loss of ammunition. Already
had he reached within five or six paces of his victim, who, now unable
to exert himself in his own defence, could only look upon his savage
enemy and the weapon uplifted for his destruction, when, crack went
another rifle, in an opposite direction whence the Indians approached,
and, bounding into the air, with a terrific yell, the foremost fell dead by
the young man's side. On seeing his companion fall, the other Indian,
who was only a few paces behind, stopped suddenly, and, with a yell of
fear and disappointment, turned and fled.
Those only who have been placed in peril sufficient to extinguish the
last gleam of hope, and have suddenly been relieved by a mysterious
interposition of Providence, can fully realize the feelings with which
the wounded hunter saw himself rescued from an ignominious death.
True, he was weak and faint from a wound which was, perhaps, mortal;
still it was a great consolation to feel that he should die among those
who would bury him, and perhaps bear a message to friends in a far-off
land. With such thoughts uppermost in his mind, the young man, by
great exertion, raised himself upon his elbow, and turned his head in
the direction whence his deliverer might be expected; but, to his
surprise and disappointment, no one appeared; and after vainly
attempting to regain his feet, he sunk back, completely exhausted. The
wound in his side had now grown very painful, and was bleeding freely;
while he became conscious, that unless the hemorrhage could be
stanched immediately, the only good service a friend could render him,
would be to inter his remains. In this helpless state, something like a
minute elapsed, when he felt a strange sensation about his heart--his
head grew dizzy--his thoughts seemed confused--the sky appeared
suddenly to grow dark, and he believed the icy grasp of death was

already settling upon him. At this moment a form--but whether of
friend or foe he could not tell--flitted before his uncertain vision; and
then all became darkness and nonentity. He had swooned.
When the young stranger recovered his senses, after a lapse of some ten
minutes, his glance rested on the form of a white hunter, of noble
aspect, who was bending over him with a compassionate look; and who,
meantime, had opened his dress to the wound and stanched the blood,
by covering it with a few pieces of coarse linen, which he had torn into
shreds for the purpose, and secured there by means of his belt.
As this latter personage is destined to figure somewhat in the following
pages, we shall take this opportunity of describing him as he appeared
to our wounded friend.
In height and proportion--but not in age--these two individuals were
somewhat alike--the new comer being full five feet, ten inches, with a
robust, athletic frame, and all the concomitants of a powerful man. At
the moment when first beheld by the young man, after regaining his
senses, he was kneeling by his side, his cap of the wild-cat skin was
lying on the ground, and the last mellow rays of the setting sun were
streaming