The Boy Captives | Page 6

not daring to make a fire, which might attract the watchful eyes of
savages. On the sixth day they struck upon an old Indian path, and,
following it until night, came suddenly upon a camp of the enemy.
Deep in the heart of the forest, under the shelter of a ridge of land
heavily timbered, a great fire of logs and brushwood was burning; and
around it the Indians sat, eating their moose-meat and smoking their
pipes.
The poor fugitives, starving, weary, and chilled by the cold spring
blasts, gazed down upon the ample fire, and the savory meats which the
squaws were cooking by it, but felt no temptation to purchase warmth
and food by surrendering themselves to captivity. Death in the forest
seemed preferable. They turned and fled back upon their track,
expecting every moment to hear the yells of pursuers. The morning
found them seated on the bank of a small stream, their feet torn and
bleeding, and their bodies emaciated. The elder, as a last effort, made
search for roots, and fortunately discovered a few ground-nuts
(*glycine apios*), which served to refresh in some degree himself and
his still weaker companion. As they stood together by the stream,
hesitating and almost despairing, it occurred to Isaac that the rivulet
might lead to a larger stream of water, and that to the sea and the white
settlements near it; and he resolved to follow it. They again began their
painful march; the day passed, and the night once more overtook them.
When the eighth morning dawned, the younger of the boys found
himself unable to rise from his bed of leaves. Isaac endeavored to
encourage him, dug roots, and procured water for him; but the poor lad
was utterly exhausted. He had no longer heart or hope. The elder boy
laid him on leaves and dry grass at the foot of a tree, and with a heavy
heart bade him farewell. Alone he slowly and painfully proceeded
down the stream, now greatly increased in size by tributary rivulets. On
the top of a hill he climbed with difficulty into a tree, and saw in the

distance what seemed to be a clearing and a newly-raised frame
building. Hopeful and rejoicing, he turned back to his young
companion, told him what he had seen, and, after chafing his limbs
awhile, got him upon his feet. Sometimes supporting him, and at others
carrying him on his back, the heroic boy staggered towards the clearing.
On reaching it he found it deserted, and was obliged to continue his
journey. Towards night signs of civilization began to appear,--the
heavy, continuous roar of water was heard; and, presently emerging
from the forest, he saw a great river dashing in white foam down
precipitous rocks, and on its bank the gray walls of a huge stone
building, with flankers, palisades, and moat, over which the British flag
was flying. This was the famous Saco Fort, built by Governor Phips,(1)
two years before, just below the falls of the Saco River. The soldiers of
the garrison gave the poor fellows a kindly welcome. Joseph, who was
scarcely alive, lay for a long time sick in the fort; but Isaac soon
regained his strength, and set out for his home in Haverhill, which he
had the good fortune to arrive at in safety.
(1) An interesting account of Sir William Phips will be found in
Parkman's *Frontenac and New France under Louis XIV.* Hawthorne
also tells his romantic story in *Fanshawe and Other Pieces.*
Amidst the stirring excitements of the present day, when every thrill of
the electric wire conveys a new subject for thought or action to a
generation as eager as the ancient Athenians for some new thing,
simple legends of the past like that which we have transcribed have
undoubtedly lost in a great degree their interest. The lore of the fireside
is becoming obsolete, and with the octogenarian few who still linger
among us will perish the unwritten history of border life in New
England.

End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Boy Captives, by Whittier

Etext of The Boy Captives

by John Greenleaf Whittier

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