Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Next Page
OCR
S82 Exchange Street.
EDWARD P. WESTON, | : “
GHAMLES P. ILSLBY, ¢ EDITCRS. .
FUBLISHED BY 8. ‘T. PICKARD & CO,
PORTLAND, MAINE, SATURDAY, MARCI 25, 1854.
$1.50 A WEAR, IN ADVANCE,
, Discount to Clubs. |
VOL. 4.---NO. 26,
ova Paring.
el
Written for the Portland Eclectic.
PHANTOMS.
BY “RALPH we
‘AIL houees wherein rats and mice abide
‘Are haunted houses. ‘Through the open doors
‘Tho cunning thieves upon their errands glide,
Making a hasty scratching on the floors.
HARPER,
We meet them in the chamber, on the stair, |
‘Along the passages they come and go; -
‘Their twinkling eyes are peering everywhere °°
‘As hurriedly they scamper to and fro. ~
" “iyhe honse has far more inmates than the hosts
Invited; cellar, pantry, kitchen, hall, ’
Are thronged with nibblers, which the scent of roasts
Mas tempted from their strong-bolds in the wall.
. The stranger at my fireside may not see *
‘The forms I see—and if strange sounds he hear,
Ascribes them to the wind—but unto me
‘Phe real cause is visible and clear.
The garret’s dusty, dim circumference
° Ig where they most do cungregate—for there
Rubbish in piles, and cobwebs dark and dense -
Shut out intruders and the daylight’s glare. ;
Their little lives are kept in equipoise
By opposite incentives and desires—
. _The struggle of the daring that destroys,
And the instinctive cowardice that fears,
“The perturba ations, the perpetual jar,
“That greet me as the evening hours go by,
Come from the attic, where their gambols aro
, Played without fear, and undisturbedly.” +
And as the moon, from some dark, cavernous cloud,
Flings down to us @ floating bridge of ligh
‘Across whose tremb:ing beams our fancies crowd,
Into the vague uncertainty and night—
So, from the attie story, there deecends
‘ht of stairs, connecting it with this,
And racing up and down, my long-tailed friends
_Affright the night with antics numberless.
: Sn Original Canditionary C Cal
‘Written fur the Portland Eclectic.
THE SETTLERS,
A TALE OF THE FOREST.
“+. By CHARLES P. IISLEY.
«CHAPTER IX, ‘
‘*Tnever knew the varmints to be so unguarded,”
' gaid the Seout ina ‘subdued tone, as he and Ienry
‘left the bank of the river.‘ They thought the
* youngster was hurt worse than he proves to be, and
they reckoned they had him safe enough, I warrant
you. How it will rack them when they find that
their intended victim has escaped their infarnal tor-
tures!” and the old fellow chuckled as if he enjoyed
the disappointment that awaited the Indians.
‘But what do you propose to do for Ellen?” asked
lenry.
“Wal, I’ve been ‘turning the matter over in my
‘mind. I sce the moon is ’bout rising, and it will be
risky business. I’m not sure but “that it will be
best to take another night for it.””
‘* For heaven’s sake, do not think of that! 1? hasti-
ly replied Worthly, who shuddered at the idea that
they might wreak their vengeance on her when they
_», had ascertained the escape of George.
“Whist, whist, youngster! not too. oud!” Your
. feelings are nat’ral, young man,” rejoined the Scout,
.. who conjectured the fears of his companion, ** but I
« know the nater of the red-skins better than you,do.
They will not touch o hair of her head. . Iow-
somever, I will see what can be done. ‘You wait
here, and I will go and look round a little. Come,
Brave, let us look for the gall”? and after a few
y directions to Henry, | he glided off in the direction of
ye the encampment, ”
+
we
blaze.
Ile had not been abeent but a short time when he
returned, and in somewhat hurried tones said—
“The dogs areastir, and the pack will open on ug]
directly. Come this way, a little more into the
woods; we'll watch the varmints,’’ and he led off at
& rapid pace into the forest.
They had not proceeded but a few steps when an
infuriated yell burst upon the night air, as if a herd
of demons had broken loose. A low laugh burst
from the Scout, as yell after yell rang through the
forest.»
“That's just like them critturs,”’ said he; ‘when
they’re riled. the only way they can spit out their
spite is to set up an infarnal howling, just like a
pack of painters or wolves!"
eJust then momentary gleams flashed through the
woods, as of torches borne hurriedly to and fro.
Ha, ha! they'll find. him, I consate! It was a
lucky sarcumstence we got him off as we did. If
the boys ain’t been interrupted, he’s safe out of
their clutches by this time.’
‘Bat will not this discovery operate against us?”
asked [enry, who saw in it a destruction of all hope
of rescuing Ellen, for the present at least.
‘I'm not sartain about that,’ replied the old
man. ‘By what I obsarved, all the party were not
in camp—off working mischief somewhere else, I
s‘pose, the infarnal hounds! You'll obsarve by the
| clustering of torches, they have diskivered something
—probably the trail to the river.”
« Well,’’ said Ilenry, as the old man paased and
gazed in the direction of the lights.
‘Wal, it is reasonable to calculate, ,don’t you see,
that some on “em will start in pursuit, and much
good may it do em! ; That in course will _Teave 80
many the less, to contend with.”
| Bug will not those who remuin keep a a ‘strieter
watch?” asked Henry. .
** Undoubtedly, youngster, but we must throw
wool over their eyes. We must contrive some plan
to draw off their attention, and then seize upon the
moment to get the gal off. Let me consider a mo-
ment,”’ and the old man mused awhile buried in
thought.
“ Yes, that. may do,” he muttered to himself—
‘twill be purty risky business, though ;’”? then ad-
dressing his companion, he continued—
«My mind is this. There’s a cluster of lodges
near the river which are empty, save one, which con-
tains tleir stores and skins. - Now if we could set
fire to one of these, the whole would soon be ina
Nat'rally they would all rush to save their
property—then would be your chance to rescue the
gal. But, boy, it’s a bold trick, and there’s some
risk in it. If we did not succeed, the gal’s life
might be jeopardized. The malignant devils might
brain her in their. rage. Dare you attempt it,
youngster?”
Henry was silent ‘for some moments, The proba-
bly fatal consequences attending a failure pressed
heavily upon his mind, and he knew not how to
decide. ’
“Dare you attempt itt? again asked the Scout.
Fearful of assuming a responsibility, pregnant
with the life or death of one so fear to him, the
young man replied—
*«T cannot decide—I know nc not w bat to any, Scout.
Tleave the whole matter to you. You know what
is best—what risks we shall run, and what are our
chances of success.””
«* Wal, then,” rejoined the Scout, “if you Jeare |”
it to me, I decide to follow the plan I mentioned. I
acknowledge there is danger, but there can't’ be
many of the yarmints left, and worst come to worst,
we can fight it out with the reptyles. . Should it
come to that, they will not showa fuir stand up
fight, bat skulk. Then you see, Braye and I can
keep them at bay, while you and the gal can
escape.””
“But there i is your own risk, Seovt,” said Henry,
*¢That, young man, I don’t count much on. I've
lived through worse skrimmages than this is likely
to be. “I consate thut the ball that reaches my life
is not moulded yet. “Bat if Ido fall, what matters
& year or two off a lonely old man’s Hite, who has
got not a kin in the world to mourn his death!
But I can’t go before the good God calls me. « There
are so many grains of sand put in each man’s glass,
youngster, and that sand must run out in its pat‘ral
course—you can’t hurry the grains—you can't check
them. Man has hisallotted time, and all the bloody
red-skins on ’arth can’t cheat him out of a single
second. If Iam to fall, Iam to fall.. That's the
doctrine we preach down to the Subba’-Day Pond
meetings. So don't be consarned about me, young-
ste ’
While the old man was thus unfulding his ereed,
they had been making a circuit of the woods, so a8
to obtain a position in the rear of the encampment.
‘Their progress had been slow, and by the time they
arrived there the hubbub in camp had subsided, and
quiet once more reigned in the place.
Now,’ said the Scout, I will go avd see if the
snakes have crawled into their holes. , It’s my idee
that the young woman's lodge is the furthest one
back, near the edge of the forest. If so be it is, it
will be all the better. Brave will point it out to
me—come pup!’ and the old man and his dog
moved off in the direction of the encampment.
The young man thus left alone in the forest, felt
ill at ease. It was natural, now that the. crisis of
his adventure was approaching, that he should be
somewhat excited. The emotions that agitated him
were various and opposite in their characters. Hope
struggled with fear. The thought of speedily re-
leasing Ellen from her bondage thrilled him with
joy. - Then came apprehensions of the difficulties
that surrounded him—of the probably fatal conse-
quences that would follow a failure of their plans—
shadowing his joy and filling his. heart with des-
pondency: Dark forebodings stole over his miod,
and his excited imagination pictured the ‘captive a
victim to his rashness, and he half regretted that he
had not postponed the attempt until a more favora-
ble opportunity. - But would a more favorable one
be presented? Would not the attempted rescue be
at all times fraught with danger? Revolving the
subject in his mind, [Henry concluded that it was no
time to falter now, and he nerved bimself for the
task before him.
+ In the course of a an n hour he was rejoined by
the Scout.
“The reptyles have crept into their dens,” said
he, ** but ’tain’t likely they have gone to sleep. . I've
ascertained ths lodge where your sweetheart is, but
Tdida’t venture to go near. it. Come this way—
tread softly, for they have sharp ears!—and I will
point it out to you. The moon is getting up, which
will be of some sarvice, although for such @ jobas
this darkness would be best.
The moon, however, had not risen above the tree
tops, and it affurded just light enough to allow them
*to distinguish the situation of the lodges when they
had arrived at the edge of the forest. . The Scout
then pointed out the wigwam which Ellen occupied,
and gave directions to Henry how to proceed.
“You will keep your station here, and Brave will
yemain with you—do you hear, pup!—while I go
and fire the lodges. When the flames burst out and
the varmints rush towards them, then is yourchance.
Keep in the rear of the lodge, in the shade, and cut
your way through and release the gal. Mind and
have your thoughts about you, youngster! Don't
be rash—don’t be excited; one can't be too cool on
“such occasions 9s this. A fulse move might ruin
us all.””
** But where will 5 you join me?” asked Henry i in
the same cautious tone employed by the Scout.
“That depends on sarcumstances. I may have
to show mpself to draw off pursuit. At any rate
you will plunge into, the woods, keeping the moon
over your right shoulder—over your right shoulder;
remember that, boy! “If T lose your trail, Brave
will bring us together without doubt. Be wary
and collected, sand when the rush is made, make quick
dimly discerned, rose the lodge in.which Ellen was
confined. Ie had left his rifle leaning aguinst a
tree, but he held in Lis hand a Jarge hunting knife
ready fur instant use. The moment was One of
thrilling interest, and as he stood there, his gaze
fixed on the cluster of wigwams, scarcely percepti-
ble, by the river's side, waiting for the signul,every —
nerve seemed strung to its utmost tension.. There
was no quivering of the muscles—no trembling of
the limbs. He was calm—almost preternaturally
calm.
Beside him stood the faithful Brave. At times”
the sagacious animal would seem to be gazing stead-_
fastly on the lodge, then raising his head toward
Tenry, he would wag his tail, as if to assure him
that he was aware of all that was going on. At
one time he gave a just audible growl, and with
bristling hair, he crouched in a springing attitude.
At that moment Ilenry perceived the dusky furm of
a savage lurking in the neighborhood of Ellen's
lodge.. Ile saw him but for an instant, ere he dis
appeared behind one of the tents. The dog crept
slowly forward a few steps, and after snuffing the
air awhile, returned to the young man’s side, as if
satisfied that no danger was to be apprehended. It
was very evident that the savage had been prying -
around to see that all was quiet, and finding nothing
to excite suspicion, had retired.
Some considerable time elapsed, and Henry waited
ansiously, wondering at.the delay of the Scout.
Like all impatient waiters, when some important
crisis is impending, the moments dragged slowly by..
At last he thought be detected a small point of light
—a mere spark, He strained bis eyes in the direc-
tion of the lodges. It disappeared—then it shone
out more distinctly, and presently he observed tiny
tongues of flame flickering out of the side of one of
the central lodges. In a few moments a slight ex-
plosion was heard, and the Lirchen side of the lodge
was rent apart, while from the curling bark a vast
volyme of flame spread ont in every directién; at
the same instant a rush of feet was heard, anda
terrible yell rose on the air, .
With a beating heart Worthly dashed forward at
the sound.’ -It was but the work of a moment to edt
a passage through the frail material of which the
lodge was composed. As he forced his way through
the opening, a shriek of terror buret from the cap-
tive.
“Ellen, dear Ellen, be not alarmed! I have come
to save you! Quick—follow me!"”
“Henry, Henry, can it be you!” exclaimed the"
trembling girl. ‘I cannot move—I am bound!”
Springing to her side, Worthly cut the thongs
that confined her feet and arms, and raising ber to
her feet, he bore her through the entrance he had
made. Tbe whole air was now illuminated with the
blazing lodges, and the infuriated cries of the say-
ages rang throughout the encampment. Searcely
gluncing at the conflagration, Henry darted towards
the forest. At this moment an athletie young say-
age sprang from bebind a neighboring wigwam,
brandishing the deadly tomahawk, directly in the
path of the fugitives. [enry did not perceive that
be was pursued, and in another moment the fatal
weapon would have been buried in his head. But
there was a deliverer at hand,
" The first notice the young man had of the threat-
ened danger, was a deep growl from: Brave, and
hastily turning his head, he saw the powerful ani-
mal leap panther-like from the ground, and seize
the Indian by the throat,—a second glance revealed
to him the dog and savage struggling furiously on
the earth. His first impulse was to go to the as-
sistance of his faithful ally, but thought of the
momentousgnterest he had at stake restrained him,
and without checking his speed he kept on, and i in
a few moments reached the forest and was in pos-
session of his riflo. Without pausing a moment, he
work of it!”
Saying thos, the old man ‘crept ‘silently off to the
left in the skirts of the woods.
Henry stood by a little thicket a little in advance
% .
Pn
of the heavy timber, and but a few rods before him,
hurried his companion into the depths of the woods.
stopping not until the light from the burning cam: ;
was lost to sight. He then selected a dense thicket,
in the centre of which he found a elight opening,
into which he made his way with his companion,
and made a brief halt to enable the allrighted girl
