Elkswatawa : $b or, The prophet of the west. A tale of the frontierFrench, James Strange
General
Elkswatawa : $b or, The prophet of the west. A tale of the frontier
French, James Strange
Tippecanoe, Battle of, Ind., 1811 -- Fiction
Rolfe and Earthquake, for so I shall designate the latter, having
succeeded in passing the river, hurried on their clothes, and were
soon ready for a march. Landing at the base of the limestone cliffs,
upon which the Indians were encamped, they lost sight of them, and
being unable to ascend the bank at that point, proceeded down the
river until a more favourable ascent presented itself. Then seeking
the woods, they cautiously crept along until they reached a large tree
situated on the edge of a ravine, which commanded a tolerable view of
the ledge of rocks, and there they resolved to await the approach of
the Indians. They were led to do this chiefly because the tree, being
hollow, offered them a hiding place in case it should become
necessary.
Scarcely had they taken their position, when a light was seen moving
about on the rocks, and soon after, an Indian, bearing aloft a torch,
descended, apparently lighting the way to his companions.—Then came
another, forcing along, and at the same time assisting, his beautiful
and unfortunate captive, and then came the remainder of the gang, each
following on in Indian file. Arriving at the base of the rocks, and
gathering together, they consulted for a moment as to their route,
then starting off, led the way directly towards the hunters.
When this plan was adopted, Rolfe and Earthquake, who had expected
them to take a different direction, found themselves so near to the
party, that retreat was impossible, and adopting the only alternative
which presented itself, they concealed themselves in the cavity of the
tree, and there awaited the issue.
As the light shot upwards with a vivid glare, “by heaven, Earth,” said
Rolfe, “how the past springs to life at seeing that face; the girl of
whom you have heard me so often speak, was very much like her.”
“Hush,” said Earth, “or you will have a tomahawk about you, afore you
know it; hush, don't breathe, they are coming.”
The torch which they bore shed abroad a flickering light, showing at
one moment every object with distinctness, the next, veiling them in
darkness; and their heavy steps as they dragged their feet through the
leaves, were heard approaching. The sobs of the captive, with the
harsh language of the captors, as they urged her along, caused a
shudder to thrill through the frames of the hunters, and Rolfe wrung
his hands in agony, saying, “O! Earth! let us try them.”
“Hush,” said Earth, “we are gone if they come to the left of this
tree; they come; we are gone! we are gone!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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