Ella Barnwell: A historical romance of border lifeBennett, Emerson
General
Ella Barnwell: A historical romance of border life
Bennett, Emerson
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Girty, Simon, 1741-1818 -- Fiction; Kentucky -- Fiction
Orders now being rapidly given by Girty and Wild-cat, were quickly and
silently executed by their swarthy subordinates; and in a few minutes,
the latter chief was on his way, with four warriors, the two male
prisoners, and the little girl--Oshasqua, to whom the latter had been
consigned by Girty, as the reader will remember, and who still continued
to accompany Wild-cat, refusing to leave her behind.
When informed by Girty, in an authoritative tone, that he must join the
detachment of Wild-cat, Algernon turned toward Ella, and in a trembling
voice said:
"Farewell, dear Ella! If God wills that we never meet again on earth,
let us hope we may in the Land of Spirits;" and ere she, overcome by her
emotion, had power to reply, he had passed on beyond the reach of her
silvery voice.
Immediately on the departure of Peshewa, Girty ordered the canoes to be
drawn ashore and concealed in a thicket near by, where they would be
ready in case they should be wanted for another expedition; and then
leading the way himself, the party proceeded slowly up the Miami, for
about a mile, and encamped for the night, within a hundred yards of the
river.
[Footnote 9: Americans, or Big Knives. We would remark here, that we
have made use altogether of the Shawanoe dialect; that being most common
among all the Ohio tribes, save the Wyandots or Hurons, who spoke an
entirely different language.]
[Footnote 10: Great Spirit.]
CHAPTER XI.
THE ENCAMPMENT OF THE RENEGADE.
It was about ten o'clock on the evening in question, and Simon Girty was
seated by a fire, around which lay stretched at full length some six or
eight dark Indian forms, and near him, on the right, two of another sex
and race. He was evidently in some deep contemplation; for his hat and
rifle were lying by his side, his hands were locked just below his
knees, as if for the purpose of balancing his body in an easy position,
and his eyes fixed intently on the flame, that, waving to and fro in
the wind, threw over his ugly features a ruddy, flickering light, and
extended his shadow to the size and shape of some frightful monster.
The clouds of the late storm had entirely passed away, and through the
checkered openings in the trees overhead could be discerned a few bright
stars, which seemed to sparkle with uncommon brilliancy, owing to the
clearness of the atmosphere. All beyond the immediate circle lighted by
the fire, appeared dark and silent, save the solemn, almost mournful,
sighing of the wind, as it swept among the tree-tops and through the
branches of the surrounding mighty forest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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