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
A wild thought now suddenly thrilled him. He was free, perchance he
might escape; at least he could but die in the attempt; and that, at
all events, was preferable to a lingering death of torture! He looked
hurriedly around. Only the renegade and the squaws were close at hand,
and they engaged in conversation. The main body of the Indians were at a
distance, awaiting him to run the gauntlet. He needed no second thought
to prompt him to the trial; and wheeling about, he placed his hand upon
the wound, and bounded away with the fleetness of the deer. In a moment
the yells of an hundred savages in pursuit, sounded in his ear, and
urged him onward to the utmost of his strength. He was no mean runner at
any time; now he was flying to save his life, and every nerve did its
duty. Before him was a slope, that stretched away to the river Miami;
and down this he fled with a velocity that astonished himself; while
yell after yell of the demons behind, now in full chase, were to him
only so many death cries, to stimulate him to renewed exertions. At last
he gained the river and rushed into the water. It was not deep, and he
struggled forward with all his might. On the opposite side was a steep
hill and thicket. Could he but gain that, hope whispered he might elude
his pursuers and escape. Again he redoubled his exertions; and, joy--joy
to his heart--he reached it, just as the foremost of his adversaries,
a powerful and fleet young warrior, dashed into the stream from the
opposite bank. He now for the first time began to feel weak and
fatigued; but his life was yet in danger, and he still pressed onward.
Alas! alas! just on the point of escape, his strength was failing him
fast, the blood was trickling too from his wound, and a sharp, severe
pain afflicted him in his side. Oh God! he thought--what would he not
give for the strength and soundness of body he once possessed! The
thicket he had entered was dense and dark, so that it was impossible to
move through it with much velocity, or see ahead any distance; and as
the thought just recorded rushed through his brain, he came suddenly
upon a high, steep rock. By this time his nearest pursuer was also
entering the thicket; and in a minute or two more he felt capture would
be certain, unless he could instantly secrete himself till his strength
should be again renewed. Fortune for once now seemed to stand his
friend; for stooping down at the base of the rock, he discovered it
to be shelving and projecting somewhat over the declivity; so that by
dropping upon the ground and crawling up under it, he would, owing to
the density and darkness of the thicket, as before mentioned, be wholly
concealed from any one standing upright. To do this was the work of a
moment; and the next he heard his pursuing foe rush panting by, with
much the same sense of relief that one experiences on awakening from a
horrible dream, where death seemed inevitable, and finding oneself lying
safely and easily in a comfortable bed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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