Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 3, March 1841Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 3, March 1841
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Almost as one report, sounded the guns of every one in the house—the
yells and cries of the wounded and infuriated foe, almost appalled the
stoutest hearts; but this was no time to admit fear, if they felt it.
The Indians were making every exertion to enter over the pile of dead
bodies that blocked up the doorway; and the gun of each man within,
clenched by the barrel, was lowered only to add another to the heap. For
twenty minutes the fight had raged with unabated fury, and with
unrelaxed exertions, when the moon, breaking forth in all her splendor,
exhibited the combatants as plain as in the light of mid-day. One
Indian, stouter and bolder than the rest, had gained an entrance, and
fixing his eyes on Gaston, as he saw him encouraging and directing the
others to their work of death, he gave a loud yell, and sprang at him
like the tiger on his prey. The quick eye and arm of Gaston were too
rapid for him; and in an instant he lay dead from a blow of the young
man’s rifle.
But the strength of the brave little band began at length to fail. Their
numbers had diminished more than half. Before the enemy had, however,
entered, it had been proposed and acceded to, as the only chance, that
the females should attempt an escape from the back door, next the river,
while the men should cover their retreat, as well as their diminished
numbers would admit. Accordingly, the attempt was made, and an exit
gained; the whole force of the Indians being collected at the front
door, to overcome the stubborn resistance of the whites.
The little phalanx stood firm to its post, until they saw the women had
sufficient start to reach the woods before they could be overtaken; and
then, pressed by such superior numbers, they slowly fell back to the
same door, and the few that survived, made a rush, and drew the door
close after them. They had now given way, and nothing but superior speed
could possibly save them. If overtaken before reaching the woods, they
were inevitably lost—if they could gain them they might escape. The
delay caused by the closing of the door was short, and the enemy were
now scarcely fifteen yards in the rear. Fear moved the one party almost
to the speed of lightning—thirst for revenge gave additional strength
to the other. The Indian, fresher than his chase, gained upon them
rapidly. As they heard the savages close upon them, every nerve was
excited, every muscle strained to the utmost. For a short distance
indeed they maintained the same space between them, but alas! the
strength of the whites failed, and too many of them overtaken, fell
beneath the club of the savages. Gaston, who was equal in activity to
any of his pursuers, had soon gained the lead; and with the speed of an
arrow, had increased the distance between him and the Indians.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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