undergo so awful a change, and amongst whom it would develope into a fiend? For those who once dwelt with the Indians in the mountains, and adopted their customs and habits, became fiends, 'twas said, and nothing else. This horror, as well as the dread of being surprised and having our houses burnt over our heads, we had always with us, always, always; as well also as the fear of being carried into captivity and tortured; or, in the case of girls like myself, of being subjected to worse than torture. When we lay down to sleep at night we knew not whether we should be awakened ere morning by some one knocking at our door and calling, "The Indians! The Indians!" If we looked forth on to our garden to observe its beauties as it lay in the moonlight, we deemed ourselves fortunate if we did not, some time or other, see the hideous painted face of a savage and his snake-like eyes gleaming at us from behind a tree or bush. Sometimes, also, floating down the river at night, when there was no moon, would be discerned by those who had sharp eyes the canoes of our dreaded foes bent on some awful errand, and full of painted, crouching savages. And then, through the still night air, would ring the ping of bullets discharged from the shore by some of the men who were always on the watch for such visitations; a canoe, or perhaps two, would be sunk, and a day or so afterwards there would be washed ashore the naked bodies of some horrid dyed Indians who had been drowned, or shot, as they were surprised. I do not say 'twas always so, but it was so very frequently, and scarce a summer passed by that we did not have some visits from them, while we ever lived in dread of a determined onslaught from a whole tribe in which not only our farm, plantations, homesteads, or manors should be surrounded by hundreds of our foe, but also entire villages or towns.