The Ranger; Or, The Fugitives of the BorderEllis, Edward Sylvester
General
The Ranger; Or, The Fugitives of the Border
Ellis, Edward Sylvester
Frontier and pioneer life -- Ohio -- Fiction
Leland's hands, as we have said, were bound behind; consequently it was
necessary that he should turn upon his side in order that Kent might
reach them. He knew this and made the movement; but his excitement and
agitation were so great that he turned too far, and in recovering
himself, awoke the savage. His presence of mind and Kent's cunning saved
him. He groaned deeply and muttered to himself, while the hunter started
up as though he had just awoke, and gazed wonderingly at him.
"I wish he'd keep still," said he, in the Indian tongue, lying down
again. This satisfied the other, who fell back and closed his eyes.
For an hour neither stirred. At the end of that time, Kent raised his
head and gazed cautiously around upon the circle of sleeping savages.
Zeb was at a short distance, resting as calmly as an infant upon its
mother's breast. The one beside Leland had again passed off to the land
of dreams; yet an Indian never sleeps soundly, and the slightest mishap
upon the part of those who were awake and expecting to move, might
arouse the whole body and bring certain and instant death upon them. It
would not do to awaken the sleeping sentinel again. Life now hung upon a
thread.
Kent reached beneath Leland and cut the cord. He was now free and at
liberty to move.
"Be careful!" whispered the hunter, as he assisted him to his feet.
Leland could not suppress his agitation, yet he used all the caution in
his power. But cautious as they both were, the savage nearest them
awoke. Kent had his eye upon him, and the instant he stirred, sprung
like a panther toward him. One hand clutched his mouth, his knee pressed
heavily upon his breast, and whipping out his knife, he forced it to the
hilt in his body. Nothing but the dull, fleshy sound, as it sunk into
the seat of life, was heard. The bloody stream silently followed its
withdrawal, there were several spasmodic struggles, and the savage
straightened out in death.
Kent arose from the body and motioned to Leland to follow him. Not
another being was awake, and tremblingly he followed over their
prostrate, sleeping forms. They were just passing into the thick
surrounding darkness, when the negro, through some means, awoke.
"Gorra," he shouted, "isn't you gwine to help dis pusson too?"
"Cuss that nigger," muttered the hunter. "Keep close to me and use your
pegs, fur a long run's before us."
Both darted away together, as the wild yells told them that their escape
was discovered. Those horrid, unearthly whoops, of which no idea can be
had unless they be heard, set Leland's blood on fire. In a moment the
whole forest seemed swarming with their enemies, and the yells of many
were fearfully near. Kent could distance any of them when alone, yet the
presence of Leland retarded him somewhat. However, by taking the
latter's hand, they both passed over the ground with great swiftness,
and neither had much fear of being overtaken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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