The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 8, April, 1835Various
General
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 8, April, 1835
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
"A number of horses stood tied around the lodge, and Sinepaw cut loose
the cords of two of the best, which we quickly mounted. I drew my bow
and arrows, and rode slowly forward, making as little noise as
possible; but a young man soon discovered us, and gave the alarm!
Laying whip to our horses, we soon cleared the camp, dashed down the
bank, and crossed the river on the ice; but the uproar which we heard
behind us, and the thundering of horses' feet over the frozen prairie,
too plainly told that we were closely pursued. The storm continued to
roar, and the darkness was greater than ever. Sometimes I heard a shot
behind us, and a hundred voices calling out loudly to each other; but
we still kept on our way, at the full speed of our steeds, and in
about two hours from the time we started, the tempest had spent its
rage, and daylight began to dawn. At sun-rise I rode to the top of a
hill, in order to survey the country and the better to shape my
course, when I spied two _Flat-heads_ on horseback, not far to my
right, who, seeing me also, raised a shout of triumph, and immediately
rushed forward in pursuit. I knew it was in vain to fly; our horses
were already weary and faint, and could hold out no longer. I made
signs to Sinepaw to come to the top of the hill, when seizing her
horse by the rein, I sheathed my knife blade in his throat, and dealt
the same fatal blow at my own. Their lifeblood gushed as a spring, and
as they staggered and fell, I placed their bodies around us, to form
an entrenchment for defence.
"The warriors soon rode up, and discharged their guns, but their balls
fell harmless, or lodged in the carcases which protected us. They
fired again and again, but I still lay motionless, for as I had but
nine arrows left, I had not one to throw away. At last they began to
conclude that I had no arms, and they ventured to ride still nearer. I
heard the trampling of their horses a few steps off; my bow and arrows
were prepared, and I raised my head, but withdrew it as quick as
lightning. They fired at once, but their fire came too late: I sprang
upon my feet, and before the _Flat-heads_ could either reload or
retreat, I sent two arrows through the body of one, and one through
the head of the other. They attempted to fly, but both were brought to
the ground. I raised the war whoop of the Spotted Eagle, and rushing
down the side of the hill, I secured their scalps and guns. Here they
are!" he exclaimed, exhibiting his spoils in triumph; "who can now say
that the White Antelope is not a warrior, or who can refuse him his
daughter as a wife?"
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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