Neal, the Miller: A Son of Liberty — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Neal, the Miller: A Son of Liberty
John Stuart Mill · en
He spent several hours in this work, and had fully decided upon the
location for the building when he was startled by hearing what sounded
very like a human voice among the underbrush a short distance from the
shore.
With his gun held ready for instant use in case any danger threatened,
he went cautiously in the direction from which the noise appeared to
have come, and after a brief time threw aside the weapon with an
exclamation of dismay.
In a dense portion of the forest, where were several aged trees
partially decayed at their base, he dimly saw the figure of a man,
apparently pinned to the ground by the heavy branches of a fallen
hemlock.
He was sufficiently versed in woodcraft to understand that the
unfortunate had either felled a tree which had fallen upon him, or
passed beneath one of the giants of the forest at the precise moment
when its rotten trunk gave way under the burden of the enormous top.
A low moan from the sufferer told he was yet alive, and at the same
time proclaimed that relief must soon come if death was to be cheated
of its prey.
"Hold out a few minutes longer, friend," Walter cried, cheerily. "I
must have an axe before I can do very much toward getting you free from
that timber."
There was no reply; the poor wretch's strength was nearly exhausted,
and the boy understood that he must work, with all possible speed if he
would save a human life.
"It seems that my coming here may be of more use than simply hiding
from Sam Haines," he cried, as he ran with all speed toward the spot
where the goods had been left. "I have been grumbling because Stephen
brought an axe instead of a hatchet, but now I should be able to do
very little without it."
Ten minutes later he was chopping furiously at the imprisoning
branches, using due care to prevent additional injury to the helpless
man, and when so much of the foliage had been cut away as to give him a
clear view of what was beneath, he exclaimed in surprise,--
"An Indian! What could have brought him so near the town?"
Then he forgot the colour of the sufferer, thought not of what his kind
had done in the way of savage cruelty to helpless women and children,
but devoted all his strength and energies to releasing him.
The wretch was so nearly dead as to be unable to render any assistance
to his would-be rescuer, and at least half an hour elapsed before
Walter could drag him from beneath the heavy weight which had so nearly
deprived him of life.
When this work was accomplished, it seemed to have been in vain, so far
as saving life was concerned; but, fortunately, Walter did not cease
his efforts. Dragging the apparently lifeless body to the river, he
applied such restoratives as were at hand, and after a short time had
the satisfaction of seeing the red man open his eyes.