gentle murmurs could be heard even where he stood. Beyond this stream, the ground, in pleasing undulations, took a gentle rise, to a goodly height, and was covered by what is termed an open wood—a wood peculiar to Kentucky at this period—consisting of trees in the regularity of an orchard, at some distance apart, devoid of underbrush, beneath which the earth was beautifully carpeted with a rank growth of clover, high grass, and wild flowers innumerable. In the rear of the young hunter, as if to form a background to the picture, was the wood he had just quitted, which, continuing the elevation spoken of, but more abruptly, rose high above him, and was crowned by a ledge of rocks. Far in the distance, to his right, could be seen another high ridge; while to the left, spreading far away from the mouth of the valley, if we may so term it, like the prairies of Missouri, was a beautiful tangle, or cane-brake, containing its thousands of wild animals. The open space wherein the hunter stood was not large, covering an area of not more than half a dozen acres. It was of an oblong form, and sloped off from his position to the right, left, and front, and reached from the wood down to the stream in the valley, where stood a rather neat log cabin, from which a light blue smoke ascended in graceful wreaths. The eye of the stranger, glancing over the scene, fell upon this latter with that gleam of satisfaction which is felt by a person after performing a long fatiguing journey, when he sees before him a comfortable inn, where he is to repose for the night; and pausing for a couple of minutes, he replaced his rifle upon his shoulder, and started forward down the hill, at a leisure pace.

Scarcely had the stranger advanced twenty paces, when he was startled by a fierce yell, accompanied by the report of a rifle, the ball of which whizzed past him, within an inch of his head. Ere he could recover from his surprise, a sharp pain in the side, followed by another report, caused him to reel like one intoxicated, and finally sink to the earth. As the young man fell, two Indians sprung from behind a cluster of bushes, which skirted the clearing some seventy-five yards to the right, and, with a whoop of triumph, tomahawk in hand, rushed toward him. Believing that his life now depended upon his own speedy exertions, the young hunter, by a great effort, succeeded in raising himself on his knees; and drawing up his rifle with a hasty aim, he fired; but with no other success than that of causing one of the savages to jerk his head suddenly aside without slackening his speed. There was still a chance left him; and setting his teeth hard, the wounded man drew his pistols from his belt, and awaited the approach of his enemies; who, when within thirty paces, discovering the weapons of death, suddenly came to a halt, and commenced loading their rifles with great rapidity.

The young hunter now perceived, with painful regret, that only an interposition of Providence could save him, for his life was hanging on a thread that might snap at any moment. It was an awful moment of suspense, as there, on his knees, far, far away from the land of his birth, in a strange country, he, in the prime of life, without a friend near, wounded and weak, was waiting to die, like a wild beast, by the hands of savages, with his scalp to be borne hence as a trophy, his flesh to be devoured by wolves, and his bones left to bleach in the open air. It was an awful moment of suspense! and a thousand thoughts came rushing through his mind; and he felt he would have given worlds, were they his, for the existence of even half an hour, with a friend by, to receive his dying requests. To add to his despair, he felt himself fast growing weaker and weaker; and with an unsteady vision, as his last hope, he turned his eye in the direction of the cottage, to note if any assistance were at hand; but he saw none; and nature failing to support him longer in his position, he sunk back upon the ground, believing the last sands of his existence were run.

Meantime, the Indians had loaded their rifles; and one of them, stepping a pace in front of his companion, was already in the act of aiming, when, perceiving the young man falter and sink back, he lowered the muzzle of his gun, and, grasping his tomahawk, darted forward to despatch him without further loss of ammunition. Already had he reached within five or six paces of his victim, who, now unable to exert himself in his own defence, could only look upon his savage enemy and the weapon uplifted for his destruction, when, crack went another rifle, in an opposite direction whence the Indians approached, and, bounding into the air, with a terrific yell, the foremost fell dead by the young man's side. On seeing his companion fall, the other Indian, who was only a few paces behind, stopped suddenly, and, with a yell of fear and disappointment, turned and fled.

Those only who have been placed in peril sufficient to extinguish the last gleam of hope, and have suddenly been relieved by a mysterious interposition of Providence, can fully realize the feelings with which the wounded hunter saw himself rescued from an ignominious death. True, he was weak and faint from a wound which was, perhaps, mortal; still it was a great consolation to feel that he should die among those who would bury him, and perhaps bear a message to friends in a far-off land. With such thoughts uppermost in his mind, the young man, by great exertion, raised himself upon his elbow, and turned his head in the direction whence his deliverer might be expected; but, to his surprise and disappointment, no one appeared; and after vainly attempting to regain his feet, he sunk back, completely exhausted. The wound in his side had now grown very painful, and was bleeding freely; while he became conscious, that unless the hemorrhage could be stanched immediately, the only good service a friend could render him, would be to inter his remains. In this helpless state, something like a minute elapsed, when he felt a strange sensation about his heart—his head grew dizzy—his thoughts seemed confused—the sky appeared suddenly to grow dark, and he believed the icy grasp of death was already settling upon him. At this moment a form—but whether of friend or foe he could not tell—flitted before his uncertain vision; and then all became darkness and nonentity. He had swooned.

When the young stranger recovered his senses, after a lapse of some ten minutes, his glance rested on the form of a white hunter, of noble aspect, who was bending over him with a compassionate look; and who, meantime, had opened his dress to the wound and stanched the blood, by covering it with a few pieces of coarse linen, which he had torn into shreds for the purpose, and secured there by means of his belt.

As this latter personage is destined to figure somewhat in the following pages, we shall take this opportunity of describing him as he appeared to our wounded friend.

In height and proportion—but not in age—these two individuals were somewhat alike—the new comer being full five feet, ten inches, with a robust, athletic frame, and all the concomitants of a powerful man. At the moment when first beheld by the young man, after regaining his senses, he was kneeling by his side, his cap of the wild-cat skin was lying on the ground, and the last mellow rays of the setting sun were streaming upon an intelligent and manly countenance, which, now rendered more deeply interesting by the earnest, compassionate look wherewith he regarded the other, made him appear to that other, in his peculiar situation, this most noble being he had ever seen. Of years he had seen some fifty; though there was a freshness about his face, owing probably to his hardy, healthy mode of life, which made him appear much younger. His countenance was open and pleasing, with good, regular, though not, strictly speaking, handsome features. His forehead was high and full, beneath which beamed a mild, clear blue eye. His nose was rather long and angular; his cheekbones high and bold; his lips thin and compressed,