scowl at me, and I knew he wasinwardly vowing deep revenge. As for the little boy, Tom, he was takenentirely out of the overseer's charge, and became message-boy and`buttons' about the house.
"It was before the tremendous civil war had broken out in America, Ben,and I was very young and just a bit romantic. Perhaps I really was inlove with dear Miriam. At all events, there was nothing I would nothave done for her, and I was never so perfectly, so serenely happy aswhen in her sweet presence. But everyone loved Miriam, ay, every slaveabout the place, and every beast and every bird. The wandering Indiansthat occasionally came around looked upon her as some being better thanthemselves, and I believe that even when they were on the war-path shemight have gone to their camps, or to their fastnesses in thewilderness, and need have dreaded nought of ill.
"It came to pass that Miriam was invited to spend a week at the house ofa friend who lived some twenty miles from the old mansion.
"Her father took her over, and--for sake of the drive we shall say,Ben--I went along with him. I never enjoyed any drive so much, at allevents. At the end of the week, as my host was not over well, I boldlyvolunteered to go alone for Miriam, and my proposition was accepted.
"I should sleep one night at the house where she had gone, and togetherwe should drive home next day. I knew every foot of the road and everyfeature of the scenery; even should we be belated, there would be brightmoonlight. At any time, a ride through the forests and hills of the farWest, when the full moon is shining down from a clear sky, is a treat tobe remembered, but with such companionship as I should enjoy, why, it isbliss, Ben, and nothing less.
"Now, something out of the common occurred on the very day I left tobring Miriam home. It was this: both Joliffe and Shoe-Sally weremissed. Poor Tom was disconsolate in the extreme, and went about allthe forenoon with tears coursing along his nose, almost as big as thesilver buttons he wore on his jacket.
"That same day at noon a strange meeting took place between two braves,apparently Indians, in one of the deepest and darkest nooks of the greatforest. The spot was on the brink of a deep canon almost filled up withfallen trees, the result of some terrible storm.
"One savage, who evidently belonged to the warlike Apaches, and was achief, sat quietly and meditatively smoking. The other leaned upon hisclub, and did all the talking, and this most energetically.
"`Ugh!' said the sitting chief; `but the paleface and I am at peace. Ilike it not. I care not for his scalp.'
"`But think of the gold I offer you,' said his companion; `think of thefire-water it will buy you. You will be happy for ever with such wealthand riches, and think of the _prize_. You are a great chief, thispaleface girl will be brighter than the sunshine in your wigwam, sweeterfar than the wild bee's honey. Think.'
"Nearer and nearer to a rifted tree not far from these two men crept adark figure, moving along low on the ground, and as silently as a snakeglides, till their every word became audible, their every gesturevisible.
"There was much more that the club-armed savage said which need not berepeated. Suffice it to say that the listener heard all, or heardenough, then retired with the same stealthy gliding motion as it hadapproached.
"Miriam and I set out about noon next day on our return journey.
"With our spirited horse, and light waggonette, three hours would havetaken us home easily. But we did not hurry the horse, and it was twoo'clock ere we had accomplished half the distance.
"`We must be quick,' cried Miriam, looking at her watch with some degreeof anxiety depicted on her lovely face.
"She had hardly spoken these words ere an Indian woman tearing a childon her back in her blanket, suddenly appeared at the bend of the road,and begged for a few coppers. I felt too happy to refuse, and drew up.The woman leaned against the wheel, a silver coin glittered in her hand,and next moment we had driven on.
"Our path now wound along through a beautiful forest, and close by thebanks of a lake.
"The view was charming in the extreme, and I could not help stopping forjust a moment that we might gaze on it. The day was hot and still;there was silence on the hills, silence on pine wood and lake, brokenonly by an occasional plash as a fish leaped up, or a bird stirred theglassy waters with glad wing. We were almost close to the edge of afearful precipice.
"`Get me that flower,' murmured Miriam, pointing to a deep crimsonanemone that grew by the side of the road.
"I sprang down to get it. I had hardly reached the ground ere one ofthe front wheels flew off and rolled over the rock; it took all mystrength to support that side of the machine, until Miriam shouldalight.
"My thoughts at once reverted to the Indian woman who had leaned againstthe wheel. She had doubtless drawn the linch-pin.
"There was treachery of some kind in the wind. But what could it mean?I never for a moment thought of Joliffe and his possible revenge.
"As quickly as fingers could work, I took out the horse and tied him toa tree, then I backed the carriage into a sheltering corner of the rock,and hardly had I done so ere the whole forest resounded with the howlingof vengeful savages.
"I had expected no assistance from Miriam, and was surprised to get it.But the dear girl had all the courage and coolness in danger of a trueAmerican woman. Armed with a revolver each, we gave those Redskins awarm reception; and though the bullets rattled on the rocks behind uslike the hail on our window panes, Ben, they retired discomfited.
"We could hardly expect to remain where we were much longer, and hopeitself was sinking in my heart, when the yelling was renewed, and theIndians came on a second time to the attack.
"Ah! but help was at hand. Savages can _yell_, but there is nothing soblood-stirring as the wild `hurrah!' of a Briton or an American.
"We heard it now, and sent back cheer for cheer.
"I can hardly describe the scene that followed. It was a fierce_melee_, a hand-to-hand contest, and dreadful while it lasted. But theRedskins were beaten, Ben, at length, as Redskins always have been inthe long run who crossed sword or spear against civilised man.
"For the life of me I could never tell how long that fight continued.It might have been but five minutes--it might have been an hour.
"But there, in the midst of the dead and the dying, stood Miriam, lockedin her father's arms.
"Ben," I continued, after a pause, "the most mournful part of my taleremains to be told. It was poor, droll, innocent Shoe-Sally who hadfollowed Joliffe to the forest that day, dodged him while he disguisedhimself, and crept after him, and listened to all he had said to theApache chief. She had hurried home again and exposed his treachery, andas it happened our friends were on the spot barely in time to save ourlives."
"And Shoe-Sally?" said Ben; "what became of her?"
"We found her among the dying.
"`My brudder, my brudder!' was all she ever said ere death stepped inand closed the scene."
There was moisture in my friend's eyes as he bent down to stir the fire.
"`Poor Sally!' he said; `and were these her last words? Well, Nie, weare all of us brothers and sisters in this world.'"
Yes, my dear readers, all of us, as Ben said, black or white. Rememberthat.
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The End.
O'er Many Lands, on Many Seas Page 20