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LESSON EIGHTY-FOURTH.

The Humane Indian.

An Indian who had not met with his usual success in hunting, wandered down to a plantation among the back settlements in Virginia; and seeing a planter at his door, asked for a morsel of bread, for he was very hungry. The planter bid him begone, for he would give him none.

Will you give me a cup of your beer? said the Indian. No, you shall have none here, replied the planter. But I am very faint, said the savage. Will you give me only a draught of cold water? Get you gone, you Indian dog; you shall have nothing here, said the planter.

It happened some months after, that the planter went on a shooting party up into the woods, where, intent upon his game, he missed his company, and lost his way; and night coming on, he wandered through the forest, till he espied an Indian wigwam.

He approached the savage's habitation, and asked him to show him the way to a plantation on that side the country. It is too late for you to go there this evening, sir, said the Indian; but if you will accept of my homely fare, you are welcome.

He then offered him some venison, and such other refreshment as his store afforded, and having laid some bearskins for his bed, he desired that he would repose himself for the night, and he would awake him early in the morning, and conduct him on his way.

Accordingly in the morning they set off, and the Indian led him out of the forest, and put him into the road which he was to pursue; but just as they were taking leave, he stepped before the planter, and turning round, staring full in his face, asked him whether he recollected his features. The planter was now struck with shame and confusion, when he recognised, in his

kind protector, the Indian whom he had so harshly treated.

He confessed that he knew him, and was full of excuses for his brutal behavior; to which the Indian only replied; When you see poor Indians fainting for a cup of cold water, don't say again, "Get you "" The Indian then wished gone, you Indian dog.' him well on his journey, and left him. It is not difficult to say which of these two had the best claim to the name of Christian.

LESSON EIGHTY-FIFTH.

Running for Life.

On the arrival of the exploratory party of Lewis and Clarke at the head waters of the Missouri, one of their number, of the name of Colter, observing the appearance of abundance of beaver, got permission to remain and hunt for some time, which he did, in company with a hunter named Potts. Aware of the hostility of the Blackfeet Indians, one of whom had been killed by Lewis, they set their traps at night, and took them up early in the morning, remaining concealed during the day.

They were examining their traps early one morning, in a creek, about six miles from that branch of the Missouri called Jefferson's Fork, and were ascending in a canoe, when they suddenly heard a great noise, resembling the trampling of animals; but they could not ascertain the fact, as the high perpendicular banks on each side of the river impeded their view.

Colter immediately pronounced it to be occasioned by Indians, and advised an instant retreat; but was accused of cowardice by Potts, who insisted that the noise was caused by buffaloes, and they proceeded on. In a few minutes afterwards, their doubts were re

moved, by a party of Indians making their appearance on both sides of the creek, to the amount of five or six hundred, who beckoned them to come on shore.

As retreat was now impossible, Colter turned the head of the canoe to the shore, and, at the moment of its touching, an Indian seized the rifle belonging to Potts; but Colter, who was a remarkably strong man, immediately retook it, and handed it to Potts, who remained in the canoe, and, on recovering it, pushed off into the river. He had scarcely quitted the shore, when an arrow was shot at him, and he cried out, Colter, I am wounded.

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Colter remonstrated with him on the folly of attempting to escape, and urged him to come on shore.

In

stead of complying, he instantly levelled his rifle at an Indian, and shot him dead on the spot. This conduct, situated as he was, may appear to have been an act of madness, but it was doubtless the effect of sudden, but sound enough reasoning; for, if taken alive, he must have expected to be tortured to death, according to the Indian custom. He was instantly pierced with arrows so numerous, that, to use the language of Colter, "he was made a riddle of."

They now seized Colter, stripped him entirely naked, and began to consult on the manner in which he should be put to death. They were first inclined to set him up as a mark to shoot at; but the chief interfered, and, seizing him by the shoulder, asked him if he could run fast? Colter, who had been some time among the Kee Catsa, or Crow Indians, had, in a considerable degree, acquired the Blackfoot language, and was also well acquainted with Indian customs; he knew that he had now to run for his life, with the dreadful odds of five or six hundred against him, and these armed Indians; he therefore cunningly replied, that he was a very bad runner, although he was considered by the hunters as remarkably swift.

The chief now commanded the party to remain sta

tionary, and led Colter out on the prairie three or four hundred yards, and released him, bidding him save himself if he could. At that instant, the war whoop sounded in the ears of poor Colter, who, urged with a hope of preserving life, ran with a speed at which he was himself surprised.

He proceeded towards the Jefferson's Fork, having to traverse a plain six miles in breadth, abounding with the prickly pear, on which he was every instant treading with his naked feet. He ran nearly half way across the plain, before he ventured to look over his shoulder, when he perceived that the Indians were very much scattered, and that he had gained ground to a considerable distance from the main body; but one Indian, who carried a spear, was much before all the rest, and not more than a hundred yards from him.

A faint gleam of hope now cheered the heart of Colter; he derived confidence from the belief that escape was in the bounds of possibility, but that confidence was nearly fatal to him; for he exerted himself to such a degree, that the blood gushed from his nostrils, and soon almost covered the fore part of his body. He had now arrived within a mile of the river, when he distinctly heard the appalling sound of footsteps behind him, and every instant expected to feel the spear of his pursuer.

Again he turned his head, and saw the savage not twenty yards from him. Determined, if possible, to avoid the expected blow, he suddenly stopped, turned round, and spread out his arms. The Indian, surprised by the suddenness of the action, and, perhaps, at the bloody appearance of Colter, also attempted to stop; but, exhausted with running, he fell, whilst endeavoring to throw his spear, which stuck in the ground, and broke in his hand. Colter instantly snatched up the pointed part, with which he pinned him to the earth, and then continued his flight,

The foremost of the Indians, on arriving at the place, stopped till others came up to join them, when they set up a hideous yell. Every moment of this time was improved by Colter, who, although fainting and exhausted, succeeded in gaining the skirting of the cotton wood trees, on the border of the Fork, to which he ran, and plunged into the river. Fortunately for him, a little below this place there was an island, against the upper point of which a raft of drift timber had lodged; he dived under the raft, and, after several efforts, got his head above water, amongst the trunks of trees, covered over with smaller wood to the depth of several feet.

Scarcely had he secured himself, when the Indians arrived on the river, screeching and yelling in a most frightful manner. They were frequently on the raft during the day, and were seen through the chinks by Colter, who was congratulating himself on his escape, till the idea arose that they might set the raft on fire. In horrible suspense, he remained until night; when, hearing no more of the Indians, he dived from under the raft, and swam instantly down the river to a considerable distance, when he landed, and travelled all night.

Although happy in having escaped from the Indians, his situation was still dreadful; he was completely naked, under a burning sun; the soles of his feet were filled with the thorns of the prickly pear; he was hungry, and had no means of killing game, although he saw abundance around him, and was at a great distance from the nearest settlement.

Almost any man but an American hunter would have despaired under such circumstances. The fortitude of Colter continued unshaken. After seven days sore travel, during which he had no other subsistence than the root known by naturalists under the name of psoralea esculenta, he at length arrived in safety at Lisa's fort, on the Bighorn branch of the Roche Jaune river.

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