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Caswell, H. S. (Harriet S.), 1834-

"The Path of Duty, and Other Stories"

" We instantly
signified our willingness to trust ourselves to his guidance, and,
shouldering our blankets and guns, we left our camp, and followed our
guide due north at a rapid gait. For several miles we strode through the
thick woods, every moment scratching our faces and tearing our clothing,
with the thick tangled brush through which we had to pass, but
considering this of minor importance we hurried on in silence, save when
we intruded too near the nest of the nocturnal king of the forest, when
a wild hoot made us start and involuntarily grasp our rifles. "Sit on
this log and eat," said our red guide. Finding our appetites sharpened
by vigorous exercise, we sat on the log and commenced our repast, when
our guide suddenly sprang from his seat, and with a hideous yell bolted
into the forest and was soon lost to our sight. This conduct instantly
roused our fear; and with one accord we sprang to our feet. We gazed
around. Turn which way we would, the grim visage of a painted warrior
met our terrified gaze, with his tomahawk in one hand, and his rifle in
the other. "Perfidious villain," exclaimed Ralph, "and this is an
Indian's faith." An Indian of gigantic size, dressed in all the gaudy
trappings of a chief, now strode towards us.


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