SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 693 | Next

Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)

"Our World, Or, the Slaveholder's Daughter"

It was but yesterday he saw Jerushe, who
shared with him her corn-cakes, which, when she does not meet him at
his accustomed spot, she places at the foot of a marked tree. Bob
had added a few chips to his night fire, (his defence against
tormenting mosquitoes), and made his moss bed. Having tamed an owl
and a squirrel, they now make his rude camp their home, and share
his crumbs. The squirrel nestles above his head, as the owl, moping
about the camp entrance, suddenly hoots a warning and flutters its
way into the thicket. Starting to his feet with surprise-the
squirrel chirping at the sudden commotion-the tramp of horses breaks
fearfully upon the old man's ear; bewildered he bounds from the
camp. Two water oaks stand a few feet from its entrance, and through
them he descries his pursuers bearing down upon him at full speed,
the dogs making the very forest echo with their savage yelps. They
are close upon him; the island is his only refuge! Suddenly he leaps
to the bank, plunges into the stream, and with death-like struggles
gains the opposite shore, where he climbs a cedar, as the dogs,
eager with savage pursuit, follow in his wake, and are well nigh
seizing his extremities ere they cleared their vicious spring. The
two horsemen vault to the spot from whence the old man plunged into
the water; and while the dogs make hideous ravings beneath the tree,
they sit upon their horses, consulting, as the old man, from the
tree top, looks piteously over the scene.


Pages:
681 682 683 684 685 686 687 688 689 690 691 692 693 694 695 696 697 698 699 700 701 702 703 704 705