I was soon relieved from the sight. My eyes had sunk below the level of the bank. I had looked my last on the fair, green earth. I could now see only the clayey wall that contained the river, and the water that ran unheeding past me. Once more I fixed my gaze upon the sky, and, with prayerful heart, endeavored to resign myself to my fate. In spite of my endeavors to be calm, the memories of earthly pleasures, and friends, and home, came over me, causing me, at intervals, to break into wild paroxysms, and make fresh, though fruitless struggles. And I was attracted by the neighing of my horse. A thought entered my mind, filling me with fresh hope. "Perhaps my horse--" I lost not a moment. I raised my voice to its highest pitch, and called the animal by name. I knew that he would come at my call. I had tied him but slightly. The cactus limb would snap off. I called again, repeating words that were well known to him. I listened with a bounding heart. For a moment there was silence. Then I heard the quick sounds of his hoof, as though the animal was rearing and struggling to free himself; then I could distinguish the stroke of his heels, in a measured and regular gallop.

Nearer came the sounds; nearer and clearer, until the gallant brute bounded out on the bank above me. There he halted, and, flinging back his tossed mane, uttered a shrill neigh. He was bewildered, and looked upon every side, snorting loudly.

I knew that, having once seen me, he would not stop until he had pressed his nose against my cheek--for this was his usual custom. Holding out my hands I again uttered the magic words. Now looking downward he perceived me, and, stretching himself, sprang out into the channel. The next moment, I held him by the bridle. There was no time to be lost. I was still going down, and my arm-pits were fast nearing the surface of the quicksand. I caught the lariat, and, pa.s.sing it under the saddle-girths, fastened it in a tight, firm knot. I then looped the trailing end, making it secure around my body. I had left enough of the rope, between the bit-ring and the girths, to enable me to check and guide the animal, in case the drag upon my body should be too painful.

All this while the dumb brute seemed to comprehend what I was about. He knew, too, the nature of the ground on which he stood, for, during the operation, he kept lifting his feet alternately to prevent himself from sinking. My arrangements were at length completed, and, with a feeling of terrible anxiety, I gave my horse the signal to move forward. Instead of going off with a start, the intelligent animal stepped away slowly, as though he understood my situation. The lariat tightened, I felt my body moving, and the next moment experienced a wild delight, a feeling I can not describe, as I found myself dragged out of the sand. I sprang to my feet with a shout of joy. I rushed up to my steed, and, throwing my arms around his neck, kissed him with as much delight as I would have kissed a beautiful girl. He answered my embrace with a low whimper, that told me that I was understood.

I looked for my rifle. Fortunately, it had not sunk deeply, and I soon found it. My boots were behind me, but I staid not to look for them, being smitten with a wholesome dread of the place where I had left them.

I was not long in retreating from the arroyo; and, mounting, I galloped back to the trail. It was sundown before I reached the camp, where I was met by the inquiries of my companions. I answered all their questions by relating my adventures, and, for that night, I was again the hero of the camp-fire.

CHASED BY A RHINOCEROS.

On the 22d, says Mr. c.u.mming, ordering my men to move on toward a fountain in the center of the plain, I rode forth with Ruyter, and held east through a grove of lofty and wide-spreading mimosas, most of which were more or less damaged by the gigantic strength of a troop of elephants, which had pa.s.sed there about twelve months before. Having proceeded about two miles with large herds of game on every side, I observed a crusty-looking, old bull borele, or black rhinoceros, c.o.c.king his ears one hundred yards in advance. He had not observed us; and soon after he walked slowly toward us, and stood broadside to, eating some wait-a-bit thorns within fifty yards of me. I fired from my saddle, and sent a bullet in behind his shoulder, upon which he rushed forward about one hundred yards in tremendous consternation, blowing like a grampus, and then stood looking about him. Presently he made off. I followed but found it hard to come up with him. When I overtook him I saw the blood running freely from his wound.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ESCAPE FROM THE RHINOCEROS]

The chase led through a large herd of blue wildebeests, zebras, and springboks, which gazed at us in utter amazement. At length I fired my second barrel, but my horse was fidgety, and I missed. I continued riding alongside of him, expecting in my ignorance that at length he would come to bay, which rhinoceroses never do; when suddenly he fell flat on his broadside on the ground, but recovering his feet, resumed his course as if nothing had happened. Becoming at last annoyed at the length of the chase, as I wished to keep my horses fresh for the elephants, and being indifferent whether I got the rhinoceros or not, as I observed that his horn was completely worn down with age and the violence of his disposition, I determined to bring matters to a crisis; so, spurring my horse, I dashed ahead, and rode right in his path. Upon this, the hideous monster instantly charged me in the most resolute manner, blowing loudly through his nostrils; and, although I quickly wheeled about to my left, he followed me at such a furious pace for several hundred yards, with his horrid h.o.r.n.y snout within a few yards of my horse's tail, that my little Bushman, who was looking on in great alarm, thought his master's destruction inevitable. It was certainly a very near thing; my horse was extremely afraid, and exerted his utmost energies on the occasion. The rhinoceros, however, wheeled about, and continued his former course; and I, being perfectly satisfied with the interview which I had already enjoyed with him, had no desire to cultivate his acquaintance any further, and accordingly made for camp.

BURNING OF THE ERIE.

The steamboat Erie, under command of Captain t.i.tus, left the dock at Buffalo on the afternoon of August 9th, 1841, laden with merchandise, destined for Chicago. As nearly as could be ascertained, she had on board about two hundred persons, including pa.s.sengers and crew.

The boat had been thoroughly overhauled and recently varnished. At the moment of her starting, though the wind was blowing fresh, every thing promised a pleasant and prosperous voyage. Nothing occured to mar this prospect till about eight o'clock in the evening, when the boat was off Silver Creek, about eight miles from the sh.o.r.e, and thirty-three miles from the city, when a slight explosion was heard, and immediately, almost instantaneously, the whole vessel was enveloped in flames. Among the pa.s.sengers were six painters, who were going to Erie to paint the steamboat Madison. They had with them some demijohns filled with spirits of turpentine and varnish, which, unknown to Captain t.i.tus, were placed on the boiler-deck directly over the boilers. One of the firemen who was saved, says he had occasion to go on deck, and seeing the demijons, removed them. They were replaced, but by whom is not known. Their inflammable contents undoubtedly aided the flames in their rapid progress.

Captain t.i.tus, who was on the upper deck at the time of the explosion, rushed to the ladies' cabin to obtain the life-preservers, of which there were about one hundred on board; but, so violent was the heat, he found it impossible to enter the cabin. He returned to the upper deck, on his way giving orders to the engineer to stop the engine, the wind and the headway of the boat increasing the fierceness of the flames and driving them aft. The engineer replied, that in consequence of the flames he could not reach the engine. The steersman was instantly directed to put the helm hard a-starboard. She swung slowly around, heading to the sh.o.r.e, and the boats--there were three on board--were then ordered to be lowered. Two of the boats were lowered, but, in consequence of the heavy sea on, and the headway of the vessel, they both swamped as soon as they touched the water.

We will not attempt to describe the awful and appalling condition of the pa.s.sengers. Some were frantic with fear and horror, others plunged headlong madly into the water, others again seized upon any thing buoyant upon which they could lay hands. The small boat forward had been lowered. It was alongside the wheel, with three or four persons in it, when the captain jumped in, and the boat immediately dropped astern, filled with water. A lady floated by with a life-preserver on. She cried for help. There was no safety in the boat. The captain threw her the only oar in the boat. She caught the oar and was saved. It was Mrs.

Lynde of Milwaukie, and she was the only lady who escaped.

In this condition, the boat, a ma.s.s of fierce fire, and the pa.s.sengers and crew endeavoring to save themselves by swimming or supporting themselves by whatever they could reach, they were found by the steamboat Clinton, at about ten o'clock that night. The Clinton had left Buffalo in the morning, but, in consequence of the wind, had put into Dunkirk. She lay there till near sunset, at which time she ran out, and had proceeded as far as Barcelona, when just at twilight the fire of the Erie was discovered, some twenty miles astern. The Clinton immediately put about, and reached the burning wreck.

It was a fearful sight. All the upper works of the Erie had been burned away. The engine was standing, but the hull was a ma.s.s of dull, red flames. The pa.s.sengers and crew were floating around, screaming in their agony, and shrieking for help. The boats of the Clinton were instantly lowered and manned, and every person that could be seen or heard was picked up, and every possible relief afforded. The Lady, a little steamboat lying at Dunkirk, went out of that harbor as soon as possible, after the discovery of the fire, and arrived soon after the Clinton. By one o'clock in the morning, all was still except the melancholy crackling of the flames. Not a solitary individual could be seen or heard on the wild waste of waters. A line was then made fast to the remains of the Erie's rudder, and an effort made to tow the hapless hulk ash.o.r.e. About this time the Chautauque came up and lent her a.s.sistance.

The hull of the Erie was towed within about four miles of sh.o.r.e, when it sank in eleven fathoms of water. By this time it was daylight. The lines were cast oft. The Clinton headed her course toward Buffalo, which place she reached about six o'clock.

Upon inquiry it was found that there had been between thirty and forty cabin pa.s.sengers, of whom ten or twelve were ladies. In the steerage there were about one hundred and forty pa.s.sengers, nearly all of whom were Swiss and German emigrants. The whole number of persons on board, who were saved, did not exceed twenty-seven.

All that imagination can conceive of the terrible and heart-rending was realized in the awful destruction of this boat. Scores sank despairingly under the wild waters; but there is reason to fear that many, very many, strong men, helpless women, and tender children perished in the flames.

Among the pa.s.sengers were a young gentleman and lady, who first became acquainted with each other on board. The lady was accompanied by her father. Upon an intimacy of a few hours an attachment seems to have been formed between this couple. When the pa.s.sengers rushed to the deck, after the bursting forth of the flames, the lady discovered her new acquaintance on a distant part of the deck, forced her way to him, and implored him to save her. The only alternative left them was to jump overboard, or to submit to a more horrible fate. They immediately jumped, the gentleman making the first plunge, with a view of securing for the young and fair being, who had measurably committed to his hands her safety, a plank floating a short distance from the boat. As soon as the plank was secured, the lady leaped into the water and was buoyed up by her clothes, until the gentleman was enabled to float the plank to her. For a short time the young man thought that his fair charge was safe; but soon his hopes were blasted--one of the fallen timbers struck the lady on the head, her form sank upon the water, a momentary quivering was perceptible, and she disappeared from human view. Her father was lost, but the young gentleman was among the number picked up by the Clinton.

There was a fine race-horse on board, who, soon after the alarm, broke from his halter at the bow of the boat, and dashed through the crowd of pa.s.sengers, prostrating all in his way; and then, rendered frantic by terror and pain, he reared and plunged into the devouring fire, and there ended his agony.

One of the persons saved, in describing the scene, says:--"The air was filled with shrieks of agony and despair. The boldest turned pale. I shall never forget the wail of terror that went up from the poor German emigrants, who were huddled together on the forward deck. Wives clung to their husbands, mothers frantically pressed their babes to their bosoms, and lovers clung madly to each other. One venerable old man, his gray hairs streaming on the wind, stood on the bows, and, stretching out his bony hands, prayed to G.o.d in the language of his father-land.

"But if the scene forward was terrible, that aft was appalling, for there the flames were raging in their greatest fury. Some madly rushed into the fire; others, with a yell like a demon, maddened with the flames, which were all around them, sprang headlong into the waves. The officers of the boat, and the crew, were generally cool, and sprang to lower the boats, but these were every one successively swamped by those who threw themselves into them, regardless of the execrations of the sailors, and of every thing but their own safety.

"I tried to act coolly--I kept near the captain, who seemed to take courage from despair, and whose bearing was above all praise. The boat was veering toward the sh.o.r.e, but the maddened flames now enveloped the wheel-house, and in a moment the machinery stopped. The last hope had left us--a wilder shriek rose upon the air. At this moment the second engineer, the one at the time on duty, who had stood by his machinery as long as it would work, was seen climbing the gallows-head, a black ma.s.s, with the flames curling all around him. On either side he could not go, for it was now one ma.s.s of fire. He sprang upward, came to the top, one moment felt madly around him, and then fell into the flames. There was no more remaining on board, for the boat now broached around and rolled upon the swelling waves, a ma.s.s of fire. I seized upon a settee near me, and gave one spring, just as the flames were bursting through the deck where I stood--one moment more and I should have been in the flames. In another instant I found myself tossed on a wave, grasping my frail support with a desperate energy."

One of the not least interesting facts connected with the catastrophe, was that the helmsman was found burnt to a cinder at his post. He had not deserted it even in the last extremity, but grasped with his charred fingers the wheel. His name was Luther Fuller. Honor to his memory!

A boy of twelve years of age, named Levi T. Beebee, belonging to Cleveland, Ohio, was among those saved. He exhibited a degree of self-possession and fort.i.tude rarely surpa.s.sed. Though molten lead from the burning deck was dropping on his head, and his hands were scorched by the flames, he clung for at least two hours and a half to the chain leading from the stern to the rudder.

CONFLICT WITH AN INDIAN.

David Morgan had settled upon the Monongahela during the early part of the revolutionary war, and at this time had ventured to occupy a cabin at the distance of several miles from any settlement.

One morning, having sent his younger children out to a field at a considerable distance from the house, he became uneasy about them, and repaired to the spot where they were working. He was armed, as usual, with a good rifle. While sitting upon the fence and giving some directions as to their work, he observed two Indians upon the other side of the field gazing earnestly upon the party. He instantly called to the children to make their escape, while he should attempt to cover their retreat.

The odds were greatly against him, as in addition to other circ.u.mstances, he was nearly seventy years of age, and, of course, unable to contend with his enemies in running. The house was more than a mile distant, but the children, having two hundred yards the start, and being effectually covered by their father, were soon so far in front, that the Indians turned their attention entirely to the old man. He ran for several hundred yards with an activity which astonished himself, but perceiving that he would be overtaken, long before he could reach his home, he fairly turned at bay, and prepared for a strenuous resistance.

The woods through which they were running were very thin, and consisted almost entirely of small trees, behind which, it was difficult to obtain proper shelter.

Morgan had just pa.s.sed a large walnut, and, in order to resist with advantage, it became necessary to run back about ten steps in order to regain it. The Indians were startled at the sudden advance of the fugitive, and halted among a cl.u.s.ter of saplings, where they anxiously strove to shelter themselves. This, however, was impossible; and Morgan, who was an excellent marksman, saw enough of the person of one of them to justify him in risking a shot. His enemy instantly fell, mortally wounded.

The other Indian, taking advantage of Morgan's empty gun, sprung from the shelter, and advanced rapidly upon him. The old man, having no time to reload, was compelled to fly a second time. The Indian gained rapidly upon him, and, when within twenty steps, fired, but with so unsteady an aim, that Morgan was wholly unhurt, the ball having pa.s.sed over his shoulder.

He now again stood at bay, clubbing his rifle for a blow, while the Indian, dropping his empty gun, brandished his tomahawk and prepared to throw it at his enemy. Morgan struck with the b.u.t.t of his gun, and the Indian hurled his tomahawk at one and the same moment. Both blows took effect; and both of the combatants were at once wounded and disarmed.

The breech of the rifle was broken against the Indian's skull, and the edge of the tomahawk was shattered against the barrel of the rifle, having first cut off two of the fingers of Morgan's left hand. The Indian then attempting to draw his knife, Morgan grappled him, and bore him to the ground. A furious struggle ensued, in which the old man's strength failed, and the Indian succeeded in turning him.

Planting his knee on the breast of his enemy, and yelling loudly, as is usual with the barbarians upon any turn of fortune, he again felt for his knife, in order to terminate the struggle at once; but having lately stolen a woman's ap.r.o.n, and tied it around his waist, his knife was so much confined, that he had great difficulty in finding the handle.

Morgan, in the meantime, being an accomplished pugilist, and perfectly at home in a ground struggle, took advantage of the awkwardness of the Indian, and got one of the fingers of his right hand between his teeth.

The Indian tugged and roared in vain, struggling to extricate it. Morgan held him fast, and began to a.s.sist him in hunting for the knife. Each seized it at the same moment, the Indian by the blade, and Morgan by the handle, but with a very slight hold.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LAST SHOT.]

The Indian, having the firmest hold, began to draw the knife further out of its sheath, when Morgan, suddenly giving his finger a furious bite, twitched the knife dexterously through his hand, cutting it severely.

Both now sprung to their feet, Morgan brandishing his adversary's knife, and still holding his finger between his teeth. In vain the poor Indian struggled to get away, rearing, plunging, and bolting, like an unbroken colt. The teeth of the white man were like a vice, and he at length succeeded in giving his savage foe a stab in the side. The Indian received it without falling, the knife having struck his ribs; but a second blow, aimed at the stomach, proved more effectual, and the savage fell. Morgan thrust the knife, handle and all, into the body, directed it upward, and, starting to his feet, made the best of his way home.

FIRE ON THE PRAIRIES.

The following account of one of those fearfully sublime spectacles--a fire on the prairie--is from the "_Wild Western Scenes_" by J.B. Jones.

The hunters have been out and are overtaken by night, and are lost in the darkness.

Ere long, a change came over the scene. About two-thirds of the distance around the verge of the horizon a faint light appeared, resembling the scene when a dense curtain of clouds hangs overhead, and the rays of the morning sun steal under the edge of the thick vapor. But the stars could be seen, and the only appearance of clouds was immediately above the circle of light. In a very few minutes the terrible truth flashed upon the mind of Glenn. The dim light along the horizon was changed to an approaching flame. Columns of smoke could be seen rolling upward, while the fire beneath imparted a lurid glare to them. The wind blew more fiercely, and the fire approached from almost every quarter with the swiftness of a race-horse. The darkened vault above became gradually illuminated with a crimson reflection, and the young man shuddered with the horrid apprehension of being burnt alive! It was madness to proceed in a direction that must inevitably hasten their fate, the fire extending in one unbroken line from left to right, and in front of them, and they now turned in a course which seemed to place the greatest distance between them and the furious element. Ever and anon a frightened deer or elk leaped past, and the hounds no longer noticed them, but remained close to the horses. The flames came on with awful rapidity. The light increased in brilliance, and objects were distinguishable far over the prairie. A red glare could be seen on the sides of the deer as they bounded over the tall dry gra.s.s, which was soon to be no longer a refuge for them. The young man heard a low continued roar, that increased every moment in loudness, and, looking in the direction whence they supposed it proceeded, they observed an immense, dark, moving ma.s.s, the nature of which they could not divine, but it threatened to annihilate every thing that opposed it. While gazing at this additional source of danger, the horses, blinded by the surrounding light, plunged into a deep ditch that the rain had washed in the rich soil. Neither men nor horses, fortunately, were injured; and, after several ineffectual efforts to extricate themselves, they here resolved to await the coming of the fire. Ringwood and Jowler whined fearfully on the verge of the ditch for an instant, and then sprang in and crouched trembling at the feet of their master. The next instant the dark, thundering ma.s.s pa.s.sed overhead, being nothing less than an immense herd of buffaloes driven forward by the flames. The horses bowed their heads as if a thunderbolt were pa.s.sing. The fire and the heavens were hid from view, and the roar above resembled the rush of mighty waters. When the last animal had sprung over the chasm, Glenn thanked the propitious accident that thus providentially prevented him from being crushed to atoms, and uttered a prayer to Heaven that he might by a like means be rescued from the fiery ordeal that awaited him. It now occurred to him that the acc.u.mulation of weeds and gra.s.s in the chasm, which saved them from injury when falling in, would prove fatal when the flames arrived. And after groping some distance along the trench, he found the depth diminished, but the fire was not three hundred paces distant. His heart sank within him. But when on the eve of returning to his former position, with a resolution to remove as much of the combustible matter as possible, a gleam of joy spread over his features, as, casting a glance in a contrary direction from that they had recently pursued, he beheld the identical mound he had ascended before dark, and from which his unsteady and erratic riding in the night had fortunately prevented a distant separation. They now led their horses forth, and, mounting without delay, whipped forward for life or death. Could the summit of the mound be attained, they were in safety--for there the soil was not enc.u.mbered with decayed vegetation--and they spurred their animals to the top of their speed. It was a n.o.ble sight to see the majestic white steed flying toward the mound with the velocity of the wind, while the diminutive pony miraculously followed in the wake like an inseparable shadow. The careering flames were not far behind, and, when the horses gained the summit and Glenn looked back, the fire had reached the base!

Fortunately, that portion of the plain over which the scathing element had spent its fury, was the direction the party should pursue in retracing their way homeward.

The light, dry gra.s.s had been soon consumed, and the earth now wore a blackened appearance, and was as smooth as if vegetation had never covered the surface. As the party rode briskly along, (and the pony now kept in advance,) the horses' hoofs rattled as loudly on the baked ground as if it were a plank floor. The reflection of the fire in the distance still threw a lurid glare over the extended heath. As the smoke gradually ascended, objects could be discerned at a great distance, and occasionally a half-roasted deer or elk was seen plunging about, driven to madness by its tortures. And frequently they found the dead bodies of smaller animals that could find no safety in flight.