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With British and braves; story of the war of 1812

L. K. Parks · 1898 · Scanned text · Free in the US

81,511 words · about 5 h 42 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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Free in the US: this text is in the public domain in the United States; it may still be in copyright elsewhere.

Licence: PD · Library of Congress states the book is in the public domain and free to use and reuse (https://data.labs.loc.gov/digitized-books/README.html); published 1898, public domain asserted for the US only · Library of Congress, Selected Digitized Books (https://www.loc.gov/item/07034974); text via the Common Pile (CC BY 4.0 compilation, per-document rights preserved)

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About this book

Author
L. K. Parks
Language
English
Published
1898
Length
81,511 words · about 5 h 42 min
Sections
17 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (17)
  1. Preface about 3 min
  2. Chapter I about 38 min
  3. Chapter II about 18 min
  4. Chapter III about 17 min
  5. Chapter IV about 13 min
  6. Chapter V about 20 min
  7. Chapter VI about 11 min
  8. III about 11 min
  9. Chapter VII about 31 min
  10. Chapter VIII about 28 min
  11. Chapter IX about 21 min
  12. Chapter X about 15 min
  13. Chapter XI about 8 min
  14. Chapter XII about 29 min
  15. Chapter XIII about 21 min
  16. Chapter XIV about 27 min
  17. Chapter XV about 32 min

Continue:

Preface

Miscellaneous reading with a busy people like our own is often simply mental recreation. This demands works of sufficient interest to exclude all thoughts of the cares of life. Unfortunately, it is only at rare intervals that a genius has arisen gifted with such a charm of manner and grace of diction as to make the abstract details of history sufficiently fascinating to meet this requirement; hence we turn to fiction, because, while unreal, it seems more real.

It is a curious fact that we often weep over the suffering and death of imaginary, but rarely of historical characters. We shed tears over the death of “Little Nell,” the sufferings of “Uncle Tom;” but not over the death of brave General McPherson, or the terrible torture of Colonel Crawford. The former not only appear more real, but they seem to be acquaintances and friends, while the latter are simply officers, in whom we have no personal interest. Besides, history is too often a bare recital of certain important events, which give us no real picture of the period. It has been truthfully said, that to get a good conception of the reign of J^mes the First, one should read “The Fortunes of Nigel,” as well as Hume’s History.

I am not alone in the opinion that historical truths can best be taught by a judicious union of history and fiction, provided the truths of history are not distorted so as to conform to the exigencies of the’ story. Un- 3

Preface less I am greatly in error, many of our well-informed, and even educated people, have little knowledge of the War of 1812, especially of those important events which took place in the Northwest, and which have had a potent influence upon our national destiny. Yet there is no period of our history more replete with intrinsic interest, combining at once all the heroism, chivalry, and gallantry of the marvelous tales of the borderer with the great and glorious achievements that have made America what it is to-day.

Suppose, in addition to this intrinsic interest, you had a real or imaginary friend, who had been a participant in these events; one who fought British and Indians beneath the great oaks at Maguaga; who, after Hull’s inglorious surrender, escaped, under cover of darkness, fog, and mist, down the deep and rapid river; who was in the terrible conflict at Frenchtown; who, with a few comrades disguised as painted savsages, fled through the snow of a trackless forest; who, by his heroic courage, saved the day at Fort Meigs; who was with the gallant Croghan at Fort Stephenson, and with Commodore Perry at Put-in- Bay; who encountered savage men and wild beasts in the woods; who struggled with Split-Log and the great Tecumseh; who risked his life to rescue the girl he loved from^ her savage captors. If with such a friend, or friends, you could visit these scenes, and see not only these events as they actually occurred, but other scenes of that period, which would give you a clear conception of the time, — how much greater would be your interest and the benefit you would derive!

Preface

This has been my object in writing out the story told by Colonel Northcott. In company with his imaginary friends, he not only sees the battles and conflicts of history, but becomes interested in their experiences, both in love and war. How well the writer has succeeded, he must leave to the judgment of the charitable and kindly reader; but he believes that this narrative can not fail to be both interesting and instructive, for the picture which he has attempted to reproduce is of itself so fascinating and instructive that it can not fail to be both beneficial and attractive, even if the work of the artist is defective. Of the important events of this period, no self-respecting and intelligent American should remain in ignorance.

I perhaps ought to say, before closing, that I have found a greater conflict of authority in regard to many of the details pertaining to events which I have described than one would naturally expect in reference to a time so little removed from the present. There is, however, but little dispute in regard to the main and most important features of that struggle, and I have assiduously endeavored to be accurate in the relation of historical facts, and have been to no little pains to verify, as far as possible, that part of my narrative which is legendary; and wherever I have felt doubtful lest the reader might confound imaginary with real events, I have added explanatory notes, in order that this narrative might nowhere be misleading.

L. K. p.

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Chapter I

A Party at Hotel Victory — Colonel Northcott, the Storyteller — Then and Now — The Gathering at John Wright’s — The News of the Battle of Tippecanoe —

The Circle Hunt — Struggle with the Bear — A Bitter Quarrel — A Frontier Supper — Miss Mixture, a Dangerous Compound _______ 13

CHAPTER H

Declaration of War — Conflicting Opinions and Divided Sentiments — Dieutenant Dinsmore — A Digression in which the Colonel moralizes — Hull’s March to Detroit — Invasion of Canada — Fatal Delays — Retreat — Battle of Maguaga — Desperate Duel in the Woods — Dinsmore and Hastings wounded — Indian Courage — Hull Ignominiously Surrenders — Bitter Feeling among Officers and Men — Dinsmore and Hentzler escape - -- -- 41

CHAPTER HI

Hentzler and his Mother — Ruth and Henry Wright visit Dinsmore — John Wright and his Wife talk of the War — Mrs. Wright’s Motherly Feelings — She decides to let Henry become an Indian Scout, and Ruth a Nurse — The Effect of Hull’s Surrender — British and Indians driven from Fort Wayne — Indian Villages destroyed — Fort Defiance taken — Heroic Defense of Fort Harrison -

CHAPTER IV

Ruth goes to Cleveland as a Nurse — A True Woman in the Sick-room — Henry and Charlotte Wright — Henry leaves Home to become an Indian Scout — His Father’s Parting Advice — Henry arrives at Fort Stephenson — General Tupper’s Attack upon the Rapids of Maumee — The Military Skill and Bravery of the Indian Chief Split-Log — Tupper retreats for Lack of Provisions — Winchester ordered to Maumee — Dinsmore’s Parting from Ruth _ _ _ - - 72

CHAPTER V

Dinsmore and Wright join Winchester’s Army as Scouts — Colonel Lewis marches to Frenchtown — A Bitter Conflict — Americans Victorious — Winchester re-enforces Colonel Lewis — The Unheeded Warning — An Early Morning Attack — Dreadful Slaughter — Americans Surrender — The Fearful Disguise of the Scouts — They Escape — Massacre of Prisoners — Dreadful Sights and Scenes — Results — March through the Woods — Dinsmore tenders his Services to General Harrison 84

CHAPTER VI

Captain Dinsmore visits Cleveland — His Bitter Disappointment — Miss Mixture’s Deceit — A Cleveland Hotel in the First of the Century — Dinsmore loses Faith in Womankind — Ruth and Miss Mixture — Two Sad Hearts — Henry Wright visits his Home and sees Charlotte — Charlotte’s Terrible Dream — Dinsmore returns to Kentucky — His Mother and Sister - - 102

CHAPTER VH

Fort Meigs — General Harrison goes to Cincinnati — Colonel Leftwick’s Incompetency — The Scout surrounded by Wolves — General Proctor’s Army lands at Fort Miami — Narrow Escape from the Indians —

A Dreadful Storm — Visit from a Panther — Siege of Fort Meigs — Midnight News — Cause of Mysterious Bullets discovered — Colonel Dudley destroys Proctor’s Batteries — Disobedience of Orders — Colonel Dudley defeated and slain. Tecumseh’s Humanity — Colonel Clay’s Attack upon the Indians — Johnson Dinsmore’s Heroic Ride — Painted Savages — Split- Dog’s Shot — Dinsmore Severely Wounded — ^Americans Victorious — Proctor’s Retreat ----- 120

CHAPTER VHI

Ruth arrives at Fort Meigs — A Base Wretch justly punished — Hettiebelle Dinsmore finds her Wounded Brother — A Mystery explained — Ruth Wright and Captain Dinsmore again meet — Dove, Honor, and Courage triumph over Deception and Deceit — The Howling of the Wolves — Bad Omen - - - - 146

CHAPTER IX

Proctor and Tecumseh again determine to attack Fort Meigs — Tecumseh’s Shrewd Stratagem — Henry Wright’s Skill and Courage, and General Clay’s Firmness, save the Fort — Ruth Wright and Hettiebelle Dinsmore Alike and yet Unlike — Hettiebelle’s Interest in Henry Wright — Proctor and Tecumseh Retreat — Fort Stephenson - - - - - -170

CHAPTER X

The Scouts and Militiamen at Catawba Island — Indians hunting Deer — The British Fleet discovered — The British land at Fort Stephenson — The Glorious Defense of Fort Stephenson — Proctor’s Ignominious Flight — Ruth Wright, Captain and Hettiebelle Dinsmore arrive at Fort Stephenson — The Wounded Canadian Officer — A Ride through the Woods — General Harrison and Commodore Perry determine to risk a Naval Engagement - - - - - - -188 lO

CHAPTER XI

Naval Supremecy of England — An Ingenious and Successful Method of floating Ships over a Sandbar — Ruth Wright and Captain Dinsmore at the Home of John Wright — A Little Love — A Short Chapter - - - 202

CHAPTER XII

A Frontier Settlement after an Indian Raid — Charlotte Wright and Captain Dinsmore seized by the Indians — The Scout, Peter Navarre — The Pursuit — Arrangements for meeting upon the Peninsula — Henry Wright swims the Sandusky River in pursuit of the Savages — Savages arrive with their Prisoners at what is now called Lakeside — Jim Jenks, the Deserter — Lieutenant Hastings — The Two Chiefs, Ogontz and Big Cat — The Interview at the Camp-fire — A Dreadful Alternative — Henry Wright makes his Presence known — Hastings and Charlotte _ _ _ _ 209

CHAPTER XHI

The Indian Council — Big Cat advises Torture and War —

The Persuasive Eloquence of the Great Chief Ogontz — Whisky and Jealousy produce a Tragedy — The Indian Council unexpectedly broken up — The Trial of Ogontz — He is acquitted — The Prisoners escape — An Exciting Race — The Mysterious Disappearance — Henry and Charlotte Wright and Captain Dinsmore again become Indian Captives - - _ _ - 234

CHAPTER XIV

September 10, 1813— Enemy in Sight— The Scene before the Battle — The Fleets slowly approach Each Other — Awful Slaughter upon the Flagship Lawrence — Perry transferred to the Brig Niagara— The Wind changes—

The Enemy’s Line broken— Dreadful Broadsides— Apparent Defeat turned into Complete American Vic-

II tory — The Entire Nation Wild with Joy — A Dash for Liberty — A Cavern — Savage Preparations for Dinsmore’s Torture — Love and Courage wins Another Victory — Dinsmore saved — Hastings and Henry Wright wounded — The Indians Flee - _ _ _ _ 252

CHAPTER XV

After the Battle — A Discovery — The Deserter Jenks is captured — The Solemn and Impressive Burial of the Dead Officers — Five Thousand Men assemble at Put-in- Bay — Tecumseh’s Speech to Proctor — Harrison invades Canada — Complete American Victory at the River Thames — Proctor flees — The Brave Tecumseh Slain — Terrible Suspense — Ruth, Hettiebelle, and Charlotte’s Parents go to Put-in-Bay — Lieutenant Hastings makes to Charlotte a Declaration of Love —

A Happy Solution — Courage wins in Love as well as War — Jenks meets a Fate which he richly deserves — Miss Mixture, the Deceiver, deceived — A Happy Triple Wedding — Farewell 275

Illustrations

PAGE

The Indian Council Frontispiece

Farmer John Wright and his Wife - - - 6o

Gen. Wieeiam H. Harrison 8i

The Scouts Surprised by a Panther - - _ 129

’Major George Croghan ------ 193

Ruth Wright and Lieut. Dinsmore - - - - 204

Commodore Oeiver H. Perry 256

Tecumseh 280

Chapter I

It was a delightful August evening in the year 1897. Scattered here and there in groups, or promenading along the grand veranda that fronts Hotel Victory, at Put-in-Bay, were some three or four hundred guests. Most of the young people were in full evening dress, and among them were a number of naval cadets belonging to the Ohio Reserve. The young ladies were all on the qui vive; for the young and aristocratic Clevelanders were an exceptionally fine-looking body of men in their naval uniforms — white as snow, except the big brass buttons and black band and gilt anchor on their natty caps.

Near the middle of the veranda, and apparently noticing no one, sat a gentleman, slowly smoking a fragrant cigar. A young lady from St. Louis, leaning on the arm of a naval officer, in passing remarked to her escort : ‘T wonder who that elderly gentleman is ; he has such a distinguished look.^^

“That is Colonel Northcott,” replied the young officer. “He is, I believe, a Southerner by birth. He is a model gentleman of the 'old-school,’ which, I am sorry to say, is fast disappearing. We Americans, by our constant travel have acquired — I might almost say we ape — a certain off-hand frankness and heartiness of manner in our intercourse with strangers, which, at times, is refreshing and in pleasing contrast to the stately formality of the Europeans, and especially the English. 13

Yet our frankness often descends, I fear, to freshness or impudence, and our heartiness to rudeness. For my part, there is a charm about some of those elegant, stately gentlemen of the ‘old-school’ that I very much admire. I understand his father was not only an officer in the War of 1812, but was at the battle of Lake Erie, or Perry’s Victory. He has spent most of his summers from boyhood along the shore of Lake Erie, and is said to know more about the Indians, their habits and characteristics, and the real facts connected with the battles fought in the Northwest during the War of 1812, than almost any other man now living.”

Soon afterwards, a gentleman from Cincinnati noticed the colonel, and recognizing in him an old acquaintance, extended his hand, and said :

“How do you do. Colonel. I am very glad to see you. You have not been here before this season, have you?”

“No,” replied the colonel. “The last time I was here was upon the occasion of the Inter-Lake Yacht Regatta Party. On that occasion, one of the Canadian yachtclubs won an elegant silver loving-cup, and when the cup was presented to the commander of the successful Canadian boat, the gentleman making the presentation spoke of the fact that this hotel was named in honor of the great naval victory which took place in sight of this house, and then he expressed the hope that all contests in the future between the United States and her Canadian cousins would be like the present one — a contest of friendly rivalry, ending, not in blood, but in social friendship.

“To-night there are a hundred fine-looking naval cadets here with all the insignia of war, and the girls seem to be more attracted by the cadets than they were by the yacht men. War seems yet to charm more than peace.

“As I have been looking into this enchanting forest park, lighted by electricity and beautified by an electric fountain, my mind has been running back over the past. Young men, guided by hope and spurred on by expectation, love to look with longing eyes into the future; but men who, like myself, have reached nearly fourscore years, live in the past, so rich and full of great events. Only eighty-four years since, at the time of the battle on Lake Erie, this vast country, which we so proudly call our own, was for the most part a wilderness inhabited by savage beasts and wild men, untutored except by the Great Spirit, the God of nature. Chicago, that great city of wealth and poverty, glory and infamy, charity and corruption, public spirit and anarchy, was yet unborn. Where sky-piercing blocks now greet the sight, the red man danced around his camp-fires, and instead of the rattle of machinery, the whistle of engines, and the tramp of thousands of busy feet, was heard the plaintive cry of the loon, the dismal howl of the wolf, and the wild scream of the panther. Cleveland was a little log-hut hamlet; Detroit, an insignificant French village; Toledo was still for years to come to be the camping-ground of the Indians, and the home of the muskrat and forest wolf.

“As a boy I have seen the Indian camp-fires redden the shores of this lake, and often heard, in the dark and tangled forests between Sandusky Bay and the Maumee River, the howl of wolves and the cry of the panther. Look through the trees between here and the lake, run your eye along the walk which leads to that rustic bridge, illuminated by so many electric lights, and then let your eye run around under the branches of the trees, and you see the hollow or depression before us is a natural amphitheater. There, eighty-four years since, the Ottawas kindled for the last time, on the shores of this lake, the fires of torture around the limbs of a white man, and there took place an event in one of the prettiest romances of the War of 1812, which, while cruel and bloody, assuaged the feeling of hostile bitterness, and showed that war, as well as peace, can develop and bring forth the highest and noblest attributes of the soul.’^

“Colonel,’’ replied, or rather interrupted the Cincinnatian, “I wish you would tell us about the War of 1812. Tell us the story which you have just mentioned.”

Several, who were listening to the colonel’s remarks, joined in a chorus of voices requesting the story. After some little parleying (for story-tellers, as well as musicians, often like to be coaxed), it was agreed that the next afternoon the colonel should begin his story of the War of 1812 in the Northwest. This he accordingly did, continuing it from day to day as he had opportunity, and his hearers were able to come together on the veranda to listen to it. There was a goodly group of listeners, young, old, and middle-aged, daily assembled, and they listened with intense interest as he told the story of the war, as follows :

In the: ye:ar 1812 there lived in Cuyahoga County, not far from where now stands the city of Cleveland, two sturdy New England brothers, named John and Charles Wright. They were among the first settlers in Cuyahoga County outside of Cleveland. In fact, they had built their log houses in the forest on the banks of the Cuyahoga River, in the year 1799, or only three years after the first settlement in Cleveland.

It was the 6th of December. Though not very cold, the ground was just whitened by a thin covering of snow which had fallen during the day. It had been determined some time previous to have a circle hunt on the day following, and word had been sent through the settlements for many miles around, and also to the village of Cleveland, to that effect. The different townships having selected their captains, they met for final arrangements at the home of John Wright.

John Wright’s family consisted, besides himself and wife, of two children — an unusually small family for those times. Henry was about twenty-one, a big, strong, good-natured fellow, but with “lots of grit,” as the boys said. He was known as being the best shot, the fastest runner, and strongest swimmer in the settlement. He was, in many respects, a typical frontiersman; tall and spare, weighing about one hundred and sixty pounds, but without any surplus flesh.

all bone and muscle; one of those characters that needed some excitement or great incentive fully to draw out the latent powers of body and mind. He had large eyes that ordinarily seemed a sort of dreamy blue, but when excited were a piercing gray.

Ruth was about eighteen, a sweet, shy girl, with large dark-blue eyes, always the first to be called upon when any one was hurt or sick. She liked to roam over the fields and through the forests with her brother, and she often said to her mother (and more often to herself), “If I were a boy I would be a hunter or an Indian fighter.”

Besides the captains of the hunt, some of the neighbors had dropped in to talk over the next day’s sport, and exchange ideas in regards to the stormy events of the time. The question of war with England was the all-absorbing topic ; for, added to the usual interest that we all take in war — ^which may not only cause the weal or woe of our country, but our families and our friends — at this time on the Western frontier, a war with England would be a signal for an Indian outbreak, with all its attendant horrors.

There were also present Mrs. Charles Wright and her daughter Charlotte. Charlotte was about Ruth’s age.

The shades of evening were beginning to fall; a few flakes of light snow were dropping slowly to the already whitened earth. John Wright and his visitors were seated by the great open fireplace, upon which a big log had just been thrown, making a bright, cheerful flame, with hundreds of sparks flying up into the mouth of the great chimney.

“Well, Mr. A.,” said John Wright, addressing one of his visitors, “what news did you hear in Cleveland yesterday?”

“Nothing special,” was the reply. “The mail from the East has not come in this week. It has been delayed on account of bad and heavy roads. Nor has anything been heard from General Harrison. People are beginning to fear that Tecumseh and his brother, ‘the Prophet,’ have succeeded in getting Harrison into a trap. I tell you, if Harrison falls into the hands of that old fox, Tecumseh, there will not be a man left to tell the tale, and we will see dreadful times in Ohio. The redskins may not come as far east as this, but I tell you, John, that if Harrison is defeated, many a poor fellow’s scalp will be hung up in their tents this winter. I shudder when I think of the poor women and children that will suffer in captivity worse than death if, added to Harrison’s defeat, the company of infidel French sympathizers get our country into a war with Great Britain.”

“Yes,” replied John, “the last we heard from Harrison was over a month ago. He was at Tippecanoe, and was every day expecting to fight with Tecumseh; but that crafty chief was pretending he did not want to fight. I tell you, Tecumseh is the smartest Indian that ever wore a red skin, and I begin to worry about Harrison. It seems to me it is time that we heard something from him and his men. Sometimes I am afraid that Harrison is not quite a match for Tecumseh, who is as brave as Harrison himself. But there comes my son Henry. I wonder who that is with him.”

Just then there appeared, riding into the clearing that surrounded the house, two young men — one was Henry Wright, the other a stranger. The stranger rode his horse as though he were one of the fabled centaurs, a part of the horse itself. As he jumped lightly to the ground, with a sort of military air, both of the girls excitedly asked, “Who can he be?” In the settlements, before the war, to see a stranger, and especially a fine-looking young man in uniform, was an unusual occurrence. The young men led their horses into the log barn, and then bent their way towards the house. Mr. Wright opened the door to greet his son and the stranger. “Father,” said Henry, “this is Sergeant Dinsmore. He has just come from Tippecanoe.” This statement brought every one to the door, eager to learn the fate of Harrison and his men.

After a general introduction and a hearty welcome, it was very soon learned that General Harrison, on the 7th of November, met the large Indian force under command of the great warrior, Tecumseh, and, after a severe conflict, had gained a complete victory, and Sergeant Dinsmore had been sent to Cleveland with dispatches to inform the Government. He was going to remain in Cleveland for a few days, and then proceed to his home in Kentucky. He accidentally met Henry, and learning of the proposed hunt, he had expressed a desire to take part in it. With the unreserved hospitality of that day, Henry had immediately invited Dinsmore to go home with him that night, so as to be ready for the hunt early the next morning.

During the evening, Dinsmore, at the request of his host, recounted the incidents and results in detail of the battle of Tippecanoe, and described his long journey through the dense and almost unbroken forest between Tippecanoe and Cleveland ; how at night he often heard the wolves howling in the woods around him; how one day the Indians followed him for over twenty miles, and then, realizing that he was aware of their chase, they gave it up. For while the Indian is accustomed to the woods, and has considerable endurance, and is very fleet for a short race, yet for a long, stern chase, it is useless for him to try to overtake a white hunter or soldier. Charlotte occasionally, along with the others, asked questions concerning the matters Dinsmore was describing. Ruth was a silent listener, much of the time, with her eyes upon the floor. When she did raise them and look at Dinsmore, it was only for a moment.

Finally, the neighbors and hunters departed, and soon afterwards Mr. Wright said:

^‘The hunters will begin to assemble early, and we must be ready to start at daylight.”

Mr. Wright then read a chapter from the Holy Scriptures, and offered up a fervent prayer for the welfare of his country, his guests, and his family. Then all retired.

Ruth and Charlotte slept together. Hardly had Charlotte reached the bed before she fell asleep; not so with Ruth. She had often read of brave soldiers. She had dreamed of plumed knights and heroes; but she had never before seen a soldier, and now, in the same house, sleeping under the same roof, was not only a real soldier, but a hero — one who, with Harrison, had helped, by his bravery and might, to defeat the most dreaded chief in all the land. He, defended only by his own watchfulness and strength, had traversed miles and miles of trackless forest, surrounded by wild beasts and wild men. Besides, while not exactly handsome, Dinsmore was a manly man. Young girls often dote upon pretty men — men with curly locks, exquisite mustaches, rosy cheeks, and soft white hands; but they love stalwart, forcible, masculine men. It is no wonder, then, that Ruth dreamed that night, and many of her dreams were while she was only partially asleep.

The next morning, before daybreak, a breakfast of baked potatoes, milk-rising bread, salt pork, milk, weak coffee, and pancakes sweetened with real maple syrup, was hastily eaten; as before breakfast was ready the neighbors began to assemble, Ruth having, as she said, overslept — she did not say she had overdreamed.

The hunting party consisted of some sixty, of whom about one-half assembled at John Wright’s; the other half, according to previous arrangement, meeting at a place about four miles distant. Quite a number of those who met at Wright’s were from Cleveland, and among them was a young Canadian by the name of Frank Hastings. He, like Dinsmore, had been in Cleveland on business, and, hearing of the hunt, had expressed a desire to join the party, and had been, as was the custom in those days, invited to “go along.” He was greeted cordially even by those who would, aside, remark to their friends and acquaintances :

“What is that Canadian doing here? I wonder if he is trying to learn how well we can shoot.”

Just as the party were ready to start, Mrs. Wright, Ruth, and Charlotte came to the door and wished the hunters good luck and safe return, when, to the surprise of Mrs. Wright and Ruth, Hastings stepped up to Charlotte, and they greeted each other with the cordiality of old and warm friends. Henry noticed this cordial greeting, and for some reason — he could not say why — it vexed him. He remarked to one of his acquaintances : “That Canadian is a forward fellow. He may be all right, but for my part I would rather these Canadians would keep on their side of the water just now.”

It had been decided to surround a large piece of land very thickly overgrown with tall grasses, bushes, and branching trees. This piece of land was the favorite resort of wild animals. It was irregular in shape, about a mile and one half long, and about half as wide. According to the previously-arranged plan, the two hunting parties started in the woods about three miles apart, and then slowly moved towards each other, those on the ends of each advancing line going at first much faster than those in the center, so that soon a complete circle was formed. Each party had a captain and two lieutenants, the captain being in the center, and the lieutenants at either extremity of the line. The six officers, besides their guns, carried horns, by means of which they gave their brief commands. As soon as the ends of the lines met, and the circle was complete, the signal was passed around to “close in.” Many of the party, especially the large boys, had with them dogs, but they were all kept securely in hand. No sooner was the order given to “close in” than the whole party, keeping up a continual shouting, kept pressing in towards the center, driving before them all the game. When the circle had been contracted until it was less than a mile in circumference, the senior captain blew upon a conchshell a loud blast, that could be heard by every one. The hunters then selected stations where the woods were the clearest from underbrush and their sight the least obstructed. These stations were from four to five rods apart, and the cry went around the whole circle, “Here I am, fire towards the center.”

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