Ella Barnwell Part 8

"How lovely is nature in all her varieties!" exclaimed Ella, with animation, as she glanced over the scene.

"Ay, and in that variety lies her loveliness," answered Algernon.

"It is the constant and eternal change going forward that interests us, and gives to nature her undying charm. Man--high-souled, contemplative man--was not born to sameness. Variety is to his mind what food is to his body; and as the latter, deprived of its usual nourishment, sinks to decay--so the former, from like deprivation of its strengthening power, becomes weak and imbecile. Again: as coa.r.s.e, plain food and hardy exercise add health and vigor to the physical--so does the contemplation of nature in her wildness and grandeur give to the mental a powerful and lofty tone. Of all writers for poetical and vigorous intellects, give me those who have been reared among cloud-capped hills, and craggy steeps, and rushing streams, and roaring cataracts; for their conceptions are grand, their comparisons beautiful, and the founts from which they draw, as exhaustless almost as nature herself."

"I have often thought the same myself," returned Ella; "for I never gaze upon a beautiful scene in nature, that I do not feel refreshed. To me the two most delightful are morning and evening. I love to stand upon some eminence, and mark, as now, the first gray, crimson and golden streaks that rush up in the eastern sky; and catch the first rays of old Sol, as he, surrounded by a reddened halo, shows his welcome face above the hills; or at calm eve watch his departure, as with a last, fond, lingering look he takes his leave, as 'twere in sorrow that he could not longer tarry; while earth, not thus to be outdone in point of grief, puts on her sable dress to mourn his absence."

"Ah! Ella," said Algernon, turning to her with a gentle smile, "methinks morning and evening are somewhat indebted to you for a touch of poetry in their behalf."

"Rather say I am indebted to them for a thousand fine feelings I have not even power to express," rejoined Ella.

Algernon was on the point of returning an answer, when, casting his eyes down into the ravine, he slightly started, his gaze became fixed, and his features grew a shade more pale. Ella noticed this sudden change, and in a voice slightly tremulous inquired the cause. For nearly a minute Algernon made no reply, but kept his eyes steadily bent in the same direction, apparently riveted on some object below. Ella also looked down; but seeing nothing worthy of note, and growing somewhat alarmed at his silence, was on the point of addressing him again, when, slightly turning his head, and rubbing his eyes with his hand, he said:

"Methought I saw a dark object move in the hollow below; but I think I must have been mistaken, for all appears quiet there now--not even a limb or so much as a leaf stirs. Lest there should be danger, however, dear Ella, I will ride down first and ascertain. If I give an alarm, turn your horse and do not spare him till you reach Wilson's."

"No, no, no!" exclaimed Ella, with vehemence, laying her hand upon his arm, as he was about starting forward, her own features now growing very pale. "If you go, Algernon, you go not alone! If there is danger, I will share it with you."

Algernon turned towards her a face that, one moment crimsoned with animation and the next became deadly pale; while his whole frame quivered with intense emotion, and he seemed vainly struggling to command contending feelings. Suddenly clasping her hand in his, he pressed it warmly, raised it to his lips, and in a trembling tone said:

"Ella--dear Ella--G.o.d bless you! If ever--but--no--no--no;" and covering his face with his hands, he wept convulsively; while she, no less deeply affected, could scarcely sit her horse.

At length Algernon withdrew his hands, and exhibited features pale but calm. Drawing forth his pistols, he carefully examined their priming, and then replaced them in his belt. During this proceeding, he failed not to urge Ella to alter her design and remain, while he went forward; but finding her determined on keeping him company, he signified his readiness to proceed, and both started slowly down the hill together.

They reached the ravine in safety, and advanced some twenty yards further, when suddenly there arose a terrific Indian yell, followed instantly by the sharp report of several fire-arms, a wild, piercing shriek, some two or three heavy groans, a rustling among the trees, and then by a stillness as deep and awfully solemn as that which pervades the narrow house appointed for all living.

CHAPTER VII.

THE OLD WOODSMAN AND HIS DOG.

The sun was perhaps an hour above the mountain tops, when a solitary hunter, in the direction of the cane-brake, might have been seen shaping his course toward the hill whereon Algernon and Ella had so lately paused to contemplate the dawning day. Upon his shoulder rested a long rifle, and a dog of the Newfoundland species followed in his steps or trotted along by his side. In a few minutes he reached the place referred to; when the snuffling of his canine companion causing him to look down, his attention instantly became fixed upon the foot-prints of the horses which had pa.s.sed there the day before, and particularly on the two that had repa.s.sed there so lately.

"What is it, Caesar?" said he, addressing the brute. "Nothing wrong here, I reckon." Caesar, as if conscious of his master's language, raised his head, and looking down into the ravine, appeared to snuff the air; then darting forward, he was quickly lost among the branching cedars.

Scarcely thirty seconds elapsed, ere a long, low howl came up from the valley; and starting like one suddenly surprised by some disagreeable occurrence, the hunter, with a cheek slightly blanched, hurried down the crooked path, muttering as he went, "Thar's something wrong, for sartin--for Caesar never lies."

In less than a minute the hunter came in sight of his dog, which he found standing with his hind feet on the ground and his fore-paws resting on the carca.s.s of a horse, that had apparently been dead but a short time. As Caesar perceived his master approach, he uttered another of those peculiar, long, low, mournful howls, which the superst.i.tious not unfrequently interpret as omens of evil.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the hunter, as he came up; "thar's been foul play here, Caesar--foul play, for sartin. D'ye think, dog, it war Indians as done it?"

The brute looked up into the speaker's face, with one of those expressions of intelligence or sagacity, which seem to speak what the tongue has not power to utter, and then wagging his tail, gave a sharp, fierce bark.

"Right, dog!" continued the other, as, stooping to the ground, he began to examine with great care the prints left there by human feet. "Right, dog, they're the rale varmints, and no mistake. Ef all folks war as sensible and knowing as you, thar would'nt be many fools about, I reckon."

Having finished his examination of the ground, the hunter again turned to look at the carca.s.s of the horse, which was lying on its left side, some two feet from the path, and had apparently fallen dead from a shot in the forehead, between the eyes. An old saddle, devoid of straps, lay just concealed under the branching cedars. The ground around was trodden as if from a scuffle, and the limbs of the trees were broken in many places--while in two or three others could be seen spots of blood, not even yet dry--none of which informants of the recent struggle escaped the keen observation of the woodsman. Suddenly the dog, which had been watching his master's motions intently, put his nose to the ground, darted along the path further into the ravine, and presently resounded another of those mournful howls.

"Ha! another diskivery!" exclaimed the hunter, as he started after his companion.

About thirty yards further on, he came upon the carca.s.s of another horse, which had been killed by a ball in the right side, and the blow of some weapon, probably a tomahawk, on the head. By its side also lay a lady's saddle, stripped like the former of its trappings. This the woodsman now proceeded to examine attentively, for something like a minute, during which time a troubled expression rested on his dark, sunburnt features.

"I'm either mightily mistaken," said he at length, with a grave look, "or that thar horse and saddle is the property of Ben Younker; and I reckon it's the same critter as is rid by Ella Barnwell. Heaven forbid, sweet lady, that it be thou as met with this terrible misfortune!--but ef it be, by the Power that made me, I swar to follow on thy trail; and ef I meet any of thy captors, then, Betsey, I'll just call on you for a backwoods sentiment."

As he concluded, the hunter turned with a look of affection towards his rifle, which he firmly grasped with a nervous motion. At this moment, the dog, which had been busying himself by running to and fro with his nose to the ground, suddenly paused, and laying back his ears, uttered a low, fierce growl. The hunter cast toward him a quick glance; and dropping upon his knees, applied his ear to the earth, where he remained some fifteen seconds; then rising to his feet, he made a motion with his hand, and together with Caesar withdrew into the thicket.

For some time no sound was heard to justify this precaution of the woodsman; but at length a slight jarring of the ground became apparent, followed by a noise at some distance, resembling the clatter of horses'

feet, which, gradually growing louder as the cause drew nearer, soon became sufficiently so to put all doubts on the matter at rest. In less than five minutes from the disappearance of the hunter, some eight or ten horses, bearing as many riders, approached the hill from the direction of Wilson's, and began to descend into the ravine. The party, composed of both s.e.xes, were in high glee--some jesting, some singing, and some laughing uproariously. Nothing occurred to interrupt their merriment, until they began to lose themselves among the cedars of the hollow, when the foremost horse suddenly gave a snort and bounded to one side--a movement which his companion, close behind, imitated--while the rider of the latter, a female, uttered a loud, piercing scream of fright. In a moment the whole party was in confusion--some turning their horses to the right about and riding back towards Wilson's, at headlong speed--and some pausing in fear, undecided what to do. The two foremost horses now became very refractory, rearing and plunging in a manner that threatened to unseat their riders every moment. Of the two, the one ridden by the lady was the most ungovernable; and in spite of her efforts to quiet or hold him, he seized the bit in his teeth, and, rearing on his hind legs, plunged madly forward, until he came to where the other carca.s.s was lying, when, giving another snort of fear, he again reared, and turning aside into the thicket, left his rider almost senseless in the path he had just quitted. Fortunately the beast shaped his course to where the hunter was concealed, who, with a sudden spring, as he was rushing past, seized upon the bridle near the bit, and succeeded, after a struggle, in mastering and leading him back to the path.

By this time the companion of the lady had come up; and seeing her condition, was dismounting to render her a.s.sistance; when his eye falling upon the stranger, he started, and placed his hand quickly to his belt, as if in search of some weapon of defence. The hunter saw the movement, and said, with a gesture of command:

"Hold! young man; don't do any thing rash!"

"Who are you, sir?"

"A friend."

"Your name!" continued the other, as he sprang to the ground.

"Names don't matter, stranger, in cases sech as this. I said I war a friend."

"By what may I know you as such."

"My deeds," returned the other, laconically. "Think you, stranger, ef I wanted to harm ye, I couldn't have done it without you seeing me?" and as he spoke, he glanced significantly toward his rifle.

"True," returned the other; "but what's the meaning of this?" and he pointed toward the dead horse.

"It means Indians, as nigh as I can come at it," replied the hunter.

"But look to the living afore the dead!" And the woodsman in turn pointed toward the lady.

"Right!" said the other; and springing to her side, he raised her in his arms.

She was not injured, other than slightly stunned by the fall, and she quickly regained her senses. At first she was somewhat alarmed; but perceiving who supported her, and nothing in the mild, n.o.ble, benevolent countenance of the stranger, who was still holding her horse by the bridle, of a sinister nature, she anxiously inquired what had happened.

"I can only guess by what I see;" answered the hunter, "that some o'

your company have been less fortunate than you. Didn't two o' them set out in advance?"

"Gracious heavens!" cried the young man supporting the lady; "it is Ella Barnwell and the stranger Reynolds!"

"Then they must be quickly trailed!" rejoined the hunter briefly. "Go, young man, take your lady back agin, and raise an armed party for pursuit. Be quick in your operations, and I'll wait and join you here.

Leave your horses thar, for we must take it afoot; and besides, gather as much provision as you can all easily carry, for Heaven only knows whar or when our journey'll end."

"But do you think they're still living?"

"I hope so."

"Then let us return, Henry," said the lady, "as quick as possible, so that a party for pursuit may be collected before the wedding guests have all separated."

"I fear it will be difficult, Mary, but we must try it," replied the young man, as he a.s.sisted her to mount. Then, turning to the stranger, he added: "But won't you accompany us, sir?"