"My first object was to seize the wrist of the hand which held his hunting knife. I had no time to draw my own, and my only hope was to deprive my enemy of his weapon. In an instant we closed and grappled furiously. I kept firm hold of his wrist, however, well knowing that this was my safety. After a short struggle we rolled on the ground together, and the Indian's hand coming in contact with something hard, he dropped the fatal knife. We were now upon more equal terms, but still there were many chances against me. My foe was a tall, brawny, muscular man, a hardy son of the woods, and, like myself, now fighting for his life. Never shall I forget that moment. In the midst of that terrible struggle, when I was putting forth all my strength and concentrating every effort in order to gain the mastery, the pleasant meadows of dear old England came up in a vision, as it were, before my eyes, and familiar home scenes flashed like lightning across my sight. I redoubled my efforts, but the savage had succeeded in grasping my throat with one of his hands, and it was with the greatest difficulty I could draw my breath. My eyes seemed to grow dull and heavy, there was the roar of ten thousand surges in my ears, my temples throbbed as if they would burst, and I felt creeping over me a terrible sensation of despair, which I shall never forget whilst I have power to remember anything.
"All at once there came upon my hearing the sound as of a short, sharp roar of fury—the Indian's grasp was loosened—my sight came back to me, again I heard, I recovered consciousness just sufficiently to see my faithful Jumbo with his mighty teeth fixed in the throat of my dying enemy, and then I sank back in a dead faint.
"How long I remained in this state it is impossible for me to say. I was awakened by a soft, cooling sensation on my forehead, and opening my eyes, regained sufficient consciousness to be aware that an Indian maiden was bathing my feverish brow with cold water from the neighbouring stream, whilst my dog, usually so ferocious, was couched near, regarding her with friendly eyes, and evidently quite aware that she was performing a kindly office, and was not to be interrupted. I strove to speak; but my benefactress forbade me with an expressive gesture, placing her finger lightly upon my lips.
"'White broder no speak,' she said, in the low guttural accents of her race; 'no open him lips. Silence berry good. Talkee hurt.'
"I was too confused and, I hope, too grateful to disobey, and remained perfectly quiet whilst the maiden continued her interesting occupation for several minutes, during which time I had an opportunity of attentively observing her. She was certainly one of the loveliest—nay, the loveliest of Indian maidens. Although she had not quite as many clothes on as an European damsel would consider necessary, their absence only served to disclose the perfect symmetry of her form, the graceful rounding of her limbs, and the natural dignity of her every movement. Her eyes, large and soft as those of the gazelle, were fringed with the most magnificent eye-lashes you can imagine, and when she cast them down, she presented an ideal of female modesty and refinement, which could not be surpassed by the most fashionable young lady that ever graced a London drawing-room. When she smiled, her face lighted up like that of a lovely child when, just awakened, it sees the loving face of its mother bending over it, and, in a word, purity, innocence, and natural beauty seemed all concentrated in the form, features, and expression of this child of the woods. Such at least was the thought which occupied my breast as I lay still and gazed upon the gentle being who was ministering to my wants in so agreeable a manner, and I think I could have stayed in the same position some time longer without any great desire to move. But, after a little while, the maiden ceased to bathe my brow, and addressing me in the same tones as before, said, 'White broder sit up now. Him better. Him no die dis time.' I mechanically obeyed, sat up, and felt much better already. In fact, there was no reason why I should not be so, for, save and except the exertion and excitement which I had undergone, and the near approach to strangulation from which Jumbo had providentially saved me, I had really received no bodily injury. It really seems a strange thing to look back upon, but here had been ten men against one poor wayfarer, and yet the ten had perished, and he was left alive. I did not think, however, of looking back at that moment; my thoughts were fixed upon my new friend: who or what was she,—where did she come from,—could she possibly be one of the tribe who had been upon my trail? If so, why did she not kill and scalp me whilst I lay senseless on the ground? Horrible thought! my head seemed to feel the knife, and I could fancy the awful wrench with which one's scalp would go; but I had no need for such thoughts. My scalp was safe and sound, and the maiden evidently could not belong to my enemies. The only way to find out the truth about her was to ask, so, adopting my style to her own, I began without loss of time.
"'My sister very good;—kind to poor white broder. Where my sister come from? How she happen to be in woods? Is she far from her home? And what my sister's name?'
"The girl laughed, and looked down upon the ground as she replied at once:
"'White broder ask many questions. Pale-face always much talkee. Moon-eye not tell eberything. No good too much talkee.'
"I doubted what to say next. I had gained one piece of information certainly, since the damsel evidently referred to herself as 'Moon-eye,' which was undoubtedly an appropriate name for her, and had been given by someone who was no bad judge of eyes in general, and hers in particular. But I wanted to know a great deal more, whilst at the same time I was anxious not to appear rude or inquisitive. So I remained silent for a little while, when presently she rose to her feet and addressed me in the following words:
"'Pale-face broder come now. "Moon-eye" show way.'