PERILOUS ESCAPE FROM DEATH.
In the narrative of Moses Van Campen, we find the following incident related. He was taken prisoner by the Seneca Indians, just after Sullivan's expedition in the Revolution, on the confines of the white settlements in one of the border counties of Pennsylvania. He was marched through the wilderness, and reached the headquarters of the savages near Fort Niagara. Here he was recognized as having, a year or two previously, escaped, with two others, from his guard, five of whom he slew in their sleep with his own hand.
Savages Torturing a Captive.
On this discovery being made, the countenances of the savages grew dark and lowering. He saw at once that his fate was to be decided on the principles of Indian vengeance, and, being bound, had but little hope of escape. He, however, put on the appearance of as much unconcern as possible. The Indians withdrew by themselves to decide in what manner they should despatch their unhappy victim. They soon returned, their visages covered with a demoniac expression. A few went to gathering wood; another selected a spot, and soon a fire was kindled. Van Campen looked upon these preparations, which were being made to burn him alive, with feelings wrought up to the highest pitch of agony; yet he, with much effort, appeared calm and collected. At last, when the preparations were completed, two Indians approached, and began to unloose the cords with which he was bound. To this he submitted. But the moment he was fully loosed, he dashed the two Indians aside--felling one upon the earth with a blow of his fist--and darted off toward the fort, where he hoped to receive protection from the British officers. Tomahawks gleamed in the air behind him--rifle balls whistled around--but onward still he flew. One unarmed Indian stood in his path and intercepted him. With a giant spring, he struck him in the breast with his feet, and bore him to the earth. Recovering himself, he again started for the woods, and, as he was running for life--with the fire and faggot behind him, and a lingering death of torture--he soon outstripped all his pursuers. It being near night, he effected his escape, arrived at the fort, and was sent down the river to Montreal, to be out of the way of the savage Senecas, who thirsted for his blood as a recompense for that of their brethren whom he had slain.
FIRE IN THE FOREST.
"The summer of 1825 was unusually warm in both hemispheres, particularly in America, where its effects were fatally visible in the prevalence of epidemical disorders. During July and August, extensive fires raged in different parts of Nova Scotia, especially in the eastern division of the peninsular. The protracted drought of the summer, acting upon the aridity of the forests, had rendered them more than naturally combustible; and this, facilitating both the dispersion and the progress of the fires that appeared in the early part of the season, produced an unusual warmth. On the 6th of October, the fire was evidently approaching New Castle; at different intervals fitful blazes and flashes were observed to issue from different parts of the woods, particularly up the northwest, at the rear of New Castle, in the vicinity of Douglasstown and Moorfields, and along the banks of the Bartibog. Many persons heard the crackling of falling trees and shriveled branches, while a hoarse rumbling noise, not dissimilar to the roaring of distant thunder, and divided by pauses, like the intermittent discharges of artillery, was distinct and audible. On the 7th of October, the heat increased to such a degree, and became so very oppressive, that many complained of its enervating effects. About twelve o'clock, a pale, sickly mist, lightly tinged with purple, emerged from the forest and settled over it.
"This cloud soon retreated before a large, dark one, which, occupying its place, wrapped the firmament in a pall of vapor. This incumbrance retaining its position till about three o'clock, the heat became tormentingly sultry. There was not a breath of air; the atmosphere was overloaded; and irresistible lassitude seized the people. A stupefying dullness seemed to pervade every place but the woods, which now trembled, and rustled, and shook with an incessant and thrilling noise of explosions, rapidly following each other, and mingling their reports with a discordant variety of loud and boisterous sounds. At this time, the whole country appeared to be encircled by a fiery zone, which, gradually contracting its circle by the devastation it had made, seemed as if it would not converge into a point while any thing remained to be destroyed. A little after four o'clock, an immense pillar of smoke rose, in a vertical direction, at some distance northeast of New Castle, for a while, and the sky was absolutely blackened by this huge cloud; but a light, northerly breeze springing up, it gradually distended, and then dissipated into a variety of shapeless mists. About an hour after, or probably at half past five, innumerable large spires of smoke, issuing from different parts of the woods, and illuminated the flames that seemed to pierce them, mounted the sky. A heavy and suffocating canopy, extending to the utmost verge of observation, and appearing mere terrific by the vivid flashes and blazes that darted irregularly through it, now hung over New Castle and Douglass in threatening suspension, while showers of flaming brands, calcined leaves, ashes, and cinders, seemed to scream through the growling noise that prevailed in the woods. About nine o'clock, P.M., or shortly after, a succession of loud and appalling roars thundered through the forests. Peal after peal, crash after crash, announced the sentence of destruction. Every succeeding shock created fresh alarm; every clap came loaded with its own destructive energy. With greedy rapidity did the flames advance to the devoted scene of their ministry; nothing could impede their progress. They removed every obstacle by the desolation they occasioned, and several hundred miles of prostrate forests and smitten woods marked their devastating way.
"The river, tortured into violence by the hurricane, foamed with rage, and flung its boiling spray upon the land. The thunder pealed along the vault of heaven--the lightning appeared to rend the firmament. For a moment all was still, and a deep and awful silence reigned over every thing. All nature appeared to be hushed, when suddenly a lengthened and sullen roar came booming through the forests, driving a thousand massive and devouring flames before it. Then New Castle and Douglasstown, and the whole northern side of the river, extending from Bartibog to the Naashwaak, a distance of more than one hundred miles in length, became enveloped in an immense sheet of flame, that spread over nearly six thousand square miles! That the reader may form a faint idea of the desolation and misery, which no pen can describe, he must picture to himself a large and rapid river, thickly settled for one hundred miles or more on both sides of it. He must also fancy four thriving towns, two on each side of this river, and then reflect that these towns and settlements were all composed of wooden houses, stores, stables and barns; that these barns and stables were filled with crops, and that the arrival of the fall importations had stocked the warehouses and stores with spirits, powder, and a variety of cumbustible articles, as well as with the necessary supplies for the approaching winter. He must then remember that the cultivated or settled part of the river is but a long, narrow strip, about a quarter of a mile wide, lying between the river and almost interminable forests, stretching along the very edge of its precints and all around it. Extending his conception, he will see the forests thickly expanding over more than six thousand square miles, and absolutely parched into tinder by the protracted heat of a long summer.