Vermont Phœnix

Thrilling Adventure with two Indians.
BY F. H. DICKINSON.

"Bravo!" exclaimed we, inwardly as we listened to the recital of the following thrilling adventure by the old Hero himself.

Reader! imagine yourself snugly ensconced by the side of a cheerful blazing fire, shooting up and out from a good old fashioned fire-place, upon a raw and cheerless October day. Upon our left, in his favourite armed chair, reclined a hale, hearty old gentleman who has buffeted the cold northern winds of some eighty-six winters; on our right, the goodly dame, his wife, industriously plying her knitting-needles. Loudly chirped the cricket on the hearth, and cheerily blazed the enlivening fire Ah! thought we.

The times of yore were happier far, than now. With dark and cheerless stoves, and sick'ning air.

The conversation turned upon this and that! and at last we ventured to exclaim-- "Now for your adventure "with two Indians."

"Ah, ah!" said Mr Dickinson, "Well, well, you shall have it!" But we will not --aye, cannot, or our memory fails, give it in his expressive language. We will attempt, however ineffectually we accomplish our object.

'Twas in the year 1785, that Mr Consider Dickinson was engaged in the transaction of some business on the northern coast of Vermont, near Lake Champlain. He was then about 24 years of age; and of a muscular built frame, rather past the medium size of men. One of the prominent characteristics of Mr D. was, his bold, daring, and intrepid conduct in any emergency.

The night previous to his departure for St. Johns, his place of destination, he "put up" at a Hotel in a village situated on the lake. There was a young man, a merchant of about 22 years of age, who occupied the same apartment as that of Mr D. The room adjoining, was occupied by two ugly and ferocious-looking Indians.

During the night, Mr Dickinson and the merchant were roused by the uproarious voices of the Indians, who were evidently highly excited with rum. Carefully peeping through the door, Mr D. beheld the Indians stretched upon the floor in front of the fire. Long daggers were in their hands, and they seemed greatly incensed at each other-each gradually dragged himself towards the other, threatening death. The merchant urged Mr Dickinson to interpose; but the latter, whose prudence was equal to his courage, wisely refused; and having something of an antipathy to those sharp playthings, especially when placed in the hands of drunken Indians, he told the young man the safest place for them was, to remain secure within their own room. The two Indians soon amicably settled their difficulty and were quiet till the break of day.

In the morning the merchant was desirous of hastening to St. Johns, to be in season to attend a grand "ball," there to take place the following evening.

St. Johns was twenty-five miles distant; and the young and inexperienced merchant soon formed an agreement with the two Indians to take him in a small sail-boat to his place of destination. As soon as Mr. Dickinson became aware of this, he remonstrated with the merchant upon such rashness. But the latter was inexorable; or he was actuated by a powerful incentive, that of meeting his betrothed at the ball! He had a slender form, and was evidently wholly incapable of any effectual resistance, especially against two such ugly, dusky giants as his guides. To use the remark of Mr D. "his flesh looked as soft and delicate as that of a child!"

"Very well," exclaimed Mr Dickinson, as they were about to go; "I must bid you good bye, for I never expect to see you again!"

"How so," quickly returned the young man, knowing their place of destination to be the same.

"Why, sir." said Mr D. "if you go alone with those Indians, you never'll reach St. Johns! The rascals will cut your throat before you get half way!"

He knew full well the Indian's character for revenge; and had they ever received any injuries from white men, they would wreak their vengeance upon this helpless young man. But the latter, although at first somewhat startled at the idea, still persisted in his determination to go, and dare the consequences. Mr Dickinson remonstrated in vain, and plainly advised him of what would be the ultimate end of such rashness. But all to no purpose. The idea of beholding his betrothed at the ball overcame all obstacles; even the fear of the long knives of these ferocious savages was of no avail.

"Well," said Mr Dickinson, "I see you are determined to go; and if you go, I go!" Although his business called him another route, yet he was too fully aware of the perilous situation the merchant would be in, when left alone with the Indians, not to sacrifice his own interest to the young man's safety.

The latter, of course, was quite thankful for his company, and now felt perfectly safe.

They then entered and seated themselves at the bow of the canoe; Mr D. directly in front of the merchant. The Indians hoisted their small sail, and a lively breeze sent them skimming swiftly over the waters of Lake Champlain.

The stipulated sum the Indians were to receive for transporting them to their place of destination, was a jug of New England rum, to be delivered when they should arrive. This jug Mr D. and the young man kept at the bow of the canoe.

Ten miles were rapidly passed, when a calm ensued, the sail hung loose and the boat stopped and commenced whirling slowly around. The Indian at the helm had spoken a few times in English, while the other seemed entirely ignorant of the language.

The boat continued to whirl round and round, and the Indians seemed not at all inclined to take the oar and row the canoe.

"Why don't he take the oars and row us along." exclaimed Mr Dickinson, to the Indian interpreter.

"He says, he won't," replied the latter.

The other Indian then began to motion to Mr D. for something. The interpreter said he was motioning for the jug of rum.

Although at first quite reluctant to comply with this request, (for he knew well the effects a few potions of alcohol would have on those troublesome and unruly Indians, Mr Dickinson, by the earnest solicitations of the young merchant, allowed them to qua one or two draughts each, when the Indian muttered.

"Now we are brothers!"

"No, we are not!" exclaimed Mr Dickinson, emphatically, as he drew the jug towards, and placed it beside himself.

But the savages still seemed unsatisfied, and the foremost again mutely demanded the rum.

"Tell him he can't have it, until we arrive." earnestly replied Mr Dickinson.

Fury was depicted on the countenance of the savage Indian! A ferocious glare shot from his eyes! Quick as thought, he thrust his hand into his bosom, and drew forth a gleaming dagger! The young merchant trembled and turned pale! Mr D. was firm and undaunted! His keen, piercing eye watched every movement of the savage! The latter, still clutching his dagger, hastily rolled up his loose pants and showed his limbs, exhibiting a scar made by cannon-ball, with a diabolical expression of countenance, and low muttering, showing the deep hate that rankled in his heart towards the white man. Then baring his neck, he pointed to a deep scar received in some former conflict.

"What means he by this?" eagerly demanded Mr Dickinson, of the interpreter.

"He received these wounds," replied the latter, "at the battle of the Cedars, and now will be revenged on the white man!"

A stern seal sat upon the lips!-a vivid fire flashed from the eyes of Mr Dickinson! His manly breast dilated! His whole visage expressed-"I fear him not!"

Turning quickly to the merchant, who sat pale as a ghost, he exclaimed.

"Hand me that piece of broken paddle!"

"Oh don't! I beg of you don't! We shall both be killed," exclaimed the trembling merchant.

"Hand it to me this moment, or I'll sink the boat!" replied Mr D.

"Oh! I can't swim!" replied the young man; "but if you will have it, there it is;" and he reluctantly handed the paddle.

Mr Dickinson eagerly grasped it. The dark savage flourished his glittering dagger! The interpreter sat silent and motionless! The affrightened merchant almost fainted! The savage, was about to pounce upon Mr D.! The cool intrepidity of the latter was now manifested! Flourishing that wreck of a paddle, he fearlessly exclaimed.

"Tell him if he advances one step, I'll dash his brains out!"

Surprised and abashed at this discovery of the spirit of his antagonist, the Indian ludicrously exhibited his disappointment. He dropped the dagger upon the canoe's bottom! His hands hung motionless at his side! The tears streamed down his cheeks. and he blubbered like a child.

"Oh dear!" groaned the merchant. "I hope we are safe now."

"What's he crying for?" exclaimed Mr Dickinson, still clutching his paddle, and standing on his guard, for he knew full well the wily Indian might exhibit his cunning in such a pretence.

"He's crying because he can't have rum," said the interpreter.

"Tell him to take those paddles" said Mr D. "and row for life to Island Ore."

The Indian said he would comply, if they would then buy them some bread and give them the jug of rum.

"Very well," said Mr Dickinson; "then row us this mile very quick!"

The paddles were seized-the light canoe rapidly skimmed over the waters, and in a few moments shot up to the wharf of the Island. The young merchant jumped out first-Mr D. took the jug and broken paddle, following with his face towards the Indians. The latter were about to follow, but Mr Dickinson, as soon as he found himself on terra firma, again brandished his paddle, and warmly exclaimed,

"Now you rascals, make off with yourselves! if you attempt to land, you are dead men!"

The Indians reluctantly glanced at the jug of rum, and then at the club wielded by a bold and daring man, and wisely chose to beat a retreat, and were never seen by our informant.

The young merchant acknowledged the preservation of his life to Mr Dickinson, and his regrets at the loss of the ball were forgotten in the joy of his deliverance from the Indians.

If any one doubts the truth of this adventure, we advise them to call upon the aged hero, at his residence in Deerfield, and receive the statement from his own lips.

"Ah!" said the companion of his old age, as she raised her eyes from her knitting, with an arch glance, "we must look out for you—you intend to publish this!"

She was right; we did intend to publish it. And as we always intend to do what we intend—here Mr Editor you have it.

*The battle of the Cedars was disastrous to the forces commanded by the brave Col. McKinster of Nobleton, whose whole force was entirely cut up and destroyed

†Island Ore—this was a small island, situated about a mile from where they were. It contained a small British fort.