I shall not paint their astonishment when, on coming nearer, they beheld me surrounded by the arms and dead bodies of my enemies.
I sat upon the ground, supporting my head with my left hand, and resting on my knee the stock of a heavy musket. My countenance was wan and haggard, my neck and bosom were died in blood, and my limbs, almost stripped by the brambles of their slender covering, were lacerated by a thousand wounds. Three savages, two of whom were steeped in gore, lay at a small distance, with the traces of recent life on their visages. Hard by was the girl, venting her anguish in the deepest groans, and entreating relief from the new comers.
One of the company, on approaching the girl, betrayed the utmost perturbation.
"Good God!" he cried, "is this a dream?—Can it be you?—Speak!"
"Ah, my father! my father!" answered she, "it is I indeed!"
The company, attracted by this dialogue, crowded round the girl, whom her father, clasping in his arms, lifted from the ground, and pressed in a transport of joy to his breast. This delight was succeeded by solicitude respecting her condition. She could only answer his enquiries by complaining that her side was bruised to pieces. "How came you here? Who hurt you? Where did the Indians carry you?" were questions to which she could make no reply but by sobs and plaints.
My own calamities were forgotten in contemplating the fondness and compassion of the man for his child. I derived new joy from reflecting that I had not abandoned her, and that she owed her preservation to my efforts. The enquiries which the girl was unable to answer, were now put to me. Every one interrogated who I was, whence I had come, and what had given rise to this bloody contest.
I was not willing to expatiate on my story. The spirit which had hitherto sustained me began now to subside; my strength ebbed away with my blood; tremors, lassitude, and deadly cold invaded me, and I fainted on the ground.
Such is the capricious constitution of the human mind!
