ANY years ago when the great valley of the Mississippi was rarely trodden by the white men, there lived upon the southern frontier of Kentucky, then nearly a wilderness, an old hunter, named Johnson. He was one of the pioneers of the region in which he had built his log cabin, and had long procured a comfortable subsistence for a wife and child by the aid of a good rifle and his snares. Mrs. Johnson had become accustomed to the privations of her situation; and her daughter, Sarah, having arrived at the age of young womanhood, contributed to relieve the monotony of a life in the wilderness. The cares of the family were slight. Their simple food and clothing were easily procured, and their wishes for the conveniences of civilized life had ceased, when it was found that they could not be gratified. In short, we may say, the Johnson family lived happily in their wilderness home.

Sarah Johnson was about eighteen years of age, when she was first brought to our notice. She was not handsome, but she was tolerably “good looking,” and possessed a stock of good sense, which is somewhat rarer than beauty. Old Johnson said she was a “likely girl,” and her mother thought she deserved a good husband. This desert seemed to be about to receive its reward. Two or three miles from Johnson’s cabin, lived another hunter, named John Blake. Like Johnson, Blake had long followed hunting for a subsistence, had married, and had one child. The wife was dead; but the child had grown to manhood, and Samuel Blake was now regarded as quite equal to his father in hunting.

As Johnson and Blake had been very intimate friends for a long time, their children were frequently thrown into each other’s company; and a strong attachment had sprung up between them. The fathers looked favorably upon this perpetuation of their intimacy, and it soon became a settled matter that Samuel Blake and Sarah Johnson should be man and wife.

Both the old hunters had always kept up a friendly intercourse with the neighboring Indians, and many of the latter had visited the cabins and partaken of their hospitalities. Johnson had obtained a great reputation among the red men for his skill in hunting. His company was sought by the young men of the tribe, and always with profit. Samuel Blake was also regarded as a brave and skilful hunter, and admired by the Indians. Among those who frequently visited Johnson’s cabin, was young Oconostota, son of the chief of the neighboring tribe. He was already distinguished as a warrior and hunter, and his personal appearance was so admirable that many an Indian maiden’s heart beat high with the hope that she might be the fortunate one who should share his wigwam.

But Oconostota’s eyes and thoughts were fixed elsewhere. He had seen and conversed with Sarah Johnson, and he burned with the desire to secure her for his wife. Sarah could not help seeing the admiring looks he gave her during his frequent visits; but she did not suspect the real state of his feelings; probably, because her thoughts found occupation enough in thinking of Samuel Blake.

At length, however, the young brave ventured to disclose his wishes to old Johnson, during a hunting excursion, in which they were engaged together. The old hunter was surprised; but considering that Oconostota might easily be irritated and dangerous consequences ensue, he calmly and deliberately made known to him that Sarah had long been engaged to Samuel Blake, and that that engagement could not be broken.

Love cannot listen to reason. Oconostota urged his suit still further, offering, with true Indian simplicity, two splendid horses for the hunter’s daughter. He increased the number to ten, but the hunter remained firm, and the young brave was forced to give up entreaty. When Johnson reached his cabin, he found young Blake and his father there, both having been invited by Mrs. Johnson to remain and take supper with them. The venison was broiling before the coals in the large fire-place, the table was neatly spread, and every thing had a cheerful appearance. Oconostota had refused Johnson’s invitation to spend the evening with him, and returned to his village. The hunter thought he would have done better to have accepted the invitation.

While old Johnson and old Blake talked over the doings of the day, and the adventures of many previous ones, young Blake, Sarah, and Mrs. Johnson, talked of matters less stirring, but more important to the females—cooking, house-keeping, &c. The pewter dishes soon received their smoking, savory weight, and all seated themselves around the table. Johnson then introduced the subject which had been troubling his thoughts for some time previous. The whole party was informed of the proposal of Oconostota, and of his rejection by the father on behalf of his daughter. The young couple were both surprised, and Samuel Blake laughed outright. The old men looked grave, and Mrs. Johnson troubled. They knew the Indian character well enough to know that the matter would not end there. In fact, serious consequences might be expected to result from the refusal.

Some discussion ensued, when old Blake recommended that Samuel and Sarah should be married as soon as possible, and then conciliatory measures might secure the agreement of Oconostota and his friends to what could not be changed. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson agreed to this proposition, and the young people almost “jumped” at it. Before that meal was concluded, the day for the wedding was fixed, and it was arranged that the parties should proceed to a settlement about ten miles from the cabin of Johnson, where the ceremony would be performed. Then a new cabin was to be erected between Blake’s and Johnson’s, spacious enough for Samuel and Sarah, and old Blake.

Meanwhile, Oconostota deeply felt the sting of rejected love. He strove to conquer his feelings, and thought of taking an Indian wife. But his nature was too passionate, and he resolved to gain the object of his love, either by fair means or foul. He visited the Johnsons several times afterwards, and was informed that the wedding day had been appointed; and nothing remained for him but to acquiesce, or strive to get possession of Sarah by force or stratagem. His plan was soon laid.

Ascertaining the particular day upon which the wedding was to take place, the young chief resolved to get the aid of a few young men of his tribe, and carry off the bride the night before it. The day approached and the happy couple were all joyful expectation. They believed that the wishes of long years were about to be gratified. Samuel Blake spent the day before the happy one, at Johnson’s cabin, arranging with Sarah things that had been arranged very frequently before; and he did not leave it until the shades of evening were thickening around. Old Blake intended to remain all night with Johnson, to be ready for the journey of the morrow. Sarah accompanied Samuel to a considerable distance from the cabin, and he reluctantly bade her adieu. She then turned to pursue her way home.

Oconostota, with his friends had been lurking around the neighborhood during the afternoon. He had seen the lovers leave the cabin together, and he followed them at a short distance, like a beast of prey, watching his opportunity. When he saw Samuel Blake leave Sarah, he gave a signal, resembling the voice of a well-known forest-bird, and collected his accomplices. He then stole silently to the edge of the wood near which he knew Sarah must pass, and waited for her. The young girl came on trippingly, as if she had no care in the world. Suddenly, she was seized, and before she could shriek, hurried into the wood. She saw the forms of the red men, and guessed their object. She shrieked for help, as they hurried her swiftly through the wood; but there appeared no help near. On they went, until they reached the end of the wood, where the prairie opened before them. Horses were waiting. The red men mounted, Oconostota placing the almost fainting form of Sarah upon the horse, before him. Away they went like the wind. It was a moonlight evening, and as Oconostota turned to see if any one was pursuing, he caught sight of a blaze, rising above the dark trees, and knew at once that one of his men, more devilish than the rest, had contrived to set fire to Johnson’s cabin. He thought he heard the sound of other horses’ feet far behind; but could not distinguish any one in the hasty glance he cast behind him. The sounds increased, and seemed to grow nearer. Then Oconostota turned and saw the forms of three mounted men urging their horses to the greatest speed.

At this critical moment, the young chief’s horse stumbled and fell, Oconostota, with Sarah in his arms, leaping to the ground just in time to save himself from being crushed. This checked the progress of the whole party, and ere Oconostota could resume his seat, he saw the pursuers were close upon his party. It was in vain to think of escape by flight. The Indians were six in number, and the pursuers were but three. The chances were in Oconostota’s favor. But the pursuers all had rifles, while two of the Indians had only bows and arrows.

On came the hunters, and a volley was exchanged. Two of the Indians fell from their horses, and it was evident that a third was seriously, if not fatally wounded. Samuel Blake received an arrow in his left arm, but it did not disable him. Old Johnson and Blake reloaded, and delivered their fire with an unerring aim. Then they rushed upon them with their rifles, clubbed and laid about them with tremendous effect. Oconostota, leaving Sarah upon the horse which he had ridden, and mounted that of one of his fallen friends. Young Blake soon distinguished his form and fired his rifle as he rushed upon him. The shot broke the arm of the young chief, but he gallantly drew his knife and closed with his antagonist. A desperate struggle ensued. The young men fell to the ground almost beneath the horses’ feet, and rolled over and over like wild cats in a death struggle. At length Blake obtained the knife, and plunged it into the breast of his foe. Then he arose to look around for his friends. But one of the Indians had escaped by flight; the rest were all dead. Johnson was unhurt, and standing beside his daughter’s horse. Old Blake was wounded in the shoulder, and leaning against his horse.

No time was to be lost. The Indian who had escaped would inform his people of the death of Oconostota, and a war-party might be expected to set out in pursuit of them. Samuel Blake first ascertained that Sarah was unhurt, then helped his father to mount his horse, and then mounted himself. Johnson placed his daughter upon his horse, and the party dashed off on their return. After a hard ride, they reached the edge of the wood, dismounted and hurried through it with almost the speed that the Indians had used in carrying off the bride. Their course was directed towards Blake’s cabin, where they intended to join Mrs. Johnson, and at once set off for the settlement. They passed, near Johnson’s cabin, and saw that it was almost reduced to ashes. They arrived at Blake’s cabin, and there found Mrs. Johnson, who was filled with anxiety for the fate of her child. Congratulations and tears of joy followed the meeting. But there was little time for indulging in these.

Things were soon arranged for starting for the settlement, though most of the party were suffering severely from fatigue. They started. We need not detail the trials and dangers of that journey. They were terrible, but borne with patience and fortitude. The whole party reached the settlement just after daylight, were kindly received by the inhabitants, and their wants supplied. Old Blake’s wound in the shoulder was not dangerous, and with the careful attention of his friends, he soon recovered. His son suffered much from the wound in his arm, which was too long neglected. Samuel and Sarah were married as soon as they could find it convenient to seek the minister of the village.

The Indians were for a short time much exasperated at the death of their young prince and his friends; but his father was a wise and noble man. He told his warriors that Oconostota had merited death by his treacherous conduct; and that they would have acted in the same manner as the white hunters did, had any of their children been stolen from them. He sent a messenger to Johnson, professing the continuance of his friendship, and inviting him and his friends to return to their homes, where he would ensure their protection. After some delay, they complied with the wishes of the generous chief, and returned to their cabins in the wilderness. Johnson’s old cabin was re-built; Blake removed to a clearing nearer Johnson’s, and occupied by Sarah and her husband.

It remains to be explained how the hunters received timely notice of the abduction of Sarah. When Samuel Blake left her to pursue his route homeward, he walked rather slowly, busy thinking of his happy future. Suddenly it occurred to him, that there was one little matter he had forgotten to mention to Sarah, and he returned swiftly with the hope of overtaking her before she reached her house. A shriek broke on his ear before he had proceeded far, and with strange conviction, he knew it came from Sarah. He hurried swiftly onward, reached the cabin, and inquired for Sarah. She was not there. The mother guessed the startling truth; because she thought she had seen the Indians lurking near the cabin during the day. Old Johnson, Blake, and Samuel grasped a rifle each; Mrs. Johnson was directed to take her two bold and faithful dogs, and an extra gun, and proceed towards Blake’s cabin, where she would be safer than in her own; and then the hunters hurried out, secured the horses which had been caught upon the prairie and kept in a small stable near the cabin, and proceeded through the wood towards the Indian village. They reached the prairie, caught sight of the flying Indians, and after a hard ride and fight, rescued the bride as before described.

The cabin was not set on fire until some time after the hunters had left it. Mrs. Johnson possessed a bold and masculine spirit, and she ventured upon her dangerous journey without fear. She met with no obstruction and reached Blake’s cabin a considerable time before the return of the pursuing party. Oconostota’s death was regretted by the young men of his tribe, but his father effectually screened the white men from their vengeance, and lived in peace with them until his death.

The young couple lived happily together in their forest home. Samuel Blake continued to hunt for a livelihood, and his rewards were sufficient to bring plenty and content to his household. He often visited the village of the tribe to which Oconostota belonged, and by favors and presents soon won the esteem and regard of the red men; they being fully convinced that the young chief was justly punished for a wilful wrong.

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