I sat me down far on the border.  But the Shawnees came upon me, and came as men of war, and their hands were red with the blood of my neighbours, and they raised them against my little infants.  Thee asked me in the wood, what I would do in such case, having arms in my hand?  Friend, I had arms in my hand, at that moment,—­a gun that had shot me the beasts of the mountain for food, and a knife that had pierced the throats of bears in their dens.  I gave them to the Shawnee chief, that he might know I was a friend.—­Friend! if thee asks me now for my children, I can tell thee—­With my own knife he struck down my eldest boy! with my own gun he slew the mother of my children!—­If thee should live till thee is gray, thee will never see the sight I saw that day!  When thee has children that Injuns murder, as thee stands by,—­a wife that clasps thee legs in the writhing of death,—­her blood, spouting up to thee bosom, where she has slept,—­an old mother calling thee to help her in the death-struggle:—­then, friend, then thee may see—­then thee may know—­then thee may feel—­then thee may call theeself wretched, for thee will be so!  Here was my little boy,—­does thee see? there his two sisters—­thee understands?—­there—­Thee may think I would have snatched a weapon to help them then!  Well, thee is right:—­but it was too late!—­All murdered, friend!—­all—­all,—­all cruelly murdered!”

It is impossible to convey an idea of the extraordinary vehemence, the wild accents, the frantic looks, with which Nathan ended the horrid story, into which he had been betrayed by his repining companion.  His struggles to subdue the passions that the dreadful recollections of a whole family’s butchery awoke in his bosom, only served to add double distortion to his changes of countenance, which, a better index of the convulsion within than were his broken, incoherent, half-inarticulate words, assumed at last an appearance so wild, so hideous, so truly terrific, that Roland was seized with horror, deeming himself confronted with a raging maniac.  He raised his hand to remove that of Nathan, which still clutched his arm, and clutched it with painful force; but while in the act, the fingers relaxed of themselves, and Nathan dropped suddenly to the earth, as if struck down by a thunderbolt, his mouth foaming, his eyes distorted, his hands clenched, his body convulsed,—­in short, exhibiting every proof of an epileptic fit, brought on by overpowering agitation of mind.  As he fell, little Peter sprang to his side, and throwing his paws on his unconscious master’s breast, stood over him as if to protect him, growling at Roland; who, though greatly shocked at the catastrophe, did not hesitate to offer such relief as was in his power.  Disregarding the menace of the dog, which seemed at last to understand the purpose was friendly, he raised Nathan’s head upon his knee, loosened the neckcloth that bound his throat, and sprinkled his face with water from