When Wilderness Was King eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 323 pages of information about When Wilderness Was King.

When Wilderness Was King eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 323 pages of information about When Wilderness Was King.

CHAPTER

      I. A Message from the West
     II.  The Call of Duty
    III.  A New Acquaintance
     IV.  Captain Wells of Fort Wayne
      V. Through the Heart of the Forest
     VI.  From the Jaws of Death
    VII.  A Circle in the Sand
   VIII.  Two Men and a Maid
     IX.  In Sight of the Flag
      X. A Lane of Peril
     XI.  Old Fort Dearborn
    XII.  The Heart of a Woman
   XIII.  A Wager of Fools
    XIV.  Darkness and Surprise
     XV.  An Adventure Underground
    XVI.  “Prance wins, Monsieur!”
   XVII.  A Contest of Wits
  XVIII.  Glimpses of Danger
    XIX.  A Conference and a Resolve
     XX.  In the Indian Camp
    XXI.  A Council of Chiefs
   XXII.  The Last Night at Dearborn
  XXIII.  The Death-Shadow of the Miamis
   XXIV.  The Day of Doom
    XXV.  In the Jaws of the Tiger
   XXVI.  The Field of the Dead
  XXVII.  A Ghostly Vision
 XXVIII.  An Angel in the Wilderness
   XXIX.  A Soldier of France
    XXX.  The Rescue at the Stake
   XXXI.  A Search, and its Reward
  XXXII.  The Pledge of a Wyandot
 XXXIII.  An Intervention of Fate
  XXXIV.  A Stumble in the Dark
   XXXV.  The Battle on the Shore
  XXXVI.  In the New Gray Dawn

  “I saw a dot upon the map, and a housefly’s filmy wing—­
  They said ’twas Dearborn’s picket-flag, when Wilderness was King.

* * * * * *

  I heard the block-house gates unbar, the column’s solemn tread,
  I saw the Tree of a single leaf its splendid foliage shed
  To wave awhile that August morn above the column’s head;
  I heard the moan of muffled drum, the woman’s wail of fife,
  The Dead March played for Dearborn’s men just marching out of life;
  The swooping of the savage cloud that burst upon the rank
  And struck it with its thunderbolt in forehead and in flank,
  The spatter of the musket-shot, the rifles’ whistling rain,—­
  The sandhills drift round hope forlorn that never marched again.”

  —­Benjamin F. Taylor.

When Wilderness Was King

CHAPTER I

A MESSAGE FROM THE WEST

Surely it was no longer ago than yesterday.  I had left the scythe lying at the edge of the long grass, and gone up through the rows of nodding Indian corn to the house, seeking a draught of cool water from the spring.  It was hot in the July sunshine; the thick forest on every side intercepted the breeze, and I had been at work for some hours.  How pleasant and inviting the little river looked in the shade of the great trees, while, as I paused a moment bending over the high bank, I could see a lazy pike nosing about among the twisted roots below.

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When Wilderness Was King from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.