THE NOCTURNAL RESCUE.

'Le vrai n'est pas toujours le vraisemblable.'

It was on a stormy night in the month of June, that a benighted traveller was traversing one of those dark, impervious forests, so common in the western part of America. He was attended by a coloured servant, who followed him closely as he slowly threaded a devious pathway, often obstructed by brambles, or perplexed by a thick undergrowth. At length the track became so narrow, that Mr. Ormsby, (for that was the gentleman's name,) began to apprehend he had lost his way. "Sambo," said he to his servant, "did they not tell us at the last public house that the way was hard to find, but that we must always turn to the left?" "I believe so, Massa," was the laconic reply. Presently the jaded horse of Mr. Ormsby, actually stood still with weariness, and his rider, after endeavouring to encourage him to proceed by gentle solicitations with the bridle, was forced, reluctantly, to apply the spur. Just at that instant, the forest echoed with piercing shrieks, plainly proceeding from a human voice, apparently in some extremity of distress.

"Hark, Sambo," said the gentleman, "There surely is some person ill, or otherwise in danger, near us!" "Tis panter, Massa, panter, sure as you born," said the negro, his teeth chattering audibly with terror-"better ride on, Massa!"""Tis no panther, you silly fellow, but some human creatures in distress. I must go and attempt to succour them." At this proposition, the servant gave way to the violence of his alarm; "Oh Massa! Massa! you go af ter panter, he tear you to pieces. He cry like child, to catch poor folks and eat 'em. Oh, dont go, Massa! Missee charge me, she say, Sambo, take care of Massa!"

During this harangue, the shrieks continued, and Mr. Ormsby examined his are arms to see if they were loaded; without regarding the expostulations of his servant, he dismounted, and throwing the bridle of his horse to Sambo, he dashed into the wood, in the direction of the cries.

"Sambo," said he, "be silent and you will be safe; but if you yell out in your usual fashion, you may chance to

The

lose your life."... The storm was becoming violent. wind swept through the forest, bending the flexible trees to the earth, and tearing off huge boughs from those which resisted its fury. Loud bursts of thunder were reverberated from the adjacent hills, and streams of vivid lightning darted through the skies, illuminating the gloomy recesses of the forest. Mr. Ormsby paused for a moment. He felt that there was danger in his purpose, and yet the continuance of the shrieks still urged him forward. The wind, which had swept with awful violence at its first rising, now seemed to abate its fury, though still it sighed and moaned fearfully among the crashing branches. Mr. Ormsby resolutely pressed forward, holding a pistol ready for instant use in his right hand, and pulling aside the bending boughs and shaggy undergrowth with the other. At length, he encountered a thicket so completely inaccessible to human footsteps, that he paused and bent his ear in the direction of the shrieks. The thunder had rolled a long and violent peal far away, so that the cries were distinctly audible. These appeared to increase in loudness and length, till one tremendous yell closed the paroxysm, and Mr. Ormsby listened in vain for another. Presently a weak, low cry, resembling that of an infant, was heard distinctly. Sambo's warning now occurred to his master's mind with some perplexity. He knew that the panther was said to imitate an infant's cry, to allure his prey. Just as this thought occurred, a vivid flash of lightning revealed to him a white object on the ground, not ten steps from the spot where he stood. Mr. Ormsby darted forward and siezed the object, which proved, to his astonishment, to be the very infant whose cries he had heard. He folded it in his arms, and hastened back to deposit it with Sambo, being aware that he stood no chance of achieving a perilous adventure thus encumbered. The honest negro uttered an exclamation of joy, when he heard his master's well known step returning from the wood. But it was with difficulty he could be prevailed upon to touch the infant, being thoroughly persuaded that it was no human creature, but a panter, or a spirit.

By this time the rain began to pour down in torrents, and the darkness became so deep, that Mr. Ormsby resolved to make his way out of the wood with all possible expe

dition; but he determined, to return in the morning, with sufficient aid to explore the forest. The task of escaping from so intricate and perplexed a spot, with no light but occasional gleams of lightning, was no easy one; but Mr. Ormsby courageously persevered in extricating himself from his difficulties, and after four hours' wandering, encumbered with a helpless child, and a terrified servant, he finally arrived at a farm house on the road side. Here he obtained access with some little importunity, and after giving the infant in charge to the good woman of the house, he proceeded to dry, and refresh himself.

The next morning, Mr. Ormsby procured the assistance of several respectable yeoman of the country, and set out to explore the forest. After six hours' severe search, the party returned, having penetrated as far as possible into the thicket, without making any satisfactory discovery. They saw evident marks of its being the resort of panthers, and perhaps, other beasts of prey; but, except the fragment of a shawl, found on the spot where the child was discovered, there was no symptom of a human being having been near the thicket. The adventure terminated, with Mr. Ormsby's taking charge of the infant, and carrying it home to his own family, where it was reared with great tenderness among his offspring.

Sixteen years after, Miss Lucy Ormsby, as the foundling was denominated, had become the belle of the village, and was the cause of many a severe heart ache, to the rustic beaux of the neighbourhood. About this time, the conflict of America with the mother country, had reached its height. War, with all its terrors, aggravated by invasion, was sweeping its desolations over the fair and salubrious clime of the Colonial territory. The Indians of the Western country were becoming mutinous, and a detachment of troops, among whom was Mr. (now Col.) Ormsby, was sent to intimidate those dangerous neighbours of the distressed Colonists.

The Colonel arrived at a settlement of friendly Indians, where he was coarsely but hospitably entertained for a night and a day, preparatory to commencing his negotiations with the hostile tribes. Among the females of the wigwam, was a white woman, whose complexion had attained a tawny hue, from long exposure to wind and sun;

but who, nevertheless, retained the language and manners of her own nation. She seemed particularly desirous to enter into conversation with her countrymen, and Col. Ormsby contrived to have a secret interview with her, in which she implored him to take her back to civilized life. “I have no kindred living, that I know of," said she, “but still, I ardently desire to return to a state of society, congenial with my tastes and early habits. For sixteen years I have remained here in willing exile, but the motive which detained me, no longer exists. I was attached, by the strongest ties of gratitude, to an old chief, who died about a month ago, and I am now at liberty to quit this settlement whenever I please. I was born with good prospects, being the only child of a wealthy and respectable citizen of Philadelphia. But it was my misfortune to form an attachment to a specious young man, who induced me to elope from the most indulgent of father's. When my husband found that this act of disobedience had occasioned my being disinherited, he soon betrayed his motives for seeking a connexion with me. His conduct was at first unkind, and when my father actually died without forgiving me, and left his estate to another, the wrath of my tyrant disdained even the restraints of common decency. Nevertheless, he forced me to accompany him in an expedition to one of the Western States, and accordingly, we set off with an infant. of eight months old, on our toilsome and dangerous journey. After travelling ten days onward, we suddenly entered a trackless forest, and I began first to suspect from the demeanor of my husband, that he intended to destroy me. There arose a dreadful storm, and night came on us in circumstances of heart-rending distress. The fiend, for surely he was not a man, who had thus inveigled me to destruction, then announced his purpose in plain and clear terms. My terror deprived me of all presence of mind, and he tore my infant from my arms, dashed it on the earth, and dragged me after him into a horrible thicket, which seemed to be the abode of wild beasts. I shrieked, but alas! no sound replied to my agony, but the terrific thunder, which seemed to shake the firm set earth to its centre. Just as the wretch was about to stab me to the heart, an Indian burst from the thicket, and wrested me from his grasp. A struggle ensued, in which my tyrant received his death

stroke. During this horrible conflict, I fainted, and did not recover, until my deliverer had borne me to a place of refuge. At my desire, he returned to search for my babe, but alas! the wild beasts had destroyed it, for we had heard their yells, even above the uproar of the tempest.

"The agony I had undergone, occasioned a temporary alienation of my reason. The good old chief, into whose hands I had fallen, conducted me safely to this settlement, where I remained ten years in a state of partial, but harmless derangement. At length, a white physician happened to call here, on a tour through the Western settlement. He saw, and pitied my condition. After using such remedies as his skill suggested, I recovered the use of my estranged faculties, and would gladly have returned with him to my former grade in society. But my deliverer had by this time, fallen into many painful infirmities, and I could not desert him without base ingratitude. The physician who restored me to reason, was also a Missionary preacher, and he directed my renovated mind towards the only subject that can properly occupy the exclusive attention of an intelligent being. I became a Christian, and in that blessed faith, found a remedy for all my miseries. It was my task from this time, to impart the information I had received, to others. My benefactor listened, with partial affection, to my accounts of the holy truths sent from heaven for the benefit of erring man. I had the ineffable delight of seeing him resign his breath with a full hope of gospel salvation. Since his death, I have been earnestly desirous of returning to a state of civilized society. If you will undertake to be my protector, Sir, I will attend you willingly."

Col. Ormsby listened to this narrative with breathless interest. When it was concluded, he asked the female, on what day of the month, and year, she had encountered her tragical adventure in the forest. She replied without hesitation, and the Colonel found the date corresponded exactly with his own nocturnal journey through the same forest. He then felt assured that the mother of his adopted child was before him. With some

little circumlocution, he gave his own account of the adventure, on hearing which, she fell at his feet in a rapture