garrisoned also, they saw lights in the windows, and ran to it for protection. They knocked and called, but no answer was given. One of the company, climbing the wall and looking over it, discovered an Indian at a small distance, with a musket in his hand. Exhausted and agonising, Mrs. Heard bade her children and companions make the best shift they could, while she herself sat down, to meet death on the spot. In a short time, however, she began to recover her strength and spirits, and betook, herself for safety to a thicket, about a furlong from the house. Here an Indian came up to her, with a pistol in his hand; looked at her, and without saying a word withdrew. A few minutes after he returned again, and again left her in the same manner. She then attempted to cross the river in vain, and, returning to her retreat, continued there until the savages decamped.

Having thus wonderfully escaped from destruction, she had the satisfaction to find her house preserved. It had been vigorously assaulted by the enemy; but it had, also, been bravely defended. It stood in the skirt of the town, nearest to the forest. By the prudence and heroism of this lady it was defended through a ten years' war. Though often and strongly solicited to place herself in security among her friends at Portsmouth, she determined to keep her station. How few men would have continued at this post of honour when pressed by such solicitation! Mrs. Heard was a woman of distinguished piety.

Shocking as the preceding narratives certainly are, they are exceeded by the following instance of horrid depravity, exemplified in the conduct of a civilized native of Canada.

“Mr. Long, who published a volume of Travels through N. America, about 30 years ago, after traversing a great extent of country, was compelled to winter among the Nipegon Indians. Here he found one Fulton, a trader, who had several Canadians as his servants. Being obliged to divide his men into two parties, which is called the cawway, or casting lots, which party shall hunt and fish, and which shall stay with the master, he did so accordingly. The fishing party consisted of

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Charles Janvier, Francois St, Ange, and Louis Dufresne, all natives of Canada, who being provided with axes, icecutters, and fishing materials, set off, and at the expiration of eight days, arrived at a convenient place, where they built a hut, in which they lived for some time tolerably well; but fish failing them, and having no success in hunting, they were almost starved. In this situa

tion, said the chief, the bad spirit had entered into the heart of Janvier, and he being the strongest man, sup ported hunger better than his companions, by which he was enabled soon after to effect a diabolical purpose he had formed of killing the first Indian who should come in his way, and which he had declared he would do. In the height of their distress, Janvier perceived a savage at some distance, with a load at his back, and instantly returning to the hut, told his poor dispirited partners of their approaching relief. They instantly got up, though very weak, and came out of the hut as fast as their teeble limbs would allow them. The Indian arrived, took off his load, which was only two otters, and two hares, and gave them to Janvier, who received them with great satisfaction; and when he had skinned them, boiled them in the kettle without cleansing them, so extreme was their hunger. This seasonable relief was

soon devoured, and from the eagerness with which Janvier eat, and the satisfaction which appeared in his countenance when he looked at the savage, the men were in hopes he had forgot the rash determination be had formed, and flattered themselves his mind was not so depraved as to entertain a thought of doing an injury to the man whose timely assistance had saved their lives The next morning the Indian told them he was sorry he could not assist them further, having no ammunition, but that he was going to Mr. Fulton for a supply.

Janvier's heart being inexorable even to the kindness he had received, he desired the savage to assist him in placing a large log of wood on the fire, as his companions were unable to do it. The Indian cheerfully com plied, and stooping to take it up, Janvier knocked him down with an axe, and dragged him to the door of the hut, cut him up, and with the most unfeeling barbarity, put as much of the flesh of his deliverer into the kettle

as he thought sufficient for a meal. When it was dressed, he compelled Francois St. Ange, and Louis Dufresne to partake of it, and obliged them to kiss the cross which hung at his breast, and swear by all the saints never to reveal the transaction; threatening at the same time, that if they did, they should share the same fate. Intimidated by his threats, and the certainty that he would fulfil them, they solemnly promised perfect compliance with his injunctions. Having overcome their first aversion, which extreme hunger had occasioned, they ate immoderately of the horrid meal, and soon after fell sick, with violent retchings. During their indisposition, they complained to each other softly, that it was eating the Indian's flesh that had occasioned their sickness: Janvier overhearing them, called them fools and rascals, and asked them if they were afraid the savage would come to life again; and with an insolent sneer desired them to tell him which they thought the best part of a man? The poor fellows only replied they were very sick and could not tell the cause. In a few days (having no other provision) the Indian was eaten up, and Janvier determined to have human flesh, if no other could be obtained. To this end he sought an opportunity to quarrel with St. Ange-Dufresne not daring to interfere in the dispute. Janvier, willing, however to appear as plausible in the eyes of Dufresne as possible, widened the breach very artfully, till pretending he was no longer able to contain his anger, asked Dufresne if he did not think St. Ange deserved the Indian's death, for daring to say he would reveal the circumstance he had so solemnly sworn to concea!. Dufresne, dreading the consequences of differing with him in sentiment, said he thought St. Ange was to blame; upon which reply, Janvier immediately struck him with axe, and killed him: he then cut him up, and boiled a part, of which he obliged Dufresne to partake, he not daring to shew any reluctance. Fortunately for Dufresne the weather became more moderate, and having caught plenty of fish, they proposed to return to their master. Janvier, intoxicated with the idea of his superiority, obliged Dufresne to drag him in an Indian slay to Mr. Fulton's house-a cruel imposition upon him, and a dreadful service to a weak, emaciated man! but

knowing he was unable to resist, he made a virtue of necessity, and obeyed the tyrant with seeming cheerfulness. On the journey he was frequently reminded of his oath, and the fatal consequences that would attend him if he should ever divulge the secret, which Janvier assured him would produce instant death.

Our readers probably will be happy to hear, that this genuine Son of Hell was brought by his master to confession, and from thence to condign punishment.

INDIAN GRATITUDE.

WE now change the picture, and from scenes of

cruelty, turn to pleasing instances of better principles and feeling. The following is from President Dwight's Travels, from whose interesting Journal we have several times, previously, enriched this volume.

"Not many years after the county of Litchfield began to be settled by the English, a strange Indian came one day into an inn, in the town of Litchfield, in the dusk of the evening, and requested the hostess to furnish him with some drink and a supper. At the same time, he observed, that he could pay for neither, as he had had no success in hunting, but promised payment as soon as he should meet with better fortune. The hostess refused him both the drink and supper, called him a lazy, drunken, good-for-nothing fellow, and told him, that she did not work so hard herself to throw away her earnings upon such creatures as he was. A man, who sat by, and observed that the Indian, then turning about to leave so inhospitable a place, shewed by his countenance that he was suffering very severely from want and weariness, directed the hostess to supply him what he wished, and engaged to pay the bill himself. She did so. When the Indian had finished his supper, he turned to his benefactor, thanked him, and assured him that he should remember his kindness, and whenever he was able, would faithfully recompense it. For the present, he observed, he could only reward him with a story, which, if the hostess would give him leave, he wished to tell. The hostess, whose complacency had been recalled by the prospect of pay

ment, consented. The Indian, addressing himself to his benefactor, said, 'I suppose you read the Bible.' The man assented. "Well,' said the Indian, the Bible say God made the world; and then he took him, and looked on him, and say "it's all very good." Then he made light; and took him, and say 'it's all very good.' Then he made dry land and water, the sun and moon, and grass and trees; and took him, and looked upon him, and said, "it's all very good." Then he make beasts, and birds, and fishes, and took him, and looked on him, and say, "it's all very good." Then he made man, and took him, and looked on him, and say, "it's all very good." Then he made woman, and took him and looked on him, and he no dare say one such word.' The Indian having told his story, withdrew.

He

Some years after, the man who had befriended him, had occasion to go some distance into the wilderness, between Litchfield and Albany, then a frontier settlement, where he was taken prisoner by an Indian scout, and carried to Canada. When he arrived at the principal settlement of the tribe, on the southern border of the St. Lawrence, it was proposed by some of the captors that he should be put to death. During the consultation, an old Indian woman demanded, that he should be given up to her, that she might adopt him in the place of a son, whom she had lost in the war. was accordingly given to her, and lived through the succeeding winter in her family, experiencing the customary effects of savage hospitality. The following summer, as he was at work in the forest alone, an unknown Indian came up to him, and asked to meet him at a place which he pointed out, upon a given day. The prisoner agreed to the proposal, but not without some apprehensions that mischief was intended him. During the interval, these apprehensions increased to such a degree, as to dissuade him effectually, from fulfilling his engagement. Soon after, the same Indian found him at his work again, and very gravely reproved him for not performing his promise. The man apologized awkwardly enough, but in the best manner in his power. The Indian told him that he should be satisfied, if he would meet him at the same place on a future day,