ll cheered the dog, that, dastard-like, fled before the
infuriated animal, who, seemingly despising such an enemy, again threw
himself upon me. Again did I succeed in throwing my arms around his
antlers, but not until he had inflicted several deep and dangerous
wounds upon my head and face, cutting to the very bone.

"Blinded by the flowing blood, exhausted and despairing, I cursed the
coward dog, who stood near, baying furiously, yet refusing to seize his
game. Oh! how I prayed for Bravo! The thoughts of death were bitter. To
die thus in the wild forest, alone, with none to help! Thoughts of home
and friends coursed like lightning through my brain. At that moment,
when Hope herself had fled, deep and clear over the neighboring hill,
came the baying of my gallant Bravo! I should have known his voice among
a thousand. I pealed forth in one faint shout, 'On Bravo, on!' The next
moment, with tiger-like bounds, the noble dog came leaping down the
declivity, scattering the dried autumnal leaves like a whirlwind in his
path. 'No pause he knew,' but, fixing his fangs in the stag's throat, he
at once commenced the struggle.

"I fell back completely exhausted. Blinded with blood, I only knew that
a terrible struggle was going on. In a few moments, all was still, and I
felt the warm breath of my faithful dog, as he licked my wounds.
Clearing my eyes from gore, I saw my late adversary dead at my feet, and
Bravo, 'my own Bravo,' as the heroine of a modern novel would say
standing over me. He yet bore around his neck a fragment of the rope
with which I had tied him. He had gnawed it in two, and, following his
master through all his windings, arrived in time to rescue him from a
horrible death.

"I have recovered from my wounds. Bravo is lying at my feet. Who does
not love Bravo? I am sure I do, and the rascal knows it--don't you,
Bravo? Come here, sir!"

PERILOUS ESCAPE FROM DEATH.

In the narrative of Moses Van Campen, we find the following incident
related. He was taken prisoner by the Seneca Indians, just after
Sullivan's expedition in the Revolution, on the confines of the white
settlements in one of the border counties of Pennsylvania. He was
marched through the wilderness, and reached the headquarters of the
savages near Fort Niagara. Here he was recognized as having, a year or
two previously, escaped, with two others, from his guard, five of whom
he slew in their sleep with his own hand.

[Illustration]

On this