om my sight in the fog. To stay where I was would
only lead to my certain destruction, for when the Indians returned, as I
knew they would, to carry off my scalp, the trail to my hiding-place
would at once be discovered. I felt, too, that if I allowed my wounds
to grow stiff, I might not be able to move at all. Suffering intense
agony, therefore, I dragged myself down into the stream. It was barely
deep enough to allow me to swim had I had strength for the purpose, and
crawl I thought I could not. So I threw myself on my back, and holding
my rifle, my powder-flask, and revolver above my breast, floated down
till I reached the wood we had just passed. The branches of the trees
hung over the stream. I seized one which I judged would bear my weight,
and lifting myself up by immense exertion, of which, had it not been for
the cooling effects of the water, I should not have been capable, I
crawled along the bough. I had carefully avoided as much as possible
disturbing the leaves, lest the redskins should discover my retreat. I
worked my way up, holding my rifle in my teeth, to the fork of the
branch, and then up to where several of the higher boughs branched off
and formed a nest where I could remain without fear of falling off. I
was completely concealed by the thickness of the leaves from being seen
by any one passing below, and I trusted, from the precautions I had
taken, that the Indians would not discover my trail. Still, such
cunning rogues are they, that it is almost impossible to deceive them.
My great hope was that they might not find out that I had fallen, and so
would not come to look for me. As I lay in my nest, I listened
attentively, and thought that I could still hear distant shots, as if my
friends had at all events not given in. Still it might only have been
fancy. My wounds, when I had time to think about them, were very
painful. I bound them up as well as I could--the water had washed away
the blood and tended to stop inflammation. The sun rose high in the
heavens. Not a sound was heard except the wild cry of the eagle or
kite, blending with the song of the thrush and the mocking-bird,
interrupted every now and then by the impudent observation of a stray
parrot and the ominous rattle of a huge snake as it wound its way among
the leaves. Every moment I expected to hear the grunts and cries of the
redskins, as with tomahawk in hand they came eagerly searching about for
me. I durst not move t