While playing in the same place a few hours previous, they had imagined they saw an Indian lurking behind one of the fallen trees. The Indians of the neighborhood were in the habit of making occasional visits to the family, and the children had become familiar and even affectionate with many of them, but this Indian had seemed to be a stranger, and after the first hasty glance they had fled in alarm to the house.
Their mother had chid them for bringing such a report, which she had endeavored to convince them was without foundation. "You know," said she, "you are always alarming us unnecessarily: the neighbors' children have frightened you nearly to death. Go back to your play, and learn to be more courageous."
So, hardly persuaded by their mother's arguments, the children had returned to their sports. Now as they sat upon the trunk of the tree, their discourse was interrupted by what seemed to be the note of a quail not far off.
"Listen," said the boy, as a second note answered the first; "do you hear that?"
"Yes," replied his sister, and after a few moments' silence, "do you not hear a rustling among the branches of the tree yonder?"
"Perhaps it is a squirrel--but look! what is that? Surely I saw something red among the branches. It looked like a fawn popping up its head."
At this moment, the children, who had been gazing so intently in the direction of the fallen tree that all other objects were forgotten, felt themselves seized from behind and pinioned in an iron grasp. What was their horror and dismay to find themselves in the arms of savages, whose terrific countenances and gestures plainly showed them to be enemies!
They made signs to the children to be silent, on pain of death, and hurried them off, half dead with terror, in a direction leading from their home. After traveling some distance in profound silence, their captors somewhat relaxed their severity, and as night approached the party halted, adopting the usual precautions to secure themselves against a surprise.
Torn from their beloved home and parents, in an agony of uncertainty and terror, and anticipating all the horrors with which the rumors of the times had invested captivity among the Indians--perhaps even torture and death--the poor children could no longer restrain their grief, but gave vent to sobs and lamentations.