ong the
narrow trail in single file. They saw the prostrate form of the poor,
sick white man, and immediately gathered around him. The rifle of
Crockett, and the powder and bullets which he had, were, to these
Indians, articles of almost inestimable value. One blow of the tomahawk
would send the helpless man to realms where rifles and ammunition were
no longer needed, and his priceless treasures would fall into their
hands. Indeed, it was not necessary even to strike that blow. They had
but to pick up the rifle, and unbuckle the belt which contained the
powder-horn and bullet-pouch, and leave the dying man to his fate.

But these savages, who had never read our Saviour's beautiful parable
of the good Samaritan, acted the Samaritan's part to the white man whom
they found in utter helplessness and destitution. They kneeled around
him, trying to minister to his wants. One of them had a watermelon. He
cut from it a slice of the rich and juicy fruit, and entreated him to
eat it. But his stomach rejected even that delicate food.

They then, by very expressive signs, told him that if he did not take
some nourishment he would die and be buried there--"a thing," Crockett
writes, "I was confoundedly afraid of, myself." Crockett inquired how
far it was to any house. They signified to him, by signs, that there
was a white man's cabin about a mile and a half from where they then
were, and urged him to let them conduct him to that house. He rose to
make the attempt. But he was so weak that he could with difficulty
stand, and unsupported could not walk a step.

One of these kind Indians offered to go with him; and relieving
Crockett of the burden of his rifle, and with his strong arm supporting
and half carrying him, at length succeeded in getting him to the log
hut of the pioneer. The shades of night were falling. The sick man was
so far gone that it seemed to him that he could scarcely move another
step. A woman came to the door of the lowly hut and received them with
a woman's sympathy. There was a cheerful fire blazing in one corner,
giving quite a pleasing aspect to the room. In another corner there was
a rude bed, with bed-clothing of the skins of animals. Crockett's
benefactor laid him tenderly upon the bed, and leaving him in the
charge of his countrywoman, bade him adieu, and hastened away to
overtake his companions.

What a different world would this be from what it has been, did the
spirit of kindness, manifested by thi