entertain. In that new land, to which death was but the threshold,
their pursuits were the same in character, though greater in degree, as
those in which they here engaged. There they would be welcomed by the
brave warriors of a former day, and engage still in fierce contests with
hostile tribes. There they would enjoy the delights of the chase through
spirit forests, deeper and more gigantic than those through which they
wandered in life. Theirs was the Valhalla to which the brave alone were
admitted, and among whose martial habitants would continue the same
emulation in battle, the same stoicism in suffering, as in their
forest-world. Such was the character of their simple religion, which
created in their breasts that heroism and fortitude, in danger or in
pain, that has with one accord been attributed to them.

But despite their valour and resolution, the contest, with such
disparity of numbers, must needs be brief. Bacon pursued each advantage
which he gained with relentless vigour, ever and anon cheering his
followers, and crying out, as he rushed onward to the charge, "Don't let
one of the bloody dogs escape. Remember, my gallant boys, the peace of
your firesides and the lives and safety of your wives and children.
Remember the brave men who have already fallen before the hand of the
savage foe."

Faithful to his injunction, the overwhelming power of the whites soon
strewed the ground with the bodies of the brave savages. The few who
remained, dispirited and despairing, fled through the forest from the
irresistible charge of the enemy.

Meantime the unfortunate Giles had recovered from the swoon into which
he had fallen, and began to look wildly about him, as though in a dream.
To the fact that the contending parties had been closely engaged, and
that from this cause not a gun had been fired, the old negro probably
owed his life. With the superstition of his race, the poor creature
attributed this fortunate succour to a miraculous interposition of
Providence in his behalf; and when he saw the last of his oppressors
flying before the determined onslaught of the white men, he fervently
cried,

"Thank the Lord, for he done sent his angels to stop de lion's mouf, and
to save de poor old nigger from dere hands."

"Hallo, comrades," said Berkenhead, when he espied the poor old negro
bound to the tree, "who have we here? This must be old Ochee[37]
himself, whom the Lord has delivered into our hands. Hark ye," he
a