whale fishery numerous are the accidents which Captain Scoresby's volume records. In one instance, part of a crew having been cast upon the ice, they could not be got off for fifty hours, and the limbs of many were mortified by the intensity of the cold. The surgeon amputated thirty-five in one day. In Captain Scoresby's vessel two men were lost, one washed overboard, and the other having struck a whale, the rope became entangled with his arm, and he was carried down by the monster into the deep in less than a second of time, at the rate of nine miles an hour, to an immense depth he had not time for the least exclamation, and the person whose eye was fixed upon him could scarcely distinguish the object as it disappeared.

Dangers and privations like these demand some reward, and if it be found at all, it is when the Greenland seaman steers his ship after a successful voyage to his home, and forgets in the society of those whom he loves most dearly, the hardships he has undergone.

Such a prospect doubtless often animated the mind of Captain Scoresby in his exertions, and he probably counted the day which would restore him again to the bosom of his family, and when his spirits would be brightened by their welcome.

While in the Mersey, he enquired of several who came on board, of the health of his family, but, either really or feignedly, they were ignorant of their wel fare: by constant enquiry, and

without success, his feelings became absorbed in an anxiety, of which, he says, the remembrance throws my whole frame into a tremor! At length a boat approached, he took the glass and saw the face of a friend; hope beamed in his mind: but still there was some peculiarity in the conduct of the passenger; the sail was taken down and the men lay upon their oars; the boat approached under the influence of the tide only; no encouraging action or word as formerly, the harbinger of good news; he thought they had not seen him, and showed himself at the gangway; but then their averted countenances were indeed indicative of sorrow; he says I could no longer sustain the agony of feeling which uncertainty rendered intolerable, I called out, "Is all well?" A languid and evasive look sunk me in depair; I could no longer support myself on the deck; I rushed into my cabin.— In a few minutes my friend was in my presence. I saw him struggling with himself, and about to endeavour by a well-meant circumlocution, to break the dreadful tidings he had to communicate. "Let me know," cried I, "the worst, tell it me at once." He grasped my hand with the fervour of friendship, while the tear of sympathy gushed from his eyes. "I am sorry-," my agony obliged him to speak out," Mrs. Scoresby is no more.'

Who can foresee the pitfalls which await us in this life? the rocks of disappointment upon which our hopes so often split?

13. Memoirs of a Captivity among the Indians of North America, from childhood to the age of nineteen. By John D. Hunter.

The author of this work gives several respectable references for the truth of his general statement; but for this, the phraseology and sentiments in many places have an air more finished than could be expected from a person who had spent his whole life without education among savages, and had not seen a white person till within the last two or three years. This, however, is most probably the injudicious correction, and perhaps addition of his literary assistant. The references which he gives are, Colonel Aspinwall, consulgeneral of the United States to Great Britain, Mr. Troppan, 69, Fleet-street, Robert Walsh, Esq. editor of the National Gazette, and Colonel Duarre, editor of the Aurora, Philadelphia, Dr. Waterhouse, Boston, Dr. Mitchell, Dr. Hosack, and Mr. Sullivan of New York, Professors Patterson and Patter of Baltimore.

With regard to his captivity he

states,

"I was taken prisoner at a very early period of my life by a party of Indians, who, from the train of events that followed, belonged to, or were in alliance with the Kickapoo nation. At the same time two other white children, a boy and a small girl, were also made prisoners.

"I have too imperfect a recollection of the circumstances connected with this capture, to attempt any account of them; although I have reflected on the subject so often, and with so great interest and intensity, under the

knowledge I have since acquired of the Indian modes of warfare, as nearly to establish at times a conviction in my mind of a perfect remembrance. There are moments when I see the rush of the Indians, bear their war-whoops and terrific yells, and witness the massacre of my parents and connexions, the pillage of their property, and the incendious destruction of their dwellings. But the first incident that made an actual and prominent impression on me, happened while the party were somewhere encamped, no doubt shortly after my capture; it was as follows: The little girl, whom I before mentioned, beginning to ery, was immediately despatched with the blow of a tomahawk by one of the warriors; the circumstance terrified me very much, more particularly as it was followed by very menacing motions of the same instrument, directed to me, and then pointed to the slaughtered infant, by the same warrior, which I then interpreted to signify, that, if I cried, he would serve me in the same manner."

The Indians generally separate their white prisoners; and a party leaving the main body, took the boy with them, and Mr. Hunter never saw him again.

Settlers upon the Western frontiers are most liable to the attacks of the Indians, who, however they may for a time appear peaceably disposed towards them, regard them only as intruders upon their hunting ground, and generally sooner or later execute some act of exterminating vengeance upon them.

Mr. Hunter passed from the Kickapoos to the Kansar, and was adopted by a female of the

tribe, for whom he appears to have entertained strong filial affection, and felt much gratitude. His step-mother died, and he was led by circumstances into the tribe of the Osages, where he was afresh adopted into a new family, and great attention shown him.Speaking of his new step-mother, he says, "this good woman, whose family now consisted of herself, her husband, a daughter almost grown, and myself, took every opportunity, and used every means which kindness and benevolence could suggest, to engage my affections and esteem. She used to weep over me, tell me how good her son had been, how much she loved him, and how much she mourned his loss. You must be good,' she would say, and you shall be my son, and I will your mother.' The daughter in many respects imitated the mother; and the greatest care was taken to supply my wants with the choicest things they could bestow. They made and ornamented mockasins and leggings for me, and furnished me with a beaver cap and buffalo robe; habiliments not usually worn by the Indian boys. In fine, so constant and persevering were their attentions, and so kind and affectionate their care of me, that not to have loved and esteemed them, would have argued a degree of ingratitude and apathy of feeling, to which, if I know myself, I then was and shall ever remain a stranger."

be

Soon after he became possessed of a rifle, and as he used it in the chace with great success, the Indians gave him the name of the Hunter, which he ever after retained.

Whether or no the tale be a

true one, the representations of North American Indian scenery, animale conomy, and manners, are probably correct; and with this view we extract them. The following is a vivid portrait of uncultivated Nature:

"These prairies are generally undulating and rich in their hollows; but, receding from these, they gradually become sterile, and terminate either in sandy or clay ridges. The margins of this ri ver, and of the streams generally flowing into it, for an extent of from one to three miles in breadth, are covered with thick and large growths of cotton, wood, ash, sycamore, elm, various kinds of walnut, and many other trees and shrubs common to the Western States.

"But so variable are the features of this section of country, and so totally disconnected with its future reclaimance and improvement were my views, when I visited it, that any attempt on my part to a particular description, would be the extreme of folly, and not merit any consideration. In fact, many years, if not centuries, must elapse, before a correct account of this extensive district can be attained. Travellers may pass over and write volumes upon it; but Indian titles have to be extinguished, forests planted, and roads formed, before any satisfactory and circumstantial information, as connected with the purposes of civilized life, can be arrived at: suffice it to say, that no person unacquainted with this vast extent of country, and the fertility of a large portion of its soil, can form any idea of the luxuriance of its vegetable productions, or of the

immense

observe its motions, I silently loaded my rifle, and then creeping softly round the trunk of the tree, saw my formidable enemy resting on a considerable branch, about thirty feet from the ground, with his side fairly exposed. I was unobserved, took deliberate aim, and shot it through the heart. It made a single bound from the tree to the earth, and died in a moment afterwards. I reloaded my rifle before I ventured to approach it, and even then not without some apprehension. I took its skin, and was, with the assistance of fire and smoke, enabled to preserve and dress it. I name this circumstance, because it afterwards afforded me a source for some amusement: for I used frequently to array myself in it, as near as possible to the costume and form of the original, and surprize the herds of buffalos, elk, and deer, which, on my approach, uniformly fled with great precipitation and dread."

"In the fall of the year, when the prairie grass is dry, the prairies are sometimes set on fire by accident, and at others by design. Should the wind be high on these occasions, no spectacle can surpass them in grandeur and sublimity. A space as far as the eye can reach, is seen devastated by the igneous torrent. In some places the tortuous flames, comparatively lost in distance, appear to smoulder beneath impervious columns of smoke; at others they burst into the skies with the vividness and rapidity of lightning, and seem to threaten universal desolation. Their speed is that of the winds, and destruction betides every living thing that cannot outfly its course. The

1823.

grazing herds, conscious of the threatened calamity, fearlessly congregate with their natural enemies; and the buffalos, elks, deer, panthers, wolves, and bears, are seen promiscuously crowded together. They sometimes escape to the ravines and avoid death, but more frequently they are overwhelmed by the resistless flames. One of these fires raged to a very great extent a few years since, on the prairies, between the Kausar and Arkausar rivers; and it is extremely painful, on passing over them, to witness the ruin it produced. The mass of bleached bones strewed on the earth is astonishingly great; and no doubt remains that many thousand buffalos, and other animals, perished at this particular period."

“A Frenchman, who was in the habit of trading among the Indians, took, among other articles, a quantity of gunpowder; but the Indians were supplied by the disposal of most of their furs to other traders, and reserved their remaining stock for the purpose of purchasing other necessaries with them. The Frenchman, however, having sold nearly all his goods, except this powder, and fearing lest it should remain on his hands, had tried every artifice to induce them to barter with him for it, but without succeeding, until Indian curiosity afforded him the opportunity of selling it. Among other ingenious questions they asked him how the white people made powder? The hope of finding a ready market for the black dust' at an advantageous price, immediately set to work his powers of invention. He told them "the white people sowed it in fields like they did wheat or tobacco