TheDolphinreached Detroit that evening, did not stop, but slowly passed the city, which extends six or seven miles along the river, then on down the stream, the captain pointing out historical scenes, now on this side now on that.
They were already on Lake Erie before the older ones retired for the night, passed Put-In-Bay and discussed with interest Perry's victory of September 10, 1813, though, as all were familiar with the details of the famous contest and triumph for the little American navy, the story was not repeated.
"How many islands are there in the group, papa?" Grace asked, as they neared them; "and to which State do they belong?"
"There are ten," he said, "and they are a part of Ottawa township, Ohio. The group takes its name from the largest one, which contains about two thousand acres. You can see there is a beautiful bay on this north side: that is Put-In-Bay—it is what gives the name to the island and is celebrated as the place where Captain Perry with his little United States fleeton Lake Erie, in the last war with Great Britain, of which we have been talking so much in the last few days, waited for the coming of her fleet, and whence he sailed out to meet and conquer it.
"It required great address and vigilance to make his little squadron ready and get it into the lake, but spite of illness, head winds, and being narrowly watched by the foe, he got safely out upon the lake just as the British squadron hove in sight."
"Perry had difficulty in getting his vessels over the bar, had he not, sir?" asked Walter.
"Yes; it was done by the use of camels; a very difficult operation."
"Camels, papa?" exclaimed Grace, with a puzzled look.
"Yes, daughter; not the camels of the desert, however," returned the captain, giving her a slightly amused smile.
"Nautical camels are hollow cases of wood, made in two halves, so as to embrace the keel and lay hold of the hull of a ship on both sides. Those cases are first filled with water and sunk, in order to be fixed on. The water is then pumped out, and while that is being done the vessel gradually rises; and that process is continued till at length it passes over the shoal."
"Perry must certainly have been a very persevering and energetic man," remarked Mrs. Travilla.
"He certainly was all that and more," returned the captain; "a brave, patriotic, Christian man. It has been truly said that the courage with which theLawrencewas defended has been hardly, if ever, surpassed; and that his real claim to fame rests less on his actual victory than on the pluck, energy, and readiness to adapt himself to circumstances, which he showed in the preparation of the two brigs and getting them and the other vessels out in the lake, collecting sailors, etc. But it is singular that the American public have always made so much more of his victory over an inferior force, than of McDonough's on Lake Champlain, which was won against decided odds in vessels, men, and metal."
"Oh, papa!" cried Lucilla, in a slightly reproachful tone, "you are really the last person I should have expected to try to belittle Perry's hard-won victory."
"My child, I am not doing that," returned her father in gentle, reproving accents. "I would not have Perry's fame lessened, but McDonough's increased."
"Excuse me, papa dear, I might have known that," she responded penitently.
"What is the name of that little island lying at the mouth of the bay, captain?" queried Evelyn.
"Gibraltar," he replied; "it is picturesque and rocky, and on it stands the monument commemorating the victory and its heroes."
"I should like to visit the island one of these days," said Grace.
"I hope to give you that pleasure at some future time," her father said; "but now it is growing so late in the season that we must hasten on our way if we would make even a flying visit to other and more interesting and important points. The islands are worth visiting; the scenery is lovely, and there is excellent boating, also fishing, in the clear, shallow waters of the bay and lake."
"All that sounds quite appetizing," saidViolet. "I think we might be able to pass some days or weeks there very delightfully when not hurried for time."
"There are a great many fine grapes raised here, are there not?" asked Evelyn.
"Yes; grape growing and wine making are the principal industries; the climate and soil being better suited to them than is any other in the Union; or rather, I should say, on the Atlantic slope. Another item of interest is a cave of considerable dimensions."
"Papa," asked Grace, "how long did that battle of Lake Erie last?"
"Three hours and a quarter. It was a sanguinary fight, ending in a splendid victory for Perry, who was about twenty-seven years old, and had never before borne part in a naval engagement."
"Yes, it was sanguinary; the carnage was terrible," said Mr. Dinsmore. "What harrowing scenes there must have been!"
"Some comical ones, too," remarked Walter, with a chuckle. "I have read somewhere that Perry's first lieutenant, Yarnall, came to him during the fight and told him that all the officers of the first division were either killed or wounded. I don't know that he mentioned himself among them, but it was very evident that he had been hurt, for his face was covered with blood from a wound in his forehead, his nose dreadfully swollen by a blow from a splinter, and there was another wound in his neck."
"He must have been a brave and persevering fellow to go on fighting with all those hurts," said Grace. "But what was it he wanted of Perry?"
"More men to help with his part of the fight; and Perry let him have them. But soon he came back on the same errand, and that timePerry had to refuse. 'You must make out by yourself; I have no more to furnish you,' he said. And now he could not help smiling at Yarnall's appearance, for in addition to his swelled nose and the blood on his face he was covered with cattails from the hammock mattresses that had been struck and torn by the enemy's balls; they were sticking all over his face and gave him much the aspect of a great owl. When he went below after the fight was over, even the wounded men had to laugh at his comical and hideous appearance."
"I remember reading of the narrow escape that fell to the lot of the second lieutenant," said Rosie, when Walter had finished his little anecdote, "he was standing close beside Perry, fighting his division, when a grape-shot struck him in the breast, and he fell. Perry lifted him up, and as there was no wound to be seen, told him to rally, for he could not be hurt. He was only stunned into momentary unconsciousness, and when able to speak, said, pulling out the shot, which had lodged in his waistcoat, 'No, sir! I'm not hurt, but this is my shot.'"
"Yes," said Captain Raymond, "more than one man was shot and killed while speaking to Perry. One was the captain of the gun whose tackle had been shot away. Perry stepped nearer to him to see what was the matter. 'Ican fire, sir,' the sailor said, and was in the very act of doing so when a twenty-four-pound shot struck him, passed through his body, and he fell dead at Perry's feet."
"But Perry escaped unwounded, though freely exposing himself to danger when necessary for the performance of duty," remarked Grandma Elsie. "I have read that he said that he believed his wife's prayers had saved him; I have no doubt that his mother's helped him, for I have read that she was a Christian woman, and had brought him up in the fear of the Lord. His young brother too—only twelve years old—escaped wonderfully, shots passing through his clothes and hat, a hammock torn from its fastenings by a ball knocking him down, and yet no wound being made."
"Lieutenant John Brooks, a handsome young fellow, was another officer shot while speaking to Perry," said Captain Raymond, "struck in the thigh by a cannon ball that drove him some distance. It was a terribly painful wound, so that he shrieked with agony, and besought Perry to shoot him dead. Perry ordered him carried below, and while that was being done a mulatto boy, his servant, rolled on the deck, crying out that his master was killed. He had been acting as powder boy, and being ordered to return to his duty did so with thetears rolling down his cheeks all the time at the thought of his master's suffering!"
There was a moment of silence, broken by Grace.
"Oh, what a dreadful thing war is!" she sighed. "I hope we will never have another. I think nothing could be worse."
"How about submission to despotism, Gracie?" asked Walter. "What sort of condition would this country be in now had not our ancestors waged those two wars with Great Britain?"
"Oh, yes! they were right on the side of America, dreadful as they were," she acknowledged, "the choice being between fighting for freedom or enduring unbearable oppression."
"That is true," he said; "better death than slavery; and had we tamely submitted, instead of resisting as we did, we could never have become the strong, free people that we are."
"And we may well, even yet, thank God for Perry's victory," said the captain; "it led to the immediate evacuation of Detroit and the release of the whole of Michigan Territory from British sway, with all the horrors of Indian atrocities, murder, scalping, and fire. Also it wiped away the disgrace of Hull's ignominious surrender of Detroit, strengthened the hands of the Government, and gave great encouragementto General Harrison and his brave and patriotic soldiers; indeed, to all who were fighting for our country on both land and sea. Harrison had completed his arrangements for invading Canada, and Perry's vessels were used in carrying his army there. That is, theNiagaraand the lighter vessels of both squadrons.
"One of the measures Harrison had taken for raising the needed complement of troops had been a call upon Governor Shelby of Kentucky, for fifteen hundred men, accompanied by the generous offer to yield the chief command to him, Shelby to be the guiding head and Harrison himself the hand.
"Shelby was one of those who had battled for his country in the days of the Revolution; one of the leaders of the militia who defeated the banded Tories under Major Ferguson on King's Mountain, South Carolina, on the 7th of October, 1781. His valor was conspicuous on that occasion, and he had since been familiarly styled Old King's Mountain."
"A very old man in 1813, I suppose," said Grace.
"Sixty-three," replied her father. "In these days we would hardly consider a man of that age extremely old, though certainly not young. Young enough, however, for Harrison's invitationto rouse his martial spirit to such an extent that he resolved to lead, instead of sending his men against the enemies of his country. He called for mounted volunteers to assemble at Newport, opposite Cincinnati, at the close of July, promising to meet them there in person, lead them to the field of battle, and share with them the dangers and honors of the campaign.
"That call seemed to electrify the people of Kentucky. Young men and veterans vied with each other in enthusiasm, exchanging urgent calls to rally to the defence of their country, for Old King's Mountain would certainly lead them to victory. Twice the required number of men flocked to his standard, and, including Colonel R. M. Johnson's troop, he led 3500 in the direction of Lake Erie.
"On the 12th of September he reached Upper Sandusky, from there he pushed forward with his staff, and on the way heard the glad tidings of Perry's victory. He despatched a courier with the news to Major-General Henry, whom he had left in command of his troops, bidding him hasten forward with them.
"They, and the whole country as well, were greatly inspirited, filled with joy and exultation by the glad tidings; for that victory relieved the whole region of the most gloomy forebodings of evil, leading, as it did, to thedestruction of the Indian confederacy, which, in conjunction with the British military power, had been the cause of so much awful suffering and loss to men, women, and children suffering by fire, sword, tomahawk, and scalping knife, and removing the stigma of the surrender of Detroit.
"That victory was one of the most important events of the war, opening the way for Harrison's army to penetrate into Canada and to our repossession of the territory of Michigan. Also removing all doubts of the ability of the Americans to maintain the mastery of the great lakes.
"A poet of the time concluded an epic with these lines:
"'And though Britons may brag of their ruling the ocean,And that sort of thing, by the Lord I've a notion—I'll bet all I'm worth, who takes it?—who takes?Though they're lords of the sea, we'll be lords of the lakes.'
"'And though Britons may brag of their ruling the ocean,And that sort of thing, by the Lord I've a notion—I'll bet all I'm worth, who takes it?—who takes?Though they're lords of the sea, we'll be lords of the lakes.'
"Well, to go on with my story, by the 16th the whole army of the Northwest, except the troops garrisoning Fort Meigs and minor posts, were on the borders of Lake Erie. Shelby arrived there on the 14th, only a few minutes before a part of Perry's squadron came in, bringing three hundred British prisoners. A few days later they were marched to Chillicotheand Franklinton, escorted by a guard of Kentucky militia.
"And now Harrison made preparations to embark his army. Colonel Johnson was directed to remain at Fort Meigs with his mounted regiment till the expedition should sail, then march toward Detroit, keeping as nearly as possible abreast of the army on the transports, and General M'Arthur, at that time in command of Fort Meigs, was directed to embark artillery, provisions, and stores from that post, and march the regulars there, with Clay's Kentuckians, to the Portage.
"It was on a delightful day, the 20th of September, that the army embarked. On the 24th they rendezvoused on Put-in-Bay Island, and the next day were on the Middle Sisters, five thousand men encamping on its six or seven acres."
"A good many horses besides, I presume," remarked Walter.
"No," said the captain, "the Kentuckians left their horses on the peninsula and were acting as infantry.
"On that day General Harrison and Perry sailed in theArielto reconnoitre the enemy at Malden. They were entirely successful, and returned at sunset. An order was issued that evening, giving directions for the embarkingof the troop, stating the place and manner of landing, the order of march, the attack upon the enemy, and other particulars.
"The order, signed by General E. P. Gaines, exhorted his brave troops to remember that they were the sons of sires whose fame was immortal; that they were to fight for the rights of their insulted country, while their opponents would combat for the unjust pretensions of a master. 'Kentuckians,' he said, 'remember the River Raisin, but remember it only while victory is suspended. The revenge of a soldier cannot be satisfied upon a fallen enemy.'
"It was on a lovely autumnal day, September 27, that the expedition finally set sail, in sixteen armed vessels and almost one hundred boats. They were all in motion at nine o'clock, going northward toward the hostile shore, and then Harrison's stirring address was read to the men on each vessel. At its conclusion there went up a hearty shout for 'Harrison and victory'; then all moved on silently into the Detroit River. Lossing tells us the spectacle was beautiful and sublime.
"The landing place selected by Harrison and Perry was Hartley's Point, opposite the lower end of Bois Blanc Island, and three or four miles below Maiden. A low, sandy beach stretched out in front of high sand drifts,behind which the enemy were supposed to be lying in wait, and our troops landed in battle order—Kentucky volunteers on the right, regulars on the left, Ball's Legion and the friendly Indians in the centre.
"But no enemy was there. The cowardly Proctor, in spite of the indignant remonstrances of Tecumseh, had fled northward with his army and all he could take with him; leaving Fort Maiden, the storehouses, and navy buildings smoking ruins. Beside that, he had seized all the horses of the people of the neighborhood to help him in his flight."
"The poor people! poor, abused creatures!" exclaimed Grace, adding, "and probably they were much frightened lest the Americans should treat them still worse."
"If so, their fears were soon relieved," replied her father; "for as our troops drew near the town, Governor Shelby in advance, they were met by a troop of modest, well-dressed women, who came to implore mercy and protection. The kind-hearted general soon calmed their fears.
"The army moved on and entered Malden with the band playing 'Yankee Doodle.' They learned that the enemy's rear guard had not been gone an hour, and Colonel Ball at once sent an officer and twenty men of his cavalryafter them to prevent the destruction of a bridge over the Tarontee. They were just in time to save it, driving the incendiaries off with a single volley.
"The next morning Harrison crossed it with all his army, excepting a regiment of riflemen left at Amherstburg. At two o'clock on the 29th they entered Sandwich, and the American flotilla reached Detroit, which, you will remember, is opposite, on the western side of the river of the same name. The next day Colonel Johnson and his mounted regiment arrived there."
"Were not the British still in possession of Detroit, papa?" asked Lucilla.
"No; M'Arthur, with seven hundred effective men, had crossed over shortly before and retaken the town, driving off a body of Indians who were hovering about it. Also General Harrison had, to the great joy of the inhabitants, declared Proctor's proclamation of martial law null and void, and the civil government of Michigan restored.
"On Johnson's arrival he received an order from Harrison to cross the river at once with his troops, as he (Harrison) was resolved to push on after the enemy as rapidly as possible. There were two roads, either of which might be taken in the pursuit—by land in the rear ofthe British, or by Lake Erie to Long Point, and thence across the country. Harrison called a council of his general officers to consider the question, and it was decided to take the land route.
"It was said that Proctor was encamped near Chatham on the Thames; so that was the place for which the whole army of the Americans, except M'Arthur's brigade, left at Detroit, and Ball's and Cass', left at Sandwich, marched on the morning of October 2.
"Two days before that Perry had learned that some small vessels carrying the artillery and baggage of the British had gone up Lake St. Clair toward the Thames. He sent some of his vessels in pursuit, followed them in theAriel, accompanied by theCaledonia, and on the day that Harrison left Sandwich the whole of the little squadron appeared off the mouth of the Thames with the provisions, baggage, andammunitionwagons of the American army."
"Had he taken the enemy's vessels?" asked Evelyn.
"No," replied the captain; "they had too much the start of his, and escaped up the Thames. It is said that when the army reached the mouth of that river an eagle was seen hovering above it; and that Harrison remarked tothose about him that it was a presage of success, and Perry, who had landed and was with the general, added the information that an eagle was seen hovering over his little squadron on the morning of the 10th of September."
"The day when he fought his naval battle," remarked Grace. "Don't you suppose, papa, this eagle may have been the very same?"
"I think it quite likely," was the reply.
"And it reminds me of the young gamecock that flew upon a gun-slide on theSaratoga, McDonough's flagship, early in the naval battle of Plattsburg, clapped his wings and crowed so lustily and defiantly," said Walter.
"And me of 'Old Abe,' the eagle present in so many battles of the Civil War," said his sister Rose. "But please go on with your story of the battle of the Thames."
"To go back to the morning of October 2, when Harrison and his troops left Sandwich," continued the captain. "We are told that they pushed on rapidly for 20 miles along the border of the lake, there came upon 7 British deserters who told the general that Proctor, with 700 white men and 1200 Indians was encamped at Dolsen's farm, about 15 miles from the mouth of the Thames, on its northern bank, and 56 miles from Detroit by water. This news roused the Americans to still greaterexertions, and when they halted for a night's rest they had marched 25 miles from Sandwich, their starting point.
"The pursuit was renewed the next morning at dawn, and near the mouth of the Thames Johnson captured a lieutenant and eleven privates, who had just begun to destroy a bridge over a small stream emptying into that river. That made it evident to the Americans that Proctor had heard they were in pursuit of him and they hastened on, hoping to overtake, fight, and defeat him. That night they encamped on Drake's farm, four miles below Dolsen's.
"As the troops moved on, Perry's vessels had passed up the river to cover their movements when they should cross the Thames or its tributaries; but here there was a change in the character of the banks; below the river flowed on between prairies, its channel broad, its current sluggish, but here the country became hilly, the stream narrow and rapid, the banks high and wooded, affording convenient places for Indian ambuscades, from whence shots could be fired down upon the passing vessels below. So it was thought better not to take them any higher up the stream than Dolsen's, and Perry landed and offered hisservicesto Harrison as volunteer aid; so joining the army in the exciting pursuit of the foe.
"The cowardly Proctor—much to the disgust of Tecumseh—fled up the Thames 28½ miles fromDolsen'sto Chatham, where an impassable stream called M'Gregor's Creek empties into that river. On reaching the spot he said to Tecumseh, 'Here we will defeat Harrison or lay our bones.'
"Tecumseh was pleased with both the speech and the spot, and remarked that when he looked at these streams he would be reminded of the Tippecanoe and the Wabash.
"Two bridges—one at the mouth of the creek and the other at a mill a mile above, had been partially destroyed, and at each was a party of Indians ready to dispute the passage of the Americans should they attempt to cross or to make repairs; but Major Wood, with two six-pounder cannon, and Colonel Johnson with his horsemen, soon sent them flying after Proctor."
"Was anybody hurt in either fight, papa?" asked Grace.
"Yes; 2 men of Johnson's party were killed, and 6 or 7 wounded. The Indians had a large number wounded and 13 killed. It was here that the chief Walk-in-the-Water with 60 warriors came to Harrison and offered to join his army conditionally. But Harrison had no time to attend to him, so told him if he leftTecumseh, he must keep out of the way of the American army."
"Did he do it, papa?" asked Elsie.
"Yes, he went back to the Detroit River."
"And did the Americans go on chasing the British, papa?"
"Yes, and the British retreating, destroying all they could on the way, firing houses and vessels containing military and naval stores as they went, the Americans following, putting out the fires and saving houses, vessels, stores as far as possible.
"But they did not catch up to the British that night; they encamped and Harrison set a double guard; which was well, for at midnight Proctor and Tecumseh reconnoitred the camp, but did not venture to attack it.
"At dawn the Americans were again in motion, the mounted regiments in front, led by General Harrison and his staff, the Kentucky volunteers under General Shelby following. It was not long before they had captured two of the enemy's gunboats and several bateaux with army supplies and ammunition, and some prisoners.
"It was only nine o'clock when they reached a place where the river was fordable by horses. Harrison decided to cross there and each of the mounted men took an infantryman on his horsebehind him; others crossed in the bateaux, and by noon the whole American army was on the north side of the river."
"I should think they must have been tired," said little Elsie. "Didn't they stop to rest a while, papa?"
"No, indeed," replied her father, stroking her hair and smiling down into the interested little face upturned to his, "they were much too eager to catch and defeat their country's foes. They hastened on as rapidly as possible, passing on their way many evidences of the rapidity of Proctor's retreat.
"It was two o'clock and they were eight miles from the crossing place when they came upon smouldering embers that showed where the enemy's rear guard had been but a short time before. By that they knew they were not far behind the foe, and Colonel Johnson dashed forward to learn their exact whereabouts.
"It was not long before he had captured a British wagoner who told him that Proctor had halted only three hundred yards farther on. Johnson, with Major James Suggett and his spies, moved cautiously on, and found the British drawn up in battle order, waiting for the coming of the Americans.
"He, Johnson, learned enough about their position to enable General Harrison and a councilof officers, held on horseback, to decide upon the best order for the attack. The American army now consisted of a little more than 3000 men—120 regulars of the 27th Regiment, 5 brigades of Kentucky volunteers under Governor Shelby, and Colonel Johnson's regiment of mounted infantry.
"The foe had made choice of a good place to make a stand. On one side was the Thames River, with high and precipitous bank, on the other a marsh running almost parallel with the river. Between the two, about three hundred yards from the river, was a narrow swamp with a strip of solid ground between it and the large marsh. Almost the whole space between the river and the marsh was covered with forest trees—oaks, beeches, and sugar maples, with very little undergrowth.
"The British regulars were formed in two lines between the river and the small swamp; their artillery planted in the road near the bank of the stream. The Indians were posted between the two swamps, those commanded by Tecumseh in person on the isthmus or narrowest point.
"At first Harrison arranged for the horsemen to fall back and let the infantry make the first attack, which would begin the battle; next the cavalry were to charge the British. But when all the preparations were completed MajorWood, who had been reconnoitring the enemy's position, informed Harrison that the British were drawn up in open order, and, though contrary to all precedent, the general immediately decided to change his plan of attack. Instead of having the infantry fall upon the British front he ordered Johnson to charge their line with his mounted troops.
"In explaining his motive for the change, in a report rendered afterward to the Secretary of War, he said: 'The American backwoods men ride better in the woods than any other people. A musket or rifle is no impediment, they being accustomed to carrying them on horseback from their earliest youth. I was persuaded, too, that the enemy would be quite unprepared for the shock, and that they could not resist it.'
"The event speedily proved the wisdom of the decision. The general's orders were promptly obeyed, then a bugle sounded, and the Americans moved coolly forward, neither hesitating nor with undue haste, among huge trees, over fallen timber, and through the undergrowth, those impediments in their path compelling them to move slowly.
"While they were still at some distance from the front line of the British regulars the latter opened upon them with a severe fire, which caused some confusion at the head of thecolumn, the horses of some of them taking fright; and before order was restored there came second volley. Then with a tremendous shout the American cavalry boldly dashed upon the British line and broke it, scattering it in all directions. Then the second line, thirty paces in the rear, was treated in the same way, and the horsemen wheeled right and left, pouring a destructive fire upon the rear of the confused and broken columns, so increasing their panic that they threw down their arms and surrendered as fast as they could.
"Lossing tells us that in less than five minutes after the first shot was fired the whole British force, more than eight hundred strong, were totally vanquished, and most of them made prisoners; only about fifty men and a single officer escaping."
"Ah, that was a victory to be proud of!" cried Lulu. "And what became of the brave Proctor, papa?"
"He fled from the field as fast as his horses would carry him, taking with him his personal staff, a few dragoons, and some mounted Indians. In the words of the old song
"'When Proctor saw lost was the day,He fled La Tranche's plain:A carriage bore the chief away,Who ne'er returned again.'
"'When Proctor saw lost was the day,He fled La Tranche's plain:A carriage bore the chief away,Who ne'er returned again.'
"He was hotly pursued by a part of Johnson's corps under Major Payne."
"I think I remember, though, that they did not succeed in catching him," remarked Rosie.
"No," said the captain; "ten of them continued the pursuit until dark, but could not overtake him."
"Ah, it seems he was better at running away than at fighting," said Walter; "but if I remember right, he had to abandon his fine carriage."
"He did so; left the road and escaped by some bypath," replied Captain Raymond. "So rapid and masterly was his retreat that within twenty-four hours he was sixty-five miles distant from his starting point—the battle ground."
"And the American officers and men got nothing for their long chase, papa?" Grace said enquiringly.
"A trifle more," returned the captain, with a slightly amused look: "Major Wood captured Proctor's carriage, sword, and valuable papers. There were some beautifully written letters from Proctor's wife, in which she addresses him as 'Dear Henry.'"
"'Dear Henry,' indeed!" cried Lucilla scornfully. "I could never love such a coward. Nor—nor such a cruel wretch—delighting inseeing men, women, and children tortured by the savages, if he didn't take part in it with his own hands. But you haven't finished the story of the battle, papa."
"No, not quite. General Henry, with his advancing columns, was hardly in sight of the combatants before that part of the battle was over; but at the same time that one bugle sounded for that attack another was heard on the left. Colonel Johnson and his troops moved against the Indians almost at the same instant that the first battalion—under his brother James and Major Payne—attacked the British regulars. He had divided his force and led them—the second battalion—across the little swamp to attack the Indian left. They were in front of Shelby, with a company of infantry. Harrison had taken a position on the extreme right, near the bank of the river, where he could observe and direct all the movements, and with him were Adjutant-General Butler, Commodore Perry, and General Cass.
"Tecumseh's savages reserved their fire till the Americans were within a few paces of them, then hurled upon them a deadly shower of bullets, wounding General Johnson very severely, and prostrating more than half his vanguard of forlorn hope. On this part of the field the undergrowth and the branches of thetrees were too thick to allow mounted men to do much service with their rifles, therefore Johnson ordered them to dismount and fight on foot at close quarters. They obeyed, and there were many hand to hand fights, the Kentuckians as they fought raising now and again the fearful cry, 'Remember the River Raisin.'"
"What did they mean by that, papa?" asked Elsie.
"I will explain that at another time," he replied. "You may ask for the story to-morrow. And now, to go on with this—for a while it seemed doubtful which side would win; but General Shelby, perceiving it, ordered the regiment of Lieutenant-Colonel Donaldson to the support of Johnson, and General King to press forward to the front with his brigade.
"The Indians had already recoiled from the shock of the Kentucky riflemen, and now they fled; they were pursued and a scattering running fight ended the battle. Proctor was running away as fast as he could, like some hunted wild animal, and his savage allies scattered themselves through the forest behind the larger swamp."
"Tecumseh with the rest, papa?" asked Elsie.
"No, my child, Tecumseh was lying dead on the field of battle. But for his loss it is likelythe Indians would have continued the struggle for some time longer."
"Who killed him, papa?" she asked.
"No one can say certainly," replied her father, "though probably it was Johnson. Tradition and history tell us that Tecumseh had wounded Colonel Johnson with a rifle bullet, and was springing forward to tomahawk him, when Johnson drew a pistol from his belt and shot him through the heart. It is said that Johnson himself never either affirmed or denied that his was the hand which slew Tecumseh. Probably he did not really know whether the Indian he had killed was the great chieftain or some other. However, it is certain that he, Tecumseh, was slain in that battle,—as it seems he had predicted that he would be,—and it is a question of little importance whose hand sped the bullet or struck the blow that ended his career."
There was a moment of silence, broken by Grandma Elsie's soft voice:
"'The moment was fearful: a mightier foeHad ne'er swung his battle axe o'er him;But hope nerved his arm for a desperate blowAnd Tecumseh fell prostrate before him.He fought in defence of his kindred and kingWith spirit most loving and loyal,And long shall the Indian warrior singThe deeds of Tecumseh the royal.'
"'The moment was fearful: a mightier foeHad ne'er swung his battle axe o'er him;But hope nerved his arm for a desperate blowAnd Tecumseh fell prostrate before him.He fought in defence of his kindred and kingWith spirit most loving and loyal,And long shall the Indian warrior singThe deeds of Tecumseh the royal.'
"I presume you are right, captain, in thinking," she added, "that even Johnson himself did not know whether the Indian he had shot was Tecumseh, but as you have just said, the question is of no historical importance. We do know, however, that Johnson behaved most gallantly in the battle of the Thames and was sorely wounded in the hip, thigh, and hand; the last from the Indian whom he shot. He was disabled and said to his friend, Dr. Theobald, one of his staff, fighting near him, 'I am severely wounded: where shall I go?' Theobald, saying, 'Follow me,' led him across the smaller swamp to the road and the stand of Governor Shelby's surgeon-general. Johnson was faint from the loss of blood, and his horse, it would seem, was still more sorely wounded, for as his master was lifted from his back he fell dead."
"Oh, did the man die too, grandma?" asked little Elsie, with a look of eager interest and concern.
"No, dear; they gave him water, dressed his wounds, and carried him on board a vessel they had taken from the British. Captain Champlin, the commander of theScorpion, was there on it; he took the colonel down the river in that vessel to his own, lying at Dolsen's, and from there, in her, to Detroit."
"Papa, did he get well and go back and fight some more?" asked Ned.
"No, my son; he went into Congress and served his country well there. But now it is high time for you and Elsie to go to your berths. Bid us all good-night; to-morrow you may ask as many questions as you please, and papa will answer them to the best of his ability."
The wind had risen while Captain Raymond was talking, and now began to blow briskly, bringing with it an occasional dash of rain; a state of affairs that presently sent the whole party into the cabin, and a little later they had all retired to their staterooms but the captain and his two older daughters, who lingered a few moments for the bit of chat with their dearly loved father of which they were so fond.
"Do you think we are going to have a hard storm, papa?" Grace asked a little anxiously, as she came to him to say good-night.
"I hope not," he said, "do not be anxious; remember, 'the Lord hath his way in the whirlwind and in the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet. He rebuketh the sea and maketh it dry.' Remember, too, that 'the Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; and He knoweth them that trust in Him.'"
"Oh, yes! Thank you for reminding me of those sweet words, father, dear," she returned with a sigh of relief, and laying her cheek affectionately against his as he put an arm abouther and held her close for a moment. "I will trust and not be afraid."
"That is right, daughter," he said; "no real evil can befall us while trusting in Him."
"But, papa, Christians do have great and real distresses sometimes," she returned, with an enquiring and slightly troubled look up into his face.
"Yes, daughter, 'Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.' But 'like as a father pitieth his children so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him;' and He will sustain them under all the troubles that He sends. Remember that His promise is, 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be.'"
"Such a sweet, precious promise, papa!" she said. "I will just put my dear ones and myself in His care, trust in Him, and not lie awake, dreading shipwreck."
"That is what I would have you do, my darling," he returned. "Do not forget those sweet words of Holy Writ: 'The Lord knoweth them that trust in Him,' nor the promise that He will never leave or forsake them. Put yourself into His care and go to sleep untroubled by doubts and fears. Good-night," he concluded, as he kissed her tenderly and let her go.
"And how is it with my dear eldestdaughter?" he asked, turning to Lucilla, who stood near awaiting her turn.
"I am not naturally so timid as Gracie, you know, papa," she answered, smiling up into his face as he passed an arm about her and drew her close to his side, while with the other hand he smoothed her hair caressingly, "and I do believe that God will take care of us all through the instrumentality of my own dear father, who knows so well how to manage a vessel in calm or storm. But you do not think there is much if any danger, do you, papa?" she asked, gazing searchingly into his face, "for you are not looking at all anxious."
"There is a pretty stiff breeze," he said, "and Erie is a stormy lake, owing to the shallowness of its waters, and the consequent liability to a heavy ground swell which renders its navigation particularly difficult and dangerous; but I have passed over it a number of times and do not feel any great amount of anxiety in regard to our safety—if I attend properly to my duty as commander of theDolphin," he concluded, with his pleasant smile. "I must return to the deck, now; so good-night, daughter dear. May you sleep sweetly and peacefully, trusting in the care of your earthly father, and still more in that of your heavenly one."
"Oh, just one minute more, papa," she said entreatingly, as he released her. "I—I want to say that I am afraid that I was—almost, if not quite, a little disrespectful to you once or twice to-day."
"Ah! Well, darling, if you have been, it is entirely forgiven; so go to your bed in peace. I must hurry on deck and cannot wait to talk with you further now."
With the concluding words he hastened away, while she looked after him with eyes full of filial love, then as he disappeared she made her way as quickly as the rolling of the vessel would allow, across the saloon and joined her sister in their stateroom.
There were tears in Grace's sweet blue eyes as she lifted them to her sister's face.
"What, crying, Gracie darling?" Lulu asked, with concern.
"Yes; to think of poor papa out on deck in the wind and rain, while we are so comfortable in here," answered Grace with a sob, pulling out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes. "Oh, I almost wish I were a big, strong sailor, and knew all about managing a vessel, so that I could take his place and have him to his berth to rest and sleep."
"I'm sure I wish I could," sighed Lulu. "He should never have an ache or pain of any kindif I might bear them for him; never be anything but the happiest man in the world if——" but she paused suddenly, while a vivid blush suffused her face. "I have no right to talk so," she added in a remorseful tone, "I, who so often fail to be the perfectly respectful and cheerfully obedient daughter that I ought."
"I really think you judge yourself very hardly, Lu," remarked Grace, with a surprised glance into her sister's face. "You are always perfectly obedient and very affectionate toward our dear father, seeming to take great delight in doing everything you can to please him and add to his comfort; I really do not think he has a child who loves him better or does more for his comfort; no, not even I, who esteem him the very best and dearest father in the world," she concluded, with a look and smile that said more than her words.
"Oh, thank you, Gracie! I do love him dearly, dearly; but as you know I am shamefully quick-tempered and wilful and sometimes look vexed at a reproof or prohibition, then the next minute could beat myself well for it."
"Lu, you never, never are in a passion nowadays!" exclaimed Grace. "I own you do look vexed sometimes for a minute or two, but then it's all over and you are just as sweet and pleasant as anyone could wish. Oh, you arejust the dearest, dearest girl! Ah, you needn't shake your head and look so dolorous," she added, in a playful tone, putting her arms about Lucilla and kissing her with ardent affection.
"Ah, yes, you are all so dear and loving, so ready to excuse my faults," Lulu said, returning the embrace with interest. "No one more so than our dear father, though I well know I have given him more pain and trouble than any other of his children, if not than all put together. Gracie, let us kneel down together and ask God to take care of papa and all of us, and that if it is His will the storm may soon so abate that our dear father can go to his berth and get a good night's rest."
Grace was more than willing, and they spent some minutes in earnest supplication.
In that act of prayer Grace cast all her care upon the Lord, and scarcely had she more than laid her head upon her pillow before she fell asleep; but Lucilla lay for hours listening to the howling of the wind, the sound of the waves dashing against the sides of the vessel, her father's voice occasionally giving an order through the speaking trumpet, and the hurried and heavy tread of the sailors as they hastened to obey. It seemed a worse storm than any she had ever been in upon the water, and almost herevery breath was a prayer for the safety of the yacht with all its living freight—especially her dearly loved father, now exposed to the fury of the wind, waves, and rain—that they might pass through it in safety.
But at last she fell into a deep sleep, and for some hours heard and felt nothing of the storm. Yet it was not over when she awoke; she could still hear the howling of the wind, the rush of the waters, and feel the rolling and pitching of the vessel. But it was daylight, and slipping from her berth with care not to rouse her still sleeping sister, she knelt for a moment of heart-felt thanks to her heavenly Father, that thus far they had weathered the storm, and fervent supplication that the vessel might outride it in safety to the end.
Rising from her knees she made a hasty toilet, then, anxious to learn of her father's welfare, stole from the room, and holding on by the furniture, crossed the saloon, then with some difficulty climbed the cabin stairway and reached the windswept deck.
One glance showed her her father standing at a little distance, giving some direction to a sailor. He did not see her. There was a momentary lull in the wind, and taking advantage of it she started on a run toward him. But just at that moment came another and fiercegust that took her off her feet and swept her toward the side of the vessel.
In another instant she would have been in the water, had her father not turned suddenly and caught her in his arms barely in time to save her from that fate. He held her fast with one arm while he grasped the railing with the other hand, and held on till the gale again moderated for a moment. Then he carried her back to the cabin. They were alone there, for the others were still in their staterooms. He strained her to his breast in silence, and she felt a tear fall on her head.
"Thank God, my darling, precious child is safe in my arms!" he said at last, speaking scarcely above a whisper, pressing his lips again and again to her forehead, her cheek, her mouth.
"And my own dear father saved me," she said in quivering tones, her arms about his neck, her face half hidden on his breast.
"It was a narrow escape, my child," he sighed, repeating his caresses, "a very narrow escape; and what would I have done had I lost my dear eldest daughter? You must not try it again; don't venture on deck again until I give you permission."
"I will not, papa," she returned. "But oh, haven't you been up all night? can't you take some rest now?"
"Not yet; perhaps after a little. There, there, do not look so distressed," smoothing her hair caressingly as he spoke. "You must remember I am an old sailor and used to such vigils. I had a cup of coffee and a biscuit a while ago which quite refreshed me."
"But can't you go to your berth now and take some hours of rest and sleep, papa, dear?" she asked entreatingly, her eyes gazing lovingly into his. "Surely someone among your men must be fit to take charge of the yacht for a while."
"Not just yet, daughter; perhaps before long I can do so. I must leave you now and go back to my duties; and do you go to your stateroom and thank your heavenly Father for your escape from a watery grave."
With that he released her and hurried away up the cabin stairs, she following him with looks of yearning affection till he disappeared from view, then hastening to obey his parting injunction.
Her heart was full of love and gratitude to God for her spared life, and that thus far they had escaped shipwreck, and even as she gave thanks it seemed to her that there was a lull in the storm—the wind almost ceasing to blow and the vessel rocking much less.
"Oh, Gracie," she said, as she rose from herknees and perceived that her sister's eyes were open, "I do think—I do hope that the worst of the storm is over."
"Do you?" cried Grace joyously, hastily throwing back the covering and stepping out upon the floor. "Oh, how glad I am! How good God has been to us all! But where is papa? Has he been up all night?"
"Yes," replied Lulu, "and oh, Gracie, if it hadn't been for him I would be at the bottom of the lake now," she added, with tears of gratitude filling her eyes.
"Why, Lu!" exclaimed Grace in astonishment, "you surely did not venture up on the deck in this storm?"
"I did, and was nearly blown into the lake, but papa caught me, held me fast for a minute, then carried me down into the cabin."
"Oh, Lu! Lu! I hope you will never venture so again! I'd be broken-hearted, and so would papa, and indeed, all the rest, if we lost you in that way. What could I ever do without my dear, big sister?" she concluded, putting her arms about Lucilla and holding her fast in a most loving embrace.
"Oh, but it is nice that you love me so, Gracie, dear," Lulu returned.
"It was very foolish in me to venture on deck in such a gale, but papa did not scold me atall; just held me fast, petting and caressing me as if I were one of his greatest treasures."
"Of course," said Grace. "But didn't he forbid you to try going on deck again before the wind dies down?"
"Yes," acknowledged Lulu. "Oh, I wish he could stay below too. I want him to go to his berth and sleep off his fatigue. He must be very tired after his long night's vigil. But it is nearly breakfast time, and we should be making ourselves neat to appear at the table, looking as papa would have us."
An hour later all had gathered about the table, the captain at the head of it as usual, and looking cheerful and pleasant-tempered as was his wont, though somewhat weary and worn. He reported the storm nearly over, no serious damage done the vessel, nor much time lost. He hoped to be in the Welland Canal before night, and that they would find themselves on Lake Ontario when they woke in the morning.
"And can you not go to your berth for some hours' rest and sleep when you have finished your breakfast, my dear?" queried Violet, with a loving, anxious look into his face.
"Probably; after a short visit to the deck to see that all is going right there. Excuse me, my dear," he added, pushing away his plateand rising to his feet as he spoke. "I must return to my duties at once, but would have everyone else finish the meal at leisure," and with the last word he hurried away.
"My dear papa looks so tired, mamma," remarked little Elsie in regretful tones, "what has he been doing?"
"Staying up all night to take care of us," replied Violet, the tears shining in her eyes. "Don't you think we ought to love dear papa and do all we can to make him happy?"
"Yes, indeed, mamma!" answered the little girl earnestly. "Oh, I hope he can get a good sleep soon so that he will feel rested and well. I was going to ask him to tell me about what happened at the River Raisin. You know our soldiers, in that fight with the British and Indians that he told us about yesterday, called out over and over again, 'Remember the River Raisin,' and papa said he would tell me what it meant if I would ask him to-day. But I can wait till to-morrow," she added, with a sigh of resignation.
"How would it do for grandma to take your papa's place and tell you the story?" asked Grandma Elsie, in cheerful tones, and with a loving, smiling look at the little girl.
"Oh, nicely, grandma! I don't know butyou could do it as well as papa could," answered the child eagerly.
"Ah, dearie, it is a very sad story, and I think I shall have to make it short," sighed Mrs. Travilla; "the details would but harrow up your feelings unnecessarily."
"Bad doings of the British and Indians, grandma?" queried the little girl.
"Yes; it was that, indeed!" said Mr. Dinsmore; "the latter part of the tragedy a terrible slaughter of defenceless prisoners—tortured, scalped, tomahawked, slain in various ways with the utmost cruelty; many of them burned alive in the houses where they lay wounded, unable to move. It was a fearful slaughter which Proctor, far from trying to prevent, rewarded with praise and the purchase of the scalps."
"Oh, wasn't he a very, very bad man, grandpa?" exclaimed little Elsie.
"More of a devil than a man, I should say," exclaimed Walter. "I remember reading an extract from a letter written a few days later, from Fort Maiden, by a Kentuckian to his mother, in which he says, 'Never, dear mother, should I live a thousand years can I forget the frightful sight of this morning, when hideously painted Indians came into the fort, some of them carrying half a dozen scalps ofmy countrymen fastened upon sticks and yet covered with blood, and were congratulated by Colonel Proctor for their bravery."
"But all the British officers were not so cruel, Walter, my dear," said his mother. "I remember the story of the letter to which you refer, and that the writer went on to say that he heard two British officers talking of that scene together; that one of them, whose name, he had been told, was Lieutenant-Colonel St. George, remarked to the other that Proctor was a disgrace to the British army, that such encouragement to devils was a blot upon the British character."
"Oh, please, grandma," cried little Elsie in distress, "I don't want to hear any more of that story."
"No, dear, it is far from being a pleasant one, nor is it worth while to harrow up your feelings with it," returned Mrs. Travilla. "I will try to find some pleasanter one for you and Neddie boy to help you pass the time agreeably while the storm prevents us from enjoying ourselves upon the deck."
With that all rose and left the table to gather in the saloon for morning worship, which, in the captain's absence, was conducted by Mr. Dinsmore.
But the storm was abating so that in anotherhalf hour Captain Raymond felt it safe to leave the deck and retire to his stateroom for much needed rest and sleep, and the others could sit comfortably in the saloon, the ladies with their fancy work, while Grandma Elsie entertained the little folks with stories suited to their tender years.
Walter, too, was one of the listeners for a time, then with his grandfather ventured upon deck to take an observation of the weather and their surroundings. When they returned it was with the cheering report that the storm had evidently spent its fury, the wind had nearly died down, the rain ceased to fall, and the sun was struggling through the clouds.
"Oh, then we can go up on deck, can't we, grandpa?" cried Neddie, in eager tones.
"After a little, sonny," returned his grandpa, sitting down and drawing the young pleader to his knee.
"When my papa wakes up?" queried Neddie, in a slightly disappointed tone.
"Yes, indeed, Ned," said Lucilla, "for though I am so much older than you, papa forbade me to go up there without his permission."
"Why did he, Lu?" asked Elsie in a tone of surprise; "and haven't you been up there at all this morning?"
"Yes, I was, before papa had forbidden me—andwould have been blown into the lake if he hadn't caught me in his arms and held me fast."
"Oh, Lu, tell us all about it!" cried Ned, while the others who had not heard the story expressed their surprise in various ways and asked question upon question.
"There's hardly anything more to tell," replied Lucilla. "I know papa is always on deck early in the morning, and as I wake early too, I have a habit of running up there to exchange morning greetings with him. That was what I went for this time, not at all realizing how hard the wind was blowing, but I had scarcely set foot on the deck when it took my skirts and sent me across toward the spot where papa stood holding on to the railing with one hand, his speaking trumpet in the other. He dropped that in an instant and threw his arm round me." As she spoke she shuddered at the thought of her narrow escape from a watery grave, and her voice trembled with emotion. Controlling it with an effort, "You see," she concluded, "that I owe my life to my dear father, and—and I love him even better than ever, though I thought before that I loved him as much as was possible."
At that Violet dropped her work, went quickly to Lucilla's side, and bending down over her, kissed her with warmth of affection.
"Oh, I am so glad—so thankful that he was able to do it," she said in trembling tones and with tears in her eyes. "Dear Lu, it would have broken our hearts to lose you in that sudden, dreadful way."
"As it would mine to lose you, dear Mamma Vi," returned Lucilla with emotion, putting her arms about Violet's neck and returning her caresses with interest, "for you are so very good, kind, and loving that I have grown very fond of you. And I know it would break papa's heart to lose you, even more than to lose me or all of his children."
"Oh, I hope he may never be so tried! for I know he loves us all very dearly, as we do him," said Violet. "I don't know what any of us could do without him."
The sun was just peeping above the horizon, the yacht moving swiftly and steadily onward as Lucilla stepped from the companion-way upon the deck, the next morning, having obtained permission the night before to do so in case the quiet movements of the vessel made it certain she would run no such risk as she had the previous day.
Her father was pacing the deck, and so near that he took her hand the moment she appeared.
"My early bird, as usual! Good-morning, daughter mine," he said in tender tones as he bent down and bestowed upon her the caress she never failed to receive from him when first they met at the beginning of a new day.
"Good-morning, dear, dear papa, yesterday's saver of my life," she returned, in moved tones, putting her arms about his neck and pressing her lips to his again and again. "Oh, father, surely I belong to you more than ever now!"
"You are my very own, one of my chief treasures," he said, in response to that. "Godbless my darling and have her ever in His kind care and keeping!" He clasped her hand tenderly in his as he spoke, and for a while they paced the deck together.
"Oh, where are we, papa?" she asked, gazing from side to side in eager curiosity. "This wide expanse of water cannot be the Welland Canal?"
"No, we passed through that in the night, and are now in Lake Ontario."
"Oh, I am glad we are so far on our journey," she said, "and the water is so quiet that it seems a very suitable place in which to spend this sweet Sabbath day."
"I think so, if only we try to spend it aright."
"I do intend to," she responded. "And we shall have our usual service in the morning; we younger ones a Bible lesson with papa in the afternoon, won't we?"
"I think so," he said. "I certainly expect to give my own children a Bible lesson, and we will not shut out any who may choose to take a part in it. That would be very selfish, would it not?"
"Yes, sir! yes, indeed! I think so, for you always make a Bible lesson very interesting as well as instructive."
"I am glad my daughter finds it so," he said, smiling down upon her.
They moved silently back and forth for a few minutes, Lucilla apparently in deep thought, her father watching with keen and loving interest the changeful expression of her features.
"What is it, daughter? Of what are you thinking?" he asked at length.
"About the narrow escape of yesterday, papa," she answered, lifting to his a face full of solemn awe. "I was asking myself, as I have many times since my narrow escape of yesterday morning, Was I ready for heaven? Would I have gone there if I had been drowned without time to think and prepare to meet my Judge? Oh, father, can anyone be saved without time to think and repent of every wrong thought and feeling, and asking God's forgiveness for it? And how would it be possible to do all that while struggling for your life?"
"Daughter," he said in tender tones, "are you not forgetting these sweet words of Holy Writ: 'He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life?' Take notice, it is not shall have, buthath. It is not only the sins already committed which God forgives for Jesus' sake when He adopts us for His own, but those also which in His omniscience He sees that we will be guilty of before the work of sanctification is finished. If we are truly His, they are all forgiven in advance. He says: 'I give unto themeternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father which gave them me is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand. I and my Father are one.' In another place he says, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent mehatheverlasting life and shall not come into condemnation; butis passed from death unto life.' The one important question is, are we really His? Have we accepted His offered salvation and given ourselves entirely to Him? If that be so we have no cause for anxiety or fear; for the Lord knoweth them that are His, and will never suffer any real evil to befall them. Death will be but going home to Him, and that with all the sin taken away and we made perfect in holiness, no want of conformity to His holy will left in us."
"Yes, papa, but——"
"But what, daughter?"
"Oh, if I should be mistaken in thinking that I really belong to Him! Papa, how can I know it?"
"Have you any doubt that you are mine?"
"No, indeed, papa, not the slightest."
"But how do you know it?"
"Because you have told me so again andagain; and besides, I have only to look in the glass to see that I have your features, that I resemble you about as much in looks as a young girl can resemble a——"
"Middle-aged man," he added, finishing the sentence for her as she paused with an earnest, loving look up into his face.
"And the Bible tells us," he continued, "that 'Whom He did foreknow He also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of His Son.' If we are really His, we will, in a greater or less degree, resemble Him and will be changed into the same image from glory to glory."
"Do you see anything of His image in me, papa?" she asked anxiously, humbly.
"I am glad, very glad to be able to say that I think I do, daughter," he replied joyously, tenderly. "For years past I have watched you very closely, constantly praying God to bless my efforts to train you up in the way you should go, and bring you to Him, and I am very happy to say that for a long while now I have seen that you were striving earnestly to overcome your faults and live as a true disciple of Christ. And had you been snatched from me in that sudden way, while the loss of my dear child would have been terrible to me, I should not have mourned as those without hope;but should now be looking forward to a happy meeting with you in that blessed land where sin and sorrow and death are unknown."
"Thank you, dear papa, oh, thank you very much!" she said, with emotion. "If I am a Christian it is because you have taken almost infinite pains to make me such, to point me to Christ and lead the way; the way that you made plainer to me than anyone else ever did."
"Give all the glory and praise to God, my darling," he responded, in moved tones. "It has been my daily, earnest prayer, that He would give me wisdom for the work of bringing my children to Him and bless my efforts, and I think my petition has been granted. When you see a work laid to your hands for which you feel incompetent, ask help from on high, remembering and pleading His gracious promise—'If any of you lack wisdom let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering.' Never forget that last clause. God knows the heart, and it will be useless for us to plead with Him a promise which we do not really believe."
"Yes, papa; surely that would be insulting to even a human creature. Oh, pray for me, that I may have strong faith and never, neverdoubt one word of God's promises, or threats either, and that I may be always ready for whatever He sends. Oh, I can never thank Him enough for giving me such a good, kind, praying, Christian father!"
"And I have great reason for gratitude for the dear children he has bestowed upon me," her father responded, pressing the hand he held, "and for the hope that we will spend a blessed eternity together in that land where sin and sorrow are unknown."
"Yes, papa, what a delightful thought that is! and yet I cannot help feeling glad to stay a little longer here in this world. Oh, this is such a lovely morning and the view is as new to me as it is enchanting, for, as you know, in going to Chicago we passed over this part of the route in the night, so that I saw nothing of the scenery."
"Well, I think you may enjoy it to the full to-day," he returned, "and that some time in the afternoon you will get a sight of the Thousand Islands; though, by the way, counting all, big and little, there are fifteen hundred or more."
"Then we won't stop at all of them?"
"Hardly," he answered with a smile. "They fill the river for twenty-seven miles along its course. Most of them are mere rocky islets,covered generally with stunted hemlocks and cedar trees down to the water's edge. Some are square miles in extent and others only a few yards."