"Cake's all dough with us, for the present," said the mate. "Our neighbor will have a chance now to try him a while. Roll up sail, and be ready at your oars, in case he turns to windward."

Out shot three boats, armed to the teeth, from under the Grand Turk's lee, and sped away swiftly towards the giant prey. The scene became in the highest degree exciting to us, as they drew nearer at each vigorous stroke of the paddles; even our breathing was suspended when the boatsteerer in the leading boat rose to his feet. Our enthusiasm was not unmixed with a feeling of vexation; for, after all our weary chasing and dodging, the prize was to be taken by another ship's crew, who, until now, had been lookers on.

"He's fast!" cried half a dozen voices at once, as the iron was launched with the full power of a strong arm. A dash of "white water" flew high in air, and the fast boat started ahead with a sudden jerk, at racehorse speed, while her consorts took to their oars for a stern chase.

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We may as well go aboard, now, and look for another," was the word that passed among us. There was one consolation-we should not have far to pull: for the Janus was already luffing to the wind, and five minutes would take us alongside.

But up went a signal at the Grand Turk's gaff, and our ship again filled away, running down to close with her. What could be wanted? was now the question. Something, or such a time would not have been chosen for signalling a consort to come within speaking distance.

"Hurrah! here he comes, right at us!" sung out the boatsteerer, who was standing erect in the head of the boat. The whale, after running a short time on the wind, had turned short about, and was now coming on a beeline which would bring him right through the gauntlet of our little fleet. Only one boat was fast, as yet, and the supporting boats, though pulling their best, were fast being left astern, as the monster rushed on, lashing the sea into fury, and snorting forth his blasts with a sound not unlike the ring of a brass kettle, as only a whale of the right species can do.

Up and down with frantic haste went signals from both ships, the "pointers" at the mastheads were waved eagerly in the direction of the fast whale, and we were not long in making out, what we had half divined

already, that our help was wanted to make a sure thing of the conflict. We knew already that the mate of the Grand Turk was off duty from sickness, and that she was thereby weakened by the loss of her crack whaleman. Old Captain Jeffreys was superannuated, and did not lower himself. He had hailed our captain, and agreed to "throw chances together" and share the proceeds. The signals, of course, were for us to attack.

Affairs wore a new face at this discovery. From mere spectators, we were at once fired with all the eagerness of principals, as we spread ourselves in open order to meet the whale "head-and-head." A slight deviation from his course brought him in the second mate's favor, and it was evident that the waist-boat would have the honor of drawing the next blood.

It was a most critical moment for her crew when the tortured whale dashed past them, for he was throwing his flukes in air with a malicious sweep, as if feeling for his enemies. But Mr. Terry was not the man to hesitate. Besides, if he hesitated to wait for a better time in, he was destined to an inglorious stern chase. It was emphatically now or never.

"Dart, Jack!" we heard him shout to his boatsteerer. We saw the iron flash, and the next instant we could see nothing but a cloud of white spray which filled the air. But we heard an ominous crash, and, as the "white water" cleared away, the whale had vanished, and the waist-boat, nearly full of water, and minus two of her oars, was still riding gallantly in the slick, with her crew all safe. Her line was spinning out rapidly at the chocks, with a peculiar humming noise which tells of a high degree of friction round the loggerhead; and the boat-buckets were doing their duty manfully in throwing out the superfluous water.

"Are you badly stove ?" was our first hail. "Ono!" answered Mr. Terry, cheerfully, "only cracked a streak or two, and broke a couple of oars-that's all."

"That's your good luck, then," muttered the mate. "The whale meant worse than that, when he swung for ye. Pull ahead, now, us, and stand by for the next chance when he breaks water."

But again he laughed at our calculations; for he came up just out of reach, and started off directly in the wind's eye, at a rate which baffled the efforts of the officers in

the fast boats to haul up sufficiently near for using their lances. The rest of us had nothing for it but hard pulling, which barely sufficed to keep us at a respectful distance in the wake of the whale, who still appeared to retain his full vigor, having as yet received no serious wound.

It was plain to be seen that the young third mate of the Grand Turk, in command of the boat which had first struck, was highly excited and indignant at the course taken by Captain Jeffreys in offering us half the whale to assist in his capture. Ambitious of distinguishing himself, he performed herculean labors in endeavoring to haul up to the whale. We could hear him urging his crew to exertion, and could even distinguish the language, much more forcible than chaste, which he employed to enforce his orders. After a time, the speed of the whale had somewhat slackened, exhausted as he necessarily was by his rush to windward; and, still hauling and holding on at every slaut, the young man had approached with his boat to within about fifteen fathoms of his mark. But, despairing of success in his efforts to get fairly abreast the whale's life, he now determined to try a shot with his gun. If he could put a bomb into him, quartering," he might sicken him, so as to make him bring to, and so eager was he to accomplish this, before any other boat should have a chance to divide with him the honors of the day, that he showed almost the recklessness of insanity, in all his acts and speeches.

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The whaling-gun, used for shooting the bomb-lance, is a short heavy instrument of the blunderbuss style, which is raised to the shoulder for firing. The lance itself is a cone or rather pointed cylinder of cast-iron, containing a heavy charge of powder, with which a fuse is connected. The firing of the gun ignites the fuse, which explodes the bomb after it has entered the whale; the time being usually regulated to ten or fifteen seconds.

Young Randall, the third mate, had put his gun carelessly under the head-sheets of the boat, with the hair-trigger set; a delicate arrangement, which required scarcely more than a feather's weight to start it. At the moment that he deemed most favorable, he suddenly stooped for his gun, at the same time inciting his men with loud voice and fierce gesture to continue their efforts. While still lying back at my oar, I natur

ally kept my face turned so as to see over my shoulder, and was looking directly at Mr. Randall when he stooped to grasp his gun. A quick report followed. I could see no more of him, he had dropped out of sight; but a cry, not of enthusiasm, but of horror, rose from the crews of both the fast boats.

My God! he's shot himself!" cried Mr. Cathcart, with blanched cheeks and starting eyes.

In a moment more we were alongside of the boat, for his crew had of course, instantly cut the line by which they were attached to the whale. The unfortunate young officer was just breathing his last in a pool of his own blood, the cylinder of iron having passed completely through his body, as also through the side of the boat, which was of half inch cedar board. In his eagerness he had carelessly turned the gun muzzle toward him, while pulling it out from under the head-sheets, and a slight touch had started the hair-trigger. A glance was enough to satisfy us that we could be of no service; and while the boat, bearing the corpse of the youth, who but a moment before was so full of ambition and physical vigor, made her melancholy way on board, we continued in pursuit of the whale, which had held on his course, with our second mate's boat still in tow. But he soon showed signs of fatigue, and slacking up his pace, we were not long in overtaking him. Mr. Terry had got his boat freed of her dead weight of water, and had already given him a mortal wound before our irons were thrown. Other reinforcements quickly arrived, and with heavy hearts and hushed voices we took our prize in tow, and started on our return. Both ships had their flags at halfmast, and their topsails hanging in mourning festoons, as soon as the whale was secured; and nearly the whole of both crews were assembled on the maindeck of the Grand Turk, to pay the last sad offices to the mangled body of young Randall.

With bowed heads we joined in the rude services pertaining to a sailor's burial by his shipmates, and then turned away to our duties, the same rough adventurers as before, though a little chastened at heart for the time being. To the soldier or seaman, who may be said to hold his life in his hand, impressions of pain or sorrow seem to be like those of childhood, evanescent and quickly forgotten.

"WE shall have a visit from the Indians before night," remarked my grandmother, looking across the breakfast-table at grandfather.

"Well, I hope we will," replied grandfather, a little doggedly. "You are eternally predicting an Indian raid, and, just to please you, I hope we shall get a call from at least a hundred."

You may

"Look out, Peter Barnes! have cause to regret that speech before you are half a day older. I dreamed last night just how they came, what they did, what we did, and it makes my blood run cold to think of it."

Grandfather made no reply, realizing that she had always had the better of him in argument, and the meal was finished in silence.

A year before, my relatives, both of whom were nearly fifty years old, but strong and hearty, sold out their farm in Ohio, and located in Western Kansas. Their children were all married off, and the old couple were entirely alone. They had a stout and comfortable log cabin, a good farm, and had already made many improvements.

The location was not thought to be a dangerous one, although a few miles beyond the last hamlet in that section, and three miles in advance of the location of the previous settler. The Indians had raided his part of the country the year before, but the soldiers had given them a severe rebuke, and it was not believed that they would dare venture back again. Grandfather was certain that he would not be interrupted in his peaceful pursuits, and was annoyed that grandmother should croak of evil.

More because it was the custom, than from any idea that he would ever have use for it, grandfather kept a rifle in the house; and one day, when a settler who was owing him money, and could not pay, brought a revolver to him as the only offset he could offer, grandfather took it, and laid it up on a shelf.

In her young days, grandmother had been an emphatic "romp." She could

skate, play ball, pitch quoits, ride at a gallop, shoot a rifle, and even to the day she was married went by the name of "Bailey's Tomboy" yet, after all, she made a good wife, and was the " making" of Peter Barnes.

She stood in the door that morning and watched Peter bring out his horses and plow, and drive off through the fields to his work, half a mile away. Then she looked to the west, back at the sun, and went in and took the rifle down from its hooks. It had been loaded for months, and she drew the bullet, carefully wiped the barrel, and loaded the weapon again as nicely as a hunter could have done it. Placing it in a corner, she went to an old chest, fished out powder, lead, caps and bullet moulds, and soon had fifteen or twenty shining bullets on the table. Then the revolver was got down, cleaned up, loaded, and finally the woman went to the door to look for her husband.

She could see him following the plow in the distant field, and the happy songs of the birds were anything but harbingers of a coming affray in which more than one of those shining bullets would find a human target.

"Peter Barnes, you are an idiot!" spoke the woman, watching him a moment. "I don't want harm to come to a hair of your head, but you will get a fearful lesson before noon this day!"

The arms being in good order, the woman shut the north door, nailed it up, and then nailed boards over the two windows on the inside. The south door fastened with a bar, and she was satisfied with its strength. She went to the spring, filled two pails with water, picked up and carried in the axe, and then cleared the table of dishes, not stopping to wash them. Then she sat down in the south doorway and waited-waited for the Indian attack which she had dreamed of and predicted.

An hour passed, and she had not changed her position. Half an hour more wore away, and then she suddenly leaped up and seized her rifle. She had seen the horses stop and begin to rear and plunge as they

came near the south end of the field, which was fringed by the forest. She saw her husband pulling at them and using the wbip, but in a moment more the animals dashed off at full speed. Just as they started, grandmother heard a faint "Yi! yi!"' and the next moment caught sight of a score of savages as they dashed out of the woods and made for her husband.

"Just exactly as I dreamed," she whispered to herself, lifting the rifle clear of the floor.

Grandfather caught sight of the redskins as soon as they broke cover, and he wheeled and made for the house at his best pace. For a few rods he held his own, but then his fifty years commenced to tell on him, and the shouting Indians began to gain. They were thirty rods behind at the start, but before half the distance to the house had been traversed, they were not ten rods behind.

"Run, father! run for your life!" shouted grandmother, waving her hand to him; and he did his best.

But the old man did not have it in him. He was within rifle-shot of the door, when the redskins bore him down to the grass, right in plain sight of his wife. Five or six of them halted to take care of the prisoner, and the rest, whooping and yelling, made for the house. Grandmother stood square in the door, and the rifle was slowly lifted. When the foremost savage was twenty rods away, out on a line went the barrel, there was a quick report, and the Indian fell forward on the grass. Then she stepped back, closed the door, and the next moment the shouting demons jumped against it. The door stood like a rock. Baffled and disappointed, the Indians hacked at the boards with their tomahawks, as if to hew their way in. Striking away, one of the blows fell on a knot in the plank, and the knot fell at the woman's feet, while a hole as large as a man's fist was left in the door. Encouraged by this, the Indians were chopping away, when grandmother seized the revolver, took swift aim, and a horrible yell mingled with the report. The Indians then fell back to where they had left their prisoner, and were out of range.

Grandfather had his arms tied behind him, and after a few minutes, walked out a few feet in advance of his captors. He looked at the house, then looked back, and refused to obey the command given him.

The Indians advanced, drew their tomahawks, and then the captive shouted:

"Nancy! Nancy! unbar the door, leave the rifle in the house, and come out here. They wont hurt you!"'

The wife heard every word of it, and the trembling tones of the old man's voice made her heart ache. But she knew that the Indians had forced him to make the appeal, and that it was only a ruse for them to get another prisoner. She made no reply, and directly the redskins forced the old man to speak again.

"Nancy!" he called, "the Indians say that if you don't come out they will murder me right here."

It was the hardest struggle of her long life, but grandmother realized that both would certainly be murdered if she complied, and that if she held out, there was hope that help might come from immigrants or hunters before night. Tears came to her eyes, and she could not choke down her sobs as she thought of her husband's fate; but she was determined to resist to the last. As she did not reply, one of the Indians, who could speak English quite well, stepped out and shouted:

"Come, hurry up, quick! You no come out, we kill old man!"

"Peter Barnes," shouted grandmother, her mouth at the knothole, "I know that you don't want me to come out, and I shall not come! I have the rifle and revolver, and I shall defend the house to the last! Be on your watch for a chance to break away and run to the house."

The Indians understood sufficient of the speech to know that the woman did not propose to surrender, and they gathered around the prisoner and held a consultation. At length, leaving two of their num-. ber to guard him, the others, fifteen in all, made a detour, and collected on the north side of the house. They had no arrows, to fire the house from a distance, but gathered brush and piled it against the north door to force the woman to come out.

She had no loopholes on that side, but going up stairs, she softly removed a strip of "chinking" from between two of the logs, thrust through the hand holding the revolver, and, shooting by guess, badly wounded one of the savages. With a great whooping and yelling, the rascals drew out of range and held another consultation. In a few minutes they all reappeared on the

south side, gathered about grandfather, and directly struck a course for the woods from which they had first issued, grandfather being led along behind. The woman watched them with the greatest anxiety, believing that they had abandoned the siege, and that she would never see her husband again.

She waited and watched for about half an hour, and was just thinking of opening the door, when a faint whooping reached her trom the woods. A moment after, grandfather came flying across the fields, waving his hands to her as soon as leaving the woods. Two or three minutes later, the Indians burst out of the woods in full cry, but were forty rods behind the fugitive. Grandmother realized that an escape had been made, and she laid down the revolver and stood ready to open the door. As the fugitive got within twenty rods, being then thirty rods ahead of pursuit, she began to unbar the door. She had only touched it, when some one leaped against it not one, but four or five. Finding it fast, the savages, for such they were, set up a howl of rage and retreated out of range. "Grandfather" was standing still, about fifteen rods from the door, and the woman did not have to look twice to see into the game. One of the Indians had donned the prisoner's clothing, jammed the familiar hat over his forehead, and the pursuit was all a sham. Before he left the woods, four or five Indians had made a detour and softly approached the house, so as to be ready to leap in when the bar came down from the door. It was not grandmother's wit, but their own haste in leaping out, which had prevented the capture of the house and her death.

The savages then tried another plan. They brought the old man out of the woods, naked except his shirt, tied him to a wild plum tree just out of rifle range of the house, and then set about maltreating him, hoping to work on the woman's sympathies. Grandmother could see every movement made, and she was nearly crazed to see them assault the old man with knives and clubs. They pricked him until he was covered with blood, though not seriously wounded in any spot, and, cutting a number of switches from the hazel bushes, they whipped him until all were tired with the sport. The old man groaned a little, but they could not make him cry

out as they hoped to do; and in his heart he hoped that grandmother would not be imprudent enough to attempt any interference. Her heart big with sympathy and distress, and her eyes full of tears, the woman allowed the savages to get ahead of her. Several of them moved back out of the range of the knothole, skulked around to the north side of the cabin, and grandmother's first intimation of their presence was when she heard the crackling of flames in the brush which they had previously piled against the north door. As soon as the flames were lighted, the savages drew off a few rods and commenced shooting at the spot over the door where she had pulled out the chinking to shoot at them before. Notwithstanding the whistling of the balls which every moment came through into the garret, the woman mounted the ladder with a pail of water, dashed the contents out through the crevice, and mere accident guided the dash so that the flames were dowsed out.

Two hours had passed since the first appearance of the Indians; grandmother had killed one and wounded others, and such a firing and yelling had been kept up that the redskins were fearful that help might come to the woman, and therefore they withdrew. She counted them as they went away, to be sure that none were left behind. They took the dead one on their shoulders, and the wounded were assisted along each between two of his companions. They entered the woods, and after an hour had passed without their reappearance, grandmother realized that all danger to her was over. She opened the door, took a scout around the house, and then her eye fell upon the horses. The animals had made a long run when first taking fright, going across the fields for a mile or more, and were now coming towards the house, dragging a portion of the plow after them. In ten minutes the woman was galloping towards the nearest settlement, carrying both rifle and revolver. A ride of an hour brought her to the hamlet, and seven or eight men quickly mounted their horses and returned with her. The cabin had not been disturbed, and leaving their horses there, the men, headed by the anxious and tireless woman, took up the trail of the Indians. Following it for an hour, nearly always on the run, they suddenly heard the report of rifles, followed by whoops and yells.