This water fell from the upper regions of the hill, upon a flat
projecture which was continued on either side, and on part of which I
was now standing. The path was bounded on the left by an inaccessible
wall, and on the right terminated, at the distance of two or three feet
from the wall, in a precipice. The water was eight or ten paces distant,
and no impediment seemed likely to rise between us. I rushed forward
with speed. My progress was quickly checked. Close to the falling water, seated on
the edge, his back supported by the rock, and his legs hanging over the
precipice, I now beheld the savage who left the cave before me. The
noise of the cascade and the improbability of interruption, at least
from this quarter, had made him inattentive to my motions. I paused. Along this verge lay the only road by which I could reach the
water, and by which I could escape. The passage was completely occupied
by this antagonist. To advance towards him, or to remain where I was,
would produce the same effect. I should, in either case, be detected. He
was unarmed; but his outcries would instantly summon his companions to
his aid. I could not hope to overpower him, and pass him in defiance of
his opposition. But, if this were effected, pursuit would be instantly
commenced. I was unacquainted with the way. The way was unquestionably
difficult. My strength was nearly annihilated; I should be overtaken in
a moment, or their deficiency in speed would be supplied by the accuracy
of their aim. Their bullets, at least, would reach me. There was one method of removing this impediment. The piece which I held
in my hand was cocked. There could be no doubt that it was loaded. A
precaution of this kind would never be omitted by a warrior of this hue. At a greater distance than this, I should not fear to reach the mark. Should I not discharge it, and, at the same moment, rush forward to
secure the road which my adversary's death would open to me? Perhaps you will conceive a purpose like this to have argued a
sanguinary and murderous disposition. Let it be remembered, however,
that I entertained no doubts about the hostile designs of these men. This was sufficiently indicated by their arms, their guise, and the
captive who attended them. Let the fate of my parents be, likewise,
remembered. I was not certain but that these very men were the assassins
of my family, and were those who had reduced me and my sisters to the
condition of orphans and dependants. No words can describe the torments
of my thirst. Relief to these torments, and safety to my life, were
within view. How could I hesitate? Yet I did hesitate. My aversion to bloodshed was not to be subdued but
by the direst necessity. I knew, indeed, that the discharge of a musket
would only alarm the enemies who remained behind; but I had another and
a better weapon in my grasp. I could rive the head of my adversary, and
cast him headlong, without any noise which should be heard, into the
cavern. Still I was willing to withdraw, to re-enter the cave, and take shelter
in the darksome recesses from which I had emerged. Here I might remain,
unsuspected, till these detested guests should depart. The hazards
attending my re-entrance were to be boldly encountered, and the torments
of unsatisfied thirst were to be patiently endured, rather than imbrue
my hands in the blood of my fellowmen. But this expedient would be
ineffectual if my retreat should be observed by this savage. Of that I
was bound to be incontestably assured. I retreated, therefore, but kept
my eye fixed at the same time upon the enemy. Some ill fate decreed that I should not retreat unobserved. Scarcely had
I withdrawn three paces when he started from his seat, and, turning
towards me, walked with a quick pace. The shadow of the rock, and the
improbability of meeting an enemy here, concealed me for a moment from
his observation. I stood still. The slightest motion would have
attracted his notice. At present, the narrow space engaged all his
vigilance. Cautious footsteps, and attention to the path, were
indispensable to his safety. The respite was momentary, and I employed
it in my own defence. How otherwise could I act? The danger that impended aimed at nothing
less than my life. To take the life of another was the only method of
averting it. The means were in my hand, and they were used. In an
extremity like this, my muscles would have acted almost in defiance of
my will. The stroke was quick as lightning, and the wound mortal and deep. He had
not time to descry the author of his fate, but, sinking on the path,
expired without a groan. The hatchet buried itself in his breast, and
rolled with him to the bottom of the precipice. Never before had I taken the life of a human creature. On this head I
had, indeed, entertained somewhat of religious scruples. These scruples
did not forbid me to defend myself, but they made me cautious and
reluctant to decide. Though they could not withhold my hand when urged
by a necessity like this, they were sufficient to make me look back upon
the deed with remorse and dismay. I did not escape all compunction in the present instance, but the tumult
of my feelings was quickly allayed. To quench my thirst was a
consideration by which all others were supplanted. I approached the
torrent, and not only drank copiously, but laved my head, neck, and
arms, in this delicious element. Chapter XVIII. Never was any delight worthy of comparison with the raptures which I
then experienced. Life, that was rapidly ebbing, appeared to return upon
me with redoubled violence. My languors, my excruciating heat, vanished
in a moment, and I felt prepared to undergo the labours of Hercules. Having fully supplied the demands of nature in this respect, I returned
to reflection on the circumstances of my situation. The path winding
round the hill was now free from all impediments. What remained but to
precipitate my flight? I might speedily place myself beyond all danger. I might gain some hospitable shelter, where my fatigues might be
repaired by repose, and my wounds be cured. I might likewise impart to
my protectors seasonable information of the enemies who meditated their
destruction. I thought upon the condition of the hapless girl whom I had left in the
power of the savages. Was it impossible to rescue her? Might I not
relieve her from her bonds, and make her the companion of my flight? The
exploit was perilous, but not impracticable. There was something
dastardly and ignominious in withdrawing from the danger, and leaving a
helpless being exposed to it. A single minute might suffice to snatch
her from death or captivity. The parents might deserve that I should
hazard or even sacrifice my life in the cause of their child. After some fluctuation, I determined to return to the cavern and attempt
the rescue of the girl. The success of this project depended on the
continuance of their sleep.