THE FRONTIER ANGEL.



this, and the settlers never allowed themselves fully
to give way to an undue sense of security. But,
unless a most unexpected triumph should crown the
struggles of the Indians, there was little occasion for
apprehension upon the part of the whites.
  The time on which we visit this village, is an even-
ing in the spring, toward the close of the last
century. The night is dark and cloudy, and the
houses are invisible in the deep gloom; but there are
numerous twinkling lights in the different dwellings,
which give it the appearance of a constellation set
in the vast sky of darkness around. Broad fields of
cleared land stretch for a long distance into the back-
ground, while there are numerous other dwellings
further eastward, toward Pittsburg, and many cabins
further westward in Ohio and Virginia; so that they
are not without neighbors, and may properly be said
still to be in the land of civilization.
  Near the western end of the village, stood a large
frame house, in t' e loAwer story of which a bright
light was burning. Within, and seated around a
large, crackling fire, were four individuals engaged
in conversation. The first was a pleasant, middle-
aged man, rather portly and good-natured; the
second was his wife, a few years younger, with an
equally pleasant face, and a cheerful, musical voice.
Upon the opposite side of the fire sat a young man,



IO