The Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley by James Otis
page 135 of 315 (42%)
page 135 of 315 (42%)
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nervously to attract his attention, I sprang upon the newcomer, believing
him to be some Indian straggler whom it was absolutely necessary we should silence in order to save our own lives. So quick had been my motions that the fellow had no opportunity to get away, save at the cost of betraying himself to us, and by what seemed to be the most fortunate chance, I succeeded, when leaping blindly forward, in gripping him by the throat. We went down together, I on top striving most earnestly to strangle him to death, and he fighting quite as strenuously to throw off my hold. Before one could have counted ten I began to realize that this stranger who was at my mercy appeared quite as much afraid of making a noise as did I, and involuntarily my grasp was loosened ever so slightly, for I understood that had it been an Indian he would have done his best to attract the attention of those near the camp-fire. With this thought came the knowledge that I had beneath me one clad much like myself, and not the half-naked body of such villains as marched in Thayendanega's train. Then it was, and just as Sergeant Corney came up to us, that I loosened my grasp entirely in order to pass my hands over the stranger's face and head. There were no feathers, no daubs of paint, which should have been apparent to the touch, and I whispered, with my mouth close to the fellow's ear, while yet pinioning his arms in such a fashion that he could not well move: |
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