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Updated: June 25, 2025
The eyes of the lovely Blanche rested on the form of Esock Mayall, when his first glance met hers, which was often and still oftener as the rose bloomed brighter on her cheek, her breath grew quicker, her smile more radiant, and the first blue flower of love bloomed into fondness for the young hunter, as he gazed upon her rounded waist, her snowy neck, ornamented with a shower of curls that fell loosely upon her shoulders.
Not meeting with anything of importance, the fourth day they encamped within five miles of the Indian chief's wigwam. After feasting on some ducks they had killed along their road, they all laid down to rest from the toils of their journey, and all but Esock slept soundly.
Esock Mayall came with all possible speed from the creek, where he had killed the young bear that passed him, to rescue his young wife, the three arriving at the same time. When within about twenty feet of the cottage they saw the flash and heard the loud report of a gun, and all was hushed to silence.
Esock Mayall, son of the adopted white chief, now advanced from the chief's tent, with his bride leaning on his left arm, arrayed in all the glory of Indian simplicity, followed by the Indian chief and the adopted chief, Wolf-hunter, young Mayall's father. As the young couple advanced to the centre of the ring the two chiefs closed up the space.
Esock Mayall and the Indian chief rose from their restless beds and finished dressing their bears, and got the wagon and goods, with his father, mother and the three children that wore on the opposite side of the creek, over to the cottage, whilst the young bride was preparing their breakfast.
As she approached Mayall, Esock Mayall was standing in a position that brought her in full view from her head to her feet. He was struck with a strange, mysterious spell. Her neck was as pure as the alabaster, her bosom as white as ivory, her soft blue eyes like liquid orbs adorning the face of beauty, whilst her fair hair flowed in graceful ringlets upon her neck and shoulders.
Esock Mayall stood as one amazed as he viewed the beautiful figure before him, dressed in a neat flowing dress that came down to her feet, covered with wampum and such beautiful moccasins, embroidered with the quills of the porcupine, with a border of the same around the bottom of her flowing dress.
After viewing the wonders of Nature, Esock Mayall was returning to the wigwam along the path of flowers, when that wood-nymph, the chief's daughter, appeared before him, gentle as the ring-dove. And the glory of youth clung around her, I felt her ambrosial breath on my cheek Like the scent and perfume of wild roses. She seemed to appear in all the beauty of innocence.
Esock Mayall's mother, three children, himself and young bride, started early for their home in the wilderness, whilst the Indian chief who was to accompany them to their new home and enjoy the Indian summer in the forest, and spend the hunting season with them, traveled on foot with the elder Mayall, and piloted out the best route for the wagon, removing such obstructions as they found in the path.
After a weary march of several days they arrived at their forest home, and were warmly greeted by the elder Mayall and his learned and accomplished wife, who received them more warmly on account of some good books Esock Mayall had purchased for his mother, to repay her for his early education, which she had superintended in her own cottage, when her husband was absent on the chase.
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