A White Man Named T - - , Completely Overpowered By His Fears, Refused To Fire On The Savages, Who Were Within A

Paddle's length of him, but stood up in the canoe, with a loaded musket in his hand, beseeching them by

His gestures to take him prisoner, rather than deprive him of his life. While in the act of making this dastardly appeal, a musket ball from the enemy entered his mouth, and killed him on the spot. The others behaved with the greatest coolness and intrepidity. The fugitives gained on their pursuers, and when they found the chase discontinued altogether, Lander stood up for the last time in the canoe, and being seconded by his remaining associates, he waved his hat, and gave a last cheer in sight of his adversaries. He then became sick and faint from loss of blood, and sank back exhausted in the arms of those who were nearest to him. Rallying shortly afterwards, the nature of his wound was communicated to him by Mr. Moore, a young surgeon from England, who had accompanied him up the river, and whose conduct throughout this disastrous affray was most admirable. The ball could not be extracted, and Lander felt convinced his career would soon be terminated. When the state of excitement to which his feelings had been wrought, gave place to the languor which generally succeeds powerful excitement of any kind, the invalid's wound pained him exceedingly, and for several hours afterwards, he endured with calmness the most intense suffering.

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