9298 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
remnant of the emigrants, in full retreat back for the settle- 
ments on Clinch river. : 
“Where is my wife? and where are my children?” je 
manded Smith, in a cold, stern tone, of the person under 
whose command the camp had been left. 
“You will find them where you left them! Ask the Shawa- 
nees; they can tell you the rest.” 
“You have neglected your trust, and they are murdered,” 
Smith replied, in a deliberate but trembling voice. 
“And yet we find you retreating !—where is your man- 
hood, wretch! coward!” he shrieked, as he sprang at the 
throat of the man, and hurled him to the ground with such 
furious violence that the blood gushed from his nose and 
mouth, and he was thought for a long time to be dying. 
Without pausing an instant to see what he had done, the 
unfortunate man turned, and with the speed of the wild deer, 
fled back to the deserted camp. 
Several hours subsequent, Harrod and some others returned 
to look after the dead, and they found Smith stretched upon 
the bodies of Mattie and the children, with his arms spread 
in the endeavor to clasp them all in one embrace. He looked 
up with tearless eyes, and smiling with a terrible serenity, 
took the spade from the hand of the nearest person, and com- 
menced digging a grave for them. The sturdy men around, 
moved and awed by the speechless silence with which he pro- 
ceeded, offered in low whispers to assist him. He motioned 
them solemnly away, and would not be aided. He thus 
worked on for hours, until a grave wide enough and deep 
encugh had been hollowed—then reaching the cold form of 
Mattie from the spot where it lay, he clasped it to his breast 
a moment—held it off for one long, fixed gaze—pressed 
those dear lips; and laid her gently down to rest. He then 
placed her first-born son upon her right side, and as he saw 
the frown of desperate battle’ still on his fair young brow, 
and the shattered rifle clutched in the grip of death, he smiled 
