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J. VERNEY, ABoot and Shoe Maker. Carriage, Waggon & Sleigh TMPOR'I'ER of British and American Dry Goods, Groceries, “lines, liquors, Oils, lPQims. &c. dire. JOHN HARRINGTON, JR., “'0 Miles North of Richmond Hill, dealer in Dry Goods. Groceries, Winefibiquors. H ardwnrc. Glass, Earthenware. 81:. fi Also. Licensed Auctioneer. September. 33. 1857‘ ifâ€"une, 1857. Richmond Hill. June. 1837. NNKEIL‘PER. Licensed for the Counties of York, Simm. Curnar of Yunge m sweets. Iloflaud Landing. November, 26. 1857 Saddle and Harness Maker, 'I‘HORNHILL. Thu-drill. Now. N5. 1857. U :Throuhill. c. w. (Nukes brands ofToas,Sugars and Cofl'cas on hundwgenuine as Imuorleq. m â€"â€"â€". h.“ V M uzaorune‘utrérflflread. Biscuit and Cakes, constmtly on luuud. Thoruuill. Sept. 25. i857. gl7-lv {'W J}Wiua;.VLiriuon:s, Hardware. &c Richmond Hill, June. 1857. {5.11 iwy. 'SMELSER 8L BOWMAN, Licensed Auctioneers! gin. JAMES LANGSTAFF, Richmond Hill. U umud um. ‘ Ladies' and Gemlemens’ Boom and Shoes made after the laws! st) Ies. August 6, 1857- gS-Gm. RESIDENCES :â€"-Henry Smulsar. Lukay. King; Thus. Bowman. Almim, Markham. Octobonfi. 1857. g19-1 June $0. [1857 80] CHAS. POLLOCK, 08] » MPO [1T E R ofBrilish, French German and Ameuicun, Fancy and Staple Dry Goods. No. 80. City Buildings. King 51106! East. pposile St. James’ Cathedral. Toronto. C. \V Nomfl. 1857. g22-t Markham & \Vhitclmrch LAG. Banner and Ornamental Painlen Elizabeth Street. Torou(a.â€"0\'or \V. Grif- l'x’s Grocery Stow. 113' Coats of Arms. and everyduscripxion of Herald Painting. Met-med \\'i1l1do>pulcl|,aud at reasonable chutgos. Jung, {-8542 g.lwy. Wune, 1857, Jam; 1357‘ WILLIAM HARRISON, Saddle and Harness Maker, June. 1857 M. MORRISON. Agent, Tacoma, 3m 1911], L857. gl-wy. 'I‘bronlu ‘uuo. 1857 1 uue. 1857 WELLINGTON HO 'I‘EL, \ugust 1-1. 1857 Ame. 1857 January 14. 1858. ‘0pposile the White Swan Inn ichmond Hill. June 10. 1857. gt] hnuary 1%. 1853 EQUAL) Staming and Allelllive-Hosllers "HERON. Anomivo IIosnlors always in h mienduuma. March MESSRS. SL 81 W. BOYD, ‘ORNER of Front agd George s'reets. J one block east of the Market, ”witness .mircttorg. LER‘K ‘I‘HIRD DIVISION COURT ' Ofiice, Richmond Hill. ROBERT J. GRIFFITH, ‘EALER in Grocories, Wines and Liquors, EAR 4.1m Rnfiroad Station. Aurora [Camfiuil Hosllars always in attendance. C. CASE. Proprietor.“ Battier! Ale Depot, 65. YORK STREET, TORONTO, c. w. PPOS}T_I~;HA. LAW’S. Yongs ereot. Rich- Veterinary Surgeon Lol 26. 4th (7011., Vuuglmu. ‘.- HORSE &. FARRIER ” INN. 'A’IIJFI' Smud and Third DIVISION Court. (Mite, Richmond Hill. AUCTIONEE HENRY SANDERSON [IYSICIAN &: SURGEON Corner of Yonge and Centre Streets. Corner of Yonge and Centre JOHN COULTER, Tailor and Clothicra Yange SL. Richmond Hill. THOMAS SEDMAN, Veterinary Slll‘ JAMES McCLUR‘E, CALEB LUDFORD, A. GALLANOUGH, MANSION HOUSE, ROACH’S HOTEL, JOSEPH KELLER, G. A. BARNARD, CLYDE HOTEL, RING SWEET EAST, TORONTO. Next door to G. A, Barnard‘s. GEORGE DODD Barristers, &c., WELLINGTON Bumexcs, KING sax, TORONTO. JOHN GRIEVE, For: flu; wowssmrs or MAKER, 1858 RICHSiOND mm; Thoruhill. J. N. REID, P. CROSBY, GOODS. GROCERIES, JOHN ROACH. J). KAVANAGH. AND Licensed Auctioneer of York, Ontario and Yonge and Bradford JOHN MILLS, Richmbnd Hill. gJ-wy. l’roprle tor goon, Pr 0 prjew r Streets, g.1-\vy. g. 1 -wy g. l -\v)' g.1 -w_v gJ-wy Proprietor g. i â€" \vy. g.3â€"wy 3 Lily, g‘JS-lf ng- if glO-lf 132 “J9 I’ve sailed the sea, from east to west. From north to south. the wide world through. I’ve seen mankind, both worst and best, And loved them, whatme’er their hue. But never found. on any ground, From Erin, eastward to Japan. From Hudson's Bay to Paraguay. The equal of the Englishman. The Englishman, the Englishman. 'l‘he upright, downrighL Englishman ; Ilis aim is sure, his heart is pure. The ready. ezoady Englishman. He bear-u himself with heart of oak. His love is warm. his hate is strong , And when he fights. beware his slruke. If principles or acts are wrong. At fu'leh foes ho aims no hlows. - But strives to lift than) if he can : He seems to wreak upon the weak, The vengeance of an Englishman. The Englishman, the Englishman. The uplight. downright Englishman In love and hale he's always great, The ready. steady Englishman. “’hmo’er lho purpnse at his heart. He'll do it if his life allow ; Nor will he from his word depart, \Vhofinds him o’er draw back his vow 1 On all that’s just he builds his trust. 011 all that’s base he hurls his ban ; And ladies bright. his heart’s delightâ€" Ilu luvel you liku an Englishman. The Englishman. the Englishman. The upright. downright Englishman; In friendship dam, in love sincere. The ready. steady EuglLshmau. In work he labors with a will, In play is playful as a child; And if the wild winds whistle chill, He bears Inhforlune undefiled. On all the girth of mother earth. You find his mark. you trace his plan. Though some may fear. and some revere. Yei none desp.se the Englishman. The Englishman]. the Englishman, 'l'he upright, don'nrighl Englishman ’Twas such as he who made us free, The neady. steady Englishman. At the landing of the fort, on the day our story opens. was fastened a fiat-boat of the kind used by the early navigators of the Western After the battle in question, in which the Indians were defeated with great loss, a fort was here erected by the victors, which be- came a post of great importance throughout the sanguinary scenes of strife which almost immediately fol- lowed, and which in this section of the country were continued for many years after that establish- ment of peace which acknowledged the United Colonies of America a free and independent nation. rivers Upon the deck of this boat, at the moment we present the scene to the reader, stood five individu- als, alike engaged in watching a group of persons, mostly females, who Were slowly approaching the landing. Of these five. one was a stout, sleek negro, in partial livery, and evidently a house or body serâ€" ‘vam; three were boatrr‘ilen and lbordcrcrs, as indicated by their rough‘; burned visuges course at. tire; ut tie fil'th was :1 some two-and-twcnty y::;1sӤff:::. of a fine command“lg person, aliul \Vhile reading recently an ac- count of the frightful massacre of several white families by the Black- foot Indians, we were reminded of a thrillim.r event which occurred in the " \Vild West,” a short time subsequent to the Revolution, in which a highly accomplished young lady, the daughter ofadistinguishcd officer of the American Army, played an important part. The story being of a most thrilling na- ture, and exhibiting in a striking manner the “ Perils of the Border," we have concluded to give an exâ€" tract from it, as originally published, as follows : The angle on the right bank of the Great Kanawana. formed by its junction with the Ohio. is called Point Pleasant, and is a place of historical note. Here. on the 10th of October. 1774, during what is know as Lord Dunmore's War, was fought one of the fiercest and most desperate battles that ever took place bethen the Virginians and their forest foes. Vol. 1. THE PERILS OE THE BORDER. [IE ENGLISHMAN @ritizlg érltriinng. 3! CHARLES MACKAY. TV] TH 0R a clear, open, intelligent counten- tenance; and in the lofty carriage of his headâ€"in the gleam of his large, bright, hazel eyeâ€"there was something superior mind; but as we shall have occasion in the course of our narrrative to fully set forth who and what Eugene Fairfax was, we will leave him for the present, and turn the approaching group. whom he seemed to he regarding With lively interest. to V Of this group, composed of a ,middle-aged man and four females, with a black female servant follow- ing some five or six paces in the rear, there was one whom the most casual eye would have singled out and rested upon with pleasure.â€" The lady in question, was appar- .| I c, which denoted one of .r Fairfax, the secretary of Blanche’s fatherâ€"at once stepped forward. and, in a polite and deferential man-l ner, offered his hand to the differ- ent females, to assist them on board. tThe hand of Blanche was the last to touch hisâ€"and then but slightly, as she sprung quLcltly and lightly to the deckâ€"but a close observer might have detected the slight flush which mantled his noble, cx- pressive features as his eye for a single instant met hers. She might herself have seen itâ€"perhups she didâ€"but there was no correspond- ing glow on her own bright. pretty face, as she inquired, in the calm, dignified tone of one having the right to put the question, and who might also have been aware of the inequality of position between her- self and him she addressed . V Of this group, composed of a middle-aged man and four females, with a black female servant follow- ing some five or six paces in the rear, there was one whom the most ‘ casual eye would have singled out and rested upon with pleasure.â€" The lady in question, was appar- ently about twenty years of age, of a slender and graceful figure, and of that peculiar cast of feature, which, besides being beautiful in every li- neament, rarely fails to affect the beholder with something like a charm. Her travelling costumeâ€"a hnc brown habit, high in the neck, but- toned closely over the bosom and Coming down to her small pretty feet, without trailing on the ground â€"was both neat and becoming ; and with her riding-cup and its waving ostrich plume. set gaily above her flowing,r curls, her appearance con- trasted forcibly with the rough, un- polished looks ofthose ofher sex be- side her, with their linsey bed- gowns, scarlet flannel petticouts, and bleached linen (zaps. middle-aged gentleman mentioned as one ofthe party ; ‘ a true (laugh. tcr of a true soldier. Her father, Colonel Philip Bertrand. God bless him for a true heart! never did seem to know what it was to fear -â€"-and Blanche is just like him.’ By this time the parties had reached the boat; and the young man already dcscribcdflEugenc ‘Oh Blanchc,’ said one of the more venerable of her female com- punions, pursuing a conversation which had been maintained since quitting the open fort behind them, ‘ I cannot bear to let you go ; for it just seems to me as if something were going to happen to you, and when I feel that way, something ge- nerally does happen’ mo 1' ‘But why repeat this to me, dear aunt,’ returned Blanche. with a more serious air, ‘ when you know it is my destiny, either good or bad, to attempt the voyage? My par- ents have sent for me to join them ‘Just like her father 1' joined in the husband of the matron, the bro- lhcr of Blanche’s mother, the comâ€" mander of the. station, and the in their new home. and it is my duty to go to them, be the peril what it may. ‘ You never did know what it was to fear!’ pursued the good wo- man. rather proudly. ‘ No,’ she repeated, turning to the others, ‘ Blanche Bertrand never did know what it was to fear, I believe !’ ' Well, aunt,’ returned Blanche, with a light laugh, ‘I do not doubt in the least that something will hap- penâ€" for I expect one of these days to reach my dear father and blessed mother, and give them such an em- brace as is due from a dutiful daughter to her parentsâ€"and that will be something that has not hap- pened for two long years at least.’ IVITHOUT OFFENCE TO FRIENDS OR FOES, AND YORK RIDINGC’ GAZETTE. RICHBIOND HILL, FRIDAY, DIAY ‘31, 1858. ‘ Eugene. is everything prepared‘ for our departure? It will nm do for our boat to spring a-lcak again, as it did coming down the Kann- whaâ€"for it will not be safe for us, Iam told. to touch either shore bu- twecn the different forts and trad- ing posts on our route, this side of our deslilmlion,â€"the Falls of lhe hio.’ ‘ No, indeedl' rejoined her aunt, quickly; ‘it willvbe as much as your lives are wotth to venture a foot from the main current of the Ohioâ€"for news reached us only the other day, that many boats had been attacked this spring, and se- veral lost, with all on board.’ ‘No one feels more concerned about the safe passage of Miss Bertrand than mysull',’ replied Eug- ene, in a defcrcnliul tone; ‘and since our arrival here,Ih:1vc lel'l nothing undone that I thought might. possibly add to her security and coml'url.’ giving ear to the most earnest ap- peals of humanity. You under- stand whatI mean'l White men, apparently in the greatest distress, will hail your boat, represent them- selves as having just escaped from the Indians, and beg of you, for the love of God, in the most piteous tones, to come to their relief; but lurn a deaf ear to themâ€"«to each and all of themâ€"evenshould you know the pleaders to be of your own kin; for in such a case your own brother might deceive youâ€" not willfully and voluntarily, per- haps~â€"but because of being goaded on by the savages, themselves con- cealed. Yes, such things have been known as one friend being thus used to lure another to his destruction; and so be cautious, vigilant, brave and true, and may the good God keep you all from harm !‘ “I doubt it not,’ replied the com- mander of the Point; ‘I believe you are all faithful and true men, or you would not have been select- ed by the agent of Colonel Ber- trand, for taking down more preci- ous freight than you ever curried before; but still the wisest and the best of men have lost their lives by ‘That is true, to my personal knowledge,’ joined in the uncle of Blanche; ‘und I thank you, Mr. Fairfax, in behalf of my fair kins- wonmn. There will, perhaps,’ he pursued, ‘be no great danger, so long as you keep in the current; but your watch must not be ne- glected for a single moment, either night or day; and do not, I most solemnly charge and warn you, un- der any circumstances, or on any pretence whatsoever. suf‘l'cr your- selves to be decoyed to either shore !’ As he finished speaking, Blanche proceeded to take an affectionate leave ofall, receiving many a ten- der message for her parents from those who held them in love and veneralion ; and the boat swung out, and began to float down with the current, now fairly entered upon the most dangerous portion of a long and perilous journey, ‘I hope we understand our duty bellel‘, Colonel,‘ said one oflhc men, respectfully. The father of Blanche, Colonel Philip Bertrand, was a natiVe of Virginia, and a descendant of one of the Huguenot refugees, who fled from their native land after the re- voculion of the edict 0f Nantz in 1665. He had been an officer of somc note during.r the Revolutionâ€" a warm political and personal friend of lhe author of the Declaration of Independanceâ€"and a gentleman who had always stood high in the esteem of his associates and colem- po'raries. Though at one time a man ofl wealth, Colonel Bertrand had lost much, and suffered much, through British invasion ; and when, shortly after the close of the war, he had met with a few more serious reâ€" verses, he had been fain to accept a grant of land. near the Falls of the Ohio. now Louisville. tendered him by Virginia which then held juris- diction over the entire territory now constituting the State of Kentucky. The grant had decided the Colon- el upon seek'ng his new possessions and building up a new home in the then Far West, and as his wife had insisted upon accompanying him on his first tour, he had assented to her desire. on condition that Blanche should be left among her friends, till such time as a place could be pre- pared which might in some degree be considered a fit abode for one so carefully and tenderly reared. Blunche would gladly have gone with her parents ; but on this point her father had been inexorableâ€"dc- clm‘ing that she would have to re- main at the East till he should see proper to send for her ; and as he was a man of positive character, and a rigid disciplinarian, the mat- ter had been settled without argu- ment. When Colonel Bertrand removedl to the West, Eugene Fairfax, as we‘ have seen. accompanied him ; and coming of age shortly after, he had accepted the liberal offer of his no- ble benefactor, to remain with him in the capacity of private secretary and confidential agent. On taking possession of his grant, the Colonel had almost immediately erected a fort, and oflered such inducements to settlers as to speedily collect around him quite a little community â€"of which, as a matter of course. he became the head and chief; and to supply the wants of his own fam- ily and others, and increase his gains in a legitimate way, he had opened a store, and filled it with goods from the Eastern marts, which goods Were transported by land over the mountains to the Kanawha, and thence by water to the Falls of the Ohio, whence their removal to Fort Bertrand became an easy matter. To purchase and ship these goods. and deliver a package of letters to friends in the East, Eugene had been thrice dispatchedâ€"his third commission also extending to the escorting ol' the beautiful heiress, with her servants, to her new home. This last commission had been so far executed at the time chosen for the opening of our story. as to bring the dill'erent parties to the mouth of the great Kanawha, whence the reader has seen them slowly floatâ€" ing oil' upon the still, glassy bosom of " the belle of rivers." The day, which was an auspi- cious one. passed Without anything occurring worthy ol'note, until near four o'clock, when, as Blanche was standing on the fore part ofthe deck gazing at the lovely Scene which surrounded her, she saw a seeming. I_v flying body suddenly leave a limb ofa gigantic tree, (whose mighty branches extended far over the river and near which the boat was then swayed by the action of the cur- rent.) and alight with a crash upon the deck of the boat, not more than eight feet from her. One glance sufficed to show her what the object was, and to freeze the blood in her veins. The glowing eyes of a huge panther met her gaze. The sud- denness of the shock which this dis- covery gave her was overpowering. With a deafening shriek she fell upon her knees and clasped her hands before her breast. The pen- SKETCH YOUR TVORLD EXACTLY AS IT GOES.â€"Byrmz @rihum ther crouched for his deadly leap. but ere he sprang, the hunting knife of Eugene Fairfax (who. with the‘ steersmuu, was the only person on deck besides Blanche), was buried to tlte ltilt in his side, inflicting a setere but ttot fatal wound. The infuriated beast at once turned upon Eugene, and a deadly struggle enâ€" sued, But it was a short one. The polished blade of tltc knife played back and forth like lightning flashes, and at every plunge it was buried‘ to the hilt in tlte panther's body, who soon fell to the deck, dragging the dauntless Eugene with him. On seeing her protector fall. Blanche uttered another shriek and rushed to his aid ; but assistance from stoutcr arms was at hand. The boattnen gathered round, and the savage monster was literally lhackcd in pieces with their knives and hatchets, and Eugene, covered with blood, was dragged from under his carcass. Supposing him to be dead or mortally wounded, Blanche threw her arms around his neck and gave way to a passionate burst ol grief. But he was not deadâ€"he was not even hurl, with the excep- tion ofa lcw slight scratches. The blood wi.h which he was covered was the panther's, not his own.â€"â€" But Blanche’s embrace was hisâ€"a priceless treasureâ€"an index of her heart’s emotions and affections. It was to color his whole future life, as will be seen in the progress of our story. Saying this, Eugene hastened be- low, whcre found the other boatmen sleeping so soundly as to re- quire considerable efl'ort. on his part. to wake them. At last, getting them fairly roused, he informed them, almost in a whisper, for he did not care to disturb the others, that a heavy fog had suddenly arisen, and he wished their presence on deck, immediately. he ' A fog, Cap’n T exclaimed one, in a tone which indicated that he comprehended the peril with the word. "Hush !’ returned Eugene; ‘there is no necessity for waking the oth- ers, and having a scene. Up! and follow me, without a word !’ He glided back to the deck. and was almost immediately joined by the boatmen, to whom he briefly tnade known his hopes and fears. They thought, like their compan. ion, that the boat would be safest if made fast to an overhanging limb of the Kentucky shore; but frankly admitted that this could not now be done without difficulty and danger, and that there was a possibility of keeping the current. ”Then make that possibility a certainty, and it shall be the best night’s work you ever performed !” rejoined Eugene, in a quick, excited tone. ‘ VVe’ll do the best we can, Cap’n,” was the response ; “ but no man can be sartin of the current ol .I-I ,Lt ,,,,,:,,t,, Slowly and silently, save the oc- casional creak, dip, and plush of the steersman’s oar, the bout of our voyagers was borne along upon the bosom of the current, on the third night of the voyage. The hour was waxing late. and Eugene. the only one astir except the watch, was suddenly startled, by a rough hand being placed upon his shoulder, accompanied by the words, in the grufl'voiec of the boatman: ‘ I say, captain, here's trouble!’ ‘ \tht is it, Dick?’ inquired Eugene. stating to his feet. ‘ El. you can,’ rejoined the boat- man; ‘but ,« hen it gils so dark as we can’t tell one thing from l'olher, it‘ll be powerful hard to do; and ef we don't run agin a bar or bank afore morning, in spite of the best 0’ us, it’ll be the luckiest go llmteverI had a hand in. See, cap’nâ€"il's thickening up fast ; we can”! see eylhcr bank at all. nor the water nylller; the stars is gettin’ dIm, and it looks as if that war a cloud all round us.’ ‘Dou’t you see thar'sa heavy fog rising. that'll soon kiver us up l0 thick that we won’t be able to tell a white man from a nigger? replied the boalmunâ€"Dick Winter by nameâ€"a tall, bony, muscular, athletic specimen of his class. ‘ Good heaven! so there is !’ ex- claimed Eugene, looking off upon the already misty waters. ‘ It must have gathered very suddenly, for all was clear a minute ago. \tht is to be done now? This is some- thingl was not prepared for, on such a night as this.’ ‘ But what is to be done 'Iâ€"wlxal do you advise ’l’ asked Eugene, in a quick, excited tone, that indicated some degree of alarm. ‘ I see ! I secl’ returned Eugene, excitedly.‘ Merciful Heaven! I hope no accident will befall us here â€"and 3' ct my hem! almost misgivea me !â€"â€"for this, I believe, is the most. dangerous part of our journey-â€" the vicinity where most of our boats have been captured by the savages.’ ‘It looks troublous, Cap’n, I’ll allow,’ returned Dick ;’ but we’re in (OH, that’s surtin, and I s'posc we’ll have to make the best on'l.’ ‘ \Vhy, ef you warn't so skeered about the young lady, and it warn’t so dead agin the orders from head quarters, my plan would be a cl’ar and easy onuâ€"l’d just run over to the Kniuluck shore. and tie up.’ 'No, no,’ said Eugene, posi- tively ; ‘that will never do, Dickâ€"â€" that will never do! I would not think of such a thing for a moment! We must keep in the current by all means!’ them fairly ruused, he informed them, almost in a whisper, for he did not care to disturb the others, that a heavy fog had suddenly arisen. and he wished their presence on deck, immediately. 'A fog, Cap'n T exclaimed one, in a tone which indicated that he comprehended the peril with the word. "Hush !’ returned Eugene; ‘ there is no neccssily for waking the oth- ers, and having a scene. Up! and follow me, without a word!’ He glided back to the deck. and was almost immediately joined by the boatmen, to whom he briefly made known his hopes and fears. They thought, like their compan. ion, that the boat would be safest if made fast to an overhanging limb of the Kentucky shore; but. frankly admitted that this could not now be done without difficulty and danger, and that there was a possibility of keeping the current. "Then make that possibility a certainty, and it shall be the best night’s work you ever performed !” rejoined Eugene, in a quick, excited tone. ‘ VVc’ll do the best we can, Cap’n,” was the response ; “ but no man can be sartiu of the current of this here crooked stream in a foggy night.’ A lung silence followedâ€"the voyagcrs slowly drifting down through a misty darkness impene- trable to the eyeâ€"when, suddenly, our young commander, who was standing near the bow, felt the ex- tended branch of an overhanging limb silently brush his lace. He started, with an exclamation of alarm, and at the same moment the boatman on the right called out : n strange thrill through every nerve ; and hastening below. he found Blanche, fully dressed, witha light in her hand. standing just out- side of her cabin, in the regular pas- sage which led lengthwiae through the center of the boat. ‘l have heard something, Eu- gene," she said “enough to know that we have met with an accident, At this moment Eugene heard his name pronounced by a voice that seldom failed to excite a peculiar emotion in his breast, and now sent Then followed a scene of hurried and anxious confusion, the VOl’fCS of the three boalman mingling to-gelh- er in loud, quick, excited tones. ‘ Pusli‘ofl'the bow !’ cried one. ‘Quick! altogether, now! over with her !’ shouled another. ‘1’“ get over the bow, and try to git the lay ofthe land with my feet,” said Tom Harris ; and forthwith he set about the not very pleasant un- dertaking. ‘Quick, here boys! we’re agin the shore, as sure as death!’ Meantime the laden boat was brushing along against projecting bushes and overreaching limbs, and every moment getting more and more entangled while; the long poles and sweeps of the boatman, as they attempted to push her off, were often plunged, without touching bot- tom, into what appeared to be a soft, clayey mud. from which they were only extricated by such an outlay of strength as tended still more to draw the clumsey craft upon the bank they wished to avoid. At length, scarcely more than a minute from the first alarm, there was a kind of settling together. as it were, and the boat became fast and immovable. ‘The de’il’s in it! she’s running aground here on a muddy bouom‘.’ almost yelled a third. it wasjust what he expected, For a moment or two a dead silence fol- lowed, as ifeauh comprehended that The fact was announced by Dick Winter. in his characteristic man. netâ€"who added. with an oath, that the matter was one to be viewed in a very serious light. N0. 59. but not sufficient to fully compre- hend its nature.” ‘ Unfortunately, about two hours ago," replied Eugene, ‘ we sudden- ly became involved in a dense fog; and in spite ofour every precaution and care, we have run agroundâ€"it may be against the Ohio shore~it may be against an islandâ€"it is so dark we can’t tell. But be not alarmed, Miss Blanche,’ he hurried- ly added; “I trust we shall soon be afloat again ; though in any event, the darkness is sufficient to conceal us from the savages, eveé were they in the vicinity.’ ‘I know little of Indians,’ return- ed Blanche; ‘but I have always understood that they are somewhat ‘ remarkable for their acuteness of hearing; and if such is the case, there would be no neCOSSity of their being very near, to be made ac- quainted with our locality, judging from the loud voices I heard a few minutes ago.’ ‘I fear we’ve been rather impru. dent,’ said Eugene, in a deprecating tone; ‘ but in the excitement V His words were suddenly: cut short by several loud voices ofalarm from without, folllowed by a quick and heavy trampling across the deck; and the next moment Seth Harper and Dick Winter burst into the passage, the former exclaiming : ‘ We ve run plum into a red nig- ger’s nest Cap’ n and Tom Harris is already butchered and scalped !’ And even as he spoke, as if in confirmation of his dreadful intelli- gence, there arose a series of wild, piercing, dcmoniacal yells, followed by a dead and ominous silence. So far we have followed the love- ly heroine and her friends in this adventure; but the foregoing is all that we can publish in our colums. The balance of the narrative can only be found in the New York Ledger, the great family paper, which can be obtained at all the periodical stores where papers are sold. Remember to ask for the ‘Ledger,’ dated May 22nd, and in it you will get the continuation of the narrative from where it leaves 011' here. If there are no book-stores or news-offices convenient to where you reside, the publisher of the Led- ger will send you a copy by mail, if you will send him five cents in a letter. Address, Robert Bonner. Ledger Office, 44 Ann street, New York. This story is entitled, ‘ Per. ils of the Border,’ and grows men: and more interesting as it goes on. THE CUNNING OF THE RA- VEN. In the narrative )f the Artie voy- age of Captain McClure, of the British navy, is the following story of the two ravens which became domiciliated on board of the Inves- tigator. The raven, it appears, in the only bird that willingly braves a Polar winter; and, in the depth of the season, he is seen toflit through the cold and sunless atmo- sphere like an evil spirit, his sullen croak alone breaking the silence of the deathlike scene. No one 01' the crew attempted to shoot the ra- ‘vens, and they consequently be- came very bold, as will be seen by the following story: “ Two ravun now established themselves as friends of the family in Mercer Bay, living mainly by what little scraps the men might have thrown away after meal times. The ship’s dog, however, looked upon these as his especial perquisites, and ex- hibited considerable energy in maintaining his rights against the ravens, who nevertheless outwitted him in a way which amused every one. Observing that he appeared quite willing to make a mouthful of their own sable persons, they used to throw themselves intention- ally in his way, just as the me tins were being cleaned out on i- dirt-heap outside the ship. The dog would immediately run at them, and they would just fly a few yards; the dog then made another run, and again they would appear to escape him but by an inch, and so on until they had tempted and provoked him to the shore, a eon~ siderablc distance oll'. Then the ravens would make a direct flight for the ship, and had generally done good execution before the mortifietlulooklng dog detected the imposition that had been practised upon him, and rushed back again.” cent lambs to madam,” said surely wouldn \vbuhl van?"