There was a clear
moon, and a tall man stood in the light close to the door.
"John," said my cousin, in a quick, choking voice, "is it You?"
"Why, Thankful, don't you know me? I'm alive; but the folks in the barn
will have it that I 'm a ghost," said the man, springing towards her.
With a great cry of joy and wonder, my cousin caught hold of him: "O
John, you are alive!"
Then she swooned quite away, and we had a deal to do to bring her to
life again. By this time, the house was full of people, and among the
rest came John's old mother and his sisters, and we all did weep and
laugh at the same time. As soon as we got a little quieted, John told
us that he had indeed been grievously stunned by the blow of a tomahawk,
and been left for dead by his comrades, but that after a time he did
come to his senses, and was able to walk; but, falling into the hands of
the Indians, he was carried off to the French Canadas, where, by reason
of his great sufferings on the way, he fell sick, and lay for a long
time at the point of death.
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