in their ears.  Having gone with Susan a little way into the forest, her guide left her.  For nearly four hours she lay there, half dead with cold and terror, not daring to move from her place of concealment.  She saw the flames of the dwelling, where so many lonely hours had been passed, rising above the trees, and heard the shrill “whoops” of the retiring Indians.  Nero, who was lying by her side, suddenly rose and gave a low growl.  Silently a dark figure came gliding among the trees directly to the spot where she lay.  She gave herself up for lost; but it was the Indian woman, who came to her, and dropped at her feet a bag of money, the remains of her late husband’s savings.  The grateful creature knew where it was kept; and while the Indians were busied examining the rifles and other objects more interesting to them, had carried it off unobserved.  Waving her arm around to show that all was now quiet, she pointed in the direction of Wilton’s house, and was again lost among the trees.

Day was just breaking when Susan reached the squatter’s cabin.  Having heard the sad story, Wilton and two of his sons started immediately for the spot.  Nothing was to be seen save a heap of ashes.  The party had apparently consisted of only three or four Indians; but a powerful tribe being in the neighborhood, they saw it would be too hazardous to follow them.  From this time, Susan lived with the Wiltons.  She was as a daughter to the old man, and a sister to his sons, who often said, “That, as far as they were concerned, the Indians had never done a kindlier action than in burning down Susan Cooper’s hut.”

DEAF SMITH,

The celebrated Texan spy.

About two years after the Texan revolution, a difficulty occurred between the new government and a portion of the people, which threatened the most serious consequences—­even the bloodshed and horrors of civil war.  Briefly, the cause was this:  The constitution had fixed the city of Austin as the permanent capital, where the public archives were to be kept, with the reservation, however, of a power in the president to order their temporary removal, in case of danger from the inroads of a foreign enemy, or the force of a sudden insurrection.

Conceiving that the exceptional emergency had arrived, as the Camanches frequently committed ravages within sight of the capital itself, Houston, who then resided at Washington, on the Brazos, dispatched an order commanding his subordinate functionaries to send the state records to the latter place, which he declared to be, pro tempore, the seat of government.