Twelve chiefs fell at the destructive fire of the white men, and their fall was, undoubtedly, one great cause of the French and Indian wars with the English.  The fortunate rifleman, who had originated and conducted the ambuscade, returned from the war, at its termination, with a competency.  He was not again heard of, until the parent-country raised her arm against the infant colonies.  Then was seen, at the head of a band of Virginia riflemen our hero as the brave and gallant Colonel Morgan.

[Illustration:  Loss of the Blendenhall.]

SHIPWRECK OF THE BLENDENHALL.

In the year 1821, the Blendenhall, free trader, bound from England for Bombay, partly laden with broadcloths, was proceeding on her voyage with every prospect of a successful issue.  While thus pursuing her way through the Atlantic, she was unfortunately driven from her course, by adverse winds and currents, more to the southward and westward than was required, and it became desirable to reach the island of Tristan d’Acunha, in order to ascertain and rectify the reckoning.

It was while steering to reach this group of islands, that, one morning a passenger, on board the Blendenhall, who chanced to be up on deck earlier than usual, observed great quantities of seaweed occasionally floating alongside.  This excited some alarm, and a man was immediately sent aloft to keep a good look-out.  The weather was then extremely hazy, though moderate; the weeds continued; all were on the alert; they shortened sail, and the boatswain piped for breakfast.  In less than ten minutes, “breakers ahead!” startled every soul, and in a moment all were on deck.  “Breakers starboard! breakers larboard! breakers all around!” was the ominous cry a moment afterward, and all was confusion.  The words were scarcely uttered, when, and before the helm was up, the ill-fated ship struck, and, after a few tremendous shocks against the sunken reef, she parted about midship.  Ropes and stays were cut away—­all rushed forward, as if instinctively, and had barely reached the forecastle, when the stern and quarter-deck broke asunder with a violent crash, and sunk to rise no more.  Two of the seamen miserably perished—­the rest, including officers, passengers, and crew, held on about the head and bows—­the struggle was for life!

At this moment the Inaccessible Island, which till then had been vailed in thick clouds and mist, appeared frowning above the haze.  The wreck was more than two miles from the frightful shore.  The base of the island was still buried in impenetrable gloom.  In this perilous extremity, one was for cutting away the anchor, which had been got up to the cathead in time of need; another was for cutting down the foremast, the foretop-mast being already by the board.  The fog totally disappeared, and the black, rocky island stood in all its rugged deformity before their eyes.  Suddenly the sun broke out in full splendor,