SETH JONES OF NEW HAMPSHIRE;
OR, THE
CAPTIVES OF THE FRONTIER
CHAPTER I.
THE STRANGER.
The clear ring of an ax was echoing through the arches of a forest, three-quarters of a century ago; and an athletic man was swinging the instrument, burying its glittering blade deep in the heart of the mighty kings of the wood.
Alfred Haverland was an American, who, a number of years before, had emigrated from the more settled provinces in the East, to this then remote spot in western New York. Here, in the vilderness, he had reared a humble home, and, with his loving partner, and a sister, laid the foundation for a settlement. True, this "settlement" was still small, consisting only of the persons mentioned, and a beautiful blue-eyed maiden, their daughter; but Haverland saw that the tide of emigration was rolling rapidly and surely to the west, and, ere many year, the villages and cities would take the place of the wild forest, while the Indians would be driven farther on toward the sitting sun.
The woodman was a splendid specimen of "nature's noblemen." His heavy coat lay upon a log a short distance away, and his swelling, ponderous chest was covered only by a close-fitting under garment, with the collar thrown open, showing the glowing neck and heaving breast. Substantial pants met the strong moccains which encased his feet. A small raccoon-skin cap rested upon the back of his head, exposing his forehead, while his (lack hair swept around his shoulders. His features were regular and strongly marked. The brow was
