But, I had not gone far, before my little strength again failed me, and I laid down.

The blood was still oozing from the wound in my head; and, for a time, I suffered more than I can describe.

There I was, in the deep woods, sick and emaciated, pursued by a wretch whose character for revolting cruelty beggars all opprobrious speech--bleeding, and almost bloodless.

I was not without the fear of bleeding to death.

The thought of dying in the woods, all alone, and of being torn to pieces by the buzzards, had not yet been rendered tolerable by my many troubles and hardships, and I was glad when the shade of the trees, and the cool evening breeze, combined with my matted hair to stop the flow of blood.