Page:Nattie Nesmith (1870).pdf/78

 would see if she couldn't run away from it; but the faster she ran, the mightier strides the monster made; und soon she felt herself swooped up from the earth by a powerful arm, and borne away under the folds of a heavy hanging blanket. She tried to scream, but fright had rendered her voiceless. Then she tried to kick and twist, and wriggle herself away. All in vain. She was held as in an iron clutch, while the huge man who thus held her, pressed on with such heavy strides that the earth seemed almost to jar beneath his feet. All was darkness, and poor Nattie, held tight in an uncomfortable position, began to fear that,—as Biddy had often said might happen unless she was a better girl,—the evil one was really carrying her off. As this terror grew upon her, her senses swam, and she lapsed into partial insensibility. She was at last released from the rough clutch, and laid upon a pile of mats in an Indian wigwam, where a number of dusky faces soon gathered around and gazed on the apparent-