In this state he suffers much for want of the comforts and even
_necessaries_ of life. Suppose him afflicted with a flux or fever,
attacked by a panther, bitten by a rattle-snake, or any other of the
dreadful circumstances peculiar to his situation: but, above all, suppose
a war to break out between the Indians, and him, and his whole family
scalped, and their plantations burnt!

The following extract from an American work very feelingly describes him
under these cruel apprehensions:--

EXTRACT.

"You know the position of our settlement; therefore I need not describe
it. To the west it is enclosed by a chain of mountains, reaching to----.
To the east, the country is yet but very thinly inhabited. We are almost
insulated, and the houses are at a considerable distance from each other.
From the mountains we have but too much reason to expect our dreadful
enemy, the Indians; and the wilderness is a harbour, where it is
impossible to find them. It is a door through which they can enter our
country at any time; and as they seem determined to destroy the whole
frontier, our fate cannot be far distant. From lake Champlain almost all
has been conflagrated, one after another. What renders these incursions
still more dreadful is, that they most commonly take place in the dead
of the night. We never go to our fields, but we are seized with an
involuntary fear, which lessens our strength, and weakens our labour. No
other subject of discourse intervenes between the different accounts,
which spread through the country, of successive acts of devastation; and
these, told in chimney corners, swell themselves in our affrighted
imaginations into the most terrific ideas. We never sit down, either to