12 JULY 1851, Page 18

C.A.PT.A_IN REID'S SCALP-1117N TAMS. * THIS fiction belongs to the novel

of adventure with the advantage of a new scene. It is true that travellers' ave made us acquainted with Indians, trappers, and life in Mexico, as exhibited on the bor- der lands near the route of the American traders and exposed-to the-excursions of the savages. Some Transatlantic fictionnts 'have introduced these themes into tales, and Marryat made use of them in his Monsieur Violet: but neither Violet's adventures nor the American tales have been much read in this country ; besides which, their scenes were laid more in the Prairie than in Mexico, while those of the Honourable Mr. Murray's Indian romance log altogether further North. The hero of The Scalp-Hunters is probably the chief scalp- hunter himself. His name is Seguin ; he is a French croole.horn at New Orleans; and in early.manhood he settled in New Mexico with his young wife. Her beauty attracts the attention of the Spanish Governor; who being repulsed, incites the Indians to at- tack Seguin's house in his absence. He loses all save his wife and youngest daughter, the eldest being carried of hy the savages. Vengeance against the Indians, and a desire to recover, his child from their grasp, are -the animating objeets of his life. The re- venge is well gratified in many a bloody nazis. The recovery of his daughter, Adele, is postponed till her destined loveri St. Irrain, appears upon the scene, in company with his friend Henry Haller; who falls in love with the younger sister, Zoe. Henry might also be considered the hero himself, since he figures conspicuously throughout, and tells the story in the form of a narrative of his own adventures.

These adventures in substance consist of a journey across the Prairies from St. Louis to SantaTe.; a subsequent journey through the Desert of Death,—which had nearly been the death of Mr. Haller -through thirst, but which is a means of-introducing him to the family of his mistress ; and finally, an expedition against the Indians, organized by Seguin to recover Adele,; who is regarded by the savages with superstitious feelings, and has been raised to the rank of queen. These three principal actions are more or less varied by appropriate incidents and persons, especially the last and greatest, the expedition against the Indians. In this the fortunes alternate ; and specimens of every race likely to be found on such an occasion are brought before the reader.

Captain Reid possesses one great qualification for his task; he is acquainted with the scenery and the people of his story. He has also a fertility of mind which is something more than mere fancy. But he wants art, and indeed what is called " schooling." The author sometimes permits his subject to run away with him, or he selects subjects that are ill adapted to fiction. In reply to which objection, it is no answer to say that it is truth, and often less than the truth. It is not strictly the business of the artist to copy nature at all ; and if it were, lie should select what he copies. Captain Reid, however, will hardly vouch for the .existence of the Indian city with its temple, or maintain that the following pas- sage is a verity. Marryat in Monsieur Violet struck us as making the most of the wonders of the Prairie, but a ride on a wild buffalo goes a degree beyond him. A party of hunters have been camping out, and are surprised in the night by the rush of a herd.

"I sprang to my feet, flinging aside my blanket. A fearful spectacle was before me. Away to the West as far as the eye could reach, the prairie seemed in motion. Black waves rolled over its undulating outlines, as though some burning mountain was pouring down its lava upon the plains. £thousand bright spots flashed and flitted along the moving surface like jets of fire. The ground shook, men shouted, horses reared upon their ropes, neighing wildly. My dog barked and howled, running around me.

"For a moment I thought I was dreaming; but no, the scene was too real to be mistaken for a vision. I saw the border of the black wave within ten

• The Scalp-Hunters ; or Romantic Adventures in Northern Mexico. By Oaptain sMayutaleid, Author of " The Rifle Rangers." in three volumes. Published by koet. paces of me, and still approaching. Then, and'not till then, did! recognize the shaggy crests and glaring eyeballs of the buffalo.

God of heaven ! I am in their track ! I will be trampled to death ! '

"It was too late to attempt an escape by running. I seized my rifle, and fired at the foremost of the band. The effect of my shot was not perceptible. The water of the arroyo was dashed in my face. A huge boll, ahead of the rest, furious and snorting, plunged through the stream and up the slope. I was lifted and tossed high into the air. I was thrown rearwards, and fell open a moving mass. I did not feel hurt nor stunned. I felt myself carried onward upon the backs of several animals, that in the dense drove ran close together. These, frightened at their strange burden, bellowed loudly, and dashed on to the front.. A sudden thought struck me, and, fixing on that which was most under me I dropped my .legs astride of him, embracing his bump, and clutching the long long hair that grew upon his neck. The animal 'routed' with extreme terror, and plunging forward soon headed the band.

"This was exactly what I wanted; and on we went over the prairie, the bull running at top speed, believing, no doubt, that he had a panther or a catamount between his shoulders. "I had no desire to disabuse him of this belief; and, lest he should deem me altogether harmless and come toe halt, I slipped out my bowie, which happened to be handy,' and pricked him up whenever he showed symp- toms of lagging. At every fresh touoh of the `spur' he roared out, and ran forward at a redoubled pace.

" My danger was still extreme. The drove was coming on behind, with a front of nearly a mile. 1 could not have cleared it, had the bull stopped and left use on the prairie.

"Notwithstanding the peril I was in, I could not resist laughing at my ludicrous situation : I felt as one does when looking at a good comedy. " We struck through a village of prairie dogs.' Here I fancied the ani- mal was about to turn and run back. This brought my mirth to a sudden pause; but the buffalo usually runs in a bee line,' and fortunately mine made no exception to the law. On he went, sinking to the knees, kicking the dust from the conical bills, snorting and bellowing with rage and terror. " The Plum buttes' were directly in the line of our course. I had seen this from the start, and knew that if I could reach them I would be safe. They were nearly three miles from the bluff where we had bivouacked; but in my ride I fancied them ten. " A small one rose over the prairie, several hundred yards nearer than the main heights. Towards this I pricked the foaming bull in a last stretch; and he brought me cleverly within a hundred yards of its base. "It was now time to take leave of my dusky companion. I could have slaughtered him as I leaned over his back. My knife rested upon the most tuTherable part of his huge body. No, I would not have aloha that buffalo for the Koh-i-noor.

" Untwisting my fingers from his thick fleece, I slipped down over his tail, and, without as much as saying Good night,' ran with all my speed towards the knoll. I climbed up, and, sitting down upon a loose boulder of rock, looked out over the, prairie.

"'The moon was still shining brightly. My late companion bad halted not far from where I had left him, and stood glaring back with a look of extreme bewilderment. There was something so comical in the sight that I yelled with laughter as I sat securely on my perch."

This example shows that Captain Reid can -tell the improbable in a natural `way; and when adventure, 'movement, or manners are concerned, he gets along well enough, though rather avidly. In emotion or passion he is more uncertain. His tenderness and sentiments are a little flat ; but he can sometimes sustain a scene better than might have been expected. When Adele is recovered the 'task is not done. She looks upon her captivity with distaste; and, though she feels an interest in her new lover, she neither recognizes her parents nor cares for them. As a last resource, music is tried, with this result.

"Seguin-and St. Vrain are conversing apart. Adele is still seated 'where we left her, silent and abstracted. The chording of the instrument had already attracted her attention. She had looked upon it with a gaze of cu- riosity ; but as yet no music had been played, and she ceased to wonder. "The playing commences. It is a merry air—a fandango ; one of those to which the Andalusian foot delights to keep time. "Seguin and St. Vrain have turned. We all stand looking in the face of Adele. We endeavour to read its expression.

• "The first notes have startled her from her attitude of abstraction. Her eyes wandered-from one to the other—from the instrument to the player— with looks of wonder—of inquiry.

"The music continues. The girl has risen; and, as if mechanically, tip- proaohes the bench 'where her mother is seated. She crouches down by the feet of the latter, placing her earclose up to the instrument, and listening attentively. There is a singular expression upon her face. "I look at Seguin. That upon his is not less singular. His eye is fixed upon the girl's, gazing with intensity. His lips are apart—yet ho seems not to breathe. His arms hang neglected, and he is leaning forward, as if to read the thoughts that are passing within her. "He starts erect again, as though under the impulse of some sudden reso- lution.

" 0, Adele ! Adele!' he cries, hurriedly, addressing his wife, '0 sing that song—that sweet hymn—you remember—you used to sing it to her—often- often. 'You remember it, Adele ! Look at her. Quick ! quick ! 0, God! Perhaps she may---'

He is interrrupted by the music. The mother has caught his meaning ; and, with the adroitness of a practised player, suddenly changes the tune to one of a far difihrent character. I recognize the beautiful Spanish hymn, `La niadre a au hija.' (The mother to her child.) She sings it, accompan,y- ing her voice with the bandolon. She throws all her energy into the song, until the strain seems inspired. She gives the words with'full and passionate effect-

Tu duermes, Cara nine!

Tu duermes en In paz.

Los angeles del Cielo- Los metes gnardan, guardan, Nina nun !—Ca—ra—mi—'

"The song was interrupted by a cry—a cry of singular import—uttered by the girl. The first words of the hymn had caused her to start, and then lia- ten, if possible, more attentively than ever. As the song proceeded, the sin- gular expression we had noted seemed to become every moment more marked and intense ; and when the voice had reached the burden of the melody, a strange exclamation escaped her lips, and, springing to her feet, she stood gazing wildly in the face of the singer. Only for a moment. The next moment she cried, in loud passionate accents, 'Mama! mama!' and fell forward upon the bosom of her mother ! " uin spoke truly when he said, 'Perhaps, in God's mercy, she mayset mmem er.' She had remembered ; not only her mother, but in a short time she remembered him. The chords of memory bad been touched—its gates thrown open. She remembered the iiidory of her childhood. She re- membered all!

"I will not essay to describe the scene that followed. I will not attempt to picture the expression of the actors—to speak of their joyous exclamations, mingled with sobsand tcars; but those were teats of joy.

"All of us were happy—happy-to exultation—but for Seguin himself knew it was the hour of his