LIBRARY 
 
 Bethany Mission Sabbath School, 
 
 ElvUOTT BOROUGH, PA. 
 
 NO .. 
 
 SUNDAY SCHOOL EVERY SUNDAY 
 At 3:30 o'clock p. m. 
 
 You are Invited. 
 
 A cordial welcome extended to all who 
 come. 
 
 Return this Book promptly in one 
 week with privilege of renewing in or- 
 der that others may not be deprived of 
 
 its use. 
 
 Be careful that it is not abused or de- 
 faced while in your possession. 
 
\ 
 
GIFT OF 
 Prof. C. A. Kof o id 
 
THE LAST PENACOOK 
 
 A TALE OF PROVINCIAL TIMES 
 
 BY 
 
 ABEL B. BERRY 
 
 BOSTON 
 D. LOTHROPAND COMPANY 
 
 FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1887, 
 BY 
 
 Iff- } .ffy *<* 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 STRANGE VISITORS .... 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS . . 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE REMOVAL 23 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 JIM 39 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 To ESCAPE TROUBLE .... 44 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 SAFETY IN THE WILDERNESS . . 51 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 ARRIVAL OF THE HOUSEHOLD . . 57 
 
 MH11798 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE BOY HUNTERS .... 63 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 CLOSING WINTER DAYS ... 68 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT ... 77 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN . 84 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THE AFFAIRS OF THE PROVINCE . . 100 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 IN THE CABIN . . . . . 107 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE GOVERNOR'S PARTY . . . 114 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ALMOST A CALAMITY . . . . 121 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 A PLOT FOR REVENGE . . . 131 
 
CONTENTS. V 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 THE ARREST 142 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 THE SEARCH 151 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 THE DISCOVERY 165 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 THE TRIAL ...... 173 
 
 

THE LAST PENACOOK. 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 STRANGE VISITORS. 
 
 SOMEWHERE on the coast of New Jersey, 
 during the early part of the last half of 
 the last century, there stood a little rude hut, so 
 near the surf-beaten shore, that it was often 
 drenched, when storms were abroad, with the 
 salt spray of the dashing waves. 
 
 The location of the little dwelling was a pecu- 
 liar one. It stood at the head of a little bay, 
 across the entrance of which, except on one side, 
 was a low reef of rocks, but high enough not to 
 be wholly covered at flood tide, unless at times 
 when the tide was very high. A sandy and 
 gravel beach a few feet high rises up from the 
 water's edge at high tide, and upon this stood 
 the little cabin, its door, when open, command- 
 
 7 
 
; TRA'NGE VISITORS. 
 
 ing a view of the open sea. A few rods back of 
 the cabin rose low, sandy, and mostly barren 
 hills or dunes. The place altogether had a bar- 
 ren, desolate and unpropitious aspect. The won- 
 der was, that any human being should select such 
 a spot for habitation. 
 
 The cabin itself seemed made mostly of drift- 
 wood and poles, and yet was devoid wholly of the 
 appearance of squalor and degradation, usually 
 observable around places of poverty and want. 
 The inmates of this humble dwelling were a man 
 about thirty years old, and his wife, somewhat 
 younger, and one child, a feeble, puny little boy 
 four or five years of age, who required the most 
 assiduous care to keep alive in his feeble frame 
 the flickering flame of life. The father was a 
 mild-tempered man, tall, slender, and slightly 
 round-shouldered. His light hair and rather 
 fair complexion gave him almost a youthful look. 
 The light of his clear blue eye showed that he 
 was not of that hopeless, shiftless, worthless 
 class known as poor whites of a later genera- 
 tion, and the wonder would arise at once, why , 
 was he content to dwell in this forlorn and deso- 
 late place ? 
 

 STRANGE VISITORS. 9 
 
 . 
 
 Though it might have no attraction to many, 
 and would seem even repulsive to most, the 
 place had its charms for Than (contraction for 
 Nathan or Nathaniel) Clifford, who may be said 
 to have been of an amphibious nature, procuring 
 a livelihood from both sea and land. His wife 
 was a tidy little body, whose life seemed bound 
 up in that of her child, whom she watched and 
 cared for, with apparently sleepless anxiety. 
 
 It would seem that their location must, of ne- 
 cessity, cut them off from all communication 
 with the rest of the world ; but about two miles 
 inland was a small settlement, mostly tillers of 
 the soil, of which both the inmates of the cot- 
 tage were natives. Nor were they in other re- 
 spects wholly beyond the reach of intercourse 
 with a certain class of the rest of the world. 
 
 Almost in the rear of their cabin, and quite 
 near to it, was a copious spring of most excellent 
 water, from which flowed a little stream to min- 
 gle with the great ocean of waters like the infant 
 whose life goes out, after a brief existence here, 
 to mingle with the spirit of the Eternal and the 
 Infinite. 
 
 Both the little bay and the spring of water 
 
10 STRANGE VISITORS. 
 
 were known to the coasters that traded between 
 the Northern and Southern provinces, for the 
 Independent United States, as a nation, was a 
 thing then, yet to be. Stress of weather, or 
 want of fresh water, occasionally caused a coaster 
 to put in at what they had named Cold Spring 
 Cove. To those on board, a string of perch 
 or pickerel from a large pond half a mile from 
 the cabin, or a few wild ducks, or other water 
 fowl, were always acceptable, and for which they 
 paid liberally, as is characteristic of sailors. 
 
 It was his love of the life of a hunter, or gun- 
 ner and fisher, that had induced Than Clifford 
 to select this as the place of his residence. He 
 had erected the hut, and spent several years here 
 alone, before he took a wife to share with him 
 the blessings of his home. They lived a simple, 
 happy life, in their way, and were content with 
 their lot, which is a great factor in the make- 
 up of human happiness. And here they seemed 
 destined to live their allotted time on earth, and 
 would have done so, doubtless, but for an event 
 that occurred one summer night as they watched 
 over their feeble and suffering child. 
 
 It was a clear, bright, calm moonlight night ; 
 
STRANGE VISITORS. II 
 
 scarcely a breath of air was perceptible, and, ex- 
 cept the low moan of the little sufferer, no sound 
 was heard save the sigh of the old ocean as its 
 light waves rippled and sighed on the sandy 
 beach. 
 
 The only light that the cabin afforded was 
 from a pitch-pine knot that blazed brightly, fas- 
 tened to a hook suspended on the crane in the 
 deep fireplace of the rude stone chimney. It 
 was past midnight, and the child which had from 
 sunset tossed restlessly with a burning fever, be- 
 gan to beg piteously for water, cold water. 
 
 " O mamma ! water, cold water ; do give 
 me water!" 
 
 Thus he had called on mamma or papa, when 
 at last the kind-hearted father said, " He shall 
 have some water.*' 
 
 " Folks say cold water is drefful bad in fevers/' 
 replied the little wife sadly and doubtfully. 
 
 " The little fellow can't live, and he shall have 
 what he wants now," said the father, as he seized 
 the gourd-shell dipper, and, hurrying to the 
 spring, soon returned it brimming with the cov- 
 eted beverage. Gently raising the frail little 
 boy, he seized the dipper with both hands, and 
 
12 STRANGE VISITORS. 
 
 nearly swallowed its contents before he could' 
 be restrained. The terrified parents expected 
 to see the child breathe his last from the fatal 
 effects of the heavy draught of cold water, but 
 instead, his restlessness abated and he fell into 
 a quiet sleep. 
 
 While they remained watching in almost 
 breathless silence, the sound of the measured 
 dip of oars was heard from the deep, then the 
 low murmur of voices, followed very soon by 
 the grate of the keel or prow of a boat upon the 
 gravelly shore. Footsteps approached, and a 
 man in the garb of a sailor, with a slightly foreign 
 accent, spoke to them from the open door : 
 
 " Our vessel has been wrecked at sea, and we 
 have a young child whose friends are in another 
 boat. We have seen your light, and have come 
 to leave the child for a few days, when its friends 
 will come for it." 
 
 " Ye're welcome tu ; and if 'twant for our 
 sick little boy, we'd make room for ye all," 
 said Than. 
 
 " If we get shelter for the child we can take 
 care of ourselves," returned the stranger. 
 
 Thereupon a young woman of comely appear- 
 
STRANGE VISITORS. 13 
 
 ance, but evidently of partly African lineage, en- 
 tered, bearing a child asleep in her arms, which 
 she laid upon the bed in the room, and, as she 
 did so, burst into tears as she hung a moment 
 over her sleeping charge. 
 
 "Come along," said the stranger harshly, as 
 he stood outside the door. 
 
 " Dear child," sobbed the young woman, 
 "your mother's an angel, and will watch over 
 you, now," and, turning, left the cabin. Just then 
 two men set a trunk or chest inside the door, and 
 without further words the strangers returned to 
 their boat and pushed off. 
 
 Than and his wife, for a moment forgetful of 
 their sick boy, stood listening in silence till 
 every sound died away on the deep. They 
 then turned to look upon the face of the little 
 stranger, and as Debby turned back the light 
 silken veil, she exclaimed : 
 
 " As white as a lily ! and du see ! what a picter 
 it is. I was afeered 'twas a color'd baby." 
 
 " Tears ter me them was queer sort o' folks," 
 said Than. " They said their ship'd been cast 
 away, but there hain't been no storm for more'n 
 a month that would wreck a skiff at sea." 
 
14 STRANGE VISITORS. 
 
 " Ye know/' said his wife, " they said some- 
 body'd come for the child. It's a little girl.'' 
 
 "Wai, p'raps they will," said Than. Then 
 turning to their own sick boy, they grew alarmed 
 for fear he was dead, his breathing was so soft 
 and low, but they soon became convinced of 
 their mistake, for he was in a profuse perspira- 
 tion. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. 
 
 ALL in the little cabin by the sea slept 
 soundly long after the sun was up, but 
 a heavy mist had settled down over sea and 
 shore, shutting out its bright beams. When 
 she awoke, the stranger girl who was little, if 
 any, more than a year and a half or two years 
 old, started up and looked with alarm on the 
 strange faces around her, and the place in which 
 she found herself, and began to cry and call for 
 "Tay," "Tay!" 
 
 The strange voice awoke the sick boy, who, 
 to the surprise of his parents, rose and sat up 
 on his tiny couch or bed. The little stranger 
 seeing him, stopped crying and looked pleased, 
 and the kindly voice and manner of the hunter's 
 wife soon allayed all fears on the part of the 
 little girl. 
 
 She was in her night clothes when brought to 
 the cabin. Everything about her, and her 
 '5 
 
1 6 INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. 
 
 clothes, of which there were many changes 
 in the chest left with her, were of rich and 
 beautiful material, but no name appeared on 
 anything except a little cap, which had the name 
 Winifred, curiously wrought with dark silken 
 hair, upon the inside. 
 
 When the child had exchanged her night 
 dress for the clothes which it was evident she 
 had worn the day before, as they lay upon the 
 top of the contents of the chest, she went at 
 once to the bed on which the sick boy lay. 
 He had sat up but a few moments after be- 
 ing aroused by the voice of the little stranger, 
 but it was evident that the fever had left him, 
 and his happy father and mother looked upon 
 him almost as alive from the dead. The little 
 boy, whose name was Caleb, put out his small 
 thin white hand, and the little girl took it in 
 both hers, with a happy look on her sweet face. 
 
 "Poor baby sick," said she. 
 
 "The darlin'!" ejaculated the cotter's wife, 
 who already loved the little stranger. 
 
 "She is a picter, sartin," returned her hus- 
 band in an undertone. " What du ye s'pose is 
 become of her father and mother ? " 
 
INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. I/ 
 
 " Everything seems mysterious. Them men 
 last night acted strange, and that air color'd 
 woman most of all on 'em/' she replied. 
 
 " S'posen nobody should never come arter the 
 child ? " 
 
 " We won't think 'bout that yit, Than ; but if 
 the Lord has sent her tu us, He'll provide a way 
 for us to take keer on 'er." 
 
 "That's sartin, Debby." 
 
 Days came and went, and weeks glided into 
 months, and the little waif from the mysterious 
 deep was still a dweller unclaimed in the hunter 
 and fisher's cabin. From the morning after her 
 advent the puny, sickly Caleb had slowly im- 
 proved, and, during the warm and pleasant 
 weather, the two children were constantly to- 
 gether, amusing themselves with the shells and 
 bright pebbles along the sea-shore. 
 
 At first, Caleb was almost as weak as infancy, 
 and it was amusing and interesting to see how 
 his little companion cared for and assisted him. 
 She would throw her little arms around him, to 
 help him get up, and when he sat down she 
 would often take his hand in her lap and prattle 
 and talk to him in her pretty baby way. 
 
1 8 INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. 
 
 But he rapidly improved, and as the cooler and 
 more bracing weather of early autumn came on, 
 he outgrew the strength of his little companion, 
 and in turn was often able to help and comfort 
 her. 
 
 The cup of happiness at the cabin would seem 
 to have been full, but that their friends and ac- 
 quaintances in the neighboring settlement began 
 to interfere, and proposed to manage their affairs 
 for them. They insisted that it was not right 
 that they should care for and bring up one 
 who might be the chance offspring of some law- 
 less rovers of the deep, and who, when she should 
 be grown to years approaching womanhood, and 
 be able to be of some service to them, would 
 snatch her away without so much as a "thank 
 you/' for their trouble. 
 
 Notwithstanding Than and Debby put aside all 
 thought of such a result, and declared they loved 
 Winifred as dearly as though she were their own, 
 the more worldly-wise determined to act a wiser 
 part for them, and remove the child to some pub- 
 lic charitable institution to be cared for. 
 
 When the cotter and his wife became aware 
 of this they were greatly distressed. They would 
 
INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. IQ 
 
 scarcely have felt worse had the purpose been to 
 take Caleb from them. 
 
 The middle of September drew on, and the 
 time of that event, dreaded by coasters, known 
 as "the line-storm," was at hand. Capt. Dow 
 of Portsmouth was then making a run from that 
 place to Charleston in the Carolinas, hoping to 
 get safely back to port before the anticipated 
 storm should occur. He had been to Charles- 
 ton, and was on his way back, and in the vicinity 
 of Cold Spring Cove, the location of which he 
 was well aware, when, as night drew on, the sky 
 blackened, and a regular " Northeaster " set in. 
 All the canvas that it was safe to sail under, 
 was pressed into service, to enable the vessel to 
 reach the "Cove." The desired haven was at 
 last made in safety, and the coaster anchored 
 where it could ride out the toughest blow with- 
 out fear of damage. 
 
 While bargaining with Than for his fresh fish 
 and wild fowls, to supply his crew, for the storm 
 continued several days, Capt. Dow asked him 
 why he stayed in that barren and desolate place. 
 
 " There's nowhere else I can go tu," said 
 Than. 
 
2O INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. 
 
 " No place, man ! why, the world is large, and 
 you can't find another place on it so forlorn and 
 forsaken as this is. Anywhere is better than to 
 stay and spend your days here. For the sake of 
 those two bright children of yours, you ought to 
 go where you can give them a chance to live and 
 see the world," Capt. Dow told him. 
 
 " I don't know as I could get a livin' anywhere 
 else," replied Than. 
 
 " Get a living ! bless your soul, you have 
 hands, and an able body. Get aboard of my 
 coaster, The Betty, and let me take you up to 
 Portsmouth, and I'll warrant you'll find getting 
 a living easy enough. There ain't men enough 
 there to do the work that's wanted. Just say 
 the word, and as soon as the storm abates, we'll 
 take you aboard." 
 
 That night Than and his wife talked the mat- 
 ter over together. 
 
 " The Bible says the Lord will take keer on 
 us if we du our duty, and trust in Him," said 
 Debby. 
 
 " Duse it say so ? " asked Than. 
 
 " Yis, it duse ; and now, what had we oughter 
 tu du ? This here little darlin' was sent tu us by 
 
INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. 21 
 
 Him, and has she been any burden tu us sense 
 she's been with us ? " 
 
 "No. Burden? no; she's jest been a little 
 blessid darlin' tu us, and I bleeve Caleb 
 wouldn't 'uv been half's well's he is now, if 
 'twan't for dear little Winnie.'* 
 
 " Jest so I think. Then if the Lord sent her 
 tu us we'd oughter tu take keer on her," con- 
 tinued Debby. 
 
 "That's jest so." 
 
 " And now the Lord has sent tu us the way tu 
 keep her, and p'raps He wants us tu go way from 
 here. And, Than, though we are happy here 
 now, would Caleb and Winnie be happy if they 
 growed up here ? " 
 
 "Wai, Cap'n Dow says this ere is no place for 
 a man tu live, and I s'pose 'tain't ; so we'll jest 
 take his 'dvice, and go 'way with him." 
 
 The sky was clear the next morning, and 
 though the breast of old ocean heaved and 
 moaned, the gentle west wind was rapidly sooth- 
 ing and calming its commotion. During their 
 three days' imprisonment at Cold Spring Cove, 
 by the storm, Capt. Dow and the crew of 
 The Betty had become attached to the house- 
 
22 INTERFERENCE OF NEIGHBORS. 
 
 hold of Than and Debby : the two children 
 had become especial favorites. 
 
 Debby had managed to get garments adapted 
 to their condition, for Winnie, for she said she 
 didn't want strangers to know but she was her 
 own child ; and as Debby was herself fair and 
 comely, no one would remark upon the beauty 
 of the little girl. 
 
 It was the early part of June when Winnie was 
 left at the Cove, and it was now past the middle 
 of September, and no one had come to claim 
 her; so Than and Debby concluded that she 
 had been left there to be abandoned by those 
 who had brought her to this out-of-the-way 
 place. 
 
 Lest any one at the settlement should think 
 foul play had been practised upon the household 
 at the Cove, Capt. Dow left chalked upon the 
 wall over the fireplace, 
 
 Gone to Portsmouth, N. Hampshire, on 
 Board The Betty, 
 
 Z. Dow, Captain. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 ^ ^HE stir and bustle of a commercial town 
 X like Portsmouth, even at that day, was a 
 new experience to Than and Debby, and, for a 
 time, they grew homesick, and sighed for the 
 quiet of their humble cot at Cold Spring Cove. 
 
 Capt. Dow had been pretty busy on his arri- 
 val at the wharf, and, in a measure, forgot the 
 hunter and his household. So, after a while, 
 Than forsook The Betty and wandered into the 
 town, leaving Debby and the children on board. 
 He had not gone far when he espied what ap- 
 peared to be an unoccupied place of shelter at a 
 little distance in the rear of a mansion house, 
 to which he went, to learn if he might be allowed 
 to take possession of the small building that 
 seemed to belong to the premises, and found 
 the mansion house tenantless also. 
 
 Almost bewildered with the stir and evident 
 energy and activity of everybody and everything 
 23 
 
24 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 around him, he returned to The Betty just as 
 Capt. Dow was making inquiry for him. 
 
 "Oh! here you are," said the burly, good-na- 
 tured and kind-hearted captain. "Well, you 
 have been taking a look at the town ? It's a lit- 
 tle different from Cold Spring Cove, eh?" 
 
 "Yis; but I most wish I was back there," 
 said Than despondingly. 
 
 "Oh! you'll feel different after you've been 
 here a few days. We must find you a house, 
 the first thing." 
 
 "I seen a house up here a piece not a great 
 way from a great house and there hain't no- 
 body in neether on 'em." 
 
 "That's the Longridge place." 
 
 Just then a man of distinguished appearance 
 approached Capt. Dow, and, addressing him re- 
 spectfully, ^inquired after the success of his late 
 voyage, then inquired concerning a certain mat- 
 ter of business in which he seemed interested in 
 Charleston in the Carolinas. 
 
 "Yes, Governor," replied Capt. Dow, "the 
 matter is prospering, and will prove successful." 
 
 The Governor (for it was none other than Gov- 
 ernor John Wentworth the younger) expressed 
 
THE REMOVAL. 25 
 
 himself well satisfied, and was turning away when 
 Capt. Dow said : 
 
 "Gov. Wentworth, do you think there would 
 be any objection for a poor, but honest family, to 
 occupy the gardener's lodge at the Longridge 
 place?" 
 
 "Not the slightest ; for my part, I think it will 
 be well for the tenement to be occupied, and so 
 have somebody on the premises till the owner 
 returns." 
 
 "This is the family," pointing to Than, his 
 wife, and the two children near. 
 
 "No matter if they are poor, if they are, as 
 you say, honest. They can't be very poor with 
 two such beautiful children," said the Governor, 
 as he looked with admiration upon the face of 
 Winnie. He was childless, though a lover and 
 the friend of children. 
 
 "But that little boy looks puny and sickly," 
 continued the Governor, "and needs a home. 
 Get them up there, Captain, and I will send my 
 servant up with something to make them com- 
 fortable. I shall need a man to work for me in 
 place of the one who died a few days ago, and 
 perhaps this man will make his place good." 
 
26 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 "I dare say he will," said Capt. Dow. 
 
 Than and his household had little occasion to 
 regret their exchange of the Cove for Ports- 
 mouth. Of course everything was new, and 
 strange to them, at first, but they had not been 
 long there when Debby, who was of a devout 
 and trustful spirit, reminded Than of the prom- 
 ise in the Bible, that the Lord would provide for 
 all who did right, or what they thought to be so, 
 and trust in Him, and how it was verified in their 
 case. 
 
 Than could not read himself, and received from 
 his wife all he knew of the sacred volume. She 
 was extremely limited in the extent of her lit- 
 erary attainments, and really had but one book, 
 which was the Bible, but this, like the material 
 sun of the universe, that gives light to all the 
 other bodies, enlightens all other books, even 
 those which seek to eclipse or hide it. Of late 
 Debby had found more than usual comfort in its 
 pages, and, though limited in knowledge and 
 refinement, she became insensibly improved and, 
 in a measure, cultured, by acquaintance with its 
 pages. 
 
 It is surprising how greatly the circumstances 
 
THE REMOVAL. 2/ 
 
 and condition of things around us affect our 
 characters and influence our motives and pur- 
 poses. The careless, easy, improvident Than of 
 Cold Spring Cove became, in the midst of enter- 
 prise and activity, another man. The stir and 
 commotion of trade and improvements soon be- 
 came agreeable to him, and caused his blood to 
 circulate with more energy and force. 
 
 Two or three years or more pass and Than be- 
 comes aware that the estate on which is the ten- 
 ement he occupies, is claimed by several parties, 
 because of the death of its former owner. Among 
 them is a man whom he soon learns is very much 
 disliked by the people of the town, owing to 
 some base transaction in which he was suspected 
 of being concerned several years before. The 
 feeling of the public had run so high against him 
 that he had been obliged to leave the town, and 
 not till very recently had returned to it. It had 
 become pretty generally understood that, as the 
 nearest of kin to the former owner, Mr. Long- 
 ridge, who had died abroad, or been lost at sea, 
 he would come into possession of the property. 
 
 His name was Humphrey Dugan, but owing to 
 the transaction of which he was suspected and 
 
28 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 accused of, he was called Kidnaper Dugan, or 
 simply The Kidnaper. It was four or five years 
 after Than took possession of the gardener's 
 lodge on the premises, that Dugan obtained the 
 judgment of the court in his favor as the right- 
 ful possessor of the property. 
 
 He was a dark-browed, bullet-headed, sinister- 
 looking man. Every one in Portsmouth would 
 have preferred that any other man should have 
 succeeded to the property of Mr. Longridge, who 
 was a most worthy and excellent person. It was 
 hoped that at least Dugan had somewhat im- 
 proved with years, but it soon became evident 
 that the Ethiopian had not changed his skin, or 
 the leopard his spots. 
 
 For some reason, he had taken offence at 
 Than, and a few days after taking possession of 
 the premises, he came, with his servant, who was 
 "like master, like man," and without a moment's 
 warning turned the family out doors, and, in no 
 very careful manner, tumbled the few effects of 
 the household out after them, and nailed up the 
 door. 
 
 Than was away at the time, being still in the 
 employ of Gov. Wentworth, by whom he was 
 
THE REMOVAL. 29 
 
 regarded with much favor. This was probably 
 the cause of Dugan's spiteful treatment of Than's 
 family, for Gov. Wentworth had been bitterly 
 opposed to Dugan's getting possession of the 
 property, as he and Mr. Longridge had been 
 warm friends. 
 
 Gov. Wentworth was a man of very great 
 enterprise, and not only encouraged others in 
 manufactures, and especially in agriculture, but 
 engaged extensively in both himself. He had 
 bought an estate on the shore of the Winnipe- 
 sockee Lake, in the town of Wolfborough, then 
 considered, as it really was, far in the interior, 
 and here he built an elegant and stately man- 
 sion, and in every way improved the premises 
 around it. His dwelling in Portsmouth was a 
 pattern of taste and elegance. 
 
 His manufacturing operations were mostly con- 
 fined to converting the forests into lumber, large 
 quantities of which were shipped to England. 
 The forests on the Piscataqua and its branches, 
 which, from the main river, spread out into the 
 country in almost every direction, abounded in 
 the finest timber trees, especially of white pine, 
 to be found anywhere in the world. And on all 
 
3O THE REMOVAL. 
 
 the branches of the river were mills in active 
 operation converting them into lumber, or were 
 taken for the navies of the old world. 
 
 Gov. Wentworth had an interest in the mills 
 on the Lamprey River, and had already intimated 
 to Than that he wanted him to go up there. 
 
 Though slight of frame, Than had shown him- 
 self possessed of uncommon strength and activ- 
 ity, which the Governor had told him ought to 
 be employed in some more important pursuit 
 than that of a mere servant. This sudden break- 
 ing up of his household gave a good opportunity 
 to make the change. The conservative nature 
 and disposition of Than led him to dislike any 
 change of place, or business, and unless driven 
 into it, as he had been at leaving the Cove, on 
 the Southern Coast, he would never have done 
 so. But Debby quite favored the plan. Per- 
 haps she dreaded living in the vicinity of The 
 Kidnaper, for she had conceived a great horror 
 of him, and Winnie, when he came to put the 
 family from the house, actually screamed with 
 terror at sight of him. 
 
 When Than spoke to his wife about going up 
 to Lamprey River, as the thriving manufacturing 
 
THE REMOVAL. 3! 
 
 village of New Market was then, and long after- 
 ward called, she at once favored the plan. 
 
 "Ye know," said she, "we dreaded to leave 
 our hut in the Cove, but the Lord opened the 
 way for us, and would ye be willin' now tu go 
 back there as we was then ? " 
 
 " No, Debby, no. 'Twas a great mercy that 
 sent us away from there." 
 
 " Yis, Than, so it was ; and it is the same Hand 
 that is in our breakin' up here. Let us trust in 
 the Lord, and be led of Him. Ye know we 
 have found Him faithful in all His promises." 
 
 " We will go," said Than. " A gundalow is 
 goin' up to-morrow mornin', and the Governor 
 says it can take our things, and us tu, right up 
 there; and there's a house all ready for us." 
 
 Gundalow was the provincial, doubtless, for 
 gondola, but the real gundalow was an equally 
 clumsy craft, as gundalow is more clumsy and 
 harsh in sound than gondola. 
 
 The gundalow is a huge, nearly flat-bottomed 
 boat, or scow, capable of carrying immense 
 loads of lumber, or merchandise, up or down the 
 river where there is little or no current to op- 
 pose it. On the Piscataqua and its branches, 
 
32 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 there are currents both up and down the river, 
 in each twenty-four hours, owing to the ocean 
 tides with which they are favored at the falls at 
 the head of tide-water. These huge, slow-mov- 
 ing gundalows carry merchandise inland, and 
 bring the products of the interior to the sea- 
 board. 
 
 Two or three men are usually employed to 
 man them, the principal or head one of whom is 
 called the skipper. Early in the morning Than 
 and his family were taken to the wharf and 
 shipped on board a gundalow for Lamprey 
 River, to be employed in the mills in w r hich 
 Gov. Wentworth and others at Portsmouth, 
 were interested. 
 
 It was a bright, warm day in springtime, and 
 the voyage, though slow, was a pleasant one, as 
 it was through attractive scenes that varied at 
 every turn. The crew consisted of the skipper, 
 two men, and a boy, though the latter was of 
 little account, but proved an amusing com- 
 panion to the two children, Caleb and Winnie. 
 
 The skipper, whose name was Langley, was a 
 huge, round-shouldered, blear-eyed, and yet a 
 good-natured man. Of the other two men, one 
 
THE REMOVAL. 33 
 
 was a mulatto, also large and muscular, with a 
 sad face, and grizzled hair, apparently fifty or 
 sixty years of age, and the boy was his son, but 
 several shades lighter; his mother having been 
 nearly or quite white. Of the remaining man 
 little need be said, only that he was of the ordi- 
 nary type of river men of that day. The colored 
 man went by the name of Uncle Zeeb. The crew 
 were well matched, and the utmost harmony 
 prevailed among them. 
 
 Skipper Langley was a man of few words, and 
 seemed often to defer to the judgment of Uncle 
 Zeeb, in case of matters of doubt, and Nicholas 
 Torr, which was the name of the other man, or 
 Nick Torr, for short, was the youngest of the 
 crew, who was a patient and faithful hand, never 
 shirking or grumbling at the work to be done. 
 
 The boy, whose name was James, or Jim, was 
 a funny fellow, about a dozen years old. He 
 was no help on the gundalow, of any account, 
 and his father kept him there to keep him out 
 of mischief elsewhere. Trapping and fishing 
 and scurrying round generally were more to his 
 liking when left to himself. 
 
 Uncle Zeeb had known better, or rather hap- 
 
34 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 pier days. Some ten or a dozen years before, 
 he was living in Portsmouth, in a comfortable 
 home with his family a wife and a very comely 
 daughter, fifteen or sixteen years of age, and 
 Jim, who was then but a year or two old. One 
 evening, while Uncle Zeeb was away, two men 
 came to the door and inquired for him. Lute, 
 the daughter, went to answer the call, and was 
 immediately seized. She screamed, when her 
 mouth was instantly muffled, and she was borne 
 off struggling ineffectually to free herself or call 
 for help. 
 
 An alarm was at once raised and an effort made 
 to rescue the girl, but her abductors succeeded 
 in hurrying her into a boat that was hastily 
 rowed off to a Spanish brigantine that had put 
 into port there a few days before. As soon as 
 Lute was taken on board, the brigantine weighed 
 anchor and put to sea, and that was the last that 
 had ever been seen or heard of the girl. Her 
 mother survived the shock but a short time, and 
 the happy home of Uncle Zeeb was thus ruth- 
 lessly broken up forever. 
 
 There was but one man on whom suspicion 
 fell as being concerned in the foul deed, and 
 
THE REMOVAL. 35 
 
 that was Humphrey Dugan, who was known to 
 be the distant relative of one of Portsmouth's 
 most respected citizens, Jonathan Longridge. 
 He was a gentleman engaged mostly in trade 
 with the West Indies, and the owner of a large 
 fortune. 
 
 On account of his wife's health he had left 
 home to spend a winter with her in Cuba, and 
 to look after his commercial interests there, 
 and in other of the Islands. During the absence 
 his wife gave birth to a child, and their stay was 
 thus prolonged to more than double the time 
 they anticipated being absent. 
 
 The last tidings received from him was, that 
 his wife had died, and that with his child and its 
 nurse he should shortly sail for home. Months 
 and even years had passed and no tidings could 
 be gathered of him, only that he had embarked 
 for home on a vessel that was never after 
 heard from. It was thus that Dugan, the hated 
 and despised Kidnaper, as all believed him to be, 
 became possessed of the Longridge estate. Per- 
 haps the testimony against him was not suffi- 
 cient fully to convict him of the crime, but 
 nobody doubted his guilt, and he knew it. 
 
36 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 There were those who went so far as to surmise 
 that he had a hand in the fate of Mr. Longridge. 
 
 If he had sufficient means of communication 
 with a piratical craft such as had borne off the 
 beautiful and attractive Lute, why not connive 
 with the same for the destruction of the vessel 
 on which Mr. Longridge had taken passage for 
 homeland thus gain possession of his wealth? 
 This, of course, was all suspicion, but there were 
 many who believed him wicked enough to ac- 
 complish it. 
 
 On the way up to Lamprey River, a very 
 pleasant companionship was soon established 
 between Jim and the two children. 
 
 As they were making their way slowly through 
 Great Bay, a beautiful body of water when the 
 tide is in, and which was now the current that 
 bore them inland, Jim, having hooks and lines 
 for fishing, greatly interested Caleb. He was 
 still a pale, puny boy, but much better in health 
 than his condition once gave promise of his 
 being. Then, in one way and another, he made 
 friends with Winnie, and, by tricks and perform- 
 ances at which he was very apt, he overcame her 
 shyness. 
 
THE REMOVAL. 37 
 
 As the gundalow rounded the point to pass 
 from Great Bay into the Lamprey River, it came 
 very near to the land. Something there at- 
 tracted Jim's attention, and with the agility of a 
 cat, or panther, he sprang from the gundalow 
 and scampered off into the woods. In a short 
 time he re-appeared standing on a rock near the 
 channel of the river, holding something in his 
 hands, and as the gundalow came alongside, 
 brought as near as was safe by the good-natured 
 skipper, Jim sprang safely on board and pre- 
 sented Winnie with a wee young rabbit. 
 
 She was afraid of it, but being assured he 
 would neither bite nor scratch, she took the 
 harmless little animal in her hands. It seemed 
 alarmed at its captivity at first, but in a short 
 time consented to feed from Winnie's hand, 
 greatly to her delight and interest. Jim soon 
 had a cage and all necessary arrangements pro- 
 vided for the little prisoner, to the great satisfac- 
 tion of both children. 
 
 It was about the middle of the afternoon 
 when the gundalow arrived at Lamprey River, 
 and Jim made himself very serviceable in taking 
 care of the children, and in various other ways 
 
38 THE REMOVAL. 
 
 while Than and his wife were setting their new 
 quarters in order. 
 
 That night Jim slept, as usual, on the gunda- 
 low, but was early at the house in the morning, 
 to take the children out and show them around 
 their new home. When asked if he had taken 
 breakfast, he replied that he had had some, but 
 could eat more ; and so was invited to sit at 
 table with them. He had been well brought up, 
 and took so naturally to the family and the chil- 
 dren, that both Than and his wife were glad to 
 have him with them, for a time, at least until 
 Caleb and Winnie began to feel at home ; and 
 Uncle Zeeb was willing he should remain there. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JIM. 
 
 LUMBERING and milling proved a new 
 business for Than, and for a time he was 
 almost homesick again. 
 
 " 'F 't hadn't been for that 'ere horrid Dugan, 
 we c'u'd 'a' staid in Portsmouth," said he. 
 
 "And if 't hadn't been for them folks in the 
 settlement by the Cove, we might 'a' staid there 
 till this time. Du ye wish we had, Than ? " said 
 Debby. 
 
 " Du I wish it, Debby ? Ye don't mean it." 
 
 "Wai, we on'y jest follered the leadin' of 
 Providence then, and wa'n't it harder tu come 
 'way from the Cove than 'twas to come here ? " 
 
 "Yis; 'nuff sight." 
 
 "Wall, ye see it's jest 's much the leadin' of 
 Providence that brought us here as 'twas tu take 
 us from the Cove to Portsmouth. So isn't it 
 better to be thankful than tu murmur? " 
 
 " Yis, Debby, I 'spect 'tis ; but a body can't 
 39 
 
40 JIM. 
 
 help gettin' discouraged, sometimes, at bein' 
 knocked round 's we be, ye know/' 
 
 Than, while in the employ of Gov. Went- 
 worth, received instruction in many things of 
 which, up to that time, he was altogether igno- 
 rant. 
 
 Gov. Wentworth, as already stated, was an 
 enthusiast in farming, and inspired all about him 
 with a portion of his own spirit. 
 
 It. was the planting season, and land was fur- 
 nished Than for everything he wished to plant 
 or sow. And here, also, Jim was found of great 
 service, and it was a matter of interest to see 
 him, who had been accounted a lazy, worthless 
 lad, destined to grow up in idleness and va- 
 grancy, sweating and toiling to the utmost of 
 his strength in the service of those to whom he 
 had become so strongly attached. 
 
 One evening Than said to Debby, "What 'f 
 we jest let Jim live with us ? 'Cause he's a real 
 help, an' as he's growin' he'll be more 'n' more 
 help tu us." 
 
 " I shall be glad tu have him, I'm sure. Caleb 
 likes tu go off fishin' and huntin' with him when 
 he ain't 't work ; and I can see he grows stronger." 
 
JIM. 41 
 
 "Jim's a good boy, I think; but everybody 
 says he's lazy." 
 
 " Lazy ! I never saw a boy work harder 'n he 
 does when there's anything he can du." 
 
 " Bymeby he'll be big 'nuff to work in the saw 
 mill, and help me a sight." 
 
 "Wai, I'll fix a bed for him, and you can talk 
 to his father 'bout it." 
 
 " Oh ! he'll be glad to hev him stay, 'cause he 
 told me so when I seen him t'other day." 
 
 Jim himself was delighted with the arrange- 
 ment. The secret of the change that had come 
 over him was, that he had somebody to take an 
 interest in him, and somebody to love. He 
 loved the whole household, and the children with 
 all his heart. He never failed to bring home 
 something for Winnie, when he and Caleb went 
 hunting or fishing, leaving her at home. And 
 always when they were not going far, he wanted 
 her to go with them, and she, young as she was, 
 became deeply interested in their forest rambles. 
 
 Though slight of figure, she was the picture 
 of health, but Caleb was still pale, delicate 
 and frail as a weed grown in the shade. By 
 degrees, he had become able to endure almost 
 
42 JIM. 
 
 without fatigue, long rambles, as his frame was 
 so slight he had little to carry. His limbs were 
 almost as slender as the antelope's. 
 
 After Than had been engaged a year in the 
 business at Lamprey River, he was sent to take 
 charge of the new mill at Piscassick Falls, already 
 mentioned, and Uncle Zeeb, who had left the gun- 
 dalow and lived by himself in a little hut half-way 
 between Lamprey River and the new mill, was 
 employed to assist in the work. He had a large 
 frame, and the strength almost of two common 
 men, so that he and Than, as the saying is, made 
 a " whole team." 
 
 Probably no place of the same extent in New 
 England, furnished a finer quantity of white pine 
 timber than grew along the valley of this small 
 river running back several miles, and from half a 
 mile to a mile wide. 
 
 Very many of the largest and finest of the 
 trees had been culled out years before for masts, 
 in the royal navy of England, and many had 
 been sold also for the navies of Spain and Portu- 
 gal. But they were hardly missed, so great was 
 the multitude that towered straight up, shaft- 
 like, toward the stars, and swayed in the breeze 
 
JIM. 43 
 
 and moaned as the tempest swept through them. 
 
 It seemed a sacrilege almost to sacrifice trees 
 like these, centuries old, and still unmarred by 
 age, to the greed of trade and commerce, but in 
 this way only it was that the land could be sub- 
 dued and brought under the hand of cultivation 
 a cultivation, alas ! which has well nigh re- 
 duced its soil to barrenness. But a more enlight- 
 ened spirit is giving rise to a wiser system of 
 agriculture, and the time may come that lands 
 now sterile, and almost worthless, shall become 
 fat, productive and valuable. 
 
 The lumber manufactured from these forests 
 was the wonder and admiration of the old world 
 to which it was mostly carried. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 TO ESCAPE TROUBLE. 
 
 *TT was strange that Humphrey Dugan should 
 X seem to be the evil genius of Than as well as 
 of Uncle Zeeb. He had bitter spite against Gov. 
 Wentworth, and some others in Portsmouth, for 
 having tried to keep him from getting possession 
 of the Longridge estate, and sought every means 
 in his power to injure and annoy them. 
 
 It seems that at one time Mr. Longridge 
 owned, or had an interest, in a tract of land in 
 the vicinity of the Piscassick. Gov. Wentworth 
 and others claimed that it was well known to 
 everybody interested in the lumber business, 
 that Mr. Longridge had many years before sold 
 all his interest in the timber. But this gave to 
 Dugan a chance to make trouble, and he claimed 
 a part of the lumber at the mill as his own, and 
 threatened to take it. Thereupon Than was 
 charged to defend it, and send word down to 
 Lamprey River for help if Dugan, or any one 
 44 
 
TO ESCAPE TROUBLE. 45 
 
 else, should attempt to take any away without 
 authority. 
 
 Dugan was as good as his word, and, procuring 
 a gundalow, engaged teams to bring the lumber 
 from Piscassick to the Landing at Lamprey River. 
 He went himself with them and found only Than, 
 Uncle Zeeb and the boy Jim there. Uncle Zeeb 
 he had occasion to know, but did not recognize 
 in Than any one whom he had met before. 
 When Dugan made a demonstration upon the 
 lumber Than withstood him. 
 
 " You interfere at your peril ; stand off," said 
 Dugan. 
 
 " Ye hain't a-goin to touch a board 'o this lum- 
 ber. You'll find this a different job from turning 
 women and children out-doors," said Than. 
 
 " Ah ! you're that beggar I pitched off my 
 premises ; get out of my way, I tell you," said he 
 fiercely, seizing Than, who was taller, but of less 
 weight than Dugan, and attempting to throw 
 him into the river. Than instantly closed in 
 with him, and, becoming master, gave him a se- 
 vere pounding. Dugan's head was beaten as 
 though it had been under a trip-hammer. But 
 it was all so quickly done that no one could in- 
 
46 TO ESCAPE TROUBLE. 
 
 terfere in his behalf ; so, bleeding and stunned, 
 Dugan was borne off by those who had come to 
 take possession of the lumber. 
 
 Jim had been hurried off to the mills at Lam- 
 prey River for help to defend the property, but 
 the men came hurrying to the scene of contest, 
 only to find the war, for that day, was over. 
 
 It is often said that a mild-tempered man is 
 one to be feared when fully aroused, and such 
 Dugan found Than to be. For he had an old 
 score of his own to settle ; and probably the 
 wrongs to Uncle Zeeb might have added some- 
 what to the energy of the blows that fell upon 
 the victim's head. 
 
 Than was at once a hero with all classes. 
 But Gov. Wentworth, and a few others, when 
 informed of the proceeding, agreed that though 
 Than was the party assailed, he could not be 
 justified in dealing so harshly with his aggressor. 
 Any magistrate when appealed to would feel 
 obliged to grant a process for his arrest and 
 punishment. Then, the fierce and revengeful 
 temper of Dugan, even after the law had spent 
 its force and been vindicated, was to be dreaded. 
 
 Under these considerations the question arose, 
 
TO ESCAPE TROUBLE. 47 
 
 What could be done for Than? whom nobody 
 blamed, but everybody extolled for what he had 
 done Gov. Wentworth and his associates with 
 the rest. 
 
 These latter gentlemen were determined that 
 some plan should be devised to save him from 
 the vengeance of Dugan, and even such punish- 
 ment as the law might deem proper. 
 
 Theodore Atkinson, a coadjutor of Gov. Went- 
 worth's, was one of the purchasers of the old 
 Captain John Mason claim to the territory of 
 New Hampshire, which, from generation to gen- 
 eration before, had disturbed the peace and the 
 prosperity of the province by persistent litiga- 
 tion on the part of those interested in it. All 
 the territory back of the incorporated towns, 
 the most advanced of which were Kingston, 
 Nottingham, Deerfield, Epsom, Northwood, Bar- 
 rington and Rochester was open to settlers, and 
 even much in the old towns was in the same 
 condition, and, claimed by the heirs of the origi- 
 nal proprietors, was now owned by Mr. Atkin- 
 son and his associates. 
 
 It was finally concluded to help Than make 
 a home for himself in the interior, quite beyond 
 
48 TO ESCAPE TROUBLE. 
 
 the reach and search of Dugan. In order to do 
 this, his departure must be speedy and secret, 
 and his location miles in advance of the frontier 
 settlements. 
 
 ' Epsom had been partially settled a few years 
 already, but the inhabitants were few. The same 
 was the case with Northwood, but between 
 these and the Winnipesockee Lake stretched 
 an unbroken wilderness, "where the foot of 
 man had ne'er or rarely been." If Than should 
 penetrate this territory far enough he would be 
 entirely safe from discovery and the pursuit of 
 Dugan. 
 
 When this plan was suggested to him he re- 
 garded it with small favor, though he said little 
 to the designers to oppose it. But to his wife 
 he expressed his bitter complaints for being 
 obliged to hide himself in the wilderness. 
 
 " I jest wish now I never 'd left the old hut at 
 the Cove," said he. 
 
 "It does seem awful hard, Than, but let us 
 remember the hand of the Lord is in all things. 
 Everything that has come tu us yit has proved 
 a blessin' in disguise, ye know, Than, and pr'aps 
 this may." 
 
TO ESCAPE TROUBLE. 49 
 
 "How can it be a blessin' to have to live 
 alone in the woods, Debby ? " 
 
 " Ye know, Than, we was happy when we 
 lived alone at the Cove, and we sha'n't be much 
 more alone in the woods." 
 
 " We had the sea then, and could see vessels 
 pass now'n then, but when we're in the woods 
 there's nothing to see nor hear," said Than de- 
 spondently. 
 
 " The Bible says, ' Fear not, for I am with 
 thee.' ' Be not dismayed, for I am thy God.' 
 Now if we have God with us, we needn't fear 
 nothin'." 
 
 " Wai, Debby, you've oilers been right in your 
 way of lookin' at things, and p'raps ye are now, 
 but I can't see how it can be this time." 
 
 " We couldn't see how it was goin' tu be for 
 the best when they brought us up here, but we 
 were sayin' only t'other day how much better 
 off we are here than in Portsmouth." 
 
 " That are is true, sartin." 
 
 "The ways of Providence is often dark and 
 mysterious, but we know that all things works 
 together for good tu them that trust in the Lord 
 and are led by Him." 
 
5O TO ESCAPE TROUBLE. 
 
 "Wai, there's no other way tu do, so to-night 
 Uncle Zeeb and Jim and I'll start." 
 
 "Are ye all goin'? " 
 
 " Yis ; the Gov'ner and the rest on 'em are 
 goin' to have a horse loaded with lots of things, 
 over to Durham, and Uncle Zeeb's goin', to 
 bring the horse back and help me find a good 
 place tu settle. Jim will stay with me, and Uncle 
 Zeeb will come every week with a hoss-load of 
 provisions." 
 
 "I'm glad Jim's goin' with ye." 
 
 "I am tu; and Jim's jest crazy tu go. It'll 
 jest suit him tu be in the woods." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SAFETY IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 AS the moon rose, full and round, Than, 
 Uncle Zeeb and Jim quietly left the Pis- 
 cassick and retired to Durham. There, at the 
 appointed place of rendezvous, they found some 
 of their friends, and the horse ready to be loaded 
 up. This was soon done, 'and definite directions 
 given as to the course they were to pursue. 
 
 A road led from Durham to a settlement in 
 the edge of Nottingham. They were to follow 
 this road that night till they came to a logging 
 camp or hut, which they would reach sometime 
 after midnight. Here they would find things 
 prepared for them to spend the rest of the night 
 comfortably, and the means for cooking their 
 breakfast. They would here be beyond danger 
 of discovery, and need not be in a hurry in the 
 morning. 
 
 From the logging camp they were to leave the 
 5 1 
 
52 SAFETY IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Nottingham road and take a cart path leading 
 to the right. This cart path extended several 
 miles into the wilderness, and they would find it 
 ran into an old Indian trail which they could 
 follow. It finally led to the Suncook River, and 
 perhaps to Winnipesockee Lake. Than was told 
 that he need not go so far as the Suncook, but 
 to select his settlement at some distance on the 
 northerly side of the trail, as less likely to be 
 discovered by pioneers and stragglers. 
 
 By taking this course Uncle Zeeb would have 
 no difficulty in returning to him whenever it was 
 necessary. 
 
 The three were soon on their way, and came, 
 in due time, to the camping place indicated, and 
 spent the night. 
 
 It was the latter half of May, just three years 
 after Than had come to Lamprey River from 
 Portsmouth, that he was making this flight from 
 the former place, and owing to the influence of 
 the man that sent him away from Portsmouth. 
 
 They halted at noon for dinner and rest, on 
 the side of a swift running brook of clear water, 
 fifteen or twenty miles from where they had 
 encamped the night previous. 
 
SAFETY IN THE WILDERNESS. 53 
 
 While Than and Uncle Zeeb were kindling a 
 fire, Jim had got out his fishing tackle, and, 
 selecting a slender pole from a clump of alders, 
 he was soon seen with a string of the finest 
 trout by his side, which assisted in furnishing a 
 dinner that was truly inviting. 
 
 An examination of their locality showed that 
 they were about midway between two heights 
 or mountains, one on either hand. The one 
 on the left is now known as the McCoy, the 
 other the Catamount, and they determined to 
 make their way to the one on the right, leaving 
 any further pursuit of the trail. Going round 
 the side of a pond they came near the foot of 
 the mountain on the easterly side, where they 
 halted, and leaving Jim with the horse to await 
 their return, Than and Uncle Zeeb started for 
 the summit of the mountain, to better survey the 
 territory around and before them. The view 
 was wide, of a silent and unbroken wilderness, 
 save where a wood-embosomed lake or pond glim- 
 mered and sparkled in the sunlight. Faintly 
 the sound of a water-fall reached their ears from 
 the Suncook River, not more than two miles 
 distant. 
 
54 SAFETY IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 Down among the foothills of the mountain 
 appeared a level space, and to this place they 
 decided to make their way. During their ab- 
 sence Jim had been trying his hand again at 
 fishing, and had taken from the pond near by 
 several large pickerel, some of which still floun- 
 dered about amid the dry leaves on the shore. 
 
 "Them's for supper," said Jim, as he pro- 
 ceeded to partially dress the fish and then string 
 them on a crotched twig, to take them along 
 with him. 
 
 On reaching the place sighted from the sum- 
 mit of the mountain, it was found to possess all 
 the qualities and advantages desirable. Upon 
 one side was a brook of clear water. The 
 ground was tolerably level, and the kind of trees 
 beech, oak and maple mostly, with a few of 
 other kinds indicated a generous soil, and a 
 spring near the middle of the level space, seemed 
 to mark the spot for a dwelling. 
 
 Though at some distance below the summit of 
 the mountain, it still had an extensive and varied 
 outlook and prospect ; and here, with Uncle 
 Zeeb's concurrence, Than decided to set up his 
 future home. 
 
SAFETY IN THE WILDERNESS. 55 
 
 It will be unnecessary to follow him in the 
 progress of his labor. It was the work of a 
 short time to provide a temporary place of shel- 
 ter and deposit for the supplies brought by the 
 horse. Uncle Zeeb remained the following day, 
 and the two, with their axes, made quite an 
 opening in the forest. 
 
 It was then arranged that Than should spend 
 the time before Uncle Zeeb's return to him 
 from below, in getting logs of the right size and 
 length for the construction of his log cabin, 
 which could be put up at that time. 
 
 Humphrey Dugan was in a rage when he 
 found his victim had escaped him. Every town 
 and settlement in the province, and some of the 
 neighboring provinces, were searched for him, 
 but no one seemed to have any knowledge of 
 his whereabouts. 
 
 Than's wife and children were moved back to 
 Lamprey River, and for months Dugan set a 
 watch about the place, to give notice of his re- 
 turn, but no information was gained in this way. 
 
 Another man was employed to take Than's 
 place at the mill, and Uncle Zeeb continued to 
 work there. His going away for a day or two, 
 
56 SAFETY IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 now and then, excited no remark or suspicion, 
 and Jim's absence was not noticed, as it was sup- 
 posed that he was up to his old habits of skurry- 
 ing off somewhere in the province, hunting, fish- 
 ing, boating or the like. 
 
 Than and Jim spent the first year at the set- 
 tlement alone, as by so doing it was easier to 
 supply the demands of the family, and the chil- 
 dren would be better off. 
 
 A little more than a year after the disappear- 
 ance of Than, his family followed him to his new 
 home. Their departure was made in such a 
 quiet manner that not a ripple was caused by 
 it on the surface of affairs. All that Dugan 
 could learn, weeks after they had left, was, that 
 they had gone, no one seemed to know when or 
 whither. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 WAL, Debby, what du ye think of this for 
 a home?" asked Than, the morning 
 after the arrival of the family, which had been 
 near the dusk of the previous evening. 
 
 " Why, it's real pleasant here ; I 'spected tu 
 find it in some lonesome, dismal place out of 
 sight of everything." 
 
 "'Tis a harnsome place, I think, tu, and now 
 you'n the children's here it'll seem like home. 
 I'd no idee I should ever like it so well." 
 
 "But where are Winnie and Caleb ? " 
 
 " Oh ! they're off with Jim, half-way up top of 
 the mountain, I dare say, by this time," said 
 Than. 
 
 A faint call "came like a falling star," and, 
 looking up, three forms could be seen against 
 the morning sky, standing on a jutting ledge 
 near the summit of the mountain. 
 
 " 'F I die, 'f they ain't way up there this min- 
 57 
 
58 ARRIVAL OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 ute ! " exclaimed the mother. " Why, if they 
 should fall they'd break their necks ! " 
 
 " They'll look out for that, I warrant ye," 
 said Than. "What a picter Winnie is growing 
 tu be," he continued. 
 
 " Yis," said Debby ; " she's the wonder and 
 admiration of everybody that sees her, but 
 nobody has any idee she ain't ourn." 
 
 " She's jest a little angel, 's what she is," said 
 Than admiringly. 
 
 "The schoolmarm said she beats all tu Tarn. 
 She can read now like a parson." 
 
 " Du tell ! Did Caleb go to school tu ? " 
 
 " Yis; but he didn't take tu readin' 's Winnie 
 did. He can read some, though. I've been 'fraid 
 'twould make Winnie vain tu have so much 
 notice taken on her by everybody, but it don't, 
 one mite." 
 
 "Wai, she's a mystery. I "Should like tu know 
 
 suthin' nuther 'bout her." 
 
 / 
 
 "If that time ever comes, she'll cease tu be 
 ourn, I'm afraid," said Debby, musingly. 
 
 "Du ye think so?" said Than. "Then I'd 
 ruther know nothin' 'bout her." 
 
 Than's log cabin was hardly after the style of 
 
ARRIVAL OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 59 
 
 the hut on the beach, at Cold Spring Cove, on 
 the Jersey shore. His ideas of architecture and 
 comfort had advanced somewhat since that was 
 left, as was manifest in his new home. The 
 walls of the cabin were low, but the roof was 
 high. Inside, the logs were hewn smooth ; and, 
 having been cut on the sides that came together, 
 these, with the aid of the clay mortar, in which 
 they were laid, made the structure tolerably 
 impervious to wind or rain. The roof was made 
 of layers of hemlock bark laid on good strong 
 rafters, and between the layers of the bark was 
 spread a thin layer of soft meadow hay, which 
 kept out both wind and snow in winter. Wholly 
 across the north end of the cabin was the stone 
 chimney, with its cavernous fireplace, capable 
 of digesting the largest logs that could be fed 
 into it. 
 
 The cabin was full twenty feet long by twelve 
 wide, and was all in one room below, with two 
 above, or in the attic. The door opened out- 
 wardly on the south end, with a window on the 
 east side, and one in the gable over the door, to 
 give light in the attics. 
 
 On the whole, the cabin was a fair specimen 
 
6O ARRIVAL OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 of frontier architecture, and decidedly comfort- 
 able. 
 
 Than and Jim had managed to make a pretty 
 broad opening in the forest, and were in a fair 
 way soon to have everything necessary to com- 
 fort around them. Uncle Zeeb often came for 
 a few days, to lend a hand with the horse, with 
 which he brought provisions, to plow and do 
 other necessary team work, and in this way 
 much had been accomplished. 
 
 To add to the advantages of the farm and 
 location, at the distance of half a mile below, 
 the brook which ran along a little way from 
 the cabin, after rushing down a rapid descent 
 nearly the whole distance, came to a natural 
 meadow or narrow intervale, without a tree or 
 shrub, covered, in the summer season, with luxu- 
 riant grass of good quality for fodder, and in 
 quantity sufficient for quite a stock of cattle and 
 sheep.* 
 
 It would be difficult to find two happier bodies 
 than Caleb and Winnie were in their new home. 
 
 *To this natural meadow the first settlers of Epsom actu- 
 ally came in summer and cut the grass, and drew it home on 
 'sleds in the winter. So I have heard my father say. 
 
ARRIVAL OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 6l 
 
 For several days after their arrival Than encour- 
 aged Jim to leave work and go round with them. 
 The top of the mountain was at first a great 
 place of attraction. The brook was the next, 
 and this they followed into the valley below, 
 bringing back large numbers of trout, and other 
 fish caught by Jim. 
 
 Running water seemed to possess a charm 
 for Winnie. She would stand, as if spellbound, 
 and gaze upon and watch it for hours at a time, 
 when Jim and Caleb were away on excursions too 
 long to be accompanied by her. She was never 
 lonesome. She seemed to find interest and 
 amusement in everything about her. 
 
 The household afforded but one book, the 
 Bible, and, young as she was, she had already 
 learned to find in its narratives and biographies 
 much to interest her, especially the books of 
 Esther and Ruth, and portions of several others. 
 But the Book of Nature as yet had the greatest 
 attraction for her. 
 
 Wild birds were numerous, and they seemed 
 scarcely to fear her. Wild flowers were abundant 
 too, and many of them strange to her ; almost 
 daily she made collections of all that could be 
 
62 ARRIVAL OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 found, and amused herself in observing the won- 
 derful variety in color, form and fragrance. 
 
 The mystery that hung about her parentage 
 caused her to be regarded by those whom she 
 called, and supposed to be, her father and mother, 
 very differently from what they would their own 
 offspring. It was not lack of affection or ten- 
 derness, but it was a certain respect and careful- 
 ness, which had an influence for good upon the 
 child, that can hardly be described. It was both 
 refining and elevating. Parents, especially at 
 that day, were often guilty of treating their chil- 
 dren as objects of commonplace, and of little 
 account, which is decidedly wrong. Of this, 
 these humble people were wholly guiltless, and 
 the result was of importance in its effect upon 
 the life of Winnie, 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE BOY HUNTERS. 
 
 THAN had been told that if he would pro- 
 vide shelter and a plenty of fodder, he 
 should be furnished with a cow, and with sheep 
 as soon as his farm was sufficiently enclosed to 
 keep them within bounds, and safe from wild 
 beasts. The place of shelter for the cow was 
 easily prepared, and the fodder readily secured 
 from the meadow, in addition to what was fur- 
 nished from the stalks of the corn, and the straw 
 from the wheat and rye. 
 
 The summer passed quickly and happily with 
 all at the cabin. And we will pass over it and 
 the autumn lightly, for few incidents worthy of 
 attention beside what have already been hinted 
 at, or that cannot be easily imagined, occurred. 
 Quite late in the fall Uncle Zeeb came with the 
 promised cow, and the next time he came with 
 provisions, he had upon the horse a small coop 
 of hens. This was the last trip of the season 
 63 
 
64 THE BOY HUNTERS. 
 
 from "below," for it could even then be said that 
 from the Northern mountains, distinctly visible 
 from the cabin, winter's 
 
 " banners flout the sky, 
 And fan our people cold." 
 
 This caused little regret. The wheat and rye 
 had been taken "below" by Uncle Zeeb, and 
 returned as flour ; and part of the corn, too, had 
 been reduced to meal, and nothing seemed lack- 
 ing to be able to withstand winter's severest 
 siege. The wood pile, in a rude building, or 
 shed, near the house, and into which a door from 
 the house opened, showed ample means for beat- 
 ing back the fiercest assaults of wintry winds, 
 however roughly they might howl around the 
 solitary cabin. 
 
 Sometimes the time dragged rather heavily 
 with Caleb and Jim, during the long winter 
 evenings. They could get through the day well 
 enough, especially Jim, as a huge pile of logs 
 had been provided just outside the woodhouse, 
 to supplement the stock within, in case the sup- 
 ply should run low, and he found enough to do 
 there to content himself. 
 
 Snowshoes were not so great a rarity in those 
 
THE BOY HUNTERS. 65 
 
 days as at present, and the trunk of a small ash- 
 tree furnished material for their construction, 
 and this for a time afforded new business for 
 both Than and the boys, day and evening. 
 Caleb seemed to have the greater ingenuity and 
 skill in this work, and his shoes were indeed a 
 sample of good workmanship. These afforded to 
 him and Jim the means of traversing the woods 
 for game, and they seldom returned to the cabin 
 empty-handed. 
 
 Caleb was now in his teens, and though, per- 
 haps, as tall as many boys of his age, he was of 
 scarce half the usual weight. At first sight his 
 slight frame and apparently bloodless face, would 
 impress one that he was on the verge of the 
 grave, but the light of his small, but clear gray 
 eye, indicated a bright, sharp spirit within. He 
 was a wonder to his mother, whose care and 
 anxiety for him were always on the alert. She 
 felt that any severe sickness, or even severe cold, 
 might prove fatal to his delicate constitution, 
 and was disposed to check his love of hunting 
 and tramping through the forest with Jim, who 
 never seemed to find fatigue or hardship in any- 
 thing. 
 
66 THE BOY HUNTERS. 
 
 While on their tramps, Jim always insisted 
 on carrying both guns till they were likely to be 
 wanted for use ; and the same with any other 
 burden. And it is doubtful if he would not 
 have borne Caleb too, if allowed to. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 
 
 THE winter wore away ; it had been one of 
 unusual severity. The snow was deep ; 
 and before the snow came, the cold days and 
 long nights had thickened the ice on lake and 
 pond. 
 
 The number of the latter lying round the 
 mountain was indeed a singular feature in the 
 landscape. Eight or nine could be counted from 
 the summit. All had been visited by Caleb and 
 Jim more than once, and each found to abound 
 in fish. 
 
 February, the last and shortest month of win- 
 ter, set in fierce and blustering. The snow, al- 
 ready four feet deep in the woods, still deepened, 
 and the winds, which had been prevalent and 
 sharp all winter, increased in fierceness, and all 
 the inmates of the lone cottage on the mountain- 
 side were glad to keep within doors. Not a 
 creature stirred abroad. Even the winter birds 
 67 
 
68 CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 
 
 that regularly flit from tree to tree, searching 
 for their daily food, kept within their places of 
 retreat the hollow trunks or thick boughs of 
 the trees. 
 
 The evening of the last day of the month, the 
 time when the grasp of winter at the throat of 
 prostrate Nature is usually wont to begin to 
 slacken, now, on the contrary, actually tightened, 
 and as the sun went down in darkness at the 
 west, the winds roared and howled with increased 
 energy. 
 
 " The mountain thunders and its sturdy sons 
 Stoop to the bottom of the rocks they shade." 
 
 Huge logs were piled high in the yawning, cav- 
 ernous fireplace, which sputtered and crackled 
 as the flames mounted up almost to the chimney 
 top, and sent out sparks that, caught by the 
 winds, went rushing, like will-o'-the-wisps, into 
 the adjoining forest. Within the cottage, the 
 brightness almost of the sunlight and warmth 
 of summer prevailed. 
 
 Than and Jim had been busy a part of the 
 evening preparing " spiles " in readiness for sugar- 
 making when warm weather should arrive, and 
 Caleb was putting a few finishing touches upon 
 
CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 69 
 
 a handsled he had been making for coasting 
 when the thaws in daytime, and frosts at night, 
 should bridge the deep snow with a "crust," and 
 many a fine ride he anticipated for himself and 
 Winnie, for whose interest and amusement he 
 was always planning. 
 
 Debby was busy with her knitting, but was just 
 preparing to lay it by, for the usual bedtime to 
 all the household had arrived, and Winnie, who 
 had for the hundredth time read the book of Es- 
 ther, had just closed the well-worn, sacred volume, 
 when a noise was heard that startled them all, 
 causing a profound silence as they listened with 
 bated breath and anxious looks. It sounded as 
 if some one was at the door seeking entrance. 
 In a moment it was repeated more distinctly 
 than before. 
 
 "What 'pon airth?" ejaculated Than, scarcely 
 above a whisper, unable to finish the sentence 
 from surprise and alarm. 
 
 "Somebody's there," whispered his wife. 
 
 "It can't be any human critter," said Than, 
 whose evident alarm was certainly excusable. 
 
 The sound was repeated, and the door itself 
 this time responded to the energy of the assault. 
 
/O CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 
 
 "Whose there?" demanded Than, in a loud, 
 husky voice. 
 
 There was a muffled, inarticulate response as 
 the assault was repeated. 
 
 "It sartin is some man/' whispered Debby, 
 pale with affright as the thought of Dugan came 
 into her mind. 
 
 Winnie had caught hold of her mother, and 
 Caleb and Jim stood one on each side of Than. 
 After a moment of hesitation, he said, 
 
 "The door must be opened, for whoever 'tis 
 will die if I don't." 
 
 As the door swung outward, and the fierce 
 wind had piled the snow around it, it was with 
 some difficulty that it could be set ajar even, 
 when an object that might well alarm the stout- 
 est heart under the circumstances, was revealed 
 by the bright glow of the logs in the fireplace. 
 
 Though covered with furs, it was not a wild 
 beast, for it had snowshoes upon its feet. With 
 much effort the object came in, but instantly fell 
 to the floor. For a moment every one was dumb 
 with terror. Debby was the first to say, 
 
 "It's some poor critter, and we must du some- 
 thin' or he'll die." 
 
CLOSING WINTER DAYS. /I 
 
 Summoning courage, they removed the fur 
 skins that enveloped the head, and, to their ter- 
 ror, saw before them the gaunt, hunger-pinched 
 features of an Indian. 
 
 Debby and Winnie drew back, the former 
 pale with affright, but after a moment, said, - 
 
 "He can't 'a' come tu hurt us." 
 
 "No; that's sartin," replied Than ; "he's 'bout 
 starved tu death, by 's looks. What shall we du ? " 
 
 "You loosen the things 'bout him there, he 
 stirs ! and I'll give him some warm drink tu 
 bring him tu." 
 
 The teakettle was bubbling and singing on the 
 crane in the corner of the fireplace for the 
 little cabin was not without its comforts, thanks 
 to the liberal friends of the inmates "below." 
 Than removed the fur-skin wraps that were 
 about the emaciated form, and Debby soon had 
 a cup of warm drink which her husband held to 
 the lips of the Indian as he raised his head with 
 one hand. The cup was drained with some dif- 
 ficulty, but with evident relish and good effect. 
 The snowshoes were removed from his feet, 
 which were then wrapped in one of the fur skins 
 that had been warmed before the fire. 
 
72 CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 
 
 While this was being done, Debby prepared 
 some light food, which the poor famished creat- 
 ure eagerly devoured. 
 
 " Folks say 't won't du tu give starved people 
 tu much at once," she said in a whisper to Than, 
 observing the eager, longing look of the savage. 
 
 In a short time, however, more was given him, 
 and he seemed in a measure satisfied. Then, 
 crawling to the side of the fire, and adjusting his 
 fur wraps for a kind of bed, the poor creature 
 was soon in a deep, quiet sleep. 
 
 Being now long past the usual bedtime for the 
 inmates, it was with some anxiety that Debby 
 asked : 
 
 " What shall we du ? Du ye 'spose it '11 be 
 safe to sleep here, with him in the room ? " 
 
 " Oh ! the poor critter can't hurt nobody, and 
 ye know they say an Injun never hurts them 
 that befriends 'um." 
 
 " I guess there hain't no danger," said Debby, 
 cheerfully ; and all prepared to retire. 
 
 The rooms overhead were not reached by 
 winding stairs, or stairs at all, but each apart- 
 ment had a short ladder, as the room on the 
 ground floor was low, which, when not in use, 
 
CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 73 
 
 was hung up below the timbers that sustained 
 the attic floor, and a " trap-door" was opened 
 as one wished to go up or come down. In a 
 short time quiet and slumber pervaded the cabin, 
 where terror and dismay had for a time held 
 possession. 
 
 For many days and nights the Indian hugged 
 the corner by the fire, not a word having been 
 heard from his lips. If he left it, it was to re- 
 turn almost immediately. At first he was so weak 
 he could with difficulty walk, but his strength 
 returned rapidly with the generous supply of 
 food which was set before him. He had all the 
 characteristic traits and features of his race, with 
 the exception of his height, which was rather be- 
 low the medium of his people. He had evidently 
 seen of years at least half a century, and possibly 
 many more, though his hair was still black. 
 There were deep lines on his face, and across his 
 forehead, which was more ample than is seen in 
 the face of the average Indian. 
 
 It did seem for a time after the advent of 
 spring, nominally, that winter was determined to 
 usurp the entire year ; for though the sun mount- 
 ed higher and higher in the heavens, its beams 
 
74 CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 
 
 seemed to wage a losing warfare with the fierce 
 forces of winter. 
 
 The Indian was hardly a desirable inmate, but 
 he could not be turned out of the cabin in such 
 weather, so he stayed on. A chair was offered 
 him, but he preferred to sit upon the floor, using 
 the furs with which he was enveloped, for a 
 seat, or cushion, by day, and as a bed by night. 
 He appeared to understand the sanitary laws to 
 some extent, for, after the first week, almost 
 daily, he took his couch to the door, and, shaking 
 the skins, thus gave them an airing. 
 
 At the beginning of the third week after his 
 coming, in the morning, after he had eaten what 
 had been set before him, to break his fast, he 
 said, as he still sat in his accustomed corner, 
 "White brother very good to Catamount." 
 
 " Is Catamount your name ? " asked Than. 
 
 "What white man call 'um." 
 
 " Do you live any where 'bout here ? " con* 
 tinued Than. 
 
 " In his lodge by the Winnipesockee." 
 
 " Any more of your folks there ? " 
 
 The Indian shook his head. 
 
 For a moment he was silent, then added : 
 
CLOSING WINTER DAYS. 75 
 
 " Catamount the last of his race. Once, his 
 his people, the Penacooks, a great nation, and 
 the friends of the white man. But the face of 
 the Great Spirit was turned away from the red 
 man, and he love the white man more. Ingun 
 poor, white man rich. Ingun know nothing, 
 white man wise knows everything. He want 
 much land Ingun in the way. He go off, but 
 Catamount love the home of his fathers, and 
 stay. He have nothing in his lodge. Winter 
 long; he come to his white brother. He give 
 him much good. He die, but white brother 
 make him live. Catamount love his white 
 brother." 
 
 This was spoken slowly, and after long pauses. 
 When he had finished, Than said : " Ye're wel- 
 come to stay here ; we've 'nuff. Warm weather 
 '11 come byme-by." 
 
 " Then Catamount go away," said he. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 
 
 NOT long after this, warm weather did come 
 suddenly, and the south wind blew upon 
 the deep snow and it melted away rapidly. The 
 streams broke from their icy fetters, and went 
 laughing and leaping down the hillside and 
 through the plain, "to join the brimming river." 
 
 Than and Jim tapped the sugar maples and 
 collected the sap and reduced it to sugar. 
 
 Caleb was much interested in the work, and, 
 though cautioned by his anxious mother, went 
 beyond his strength, and, taking a severe cold, 
 was soon in a burning fever, and shortly after be- 
 came delirious. 
 
 Both Than and his wife were greatly alarmed. 
 They had very little medicine, or herbs, in the 
 house ; such as they had they gave to the sick 
 boy, but with little or no effect. 
 
 At the coming on of the warm weather Cata- 
 mount had gone away, but not being able fully to 
 76 
 
THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 77 
 
 supply his own wants, he soon came back. Caleb 
 had then been sick three days, and had grown 
 continually worse, till it seemed to the anxious 
 watchers that there was little hope of his recov- 
 ery. 
 
 It was at night when Catamount returned to 
 the cabin. He looked at the suffering boy, and 
 manifested great anxiety as to his condition. 
 Seeing an earthen pan or bowl, he snatched it 
 up quickly, and hurried from the cabin. 
 
 He was gone some little time, and iipon his 
 return it was evident that he had been to a place 
 quite distant. The bowl was filled with water, 
 and what appeared to be twigs of trees, plants, 
 bark and roots. 
 
 Drawing coals from the fire he set the bowl 
 upon them, and, as soon as the chill was taken 
 off, providing himself with a smaller vessel taken 
 from the " dressers," he poured a part of the 
 water in the bowl on the coals into it, then re- 
 turned it to the fire. 
 
 Going to the sick boy, who was tossing and 
 moaning and muttering broken, incoherent sen- 
 tences in his delirium, he began bathing him at 
 his head with the palm of his hand, moistened 
 
. 
 
 78 THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 
 
 with the liquid he had poured out, and so con- 
 tinued until he had bathed him to the very ends 
 of his toes and fingers. 
 
 Before he had finished, the patient began to 
 show signs of improvement. During this treat- 
 ment the Indian kept watch of the bowl ; before 
 the contents came to a boil he removed it from 
 the fire, and when he had finished the bathing, 
 and the decoction was sufficiently cool, he caused 
 the patient to drink it entire. 
 
 This was accomplished with some difficulty, 
 however, and when he had finished, he took his 
 old place in the corner by the fire. Than and 
 Debby had been silent observers. Neither of 
 them had scarcely slept for two or three nights, 
 so distressed were they for their sick boy. 
 Shortly after Catamount had retired to his cor- 
 ner, and had evidently fallen asleep, they ap- 
 proached the bed on which Caleb lay, and found 
 him in a profuse perspiration, and sleeping as 
 softly and quietly as an infant. 
 
 The mother then lay down beside him, and 
 was soon asleep. Thanthought to remain awake 
 a while to watch the condition of the sleeping 
 boy, but he too was soon lost in slumber, and 
 
THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 79 
 
 neither of them awoke till it was broad day- 
 light. Caleb was still sleeping. The bed where 
 he lay was drenched as with a quantity of water, 
 but the moisture had passed off, leaving him in 
 a perfectly natural condition. 
 
 On looking round they found that Catamount 
 was gone and the dish in which the draught had 
 been brewed was also missing. Before long the 
 Indian returned with the bowl filled with water. 
 He looked on Caleb, and seeing that he still slept, 
 sat the vessel on the dresser, and seated him- 
 self by the side of the bed. 
 
 In a few moments the boy awoke, and would 
 have made an effort to arise, had not the In- 
 dian gently put him back. Then taking the 
 bowl, which held fully a quart, he gathered the 
 clothes around Caleb, and raising him up, held 
 it to his lips till he had swallowed all of its 
 contents. He then laid him back in the same 
 place from which he had lifted him, and, adding 
 other clothing, to counteract the chill of the 
 water he had drank, insisted upon his remaining 
 in this position until the bed whereon he lay, and 
 all the clothing, had dried. 
 
 At noon when the dinner was preparing Caleb 
 
8O THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 
 
 was hungry and asked to get up. Catamount 
 finding everything about him was perfectly dry, 
 simply said, " Pale boy well ; may eat." 
 
 While in bed Caleb seemed unaware that any- 
 thing was the matter with him, but on getting 
 up he found himself so weak he could with diffi- 
 culty stand. Great was the joy of the household 
 at his recovery. Winnie threw her arms around 
 him, hugged and kissed him, and Jim, though 
 less demonstrative, stood and looked at him, 
 while his face glowed with real happiness. At 
 last he said, 
 
 "We've got lots of sugar, Caleb!" 
 
 "Oh! do give me some," said Caleb; "won't 
 ye, Jim?" 
 
 The request was quickly obeyed, and a large 
 bowlful brought, but a small quantity satisfied 
 him, and his mother had the prudence to see 
 that he did not eat hearty food but sparingly at 
 dinner. But in a few days all trace of the fever 
 had disappeared, and the lad, as his mother said, 
 seemed better than ever. 
 
 From that time the Indian was regarded as a 
 real benefactor in the household. An intimacy 
 sprang up between him and Caleb ; he seemed 
 
THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 8 1 
 
 pleased to have the Pale Boy abroad with him. 
 They hunted and fished together, and the cabin 
 table was often furnished with the choicest of 
 game and fish. 
 
 The method of passing the Sunday at the 
 cabin was usually on this wise: when the break- 
 fast was over, and the few chores done, the fam- 
 ily sat by, while Winnie read from the Bible for 
 an hour or more. Her voice was low and sweet 
 as a wild bird's, and she read "with the spirit 
 and the understanding also," such parts as were 
 familiar to her. 
 
 At no time did the unvarying stoicism of Cat- 
 amount for a moment forsake him, save when 
 Winnie was reading from the Bible. This seemed 
 to involve a mystery too great for his habitual in- 
 difference. His dark keen eyes would wander 
 from her face to the book, and from the book to 
 her face. Occasionally a sentence would become 
 clearly intelligible to him, and he would seem to 
 muse long upon it. 
 
 There is no better proof that our native In- 
 dian tribes were susceptible of the poetic senti- 
 ment, than is shown from the names they gave 
 to natural objects : Winnipesockee, the smile of 
 
82 THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 
 
 the Great Spirit ; Minnehaha, Laughing Waters ; 
 Mississippi, Father of Waters ; from the names 
 of those, the meanings of which are not so gen- 
 erally known as Memphremagog, Androscoggin, 
 Ammonusuck, Massachusetts, and hosts of 
 others, nearly all having, in some measure, or- 
 iginally doubtless a poetic significance. This 
 same trait manifested itself in Catamount in the 
 name he gave to Winnie, which was Forest 
 Flower. No doubt there was that in her sweet, 
 winning, graceful ways which reminded him of 
 some of the beautiful flowers that spring so 
 abundantly in the forests at this season of the 
 year. The Indian interpretation would doubt- 
 less be pleasing if we could know it. 
 
 As the spring advanced and the weather grew 
 warm he returned to his lodge by the Winnipe- 
 sockee, but he was not long at a time a stranger 
 at the cabin, and not unfrequently at the return 
 of the Bible-reading hour, the shadow of Cata- 
 mount would darken the door as he entered with 
 noiseless step, and took his seat in his accus- 
 tomed corner to listen to the voice of Winifred 
 as she read from the words of the Great Spirit. 
 
 There were two places, at no great distance 
 
THE INDIAN CATAMOUNT. 83 
 
 from the cabin, that possessed great attraction 
 for Winnie. One was about thirty or forty rods 
 above the cabin, on a spur of the mountain which 
 jutted out, commanding a beautiful view ; the 
 almost unbroken forests, the winding Suncook 
 and the distant mountains. The other was 
 about the same distance below the cabin, by the 
 side of the brook, where the water comes rushing 
 over the descent and leaps from a shelving 
 ledge down two or three feet, into a pebbly 
 basin at the roots of overshadowing trees. This 
 was a retreat worthy of nymphs or naiads. A 
 little distance from the brook, but within the 
 sound of the little waterfall, was a green grassy 
 spot where at early morning the sunlight came 
 in, dispelling the dampness, and encouraging the 
 grass to grow thick and beautiful, while all 
 around was more shady and damp ; and there the 
 trailing arbutus and numerous other wild flowers 
 gave out the incense of their fragrance. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 ONE Sunday evening a little before sunset, 
 toward the latter part of May, Winnie 
 left the cabin and climbed to her seat on the jut- 
 ting ledge, over which a leaning birch cast a par- 
 tial canopy of leaves. She sat and watched the 
 sun as it sank behind the gorgeous clouds that 
 curtained the west, her pure, sweet soul throb- 
 bing with inexpressible admiration at the beauty 
 of the scene before her. Even after the sun 
 had set, and the twilight had begun to steal over 
 the landscape, she sat musing, and in a low, soft 
 voice, scarcely audible, sang, without rhyme or 
 measure : 
 
 How beautiful, how beautiful 
 
 Is all this great world. 
 Thy hand, O Lord, has made it all, 
 
 And all the stars on high. 
 
 How beautiful, how beautiful 
 
 Are the clouds in the sky, 
 The resting places of the angels 
 
 As they come down from on high. 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 8$ 
 
 How beautiful, how beautiful 
 
 The mountains far away 
 As they prop the bending sky 
 
 Upon their sunny peaks. 
 
 A slight sound caused her to turn her head, 
 when she was surprised to see Catamount who 
 had not been at the cabin for a week or two, 
 standing near. 
 
 " Does Forest Flower see the Great Spirit as 
 she talks with Him ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes ; all we see is the face of the Great 
 
 
 
 Spirit. He lives in it all," replied Winnie. 
 
 " He talks with Forest Flower and shows her 
 his face. Ingun no see Him, nor hear Him. In- 
 gun old, and deaf, and blind. Catamount bring a 
 gift to Forest Flower, made by the hands of 
 Huron maiden." 
 
 As he said this he laid in her lap a pair of 
 moccasons of the softest deerskin, exquisitely 
 made and decorated with dyed porcupine quills, 
 after which he departed as suddenly and as 
 silently as he had come. 
 
 Catamount was not the only stranger who dur- 
 ing that summer found his way to Than's cabin, 
 secret and secluded as he supposed it to be. 
 
86 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 It was early in July, and toward the close of a 
 warm, pleasant day. Than and Debby sat in the 
 doorway of the cabin. The work was done, 
 and the supper had just been eaten. Jim, 
 Caleb and Winnie were seated on the grass a lit- 
 tle distance from the door, the two latter watch- 
 ing Jim as he was fashioning a figure-four trap 
 to catch a troublesome woodchuck that com- 
 mitted havoc among the growing beans, when 
 all were startled to hear Winnie exclaim in a 
 suppressed voice, 
 
 " Who's that ? " at the same time pointing to 
 the edge of the woods on the side of the moun- 
 tain. 
 
 " He's comin' here, whoever 'tis," said Than. 
 
 " He's got a pack on's back. I s'h'd think 
 'twas a scarce place for ped'lin," remarked Jim. 
 
 All watched the stranger approach in speech- 
 less surprise. 
 
 " You cannot be any more surprised to see a 
 stranger here, than I am to find a human dwell- 
 ing," said the stranger. 
 
 " Wai, we don't have many comin' this way," 
 Than replied. 
 
 " I will tell you who I am, so you need not 
 
SCHOOLMASTER ORDIORNE AT HOME. 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 8/ 
 
 take me for a strolling vagabond. My name is 
 Isaac Ordiorne, schoolmaster of Boston on Mas- 
 sachusetts Bay." 
 
 " Ye've come a long piece tu get here, then," 
 said Than. 
 
 " Yes. I'm engaged now in the cause of Sci- 
 ence, as a disciple of the great Linnaeus who 
 wishes a specimen of every flower and plant on 
 the earth." 
 
 " He must be a strange, queer sort of a man," 
 Than answered. " Wall," he continued, " if 
 you'll put up with our cabin, walk in and stop 
 to-night, and Debby, my wife, '11 get ye some 
 supper. We has plenty tu eat up here." 
 
 " I am heartily thankful," said the schoolmas- 
 ter, as he entered the cabin and took off what 
 Jim called a pack, and set it in one corner of the 
 room. 
 
 The schoolmaster was a small-sized man, gen- 
 tle and polite in manners, with a mild, pleasant 
 countenance, and a soft, quiet tone of voice, 
 all of which at once disarmed the family of any 
 apprehension that might have arisen had his ap- 
 pearance been otherwise. 
 
 Debby was quite awestruck at having so im- 
 
88 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 portant a character for a guest, for, at that day, 
 the schoolmaster was second only to the parson 
 in point of dignity and consequence in public 
 estimation. Still she was able to do her best, 
 and soon set before him a very tempting supper, 
 to which she had the gratification to see he did 
 ample justice. 
 
 For his accommodation for the night Winnie 
 gave up her room in the attic and slept on a bed 
 prepared in the room below. It was Saturday 
 evening when the schoolmaster came, and at 
 breakfast he asked the privilege of spending 
 "the Lord's day," as he expressed it, at the 
 cabin, which was most willingly granted. 
 
 Winnie was so accustomed to her Bible read- 
 ing on Sunday morning, that as soon as all were 
 prepared she took up, as usual, the pleasant duty 
 without thought of change at the presence of 
 the schoolmaster. Of late the poetry of the 
 Psalms had begun to interest her, and as she 
 had the Sunday previous read as far as the 
 eighteenth, she began there now. 
 
 Had she taken thought of herself, she might 
 have been curious to know whether the school- 
 master was interested in what she was reading, 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 89 
 
 or the manner in which she read it. Had she 
 looked at him she would have found him any 
 thing but a disinterested listener. Not only 
 did his ear catch eagerly every word, but his 
 large expressive eyes were fastened upon the 
 reader like one charmed. 
 
 It was a bright, beautiful morning, and as 
 Winnie read, a shadow fell athwart the cabin 
 door, and, with noiseless tread, Catamount en- 
 tered and took his accustomed place in the cor- 
 ner by the fireplace. 
 
 At sight of him the countenance of the 
 schoolmaster suddenly changed, manifesting a 
 feeling of alarm, but when he saw a look of 
 welcome on the faces of the family, and espe- 
 cially on the sweet face of the reader, his alarm 
 subsided as suddenly as it had been aroused. 
 And when he saw the interest with which the 
 savage listened to the voice of the reader, he 
 seemed greatly puzzled. 
 
 The reading ended, the schoolmaster sat in 
 silence for some minutes, then asked, 
 
 " Who taught you to read, dear child ? " 
 
 Winnie was abashed and confused, but finally 
 answered " Ma'am." 
 
9O ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 " I teached her the letters, then she went to 
 school down b'low a spell ; but she's teached her- 
 self more'n anybody," interposed Debby. 
 
 When Catamount had gone, the schoolmaster 
 asked with evident concern, if there were many 
 savages around there. 
 
 " No ; there hain't any/' replied Than. " Cata- 
 mount's all the one there is of his tribe, and he 
 lives miles from here nigh the Winnipesockee, 
 somewhere. Caleb's been to his wigwam, but 
 there hain't none of the rest on us." 
 
 " Caleb ? Is he that sickly pale lad ? " 
 
 " Yis ; but he's' nuff sight tougher ne'r you'd 
 think him." 
 
 "Why, I took him for an invalid whose life 
 was doubtful." 
 
 " He's allers been a pale, delicate boy," said 
 his mother. 
 
 " We come drefful nigh losin' him last spring, 
 and 'ft hadn't been for Catamount he couldn't 
 'a lived," added Than. 
 
 "Catamount ! is that the name of the savage?" 
 
 " Yis ; and there hain't much savage 'bout 
 him nuther," replied Than. 
 
 "So I judge from his manner; but we're ac- 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 9 1 
 
 customed to call all of his race savages when we 
 know that under the preaching and labors of the 
 great and good Eliot many of them embraced 
 Christianity. Is this Catamount one of the Pen- 
 acook tribe, do you know ? " 
 
 " Yis ; that's what he said the name of his 
 tribe was ; I never heerd on't afore/' 
 
 " They were a powerful tribe once, and dwelt 
 on the Merrimack, and planted the rich intervale 
 with their corn and beans. Their ancient ene- 
 mies were the Mohawks, a fierce and warlike 
 tribe in the centre of the province of New York. 
 The Penacooks were attacked by them, and 
 though they succeeded in beating them off, after 
 most of the braves had fallen on both sides, 
 the Penacooks never recovered from the blow, 
 nor did the Mohawks ever become as powerful 
 as they had been. Passaconaway was the chief 
 of the Penacooks when the English first came. 
 He became a convert under the preaching of 
 Eliot, and when he died he advised his people 
 to always be the friends of the English. They 
 remained so for many years, and King Philip, 
 with all his art, was unable to induce them to 
 join him and the rest of the New England tribes, 
 
92 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 in an effort to crush the English. But a fatality 
 seemed to doom all the tribes of New England, 
 and events over which human foresight could 
 have no control, finally provoked the Penacooks 
 to hostility, and they, too, have been driven from 
 their native seats and hunting grounds." 
 
 "It's tu bad, 'f they was all like Catamount," 
 said Than. 
 
 "It's the nature of the Indian to be blood- 
 thirsty and cruel when he thinks himself injured. 
 The Christian spirit is little cherished by most 
 of them/' 
 
 " Catamount would 'a' died if 'ta'd'nt 'a' been 
 for us. One of the coldest nights the last o' 
 Feb'ry, he came tu us eenamost starved tu 
 death." 
 
 "Then he repaid your generosity by saving 
 your boy ? " 
 
 "Yis," meekly replied Debby. "It was a 
 merciful Providence that sent him tu us." 
 
 "The merciful shall obtain mercy," said the 
 schoomaster, "and in blessing others we often 
 most bless ourselves." 
 
 Some years after, both the schoolmaster and 
 the occupants of the cabin, it may be, felt the 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 93 
 
 force of this remark more directly than when 
 spoken. 
 
 The next morning it was arranged that for a 
 time the schoolmaster was to have his head- 
 quarters at the cabin, while he searched out the 
 flora of the surrounding country, even to the 
 Winnipesockee. 
 
 The family regarded him as a being superior 
 to themselves, so wonderful his learning and 
 wisdom appeared to them. 
 
 To Winnie he proved a great blessing. His 
 interest in her was unbounded. He instructed 
 her in the science of botany, and thus opened to 
 her appreciative mind a new world of wonder, 
 and beauty, and interest. 
 
 Botany, on the Linnaean system, was compar- 
 atively a new science, and it had at once aroused 
 an intense interest in scientific minds the world 
 over. By this simple system of classification, it 
 became easy to reduce the entire flora of the 
 globe to the grasp and comprehension of an 
 ordinary student. This science found nowhere 
 a more devoted and enthusiastic disciple and 
 explorer than Schoolmaster Ordiorne. Alone, 
 with a supply of a few necessaries, as salt, and a 
 
94 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 few other things, and a light fowling piece to aid 
 in procuring game, he had plunged into the wil- 
 derness, not anticipating finding the dwelling of 
 man for weeks, when he came suddenly upon 
 Than's cabin. 
 
 One day while prosecuting his researches on 
 the head waters of the Suncook, he found him- 
 self face to face with Catamount. He was a 
 little startled at first and hardly knew how to ac- 
 cost the silent, stoical red man. Catamount was 
 the first to speak, however. 
 
 " Great Medicine Man very wise/' was his sal- 
 utation. 
 
 " The Great Father in Heaven gives all his 
 children the means of wisdom. The red man 
 has one kind, and the white man another." 
 
 Catamount remained silent some moments, 
 then said, 
 
 " Great Spirit love white man most/' 
 
 " God is no respecter of persons," replied the 
 schoolmaster ; but those words conveyed little 
 meaning to the mind of the Indian. 
 
 Just then a light step was heard approaching, 
 and presently the slight form and pale face of 
 Caleb appeared from the thicket. The unerring 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 95 
 
 arrow of Catamount had brought down a part- 
 ridge while on the wing, and he had brought it, 
 with the arrow still piercing the bird. 
 
 "There," said the schoolmaster, "that is the 
 wisdom of the red man. No white man could 
 have brought down that bird with an arrow." 
 
 " Ingun never make white man's gun," said 
 Catamount. 
 
 "True," said the schoolmaster, "the white 
 man's art is superior." 
 
 "Will Great Medicine Man come to Ingun's 
 lodge ? " said Catamount. But the schoolmaster 
 hesitated. 
 
 "Come," urged Caleb, "and ye'll see the 
 strangest place ye ever seen. We've got rab- 
 bits and fish there, and plenty for dinner." 
 
 The Great Medicine Man finally consented, 
 and Catamount led the way. 
 
 They followed up the head stream of the Sun- 
 cook where it issues from the most singular 
 gorge in the Gunstock range of mountains, the 
 most noted height which is to-day known as Mt. 
 Belknap ; here, shut in by precipitous mountain 
 walls on three sides, the two lateral ones ap- 
 proaching within a short distance of each other 
 
96 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 to the eastward, where is the gate or entrance. 
 Proceeding up a gentle ascent for a quarter of a 
 mile or so, the traveller comes to a comparatively 
 level open space covering several acres, which 
 appears entirely shut in by precipices that only 
 a bird can fly over or some nimble wild animal 
 could scale. 
 
 In the middle of this singular space, from be- 
 neath an immense rock, bubbles up, clear and 
 beautiful, the very head spring of the Suncook, 
 and, at a little distance, in the shadow of a clump 
 of firs, stood the wigwam of Catamount. The 
 location was admirably chosen for secrecy, safety 
 and protection from the fierce blasts of winter. 
 
 The schoolmaster was no stranger to forest 
 cooking. A fire was soon under way, and when 
 a bed of glowing hot coals had been produced, 
 the game and fish, previously prepared, were laid 
 upon it, and a dinner, by no means unpalatable, 
 was served. After dinner, as the schoolmaster 
 was anxious to gain a view of the Winnipesockee 
 Lake, Catamount led the way toward one side of 
 the precipitous enclosure which, to all appearance, 
 was a bare perpendicular wall of solid rock with 
 beetling cliffs above, from which, loosened by the 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. Q/ 
 
 frosts and rains, huge masses of rocks had, in 
 times past, fallen. When near the wall, the In- 
 dian turned, keeping along in an open space by 
 it, to where it formed an angle with the side to 
 the west, and here were found steps formed by 
 nature ; not very regular, or easy of ascent, but 
 still affording the means, without great effort, 
 of ascent to the summit. 
 
 From there to the top of Mt. Belknap the 
 way is comparatively easy. There the view 
 presented was sufficient to draw from the 
 schoolmaster an exclamation of surprise and 
 admiration. 
 
 " Oh ! what beauty, what mystery, what won- 
 der," said he, running his eye over the island- 
 dotted lake, the sky-piercing peaks of the White 
 Mountains beyond, and the wide and varied pros- 
 pect on every side. 
 
 It is indeed a wonderful sight to stand on 
 that lofty summit and look northward where 
 nothing seems visible but mountain peaks in the 
 most promiscuous confusion. It is as though 
 the materials of which they are composed were 
 liquid like the sea, and when thrown into the 
 wildest and most fearful commotion, had been 
 
98 ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 
 
 instantly congealed into flint and granite, never 
 more to subside. 
 
 The Winnipesockee laves the very base of Mt. 
 Belknap, and many of its fairy isles seem to be 
 almost within a pebble's throw of the beholder. 
 Red Mountain, and the Sandwich, and Wolfe- 
 borough mountains crowd around the wonderful 
 lake as if to watch over and protect it. One 
 flinty spire, the grand Chocorua, rises in solitary 
 grandeur, as seen from Belknap, on the outer 
 verge of the huddled family of mountain peaks. 
 
 The schoolmaster stood and gazed long upon 
 the scene before him, unmindful of the long 
 distance that stretched between him and the 
 cabin, until reminded by Caleb, who offered to 
 be his guide by the shortest trail home. They 
 left Catamount on the summit, and as they 
 passed through the gate of the gorge, and turned 
 to look backward, they saw him still standing 
 as they had left him. 
 
 With untiring interest and assiduity the 
 schoolmaster roamed and searched through the 
 wilderness around the Winnipesockee, usually 
 returning at night to the cabin, but occasionally 
 remaining away for two or three days. 
 
ANOTHER STRANGER AT THE CABIN. 99 
 
 His interest was not confined altogether to 
 plants ; birds, insects, and other objects of ani- 
 mated nature shared his attention and study. In 
 these he also interested Winnie, who had always 
 manifested a love for the birds, but was inclined 
 to shun as offensive, beetles, bugs, spiders and 
 insects as devoid of interest, if not dangerous. 
 But he soon showed to her that nothing that 
 is the handiwork of the Creator, is lacking in 
 interest, but, on the contrary, is a means of im- 
 provement, when rightly examined and studied. 
 
 The revelations disclosed by the use of a com- 
 mon magnifying-glass, such as the schoolmaster 
 had always ready at hand, were marvellous to 
 her. Nor were the instructions of the school- 
 master confined to the natural sciences. He 
 taught her the proper use of language, and gave 
 her lessons in grammar, geography and writing. 
 With this help, she made great advancement, and 
 when, at the approach of autumn, he left the 
 cabin, he pronounced her proficient in all. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE AFFAIRS OF THE PROVINCE. 
 
 IT will become necessary soon to leave the 
 thread of our story for a short time, to 
 refer to the public affairs of the province of 
 New Hampshire, in order to explain some mat- 
 ters with which the principal characters of our 
 story, humble though they may be, are connect- 
 ed, and we may as well do so now as at any time 
 later. 
 
 Gov.. Wentworth was a progressive, public- 
 spirited man, in everything except his attachment 
 to royalty, which finally wrought his disgrace 
 and ruin in the eyes of his countrymen. But 
 that was years later, and has no connection with 
 our narrative. 
 
 When he came to the Gubernatorial Chair, 
 which was quite a surprise to him, he was a 
 young gentleman of superior ability, fine per- 
 sonal appearance and pleasing address, and suc- 
 ceeded a gouty, fussy and pretentious old uncle 
 
 100 
 
THE AFFAIRS OF THE : PROVINCE, !&( 
 
 who had outlived his usefulness. He had been 
 a man of ability, and had done many things pleas- 
 ing to royalty in his earlier years, which explains 
 why he was so long continued in office. 
 
 The young Governor found that some things 
 needed reforming. That some families had been 
 long honored with public favors to the exclusion 
 of others more worthy. With great firmness, 
 and yet with discretion and judgment, he quietly 
 reformed abuses so far as lay in his power. 
 And where the action of the Legislature was 
 needed, he but suggested and recommended 
 what seemed judicious changes. 
 
 Some things that were well enough in the 
 early days of the province, were outgrown and 
 needed remodeling. The Judiciary was one of 
 these. 
 
 Any change in the system had to be brought 
 about by the legislative authority, but, when that 
 was done, those that were to fill the new offices 
 were to be appointed by the Governor. He was 
 aware that many of the justices under the old 
 system had shown themselves men of judicial 
 capacity, and for this, and their experience, these 
 were re-appointed, while others less worthy were 
 
IQs THZ AFFAIRS OF THE PROVINCE. 
 
 left off. One of these, by the name of Livius, to 
 repay the Governor for his action, went to Eng- 
 land and presented a petition to the king, for the 
 removal of Gov. Wentworth from office, filing, 
 with his petition, a long list of charges against 
 him ; the most of them being for partiality and 
 unjust discrimination in the management of af- 
 fairs in the province. 
 
 No man does everything just right, and Gov. 
 Wentworth may not have been an exception to 
 the rule. There were, doubtless, some few in- 
 stances in which he may have been amenable 
 to the modern charge of nepotism, and special 
 regard to family interests. However that may 
 be, his adversary had the skill and adroitness to 
 give the Governor much uneasiness, to say the 
 least, and at the prior examination of the case 
 before the Lords of Trade and Navigation, suc- 
 ceeded in getting a report adverse to him. It 
 was then taken before the King in council, but 
 a hearing upon it was delayed for other and 
 more pressing business, for a time, to the great 
 annoyance of the Governor and his friends. 
 
 When the case was heard upon its merits, 
 the Governor was fully exculpated from every 
 
THE AFFAIRS OF THE PROVINCE. IO3 
 
 charge, and even complimented for the effi- 
 ciency and loyalty of his administration. 
 
 Great was the rejoicing throughout the prov- 
 ince at the result of the investigation, and when 
 the Legislature met at Portsmouth, they at once 
 sent a congratulatory message to the Governor, 
 on the just and happy issue of the charges 
 against him. 
 
 Immediately after, the town of Portsmouth 
 made a great reception for the Governor, and 
 gave a ball at which all the notable people of the 
 province were present. 
 
 The Governor then invited the members of 
 both branches of the Legislature, and many of 
 the leading men of the province, to visit him at 
 his noble estate in Wolfeborough, on the Winni- 
 pesockee, the following summer. 
 
 By this time Portsmouth had become an im- 
 portant commercial town, and was well known in 
 mercantile circles in all the countries of Europe, 
 on account of its extensive trade in lumber and 
 ship timber. 
 
 This notoriety, as was natural, brought together 
 all classes of people. Many trades and manufac- 
 tures were represented, notwithstanding the re- 
 
IO4 THE AFFAIRS OF THE PROVINCE. 
 
 pressive policy adopted by the mother country, 
 for the purpose of favoring the trades and man- 
 ufactures of England. 
 
 One of the great crimes of that period was 
 highway robbery. 
 
 Possibly men carried more money on their 
 persons at that day of few, if any banks in 
 which to deposit it, and every man of known 
 wealth was a temptation to the desperate char- 
 acters of that time, and highway robbery, though 
 made a crime punishable with death, was no 
 very uncommon thing around all large towns 
 where men of wealth resided, and Portsmouth 
 was one of these. 
 
 Here, too, were perpetrated some of the bold- 
 est and most successful robberies known in the 
 calendar of crime. Men were met, and com- 
 pelled to save their lives by giving up their 
 purses and gold watches almost at their own 
 doors, and the culprit would calmly walk off 
 with his booty, and, by some mysterious means, 
 disappear and escape the hue and cry that would 
 be immediately raised for his apprehension. 
 
 Many were the suspicions that Humphrey 
 Dugan had a hand in the mischief. The system 
 
THE AFFAIRS OF THE PROVINCE. 10$ 
 
 of professional detectives had not then been de- 
 veloped. Whoever the villain was, or whether 
 there were more than one, or whether Dugan 
 had any connection with it, could not, for a long 
 time, be ascertained. 
 
 About this time a young man, between twenty- 
 five and thirty years of age, by the name of Harry 
 Deerfoot, of intelligence and pleasing address and 
 who was engaged in some of the trades in Ports- 
 mouth, seemed to have heard something con- 
 cerning the somewhat mysterious disappearance 
 of Mr. Longridge, and made many inquiries as to 
 the particulars of his death and the amount of 
 property left by him. Finally, some one told 
 him that Dugan, who had come into possession 
 of Mr. Longridge's property, could tell him more 
 about it than anybody else, but, for a time, he 
 seemed disinclined to make his acquaintance, 
 and no more was thought of the matter. 
 
 Young Deerfoot appeared to be an active, en- 
 terprising young man, with business occasion- 
 ally in Boston, and other parts of the country, 
 where he was often met by people who knew 
 him. Being of agreeable address and of a social 
 turn, he easily made friends and acquaintances 
 
IO6 THE AFFAIRS OF THE PROVINCE. 
 
 with all with whom he came in contact. Even 
 with countrymen and farmers, and with their 
 families, he could make himself interesting and 
 companionable. 
 
 Had newspaper correspondents been in vogue 
 at that time, Harry Deerfoot would have made 
 a successful one. For he seemed peculiarly 
 adapted to it, according to the account given of 
 him in the chronicles of his day. He had the 
 faculty of knowing everybody, and, apparently, 
 the personal history of everybody he met. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN THE CABIN. 
 
 TO go back now, to the family in the lone 
 cottage by the mountain side. We have 
 allowed several years to pass, and upon our re- 
 turn we find that great changes have taken place ; 
 not only around the cabin, but within. Instead 
 of a narrow opening in the forest, there are 
 broad fields and enclosures, cattle, sheep, and 
 the usual surroundings of a farmhouse. 
 
 Jim has become the stout, able-bodied farm- 
 hand ; but Caleb is still a slight, spare young 
 man, little capable of manual labor, but an adept 
 in all that pertains to forest life ; as tireless as 
 an antelope, and as keen-eyed and true of aim as 
 Catamount himself, who never throws away a 
 shot, or loses an arrow. Caleb leaves the use 
 of the bow to the Indian in their hunts. The 
 flint-lock that his father brought with him into 
 the forest was somewhat clumsy and heavy, as 
 107 
 
IO8 IN THE CABIN. 
 
 were all the guns of that day, but it was sure of 
 fire, and true to the aim. 
 
 Time had wrought no greater change upon 
 any of the dwellers in the cabin than upon Win- 
 nie. As a bud of promise in girlhood, she was 
 beautiful, but the opening flower of maidenhood 
 was a realization of more than the promise. In 
 stature she was of medium height, but grace and 
 beauty combined alike, in form and feature. 
 
 For three successive summers, the school- 
 master had spent a portion of his time at the 
 cabin. His interest in Winnie knew no bounds, 
 and his efforts for her instruction and improve- 
 ment in every accomplishment known to him- 
 self, were unceasing. Nor was his intimacy in 
 the family without its softening and elevating 
 effect upon the entire household. 
 
 Than and Debby were among the happiest 
 of mortals. One sorrow, that of the death of 
 Uncle Zeeb, had visited them. It may be said 
 that he died of a broken heart ; for the loss of 
 his darling Lute, who had been, while she was 
 with him, the comfort and the sunshine of his 
 life. The love of a father for a loving daughter, 
 no one else can appreciate. 
 
IN THE CABIN. ICXJ 
 
 Uncle Zeeb often said that if he could only 
 know that Lute was at rest, he should die happy ; 
 but in his uncertainty of her fate, imagination 
 would be busy with images of horror, degreda- 
 tion and wretchedness worse than death, and in 
 this condition he died, with expressions of sor- 
 row for his lost darling upon his lips. 
 
 Humphrey Dugan meanwhile seemed to enjoy 
 worldly prosperity. Knowing that he lived in 
 the midst of a public who looked upon him 
 with contempt, he steeled himself against it, and 
 maintained a bold independence, his companions 
 being those who were dependent upon him, and 
 an occasional visitor now and then, unknown to 
 the townspeople. 
 
 To this, however, there was one exception. 
 Harry Deerfoot disregarded public opinion, and 
 treated Dugan with an open, generous frankness, 
 that was not without its effect upon one so 
 shunned, and often treated with open scorn and 
 contempt. He invited the young man to his 
 house, offered him every hospitality, and thus 
 met with an agreeable comrade. 
 
 It was a relief to Dugan to find some one with 
 whom he could hold companionship, and although 
 
HO IN THE CABIN. 
 
 his guest was several years his junior, he treated 
 him as an equal, and confided to him many of 
 the events of his past life ; among others his en- 
 counter with Than at Piscassick, and the efforts 
 he had made to search out his whereabouts, all 
 of which had thus far proved unsuccessful. 
 
 The curiosity of young Deerfoot was excited 
 by Dugan' s story. He at once began making 
 inquiries about Clifford. Dugan had told him 
 all he knew about him : that the report was, that 
 he had been brought to Portsmouth first from 
 some place on the Jersey coast, a miserable beg- 
 gar ; that the meddlesome Gov. Wentworth, and 
 others like him, had taken pity on him, and got 
 him off to some place as yet out of his reach. 
 
 Dugan was getting on in years. He had ar- 
 rived at that period when men are apt to be gar- 
 rulous, especially with those younger than them- 
 selves, and the caution, taciturnity and prudence 
 of his earlier years were, in a measure, laid aside. 
 
 But, to return to the mountain cabin, from 
 which we have wandered in our reflections on 
 the death of Uncle Zeeb. 
 
 More needs to be said in relation to the attach- 
 ment of Catamount for the entire family. The 
 
IN THE CABIN. Ill 
 
 good fellowship that existed between him and 
 Caleb we have already spoken of, as well as the 
 affection he manifested for the boy, whom he 
 called by a name which, in the Indian tongue, 
 meant sprite or ghost, because of his pale face, 
 and his slight, agile frame. 
 
 They were not always together, however, nor 
 was Caleb constantly abroad in the forest. 
 Sometimes days would pass, especially in mid- 
 summer, without a call from Catamount. 
 
 They had a signal, which could be heard at a 
 great distance. It was a hoot like the owl ; but 
 Caleb could detect Catamount's call even though 
 a dozen owls were hoot-tooting at the same mo- 
 ment. By the signal he would know if he was 
 wanted then or at some other time, also the 
 place of meeting. 
 
 On a still, quiet summer's eve, although the 
 sound was heard by no one else, Caleb would 
 hurry to the sounding rock a precipitous ledge 
 in the forest, against which the distant sound 
 seemed to gather or impinge, and from which he 
 could return the answering signal. From the 
 farther side of the Suncook, nearly two miles 
 away, the call of Catamount could be heard, and 
 
112 IN THE CABIN. 
 
 from where he stood, Caleb's answering signal 
 was as distinct. 
 
 The Indian's admiration for Forest Flower, as 
 he continued to call Winnie, increased as she 
 grew in years and loveliness. The Bible had 
 continued to be her only classic, but the school- 
 master had taught her to discover the majesty 
 and beauty of the poetry of the Psalms, the deep 
 pathos and sublime passages in the book of Job, 
 and the grand utterances of the old prophets. 
 He had likewise helped to improve her art of 
 reading, which was pleasing from the first, and 
 often now, as, in one of her favorite haunts, 
 either upon the lofty perch on the mountain 
 side, or by the margin of the brook, whose mur- 
 mur made a fitting accompaniment to her voice, 
 she read aloud from the sacred page, upon look- 
 ing up she would discover Catamount, motion- 
 less as a statue, listening to her reading. 
 
 Usually, when the book closed, he would slip 
 away as quietly as he had come, but of late he 
 had often expressed himself in this manner: 
 
 ''Words of Great Spirit good. Ingun hear 
 'um in his heart. The voice of Forest Flower 
 carry 'um there. " 
 
IN THE CABIN. 113 
 
 In which instance was verified, " The entrance 
 of Thy Word giveth light." 
 
 The heart of Catamount, which, at first, he had 
 said was all dark, began to receive the light of 
 truth. 
 
 Though his step was elastic, and noiseless as 
 the tread of the animal whose name he bore, 
 there were traces on his countenance, when in 
 repose, that spoke of age. His frame was thin 
 and meagre, enabling him to move about with 
 ease and even agility, but it was not the ease 
 and agility of youth; the impress of time was 
 upon him, though without any marked distinct- 
 ness. His was a nature, or composition, which 
 held all its powers and faculties, as it were, in 
 unison : not one of which seemed to fail before 
 another. 
 
 Catamount's treatment of Caleb during his 
 alarming illness had wrought a permanent cure. 
 Since the hour of his recovery he had not known 
 sickness in any form, and his power of endurance 
 had become truly wonderful. Fleet as a deer, 
 agile as a panther, the boy seemed now like one 
 formed and constituted for the chase and forest 
 life. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE GOVERNOR'S PARTY. 
 
 THE gathering of the elite of the province, 
 at the home of Gov. Wentworth, on the 
 shore of the Winnipesockee, had been appointed 
 to take place on the first of July. Great prepa- 
 rations were made, both by the guests and the 
 host. The Governor enjoyed the society of 
 young people, and his invitation included not 
 only the members of the Legislature, and other 
 gentlemen with whom he was on terms of inti- 
 macy, and their wives, but the young ladies and 
 young gentlemen as well. 
 
 The usual route, at that day, was by the way 
 of Dover, Rochester, and thus to the northerly 
 side of the lake. But a dozen or so of young 
 men invited guests determined upon an in- 
 dependent way of travel by land from Durham, 
 at which place they rendezvoused for a start. 
 
 Those from Portsmouth, Newington and 
 Greenland came to Durham by boats. Here 
 114 
 
THE GOVERNOR'S PARTY. 115 
 
 they provided themselves with rations for a two 
 or three days* tramp through the wilderness to 
 what is now Alton Bay, where a boat was fur- 
 nished to take them up the lake to Wolfeborough. 
 
 They were disposed to make the journey an 
 easy one, providing themselves with fish and 
 game on their way, to help out the supplies. 
 
 It was toward noon, of the second day of their 
 start, that they came to the open meadow below 
 the cabin not far from where the brook issues 
 from the forest as it rushes from the heights 
 above. Here they made a halt : and while some 
 of their number started a fire, others went fish- 
 ing along the stream, while others still dressed 
 the game already secured the fish, the game, 
 and the contents of their knapsacks furnishing 
 an abundant and tempting dinner. 
 
 The repast over, and being in no hurry to re- 
 sume their journey, they threw themselves upon 
 the thick grass under the shade of the trees, or 
 sat together in knots of two or three, recounting 
 their adventures and speculating on the future. 
 
 Among those who were resting in the shade 
 by the side of the brook, was a young gentleman 
 of somewhat distinguished appearance, and one, 
 
n6 THE GOVERNOR'S PARTY. 
 
 too, who seemed a general favorite among his 
 companions. 
 
 Growing restive and uneasy, one of them said : 
 
 "What is the matter with you, Wentworth 
 Hunking, that you can't keep still ? " 
 
 " It seems to me there is a wonderful charm 
 in the murmur of this brook," replied the young 
 man. 
 
 "There's only the gurgling and splashing like 
 all brooks. What of that ? " 
 
 " Perhaps that's all, but it won't let me sleep, 
 or rest, so I sha'n't try any longer. I thought I 
 was a trifle weary before dinner, but now I am 
 fresh as morning." 
 
 "Well, I feel nappish, so be quiet." 
 
 " You don't feel like prefixing an s to it, do 
 you?" 
 
 " What ! and make it snappish ? I may, if you 
 disturb my nap much longer." 
 
 "Well, go to sleep, old fellow, and Til court 
 the companionship of this beautiful brook 
 awhile." 
 
 Saying which, Wentworth Hunking sprang 
 lightly to his feet, and a moment later disap- 
 peared in the forest. He walked on, following 
 
THE GOVERNOR'S PARTY. 117 
 
 up the current of the brook, like one rapt in 
 thought, pausing now and then to watch the 
 dancing water that seemed to him like a thing 
 of real life, as it whirled, and gurgled, and 
 shouted, leaping from declivity to declivity on 
 its way to the meadow. Up, and up, and up he 
 went, wondering from whence could come so 
 full a stream from such an elevation. 
 
 At length he gained a little plateau, and think- 
 ing he had wandered far enough, was about to 
 turn back, when, from a little thicket a short 
 distance above, came the sound of a low, soft 
 voice. 
 
 At first he could distinguish no word, only an 
 indistinct humming, as of one lost in revery. 
 This ceased, after which the voice floated out to 
 him in a clear, sweet song : 
 
 What's the mystery we call life ? 
 
 From whence comes it, whither goes ? 
 Every hour with blessings rife, 
 
 From beginning to the close. 
 
 Sweet is the life with goodness crowned. 
 
 Happy is the heart that loves, 
 Joy compasses the earth around, 
 
 If it's mated as the dove's. 
 
n8 THE GOVERNOR'S PARTY. 
 
 All my life is sweetly flowing ; 
 
 Strangely comes the thought to me 
 Am I thus through life a-going, 
 
 Careless, mateless, ever free ? 
 
 Somewhere, somewhere, now there may be 
 One true heart, as mine that sighs 
 
 All unresting, seeking for me, 
 Shall I ever meet his eyes ? 
 
 " God is love." How sweet the thought is, 
 
 Love fulfils the law of life, 
 Thus from Him the Spirit caught is, 
 
 That the heart with love makes rife. 
 
 Before " the strain gave o'er," the young man 
 had regained his composure, and, going to the 
 thicket from whence the song proceeded, he cau- 
 tiously drew aside the thick boughs of a young 
 hemlock, and there, before him, was presented a 
 vision fairer than any his imagination had ever 
 pictured. 
 
 He stood fully disclosed, near the singer, be- 
 fore her eye caught sight of him as she had 
 ceased singing. 
 
 She had so often found Catamount a silent 
 and unlooked-for attendant upon her solitude, 
 that she was not startled at the presence of a 
 
WINNIE BY THK BROOK. 
 
THE GOVERNORS PARTY. 
 
 stranger, neither was Wentworth Hunking one 
 to inspire alarm even in the timid. 
 
 At sight of him, however, the color deepened 
 on her sweet face. 
 
 " I pray you, pardon me for this seeming in- 
 trusion. I could not choose but come. The 
 sound of your voice was irresistible. " 
 
 " I little thought I had other audience than 
 the birds and the trees/* said the singer, as 
 the startled look left her face. 
 
 " I wish I might hope your heart is in sym- 
 pathy with the words of your song." 
 
 " If you are as noble as you look to be, per- 
 haps I might be willing to make the confession. 
 I am certainly disposed to pardon what you call 
 an intrusion." 
 
 " I thank you, and bless the charm which this 
 brook seemed to possess in drawing me to your 
 retreat. While my companions are resting in 
 the valley below, I have strayed hither. But is 
 it possible that your home is in this wilderness ?" 
 
 " Our dwelling is but a little way above here. 
 Will you come with me there ? You will be a 
 welcome guest." 
 
 "It is very hard to decline, but I must not 
 
120 THE GOVERNORS PARTY. 
 
 stay now. My comrades are impatiently signal- 
 ling my return, and I ought not to detain them. 
 We are on our way to Gov. Wentworth's at Wolfe- 
 borough ; he is my uncle. I shall return at the 
 earliest moment, and shall hope to meet you 
 here again, if that meeting will give you the 
 pleasure it will me.'* 
 
 "I am sure it will," said Winnie (for the 
 reader knows it was she), with a maidenly blush 
 as her eyes met the earnest gaze of the stranger. 
 
 He then seized her hand, and, pressing it pas- 
 sionately to his lips, bade her " Good-by ! " and 
 rejoined his companions, who little suspected 
 the cause of his absence, and the journey was at 
 once resumed. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ALMOST A CALAMITY. 
 
 REAT was the enjoyment of the Governor 
 and his guests. Amusement was fur- 
 nished for all, and those advanced in years found 
 themselves participating with real zest, in the 
 pleasures of their early youth. 
 
 The merry-making lasted several days. There 
 were among the company those who had not 
 taken part in the pleasure of the hunt for many 
 years, that now entered into the sport with the 
 abandon of youth. Guns and fowling pieces of 
 every kind were brought into requisition, and 
 parties of two and three, started off in search of 
 the game the woods about the Governor's res- 
 idence were known to contain, while others 
 scoured the country around for its ponds and 
 streams famous then as now for the speckled 
 trout and the perch. 
 
 Let us follow one of these two members of 
 the Legislature, and a leading citizen of Ports- 
 
122 ALMOST A CALAMITY. 
 
 mouth : Messrs. Weare of Hampton Falls, Mars- 
 ton of Hampton, and Williams of Portsmouth. 
 They went by boat, into the vicinity of Red 
 Mountain. Not much game was expected ; they 
 went "for the sport of the thing," and agreed 
 to fire at almost anything they saw moving. 
 At separating, they thought best to keep within 
 calling distance, lest they lose their way in the 
 wilderness, though, with the bald summits of the 
 Sandwich Mountains on one hand, and of Red 
 Mountain on the other, there was little danger 
 of that. 
 
 They had gone about half a mile or more from 
 the shore of the lake when Mr. Williams, who 
 had pushed on in advance of the others, see- 
 ing some object moving before him, pulled up 
 and fired, then hurried forward to secure his 
 game, to find that he had wounded a young cub 
 which began crying piteously. In a moment, to 
 his horror, the old mother bear came rushing to- 
 ward him from a thicket near by. Being tolera- 
 bly nimble of foot, he ran, pursued by the angry 
 brute. His purpose was, to spring into a tree 
 and get beyond her reach, but she was too spry 
 for him, and, in his attempt to elude her, his 
 
ALMOST A CALAMITY. I2J 
 
 foot caught in a bush and he fell heavily to the 
 ground. 
 
 The enraged beast seemed now to have her 
 victim in her power, when a shot was fired from 
 a thicket near by. The comrades of Mr. Williams 
 were still at a distance, but as he had called for 
 help, they were hastening toward him to learn 
 the cause of his alarm. 
 
 The shot took effect upon the bear, but at no 
 vital part, and though for a moment she was di- 
 verted from her victim, the next instant she was 
 about to seize upon him again, when, quick as a 
 flash, a slight figure sprang upon her, and dealt 
 her a heavy blow with the breech of his gun, 
 shattering it to splinters. 
 
 Leaving Mr. Williams, the bear gave chase to 
 her new assailant, who, with the agility of a cat, 
 and the fleetness of the deer, easily eluded her, 
 and while provoking her to pursue him, drew her 
 away from her first, victim. For several min- 
 utes he amused himself by doubling about and 
 keeping just beyond the reach of his enraged 
 and ferocious pursuer, till, weakened from the 
 effects of the wounds she had received, and the 
 effort to reach her provoking enemy, the bear 
 
124 ALMOST A CALAMITY. 
 
 stopped. Then stepping to one side, the young 
 man called out, 
 
 " Now, Catamount, finish J er," and another 
 shot was instantly fired, when the bear rolled 
 lifeless to the ground. 
 
 His two companions had now arrived, and, 
 with Mr. Williams, who, though stunned, and for 
 the moment terror-stricken, had risen, witnessed 
 the performance. At first he was greatly in 
 doubt if his deliverer were flesh and blood, 
 so fleet, so self-possessed and undaunted did he 
 seem to be. Paying no heed to the dead beast 
 he caught the young man in his arms lest he 
 elude him likewise and prove a phantom. 
 
 "Who on earth are you?" he asked, "and 
 did you come from the clouds or spring out of 
 the earth ? " 
 
 " Narry one, nor t'other," was the reply. " Cat- 
 amount 'n I was jest tryin' tu git sight 'o the old 
 bear when you shot the cub." 
 
 " Catamount ! Who or what is Catamount ? 
 Where is he?" 
 
 "There," nodding toward where the Indian 
 stood. 
 
 " What ! an Indian, eh ? I didn't know there 
 
ALMOST A CALAMITY. 12$ 
 
 were any in these parts." And so said both of 
 his companions. 
 
 " Here is your gun," said Mr. Weare ; " you 
 dropped it near the cub." 
 
 " Ah ! yes ; I found I had got to take to my 
 heels the best I could. Here, young man, it is 
 yours, and here is a piece of money to get your 
 own repaired beside." And Mr. Williams put 
 into the hands of his deliverer a gold coin of 
 the value of two such guns as was his when new. 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed, " if you give me this here 
 harnsome gun, it'll pay for the old 'un twice 
 yis, ten times over ! It's the harnsomest piece I 
 ever seen." 
 
 " Well, young man, you have richly earned it, 
 and a hundred times more. You can use the 
 money to buy powder, balls and shot, and when 
 that's gone, come to me at Portsmouth and you 
 shall have as much more. You will find my 
 name in silver letters on the gun." 
 
 The young man examined the fowling piece 
 carefully, and after a moment read, " Israel Wil- 
 liams." 
 
 "Why," said he, "my dad knows him; I've 
 heernhim speak on 'im a good many times." 
 
126 ALMOST A CALAMITY. 
 
 "Where does your father live ? " 
 
 " 'Tother side the Suncook." 
 
 " And what is his name ? " 
 
 " Than Clifford." 
 
 "Than Clifford," repeated Mr. Williams. 
 " The name sounds familiar, but I don't recall it." 
 
 Caleb (for it was none other than he) was too 
 much interested in examining his prize to heed 
 the remarks of Mr. Williams, and presently he 
 and Catamount took leave of the party. 
 
 " So narrow an escape and so wonderful a 
 deliverance I never heard of before," exclaimed 
 Mr. Weare. 
 
 " Who ever met so singular a person as that 
 young fellow ? Why, he seemed more like a 
 phantom than a human being. He seemed 
 hardly to touch the ground, but glided like a 
 thing of air, and sported with the ferocious 
 brute as carelessly as though she had been some 
 harmless plaything," said Mr. Marston. 
 
 " Well, I shall think my life of some account 
 in the world after such an interposition of Prov- 
 idence in my behalf," said Mr. Williams. 
 
 " What shall we do with our game ? " asked 
 Mr. Weare. 
 
ALMOST A CALAMITY. I2/ 
 
 "Let her rot where she lies," returned Mr. 
 Williams. " I have had enough of her/' 
 
 " Are you much hurt?" inquired Mr. Weare. 
 
 " I was stunned by the fall, and that, and the 
 terror of the fright quite unmanned me for the 
 moment/' replied Mr. Williams as they started 
 to return to the lake. 
 
 His appearance showed that some misfortune 
 had befallen him, and at dinner he related his 
 adventure to the company. 
 
 By the time he had finished, word came that 
 something of importance must have happened 
 "below," for a boat containing two men was 
 coming up the lake with all possible speed. 
 Great anxiety was manifested as to the cause of 
 this. 
 
 The boat landed. One of the men was the 
 bearer of a package to the Governor. 
 
 Hastily running his eye over the document, 
 he said : " The affairs of the province as yet are 
 safe. But/' he continued, "there is more mis- 
 chief on foot from our bitter enemy Livius. 
 He is striving with might and main for the ap- 
 pointment, by the King, to the office of Chief 
 Justice of New Hampshire, and our friends in 
 
128 ALMOST A CALAMITY. 
 
 England wish us to send with all possible de- 
 spatch, remonstrances to his appointment, from 
 the Legislature and the principal men of the 
 province." 
 
 As good fortune would have it, some one 
 more in a merry mood than otherwise had, 
 when the Legislature adjourned, moved to meet 
 at the residence of Gov. Wentworth in Wolfe- 
 borough, and, on counting up, it was found there 
 were present sufficient members to form a 
 quorum. 
 
 A remonstrance in proper form had already 
 been drawn up, and all that was needful now was 
 to take the proper steps for its signing. When 
 this was done the Governor said : 
 
 " Three days hence, a vessel will sail from 
 Boston for England, and these papers must be in 
 the hands of a bearer of despatches on board that 
 craft. Whom shall we send ? " 
 
 " None of us old men/' said Mr. Atkinson. 
 " It needs some one who is young and spry." 
 
 "I nominate my young nephew, Wentworth 
 Hunking," said the Governor, and he was ap- 
 pointed by a hearty and unanimous vote. 
 
 To the surprise of all, he received the appoint- 
 
ALMOST A CALAMITY. 1 29 
 
 ment with reluctance, and would have peremp- 
 torily declined had he yielded to the promptings 
 of his own heart. The reader will have no diffi- 
 culty in divining the cause, although none pres- 
 ent were able to tell. 
 
 In almost as short a time as it takes to write it, 
 Wentworth Hunking prepared to take his leave, 
 and stepped into the light craft that had brought 
 the despatch. Meanwhile, the two men had been 
 abundantly feasted while preparations were in 
 progress for their return, and, as the lake was 
 smooth, with but a gentle west wind, they bent 
 manfully to the oars, and the light boat soon 
 shot out of sight. 
 
 The sun had set, and twilight was settling 
 down over lake and forest, when the boat 
 reached the southern, or rather, eastern point of 
 that arm of the lake now known as Alton Bay. 
 Here horses were provided, but as there was 
 a little delay in getting them in readiness, 
 young Hunking wandered along the shore of the 
 lake until he came to a large bowlder ; seating 
 himself thereon, or partially leaning against it, 
 something touched his shoulder, and, looking 
 round, he was confronted by an Indian. Al- 
 
I3O ALMOST A CALAMITY. 
 
 though he was a young man of courage, this sud- 
 den apparition startled him. 
 
 " Does the heart of the young white brave 
 sigh for the sight of Forest Flower by the run- 
 ning brook beyond the Suncook?" was quietly 
 asked. 
 
 " Do you mean," the young man hesitated. 
 " I do not even know her name," he exclaimed. 
 "But you must mean her." 
 
 " Ingun love Forest Flower. He was near 
 that no harm come to her, when the young brave 
 hear her voice, and go to her. They not know 
 Ingun near " 
 
 " Go to her," he interrupted, "and tell her 
 that cruel Fate sends me across the great water, 
 but that my heart is with her, and when I return, 
 which will be soon, I shall hasten to her." 
 
 He had given his message none too soon, for, 
 scarcely had he finished, when word came that 
 the horses were ready, and, turning to urge the 
 Indian to make all possible haste, he found he 
 had disappeared as suddenly and noiselessly as 
 he had come, leaving the young man in some 
 doubt as to whether the vision had been real or 
 not. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 
 
 THE day dawned bright and clear. The 
 new, mysterious light that shone upon the 
 sweet face of Winnie the past few days had not 
 been unnoticed by the inmates of the cabin, but 
 it was not commented upon, for her heart was 
 always light, and she so often discovered some 
 hidden mystery or beauty in Nature that excited 
 her admiration and added to her pleasure, it was 
 not to be wondered at. 
 
 Of late the favorite seat at eventide, on the 
 mountain side, had been deserted, and she had 
 remained by the brook till the decline of the 
 sun gathered dampness in the forest. 
 
 To-day, having early discharged her duties, 
 which were light, in the household, she was ear- 
 lier than was her wont at this quiet retreat, and, 
 could an unseen observer have been near, it 
 would have been easy to detect the sign of 
 excitement in her heaving bosom, and the 
 
132 A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 
 
 heightened color on her fair face. Though she 
 did not altogether anticipate the approach of 
 him who had so deeply stirred her hitherto un- 
 moved heart, the bare possibility that he might 
 come sent the blood surging in swifter current 
 through her veins, and gave to her face a sweeter 
 charm than it usually wore. 
 
 Sitting there, she became impressed with the 
 thought that some one was near, and, turning 
 her head, discovered Catamount. 
 
 " The heart of Forest Flower is with the 
 young white brave who went to the counsel of 
 the Great Sachems on the Winnipesockee," said 
 the Indian. 
 
 " O, Catamount ! do you know him ? " she 
 pleaded. 
 
 " 'Um talk last night by the water," replied 
 Catamount. " The Great Sachems, at their 
 counsel, have sent him over the great salt 
 water, but his heart is by the running water 
 where he met Forest Flower." 
 
 " How did you know him ? " asked Winnie. 
 
 " Him near when the young brave hear the 
 voice of Forest Flower by the running water," 
 was the answer. 
 
A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 133 
 
 "Then you know it all," said Winnie, blushing. 
 
 " Young brave very great among the Sachems 
 of the Great Council, and he love Forest Flower 
 great much. He tell Ingun say he come soon 
 and meet Forest Flower again." 
 
 " O, Catamount ! did he tell you so ? " ex- 
 claimed the young girl. " How did he look ? 
 Is he not noble and good ? " she continued anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " He much brave and good. Forest Flower 
 can give her heart to him. He make great 
 Sachem when many snows come and go. He 
 love Great Spirit, too, and talk with Him." 
 
 Winnie pondered his words a moment, then 
 thought to question Catamount further, but he 
 was gone. He had flashed the intelligence upon 
 her and disappeared, as in the case of the young 
 man. 
 
 But the words of the Indian cheered and com- 
 forted her. The absence of the one whom her 
 heart followed, would be long, but it was en- 
 forced, and he too looked forward to a meeting 
 when he should return. This thought caused 
 the light of love to burn brightly in her heart. 
 New purposes and new ambitions were born at 
 
134 A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 
 
 this hour. She was no longer " careless, mate- 
 less, ever free/' as her song had it, but an- 
 other's, and he hers ! What sweeter, purer 
 thought could possess a maiden's heart ? 
 
 As the days glided swiftly by the prosperity 
 of the cabin continued to increase. The crops 
 were abundant. Peace, and contentment, and 
 happiness, were the lot of all. 
 
 It was toward sunset, near the close of July ; 
 there were indications that a thunder storm of un- 
 common severity was imminent. Than and Jim 
 had hurried through their chores and were about 
 to enter the cabin to escape the rain which had 
 begun to fall in large drops, when a stranger 
 hastily approached the cabin from the mountain 
 side, and asked for shelter. His sudden appear- 
 ance, genteel and pleasing address as if he 
 had come in from a near neighbor's was a sur- 
 prise to all, but they gave him a ready and hearty 
 welcome. 
 
 This stranger was none other than Harry Deer- 
 foot, who, in his polite and affable manner, had a 
 pleasant word for each one present. Caleb was 
 absent with Catamount ; he would remain away 
 for several days. Rumor said, that some of the 
 
A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 135 
 
 Indian tribes to the North and East, were pre- 
 paring to go on the war-path against the English 
 on the Eastern frontier, whose encroachments 
 had greatly provoked them. 
 
 When Deerfoot addressed Winnie he showed 
 some embarrassment, but she replied with ease 
 and grace to all his remarks. Used as he was 
 to the ways of the world, and having an acquaint- 
 ance with men of all ranks, he could not conceal 
 his surprise at meeting with so much beauty and 
 selfpossession in this lone cabin. 
 
 The storm proved less severe than was antici- 
 pated. It had spent its strength before it 
 reached the mountain. The clouds soon cleared, 
 and the sun sank to rest in splendor, leaving huge 
 folds of massive clouds behind, gorgeous with 
 purple, vermilion and gold. A sight that filled 
 the observers at the cabin with admiration as 
 they stepped to the door to look upon its splendor. 
 
 As the beauty of the sunset faded, Deerfoot 
 began to look around and admire and praise 
 everything he saw, and it was not long before 
 he and Than were engaged in conversation 
 concerning the location, and Deerfoot eagerly in- 
 quired how it was that he had made his home so 
 
136 A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 
 
 far in advance of other frontier settlers, where- 
 upon he received a full history of the entire 
 matter. 
 
 The narrative interested his visitor, who pro- 
 ceeded to draw from Than a full account of 
 almost everything that had happened during his 
 life. No mention was made of Winnie's advent in 
 the household, however. His story dated from 
 the time he went to Portsmouth from " the Jar- 
 sey Shore." 
 
 The young man spent the night at the cabin, 
 giving as the reason for his being in the neigh- 
 borhood, that he had lost his way in coming from 
 Durham to Epsom ; and, that, having ascended 
 the mountain to find out his position, he discov- 
 ered the cabin. The next morning he seemed in 
 no hurry to go ; on the contrary, he manifested 
 a disposition to become better acquainted with 
 Winnie. She was social, but maintained a re- 
 serve which Deerfoot was unable to overcome. 
 When at last he took his leave, it was to say he 
 expected to remain for a few days at his uncle's 
 in Epsom, and begged the privilege of making 
 another visit to the cabin, which was cheerfully 
 granted. 
 
A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 137 
 
 Jim was greatly charmed with their visitor. 
 He had shared his room with him, and they had 
 talked familiarly about the affairs of the family. 
 
 Deerfoot's stay must have been very short at 
 Epsom, if indeed he went there at all, for the 
 day after leaving the cabin, he passed the even- 
 ing at the house of Humphrey Dugan. Of late 
 he had become a frequent, almost a constant vis- 
 tor at his home. An intimacy that was re- 
 marked upon had sprung up between them. 
 Some of his friends chided Deerfoot for so often 
 being in the company of the old Kidnaper, but he 
 only laughed and shrugged his shoulders at their 
 apprehensions. 
 
 The robberies in Portsmouth and vicinity had 
 become rare, and the perpetrator, or perpetra- 
 tors, were supposed to have gone elsewhere to 
 ply their art, when suddenly the town was star- 
 tled by one of the most daring crimes ever re- 
 corded. It was in open daylight, and in sight 
 of his own door, that one of Portsmouth's prom- 
 inent men was stopped by a masked highway- 
 man, and compelled to give up a well-filled purse 
 and a valuable gold watch. The town was at 
 once aroused, and a search instituted, but no 
 
138 A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 
 
 trace of the offender could be found. Dugan 
 could not be accused of this, for it was well 
 known that he was in his own house when the 
 deed was committed. In fact, he was most 
 active in seeking to bring the offender to justice. 
 
 " For," he reasoned, " who is safe even in his 
 own home, if this can be done in broad daylight ? " 
 
 Some light may be thrown upon the matter if 
 we give an account of an interview that took 
 place between Dugan and Deerfoot after his re- 
 turn from the cabin of Clifford. 
 
 " Where do you suppose I spent night before 
 last ? " began Deerfoot. 
 
 " Where ? How can I guess ? " was the care- 
 less answer 
 
 " It was in the cabin of a man by the name of 
 Than Clifford." 
 
 " Zounds," exclaimed Dugan, springing to his 
 feet in his surprise and excitement. " I've 
 always prayed to live long enough to have re- 
 venge on him, and now I'll have it. Tell me 
 where on the earth he is ! " 
 
 " Oh ! be seated, and compose yourself," said 
 Deerfoot, "you cannot reach him to-night ; and 
 if you could, it would do you no good." 
 
A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 139 
 
 " Do no good ! What do you mean ? Do you 
 suppose I am to be cheated out of my revenge 
 after having waited patiently all these years ? If 
 you knew Humphrey Dugan you would know 
 better than that," he replied fiercely. 
 
 " I have no such idea, but there are some 
 things to be taken into account. You cannot 
 go to his house, and satisfy yourself, either by 
 shooting him or assaulting him as he did you." 
 
 " But the law ! the law ! I shall let the law 
 avenge me." 
 
 " The law ! he and all his friends would laugh 
 you to scorn if you invoked the law after all these 
 years ; and then, public sentiment is, and will 
 be, on his side, and the law would only add to 
 your abuse and provocation." 
 
 " What, then, am I to do ? " 
 
 " I will tell you a plan that will put him into 
 the hands of the law, but in a different way from 
 what you propose. If it can be made to appear 
 that he is a confederate with the one who is per- 
 petrating the robberies here, the law will quickly 
 have him in its grasp." 
 
 " But I want him to know that I am having 
 my revenge." 
 
140 A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 
 
 " If you are active in bringing the law upon 
 him for this, he will know quick enough what it 
 is all for." 
 
 . " But he may get out of it and escape punish- 
 ment, in that way." 
 
 " How can he, if the property that has been 
 taken from people be found with him ? " 
 
 "Well, he can't, that's certain." 
 
 " Now, I will tell you of something more that 
 may trouble his peace. There is a most charm- 
 ing girl in his family whom he calls his daugh- 
 ter, but I'll bet a thousand dollars she is not ; 
 but she is as dear to him as the apple of his eye, 
 and I want her. Though I know she must have 
 a heart of fire, for some reason which I cannot 
 understand, she is as cold as ice toward me. 
 
 " Herein, now, is a further means of revenge. 
 You have had some experience in kidnaping, 
 try your hand again on this girl and carry her 
 off without harming her, to an island in the Win- 
 nipesockee Lake, where all creation can't find her, 
 and I will be the lucky knight-errant to discover 
 and save her, and in this way I can gain her heart 
 and love." 
 
 " Can all this be done ? " 
 
A PLOT FOR REVENGE. 14! 
 
 " With perfect ease. Leave it to me." 
 
 "I'll do it." 
 
 " Only put the matter into my hands and let 
 me use your servants. I have already an island 
 selected, and the means of reaching it in safety 
 and secrecy. It will be easy to get provisions 
 there without exciting suspicion, and let your 
 old cook and that shrivelled one-eyed servant of 
 yours go there to take care of the girl, until I 
 make my appearance." 
 
 " Do as you like ; they are at your service 
 for that and anything else to carry out your 
 plans. An ingenious scheme a very ingenious 
 scheme," said Dugan, rubbing his hands in glee 
 at this prospect of revenge. 
 
 Deerfoot left the house of Dugan late at night. 
 Shrugging his shoulders, he muttered : " I'll hang 
 the old villain with his own rope. He shall aid me 
 in bringing to light the child of her father who 
 shall, after she is mine, claim her own and beggar 
 him. _ Won't he stare when he sees one whom he 
 thinks to be dead ? The sight of Lute will sear 
 his eyeballs and doom him to the gallows." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE ARREST. 
 
 TWO or three weeks later still the town 
 of Portsmouth was thrown into a fever of 
 excitement by the report that the place of con- 
 cealment of the party who had committed the 
 robberies, or their confederates, had been discov- 
 ered. Every one was eager to learn the details 
 entire, but while the name or names could not 
 be obtained, the place of concealment was said 
 to be miles distant in some secluded spot on the 
 frontier. No one was more active and impatient 
 in urging on measures for bringing the criminals 
 to justice than Dugan. 
 
 Search-warrants were issued, and the officers 
 of the law, reinforced by a strong posse of men, 
 among these Dugan and a servant of his, each 
 well mounted, were ready to do duty. 
 
 Than and Jim were busy with their work on an 
 early day in August, when this company suddenly 
 invaded their premises. A part of the number 
 142 
 
THE ARREST. 143 
 
 surrounded them, while others rushed in and 
 ransacked the house. Presently Dugan's ser- 
 vant appeared, holding up to view a gold watch 
 and a box of jewels which he had, he said, found 
 secreted in the attic. Other things were discov- 
 ered, among them a purse containing a small 
 amount of gold and silver. 
 
 Dugan was beside himself with excitement. 
 
 " We've found the villains at last," he ex- 
 claimed, as Than and Jim were taken into cus- 
 tody. They were scarcely gone before three 
 others arrived, who, seizing Winnie, lifted her 
 upon a horse and rode away. Debby begged 
 them to take her, but they said they were only 
 sent for the girl. So, crushed, stunned, and in 
 despair, she stood there, the picture of terror 
 and wretchedness. What had befallen her? 
 Had hers been an earthly hope and reliance, 
 reason would have forsaken her as she stood 
 thus deserted. 
 
 " O God ! " she cried at last, as she fell upon 
 her knees, " have mercy. Oh ! sustain me in 
 this awful hour. Forgive me that my faith has 
 nearly failed me. Can it be that '#// things work 
 together for good to them that love Thee ? ' It 
 
144 THE ARREST; 
 
 is Thy word, and I know Thy word never, never, 
 never fails. Oh ! blessed, blessed faith and hope, 
 come back to my heart. O, Lord ! defend and 
 sustain dear, dear Winnie. Oh ! save her from 
 harm. Is she not a sweet, pure and holy child ? 
 
 " Yes, yes," she murmured, rising from her 
 knees comforted, and, in a measure, calm, " we 
 are all in the hands of a loving Father who does 
 all things well. No murmur shall escape my 
 lips. I have seen His mercy too often and too 
 clear to doubt it now. 
 
 " Caleb, O yes ! I have a comfort left Caleb 
 is safe. Oh ! when will he come ? " 
 
 For several weeks he and Catamount had been, 
 most of the time, absent ; sometimes on the con- 
 fines of Canada, and sometimes in the deep wil- 
 derness of Maine, watching the movements of the 
 Indian tribes preparing to go on the war-path. 
 
 The day following the arrests, a heavy rain set 
 in, continuing far into the night. Toward even- 
 ing, the next day, Caleb returned. 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed, upon learning the sad 
 story, " if Catamount was only here." 
 
 With little hope of reaching the ear of the 
 Indian, after nightfall, and when all was still, he 
 
THE ARREST. 145 
 
 left the cabin and went to Sounding Rock. 
 With all his strength he sent the signal call into 
 the silent valley. He listened ; there was no re- 
 turn. He tried again, and listened, when, to his 
 great joy, faintly came an answering note, and 
 before midnight Catamount entered the cabin. 
 
 " Caleb," said his mother next morning, 
 " what will you do ? That awful Dugan will take 
 you tu, if he knows who ye are.'* 
 
 " I'll tell ye, mother, I'll go tu the man that 
 gin me the gun, Mr. Williams. He told me tu 
 come tu him if I ever wanted anything." 
 
 "Wai, ye can du that, sure 'nough." 
 
 " Father 'n Jim I hain't no fear 'bout ; but 
 who knows what'll 'come of Winnie. O, dear 
 mother ! I'd rather die than have any evil come 
 to her." 
 
 " The Lord will d'fend and pr'tect her, Caleb. 
 Nobody can du her harm ; the very sight of her 
 would disarm a monster." 
 
 That day at evening Caleb was at the door of 
 Mr. Williams' mansion. It was opened by a 
 colored servant. 
 
 " I wants to see Mr. Williams," said Caleb. 
 
 " You ! " said the servant incredulously. 
 
146 THE ARREST. 
 
 "Yes ; I want tu see him right away." 
 
 "Wai, he don't want to see you, I can tell 
 you that myself," said the servant pompously, 
 and was about to close the door when Mr. Wil- 
 liams, who had fortunately heard himself asked 
 for, stepped forward and severely reprimanded 
 his servant for his incivility. When he recog- 
 nized Caleb he grasped him with both hands 
 and almost bore him bodily into his handsome 
 library. Seeing his face by the light he said : 
 
 " You are in trouble, young man. Tell me, 
 how can I help you." 
 
 "Dad J n Jim's took, and Winnie's carried off. 
 I hain't no fear 'bout dad 'n Jim, but 'bout Win- 
 nie." 
 
 "Who is your dad?" 
 
 "Than Clifford." 
 
 " Than Clifford. Yes ; I remember you told 
 me so up there in the woods when you saved 
 my life. You say there taken : what do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " I don't know, only a lot of men, ma'am says, 
 come and rushed into the house and said they'd 
 found a gold watch and a pus of money " 
 
 " O, ho ! I know what you mean now. They 
 
THE ARREST. 147 
 
 are well, how is this ? Let me see Than 
 Clifford ! That name is certainly familiar. " 
 
 " Don't ye 'member 'bout that ere time when 
 dad took keer o' your lumber up t' 'Scassic and 
 gin Dugan that " 
 
 " Ah ! there, now, I have it ; and Dugan has 
 been very forward in this business of catching 
 rogues. I see through it all now. The scamp ! " 
 he exclaimed. " But what about the girl Win- 
 nie, did you say ? " 
 
 " Yis; three men come and took her'n carried 
 her off on a hoss, ma'am said. Catamount 'n I 
 was off on the Aroostick watching the strange 
 [hostile] Inguns there and didn't git home till tu 
 days arter." 
 
 "I have heard nothing of any but the two 
 men. Who, besides your father ? " 
 
 "Jim; ye know he's Uncle Zeeb's son that's 
 dead." 
 
 " Worse and worse for the old Kidnaper. I 
 dare say it is he that has had a hand in taking 
 the girl. Is she your sister ? " 
 
 " Yis ; and she's the handsomest bein' anybody 
 ever sot eyes on." 
 
 "The more's the pity," said Mr. Williams, 
 
148 THE ARREST. 
 
 musing, and looking sober. "Here 'tis, dark 
 now, and nothing can be done till morning. 
 You must have some supper and stay here to- 
 night." 
 
 " No ; I must stay with Catamount." 
 
 "But have him come too. I insist upon it. 
 Where is he ? " 
 
 " He's round somewhere, but I can soon git 
 him." 
 
 " Well, do so," and as he spoke Mr. Williams 
 summoned a servant. "Tell the cook to get 
 supper for two ; the best the house affords 
 plenty of meat. Tell her to do it speedily as 
 possible." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Now let me see, your name is ' 
 
 " Caleb." 
 
 " Yes ; well, Caleb, have Catamount here with 
 you, by all means. Don't fail now, for I want 
 to see him." 
 
 The call of Caleb soon brought the Indian, 
 who hesitated when invited to enter the "big 
 wigwam," but at last consented and followed 
 Caleb into the luxurious apartments, where, at 
 first, he felt ill at ease, but Mr. Williams, who 
 
THE ARREST. 149 
 
 was well acquainted with the habits of the na- 
 tives, made arrangements accordingly. 
 
 While the two were at supper he hurried out 
 to consult with the king's attorney, who had 
 been led to suppose he had real criminals on his 
 hands, and to get two or three others to come 
 with him to his house for consultation. On in- 
 quiry he found that the officers who had made the 
 arrests, knew nothing of the taking of Winnie. 
 That, he was confident, was the act of persons 
 employed by Dugan out of malice to Clifford. 
 
 Caleb and Catamount were urged to spend 
 the night at Mr. Williams', but the former said : 
 
 " No ; Catamount 'n I are used tu sleepin' in 
 the woods, and we must go back toward the 
 cabin's fur's we can, and git there airly to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 "Caleb," said Mr. Williams, "let me know 
 when you find your sister, if you do, but I have 
 great fears. You and the Indian can find her if 
 anybody can. Tell no one you have been here," 
 he cautioned at parting. 
 
 The consultation that took place at the home 
 of Mr. Williams' was long and earnest. It was 
 at last decided to let no suspicion get abroad that 
 
ISO THE ARREST. 
 
 the prisoners were others than the real crimi- 
 nals. One thing they were sure of the property 
 exhibited as found at Clifford's cabin, was prop- 
 erty which the adroit villain or villains had taken 
 from the person of citizens of Portsmouth ; and, 
 another thing was equally certain : either that 
 Than Clifford was guilty, or Dugan had some 
 hand in the robbery or in receiving what had 
 been taken, with the full knowledge of it. And, 
 to obtain the real offender, and his associate, 
 was the purpose to be accomplished ; and the 
 manner in which the robberies had been com- 
 mitted, proved to these men that it was no tri- 
 fling work they were engaged in. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE SEARCH. 
 
 and Catamount reached the cabin 
 early in the forenoon after leaving Ports- 
 mouth the night before. The tact and keenness 
 of an Indian in following a trail, where even the 
 faintest mark, or trace, can be found, is well 
 known, and to follow the trail, or tracks made 
 by the horse on which Winnie had been borne 
 off, even though a heavy rain had since oc- 
 curred, would seem easy enough. 
 
 This they at once set themselves to do. The 
 difficulty for a time lay in the fact that many 
 other horses had been in the vicinity of the 
 cabin the same day. But as these all returned 
 to Portsmouth except the one which bore Win- 
 nie, the place at which that horse turned off was 
 to be looked for. Then it might be that, after 
 being borne on the horse some distance, she 
 might have been taken off and led into the wil- 
 derness, while the horse kept on. 
 
152 THE SEARCH. 
 
 All these suggestions passed through the 
 mind of Catamount, for having been shown the 
 place where the horse stood when Winnie was 
 placed upon it, he examined long and carefully 
 the tracks that remained. The examination was 
 very unsatisfactory. The severe rain had 
 wholly obliterated any distinctive marks, and 
 they must trust to fortune to find any trace of 
 the lost one. 
 
 The day was spent in following the route from 
 the cabin to the vicinity of the frontier settle- 
 ments, but only at one place did the Indian 
 pause for any length of time. To this place he 
 returned next morning and resumed his search. 
 This spot was on the north side of the track 
 leading "down below." Here Winnie might 
 have been taken from the horse and led off into 
 the trackless forest, or the trail might have been 
 made by wild beasts, or, possibly, a .. solitary 
 hunter, or forest ranger. 
 
 Catamount after another examination finally 
 said : 
 
 " 'Urn follow/' holding up three fingers. 
 " 'Urn go here/' meaning that three persons had 
 passed that way. That would be, two to go with 
 
THE SEARCH. 153 
 
 Winnie, and one to go on with the horse, as had 
 been anticipated and feared might be the fact. 
 But whither could these villains be leading their 
 victim ? It might be to the eastward, or it might 
 be to the Winnipesockee. 
 
 At the place where the trail struck off from 
 the travelled track, the ground was favorable for 
 the discovery of traces of it, but when it had 
 been followed to a more open forest on high 
 ground, all trace disappeared. Still, by taking a 
 zigzag course, hoping to strike the trail again, 
 the Indian continued advancing in the general 
 direction which the trail had indicated. 
 
 About noon Caleb, who had kept on the search 
 too, and within call of Catamount, gave a shout 
 that called the Indian hastily to where he stood. 
 There, on a knoll, on the top of which was an 
 immense bowlder lying on the top of the ground, 
 were the remains of a recent encampment. One 
 side the rock was shelving, and beneath the over- 
 hanging part was a thick bed of freshly gathered 
 branches, that might have served as a resting- 
 place for one person. At a little distance off 
 were the extinguished brands and the ashes of 
 a recent fire. 
 
I 54 THE SEARCH. 
 
 Around here it could be seen were the tracks 
 of two persons, who were, without doubt, the ab- 
 ductors of Winnie, and the bed by the rock was 
 where she had passed the night. 
 
 From here again the trail was lost, only that 
 at long distances, Catamount would come upon 
 what seemed to be traces of it. 
 
 He kept on in the same direction, and at one 
 place, on the side of a stream which he exam- 
 ined for a long distance, up and down, until he 
 came to where it was plain some one had crossed, 
 he said, " 'Um walk woods Canada." 
 
 He was familiar with the route over which, in 
 former times, the hostile Indians were accus- 
 tomed to lead their captives taken from the 
 frontier settlements, and seemed to have made 
 up his mind that Wnnie was being taken there 
 to be sold to the French, as the captives had 
 been during, the Indian wars, not realizing that 
 that state of things no longer existed since 
 Canada had come under the power of Great 
 Britain. 
 
 He now pushed forward more directly and 
 rapidly, at long distances finding traces, as he 
 supposed, of the trail of the fugitive. In this 
 
THE SEARCH. 155 
 
 way, by nightfall they had passed beyond the 
 easterly point of the lake. There, at sunset, they 
 encamped for the night. At that hour the sky 
 in the west was overcast, and at midnight a 
 heavy rain set in, which continued till long after 
 daylight. By an ingenuity which only those 
 used to forest life are accustomed to, these two 
 had provided against the threatened tempest, 
 and having gone nearly supperless to bed, were 
 compelled to find means to meet the demands of 
 hunger in the morning. To one unused to the 
 dripping forest after a pouring rain, the prospect 
 of a fire and a breakfast would have been gloomy, 
 especially as it was a day prior to the advent of 
 friction matches and canned meats. 
 
 However, leaving Caleb to provide a fire, Cata- 
 mount, with bow and arrows which he always 
 carried, as well as his gun, set off for game. 
 Caleb was not long in finding the trunk of a 
 fallen tree which had lived out its time and fal- 
 len from age. The trunk, at the butt, was hol- 
 low, and the inside dry. Drawing the charge 
 carefully from his silver-mounted gun, he flashed 
 the powder in the pan against some light, dry 
 rubbish he had gathered inside the trunk of the 
 
156 THE SEARCH. 
 
 tree, and easily started a fire in the hollow ; and 
 thus the trunk itself was both fireplace and fuel. 
 Pine cones and pine branches were easily gath- 
 ered to increase the blaze, and when Catamount 
 returned with two rabbits and a partridge, their 
 feast was assured. Before this was finished the 
 clouds had broken away and the sun shot his 
 cheering rays into the high arches of the primi- 
 tive forest. 
 
 It is useless to follow the course of these two 
 in their search for the loved one. The reader is 
 already aware of the destination of the abductors. 
 Before they had passed beyond the eastern bay 
 of the lake, they turned sharp off from the course 
 they had pursued, and, following down a narrow 
 ravine, made their way to the shore of the lake, 
 where a boat was concealed in readiness for their 
 use. 
 
 How the abductors knew just the course to 
 take to come upon the lake where the boat was 
 concealed, cannot be accounted for, unless Deer- 
 foot himself, unseen by Winnie, directed them 
 on their route in person. 
 
 It was a relief to her on reaching the island 
 in the lake, to find one of her own sex, though 
 
THE SEARCH. 157 
 
 old and repugnant. But, aside from this, she 
 found little comfort or consolation in her pres- 
 ence. She begged of her to know why she had 
 been brought there, but the old woman only 
 shook her head, with a wicked twinkle in her 
 sharp, sunken eye, and said nothing. 
 
 The place of concealment was well chosen. 
 The island was the interior of a cluster of 
 islands, some of them much larger. It rose 
 abruptly from the water, precipitous, apparently, 
 on all sides, and thickly covered all round the 
 margin with shrubs and stunted spruce and hem- 
 lock-trees, while the centre was in places only a 
 bare rock with thin patches of grass and a few 
 stunted oak and ash-trees that had " cast anchor 
 in the rifted rocks." 
 
 Precipitous as the island at first sight ap- 
 peared, there were several places in the ledgy 
 wall of rocks by which the summit of it could be 
 reached. 
 
 The place of shelter or residence for those 
 upon the island was planned and constructed 
 with much art, and not wholly devoid of taste. 
 In fact there were several small structures. One 
 served as kitchen, another as store-house, and 
 
158 THE SEARCH. 
 
 the main structure was for shelter, with several 
 apartments, or divisions. All were constructed 
 with poles and bark and branches of trees 
 brought to the island, which furnished no such 
 material. 
 
 The view was limited to the islands around it, 
 with the exception of the peaks of the distant 
 mountains. Red, White Face, and one or two 
 others, could be distinctly seen. The apartment 
 occupied by Winnie opened to the west, and to 
 shield it from the pouring rays of the hot August 
 sun, a sort of canopy formed of the bark of the 
 white, or canoe-birch, was hung over the en- 
 trance. There were no means of lighting the 
 room when the door was closed, save from a small 
 aperture in the entrance-way. This, however, 
 could be fastened on the inside by the occupant, 
 which Winnie felt was a great security. But 
 why was she taken from her home and thus se- 
 creted ? was a question constantly in her mind, 
 and one that weighed heavily upon her heart. 
 
 Was the meeting by the brookside with the 
 comely stranger, which had awakened such sweet 
 dreams of love and future happiness, to be to 
 her only a mockery for all future life ? Did he 
 
THE SEARCH. 159 
 
 but know of her abduction, she believed he would 
 come to her rescue, but, alas ! he was far away 
 over the sea, and when he should return to the 
 loved spot by the murmuring brook and find her 
 long, long gone, no one knowing whither, what 
 would he do ? and what, then, would be her fate ? 
 
 The day passed, and so, likewise, did the night, 
 in perfect peace. Her meals, consisting of 
 choice dishes of fish, game, and bread in abun- 
 dance, were brought by the old woman who was 
 strangely reticent, but attentive and respectful, 
 treating her as she might a princess or some one 
 of equal rank. To this, however, Winnie had 
 been accustomed always, and so accepted the 
 favor shown her without embarrassment. 
 
 And so the days passed until almost a week 
 had worn away, when, one day, she overheard 
 voices outside ; some one was speaking in a tone 
 of command, which caused Winnie's heart to 
 sink with fear. The look the old woman had 
 returned to her first question was vivid in her 
 mind now. Presently she entered the apartment 
 and crouched down beside the door. Pale with 
 fright, Winnie asked, with alarm, 
 
 " Who ! What is it ? What is the matter ? " 
 
I6O THE SEARCH. 
 
 " We are found out/' whined the miserable old 
 creature. " Somebody's come, and they will kill 
 us 'cause we've got you here." 
 
 The heart of the young girl gave a great bound 
 at this. Some one approached. The old woman 
 clutched her dress as she started to meet her 
 deliverers. 
 
 " Oh ! help me save me ! " she cried. 
 
 "Fear not," said Winnie, "you shall not be 
 hurt." 
 
 At that instant Deerfoot strode to the en- 
 trance of her apartment. 
 
 " I have succeeded at last," he exclaimed, re- 
 moving his hat, and bowing low. " Young lady, 
 I had met you but once, but when I learned that 
 that base wretch, Dugan, out of spite to him you 
 call father, had planned and executed your ab- 
 duction, I determined not to eat or sleep till I 
 had rescued you, and my long search has at last 
 been crowned with success." 
 
 " O, sir ! how can I be sufficiently grateful to 
 you?" 
 
 " The satisfaction of my success, and the hap- 
 piness I see it gives you, are abundant compen- 
 sation for all I have done. I could do no less. 
 
THE SEARCH. l6l 
 
 My heart would have sustained me, had the 
 search for you been tenfold more arduous and 
 lasting." 
 
 " Are any of my friends with you ? " 
 
 " No. The infamous Dugan has them all im- 
 prisoned. You and I alone can rescue them." 
 
 " Oh ! help me to fly to them at once. Oh ! 
 my poor, heart-broken mother. She will die. 
 Take me to her before it is too late." 
 
 " Calm your anxiety for her. She is safe, and 
 composed, for she knows, if alive, I should rescue 
 you." 
 
 " Let us leave here this instant, that I may go 
 to her." 
 
 " Had I the strength to-day, it should be done, 
 but my long anxiety, fasting, and almost sleep- 
 lessness, have taxed my powers to the utmost. 
 Will you grant me a day to rest ? " 
 
 " Most ungrateful in me it would be did I not," 
 said Winnie earnestly and heartily. 
 
 "As for you, old woman," said Deerfoot, turn- 
 ing to the cowering form, " get you gone from 
 this presence, and don't let your shadow fall 
 here only as you are ordered. If you have the 
 means, provide me, and the man who accompa- 
 
l62 THE SEARCH. 
 
 nies me, with the best your store affords/' he 
 commanded. 
 
 Upon this the old creature hurried off, but 
 there was no look of terror or alarm on her with- 
 ered face, which impressed Winnie as being 
 somewhat strange, for his manner and tone were 
 tragically fierce and severe. 
 
 It was not until the middle of the afternoon 
 of the next day that Deerfoot again approached 
 Winnie's apartment, when he saluted her with 
 the same profound respect as the day before. 
 
 " I hope you find yourself recovered," was her 
 reply, with a hopeful, happy look and tone. 
 
 " Very greatly improved, but suffering still the 
 effects of my long-continued efforts for your re- 
 covery. But that is of no account a mere 
 trifle compared to the satisfaction of serving 
 you." 
 
 " Oh ! you must not think so lightly of your 
 own life and comfort." 
 
 " It will be the sweetest comfort- of my life 
 that I can serve you, and minister to your hap- 
 piness." 
 
 "I ought to be the most grateful of beings 
 on the earth, for $uch kindness." 
 
THE SEARCH. 1 63 
 
 " Oh ! that I could have the privilege of 
 spending my whole life in your service. I have 
 wealth almost untold. This purse, though 
 crammed with gold, is but a bauble to me. It 
 is yours, and all I have I lay at your feet." 
 Saying this, he tossed the heavy purse to the 
 lap of Winnie. 
 
 " Oh ! pardon me/' she exclaimed ; " I can- 
 not receive it I cannot ! Please take it back ! " 
 
 " Fling it into the lake, then," said Deerfoot, 
 a look of displeasure flitting over his really at- 
 tractive face. " I have parted with it, will not 
 your gratitude induce you to do me so small a 
 favor as to receive it ? " 
 
 " I certainly am not ungrateful, and if that is 
 your view of my act I will accept it for your 
 sake." 
 
 " You make me happy in so doing. I have 
 much to say to you, but will take my leave of 
 you now." 
 
 " Shall we not leave here in the morning ? I 
 am so anxious to return to my once happy home." 
 
 " Were it safe and prudent, I would fly with 
 you thither to-night, but we must await the 
 proper time; I will explain all to-morrow." 
 
164 THE SEARCH. 
 
 But, fair as were the words of Deerfoot, the 
 quick, womanly perception of Winnie convinced 
 her that there was something beneath the sur- 
 face of all this manifestation of devotion and 
 disinterestedness more to be feared than the 
 presence of the old woman, or, perhaps, of 
 Dugan himself. Immediate danger, however, 
 she had no fear of, and to calm the beating of 
 her disturbed heart, and gather strength from 
 communion with Heaven beneath the stars, 
 she went to a place on the brink of the island 
 where she had the day before found a grateful 
 seat. 
 
 The sighing of the gentle night breeze through 
 the firs, and the soft splash of the ripples on the 
 lake around the rocky base of the island, kept 
 her there long after the last trace of daylight 
 had faded from the western sky. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 WHO can imagine the increasing agony 
 that gathered in the heart of the 
 mother, and of those who kept up the search for 
 their beloved ? Catamount and Caleb had given 
 up the pursuit towards the confines of Canada, 
 and had made the circle of the lake in the most 
 faithful, careful search. 
 
 At the end of the fifth day of Winnie's ab- 
 sence, Caleb returned for the second time to the 
 cabin to console his mother, and with the pos- 
 sible hope of getting some tidings of the lost, 
 and, if not, of proceeding again to Portsmouth 
 to ascertain if she had not been heard of there. 
 
 Left to himself, Catamount, upon whom the 
 long effort had had a visible effect, still prose- 
 cuted the search. He had more than once 
 ascended the heights that overlooked the lake, 
 but to no purpose. He had not gone to the 
 summit of Red Mountain, though he had trav- 
 165 
 
166 THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 ersed the vicinity of it. But, faint and weary^ 
 he had climbed during that afternoon to its top- 
 most height, and set himself down in the shelter 
 of a shrub that protected him from the heat of 
 the sun. 
 
 He sat there for a long time, for he needed 
 rest. And as he sat facing the beautiful Winni- 
 pesockee, spread out to his unobstructed view, 
 he ran his still keen eye over its gleaming sur- 
 face from island to island, when something 
 caused a sudden change to come over his fea- 
 tures. In an instant, from a despondent, hope- 
 less, and wearied look, an expression of intense, 
 eager surprise shot from his eye, and every fea- 
 ture manifested an almost startling eagerness 
 as if his whole soul were concentrated in that 
 gaze. The next moment he sprang to his feet. 
 The vigor and elasticity of youth seemed at 
 once to have returned to him. With a bound, 
 he shot from that lofty observatory and was lost 
 in the thick forests that grew at a distance 
 below the summit. 
 
 It was not long before a birchen canoe was 
 skimming the lake like a bird in its flight, but 
 the object for which it aimed was miles distant. 
 
THE DISCOVERY. l6/ 
 
 The last rays of the setting sun had already shot 
 up from the west, and the darkness of night 
 settled down over the broad expanse of water, 
 and yet that little craft, apparently but an egg- 
 shell on its surface, swept with unflagging speed 
 on its way. Winnie had just arisen, to return 
 to her apartment, when an object on the surface 
 of the lake, almost at her feet, attracted her 
 attention. The quick, eager eye of Catamount 
 caught sight of her. 
 
 " Forest Flower ! " in a voice like the ripple 
 on the water, or the sigh of the night wind in 
 the firs, came distinctly to her ear. Another, 
 although by her side, would not have heard it. 
 She was almost ready to leap to the water below 
 to make sure of escape, but that was not neces- 
 sary. The strong arm of Catamount led her 
 gently and safely down a steep, narrow passage 
 in the rocky side of the island, and lifted her 
 into the canoe, which, in another moment, shot 
 away as it had come as noiseless as a bird upon 
 the wing and Winnie, the deeply-loved Forest 
 Flower, was saved ! 
 
 Landing not far from the northwestern base 
 of the height, now known as Mt. Belknap, the 
 
1 68 THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 Indian took her safely down the steep mountain 
 wall to his wigwam just as the daylight broke 
 in the east. 
 
 Leaving her there to rest in peace and safety, 
 he hurried down the Suncook, and shortly after 
 the sun arose, he heard, clear and distinct, the 
 note that told him that Caleb had returned to 
 the cabin, and was searching for him. They 
 hastened toward each other Caleb to know if 
 any tidings or trace of Winnie had been discov- 
 ered, and Catamount to tell the story of her dis- 
 covery and rescue. 
 
 Hurrying back to the wigwam they found her 
 still asleep, but the joy of Caleb could not be 
 restrained. As she arose he held her in his 
 arms in a loving embrace ; as he released her, 
 something in the bosom of her dress attracted * 
 her attention. She hastily drew it forth, and as 
 the purse which Deerfoot had forced upon her, 
 met her sight, she cast it, as if it had been a 
 viper, upon the ground. 
 
 Though heavy, it had lain where she had 
 placed it, to please him, and the excitement of 
 the escape had caused it to be forgotten and 
 unnoticed. Caleb took it up, and as he examined 
 
THE DISCOVERY. 169 
 
 its contents, exclaimed : " Why, sister Winnie, 
 you're rich's a king. This ere's all gold money. 
 What makes ye throw't 'way that way ? " 
 
 " For the scorn I feel for him who compelled 
 me to receive it," she replied indignantly. 
 
 After a little further talk Winnie was eager to 
 return to the cabin to receive the embrace and 
 blessing of her mother, but as they were pre- 
 paring to do so, Caleb stopped short. 
 
 " Look a-here, Winnie dear, 'twon't du fer ye 
 tu go home, cuz them fellers wot carried ye off 
 afore '11 be arter ye ag'in." 
 
 " Words of Wudgee " meaning Caleb 
 "very wise," said Catamount. 
 
 " Stay here, Winnie ; nobody'll find ye here, 
 and we'll tell mother ; and's long's ye're safe, 
 she'll be happy. I'll take this here puss o' gold 
 tu Mr. Williams and tell him how ye come by it. 
 He wanted me tu bring anything we might find 
 round the cabin, and he may have a use for this 
 here, tu. If them villains come tu the cabin 
 ag'in, and don't find ye, p'raps they'll think ye've 
 jumped intu the lake ; so we'll tell ma'am tu say 
 ye hain't come home, ye know." 
 
 Caleb showed shrewdness and forethought in 
 
I/O THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 all this, and it proved of grave importance in 
 the end. 
 
 "Catamount," said Caleb, as they were both 
 about to leave the wigwam, " you need rest ; 
 you stay here with Winnie till I come back. 
 You 'nd she nuther hain't eat nothin' to-day ; 
 you build a fire 'nd she'll du the cookin', won't 
 ye, Winnie ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; yes, Catamount, stay with me 
 here, and rest, or you'll die of fatigue and 
 hunger." 
 
 "Words of Forest Flower good," said the 
 Indian, and he let Caleb depart without him. It 
 was well he did, for the tension upon his physi- 
 cal and mental endurance had been great. With 
 difficulty he obtained the means of supplying 
 the food for the meal that both he and Winnie 
 needed. He started the fire, and she prepared 
 the food and cooked it. She was hungry, and 
 ate heartily, but to her surprise and alarm, Cata- 
 mount could eat but little. 
 
 He then arranged the mats of fur skins for 
 his couch, and lay down and slept soundly till it 
 began to grow dark, when Winnie awoke him 
 and set food that she had carefully prepared, be- 
 
THE DISCOVERY. I/I 
 
 fore him. But he barely tasted it, and lay down 
 again. In the morning he was still sleeping 
 heavily, and Winnie attempted to arouse him, 
 but was unsuccessful. She became alarmed, 
 yet knew not what to do. 
 
 A little before sunset Caleb returned. On 
 learning the condition of Catamount he at- 
 tempted to arouse him, and succeeded in par- 
 tially doing so. He languidly opened his eyes. 
 Winnie too was by his side. " Smile of the Great 
 Spirit," he said, in his low, and not unmusical 
 voice, as he looked into her sweet face. 
 
 " Catamount come to the end of the trail here. 
 He go now on the long trail to the happy hunt- 
 ing-grounds. He know the way; he hear the 
 words of Great Spirit from the lips of Forest 
 Flower. All light now." 
 
 " O Catamount ! " said Caleb, in an anguish of 
 spirit, "you must not die. Oh! do get well, 
 won't ye? " 
 
 " Happy," was the last word that he spoke, as 
 a placid expression succeeded to one of pain, and 
 the spirit of the last Penacook had passed from 
 the land of his fathers. 
 
 The sorrow of the two young people as the 
 
1/2 THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 full consciousness of the truth that he was really 
 dead, came upon them, was deep, and their tears 
 flowed freely as they recounted his many, many 
 deeds of love to them, and especially of the last, 
 which resulted in the rescue of Winnie, the effort 
 to accomplish which had doubtless been the im- 
 mediate cause of his death. But he had died 
 happy, with the two he loved near him, and 
 happy that the lost had been found and rescued. 
 At some distance from his wigwam an im- 
 mense granite bowlder lay, mostly on the surface 
 of the ground. Here Caleb prepared a grave, 
 and the two placed the body of Catamount in it, 
 with his bow and quiver of arrows by his side, 
 and with the skins of his wigwam around him. 
 Then covering him deeply in the ground, they 
 left him to his rest. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE TRIAL. 
 
 IT had been arranged with the king's attorney, 
 that Winnie should go with Caleb to the 
 settlement at Epsom, and abide in the Lock 
 family until such time as she should be wanted 
 in the court which was to be held for the prelim- 
 inary examination of the case against the crimi- 
 nals prior to their full commitment to await the 
 setting of the Superior Court. This was antici- 
 pated to be but a short affair, as the evidence 
 against those charged with the crime was so clear 
 and positive. The only cause of delay, so far as 
 everybody but the king's attorney and a few 
 others knew, was the absence of the judge before 
 whom the case was to be examined ; but the real 
 cause was far otherwise. 
 
 When everything was prepared, the witnesses 
 
 were summoned, and the parties brought into 
 
 court. The owners of the watch, jewels and 
 
 other things found at the cabin, identified them, 
 
 173 
 
1/4 THE TRIAL. 
 
 and Dugan and the officer, and one or two others, 
 testified to these having been found in the cabin 
 of Than Clifford. Dugan was very circumstan- 
 tial in giving his testimony, being particular to 
 say the watch and other things had been con- 
 cealed by Clifford, whom he called the principal 
 criminal a great villain, and scoundrel, and the 
 like. 
 
 Dugan was the last witness to testify against 
 Clifford and Jim. The court room was crowded, 
 and prominent among the listeners and specta- 
 tors, was Deerfoot. After Dugan had finished, 
 there was a pause. The king's attorney seemed 
 to hesitate. 
 
 "Mr. Attorney, are you through?" asked the 
 judge. " Have you any more witnesses ? " 
 
 "I have one more," he replied. There was a 
 stir in the crowd. The sheriff of the province 
 and the marshal both came forward, each with 
 an attendant. As by accident, the sheriff stood 
 beside Deerfoot, and the marshal beside Dugan. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Attorney," said the judge, "pro- 
 ceed." 
 
 Instantly the sheriff put his hand upon Deer- 
 foot. 
 
THE TRIAL. 1/5 
 
 " You are my prisoner," said he, and before 
 Deerfoot fully understood what was being said 
 to him, he was in irons, while the marshal had 
 performed the same office upon Dugan. At the 
 same time, Dugan's servant, who had been en- 
 gaged with him in finding the stolen property at 
 the cabin, was brought in, also manacled. 
 
 "This is the witness/' said the attorney, "I 
 next call." 
 
 It had been a bold stroke on the part of the 
 king's attorney, but he was confident this ser- 
 vant could be frightened into turning state's 
 evidence. He had been summoned as a witness, 
 then called out without the knowledge of Dugan, 
 and arrested and charged with having himself 
 carried the stolen property to Clifford's cabin. 
 He was told that if he would tell the truth in the 
 transaction he should be unharmed. He at once 
 made confession, and was now brought into 
 court. 
 
 The attorney ordered the irons removed, and 
 after the oath was administered, said to him, 
 "You are at liberty to take your own course." 
 
 " Have you ever seen this watch before ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
THE TRIAL. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "At Than Clifford's cabin.'' 
 
 " Do you know how it came there ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "I carried it there." 
 
 " How came you by it ? " 
 
 "Dugan handed it to me." 
 
 " What did he say when he gave it to you ? " 
 
 " I'm going to lay a trap for that villain, Than 
 Clifford, and pay off the grudge I've had against 
 him so long." 
 
 " Do you know where he got it ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 During the examination Dugan trembled like 
 a leaf. There seemed nothing to criminate 
 Deerfoot, and he very coolly asked why it was 
 he was under arrest. 
 
 "Can you account for the manner in which 
 that purse came to your hands?" asked the 
 attorney, holding up the one he had given Win- 
 nie, and which she had cast from her so scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 " I know nothing about it whatever," he re- 
 plied. 
 
THE TRIAL. I// 
 
 "Call in the young lady," said the attorney to 
 a constable, and Wentworth Hunking entered, 
 leading Winnie. 
 
 "What is this witness's name?" asked the 
 judge. 
 
 " Winifred Clifford/* answered the attorney. 
 
 " Winifred Longridge," shrieked a woman of 
 strange look and appearance, as, regardless of 
 the court and crowd in attendance, she rushed 
 forward and seized the witness in her arms. 
 "Don't you know your long-lost Lute? I've 
 been studying that man's face," she cried, "now 
 I know him," pointing to Clifford. "Didn't I 
 bring this girl, when a baby, to your cottage on 
 the Jersey shore ? Your own little boy was sick. 
 I am Lute," she continued, " Uncle Zeeb's child, 
 and there stands the man," pointing to Dugan, 
 "that stole me and carried me to the pirate 
 ship." 
 
 "Woman," said the attorney, going to Lute 
 and taking her kindly by the arm, "we are busy 
 with the court just now. You shall see the 
 young lady, and this affair shall be cleared up, 
 but let us proceed with the matter now in hand." 
 She yielded, and stood aside. 
 
1/8 THE TRIAL. 
 
 The appearance of Winnie caused the face of 
 Deerfoot to blanch. She knew too much. He 
 at once saw that his iniquity must come to 
 light. One of Dugan's own servants had con- 
 demned him to the gallows, and others of them, 
 with what Winnie knew, would bring him to the 
 same end. 
 
 Deerfoot had accidentally met Lute, who, 
 after being for years the wife of a rover of the 
 deep, on his death had fallen into the possession 
 of a kind master in Cuba, and from her he had 
 learned the singular story of the death of Mr. 
 Longridge, which had been brought about by 
 the connivance of a relative with a pirate for the 
 purpose of getting possession of his estate ; 
 that the plan was to destroy the life of his child 
 at the same time, but that she had been saved 
 by her ; that the child would have been thrown 
 into the sea, but that Lute threatened if that 
 was done to throw herself in also. 
 
 It was then agreed by the pirates who had 
 taken the life of Mr. Longridge, and had robbed 
 and then burned the ship he had taken passage 
 on, that the child's life should be spared, but 
 that it should be carried on shore and abandoned 
 
THE TRIAL. 1/9 
 
 at the first land they should make, and that, as 
 near as Lute could learn, had been the coast of 
 New Jersey, where the child had been left. In 
 one way and another, by his shrewdness and 
 skill, aided by many fortunate accidents, Deer- 
 foot, who was a most daring, adroit and success- 
 ful villain, had traced out and actually found the 
 lost heiress to the estate of Mr. Longridge, and 
 all he needed was to gain her heart and hand, 
 and Dugan would have found himself beggared 
 by one whom he took to be his only friend. 
 
 The scheme of both one for an estate, and 
 the other for revenge had failed, and their feet 
 had been caught in the net they had set for 
 others. 
 
 Than and Jim were acquitted, and received 
 the hearty congratulations of the great company 
 present, while the real criminals were committed 
 to prison. When told that Jim was her brother, 
 Lute was beside herself with joy. 
 
 Deerfoot was accused of committing murder 
 in Massachusetts, after robbing a man, to escape 
 capture, so a requisition was sent from the au- 
 thorities of that province, and he was delivered 
 up for trial there. He was found guilty, and 
 
I SO THE TRIAL. 
 
 sentenced to be hanged. Dugan, by the aid of 
 some of his accomplices, succeeded in escaping 
 from prison, and years afterward was heard of 
 in one of the West India Islands, leading a life 
 as miserable as the wretch deserved. 
 
 When all these strange developments had con- 
 cluded, and the inmates of the cabin returned in 
 peace to their happy home, the faith of Debby 
 that all things work together for good to them 
 that love God, for they are the called according 
 to the promise was fully sustained. 
 
 The mystery that surrounded the birth of 
 Winnie was made plain, but she did not cease to 
 be their darling child. To Than and Debby she 
 was, and always remained, their loving daughter, 
 even after she, as the wife of Wentworth Hunk- 
 ing, became the mistress of her long-lost patri- 
 mony. The memory of Catamount was cherished 
 by all, and the family mourned sincerely for him 
 to whom they were indebted for so much of the 
 happiness of their after life. 
 
BOOKS FOR BOYS. 
 
 ALL AMONG THE LIGHTHOUSES. By MARY BRADFORD 
 
 CROWNINSHIELD, wife of Commander Crowninshield. Finely illustrated 
 
 from photographs and original drawings. Extra cloth, quarto, $2.50. 
 
 An attractive book for boys, giving the account of an actual trip along the 
 
 coast of Maine by a lighthouse inspector with two wide awake boys in charge. 
 
 The visits ^ to the numerous lighthouses not only teem with incident, but 
 
 abound in information that will interest every one. 
 
 BOYS' HEROES. By EDWARD EVERETT HALE. Reading Union 
 
 Library. i6mo, illustrated, cloth, $1.00, 
 
 Twelve chapters containing the story told in Dr. Hale's characteristic style, 
 of a dozen characters famecl in history as worthy to bear the title of heroes, 
 and the story of whose deeds and lives possesses a special interest for boys. 
 
 PLUCKY BOYS. Business Boys' Library. By the author of " John 
 
 Halifax, Gentleman," and other authors. $1.00. 
 
 " A pound of pluck is worth a ton of luck. " President Garfield. Spirited 
 narratives of boys who have conquered obstacles and become successful busi- 
 ness men ; or of other young fellows who have shown fearlessness and " fight " 
 in situations of danger. 
 
 A BOY'S WORKSHOP. By A BOY AND His FRIENDS, gx.oo. 
 
 Just the book for boys taking their first lesson in the use of tools. All sorts 
 of practical suggestions and sound advice, with valuable illustrations fill the 
 volume. 
 
 BOY LIFE IN THE UNITED STATES NAVY. By H. H. 
 
 CLARK. i2mo, illustrated, $1.50. 
 
 If there is anything in the way of human attire which more than any other 
 commands the admiration and stirs the enthusiasm of the average boy of what- 
 ever nation, it is the trim uniform and shining buttons that distinguish the 
 jolly lads of the " Navy." In this graphically written and wonderfully enter- 
 taining volume, boy life in the Navy of the United States is described by a 
 naval officer, in a manner which cannot fail to satisfy the boys. 
 
 HOW SUCCESS IS WON. By MRS. SARAH K. BOLTON. $1.00. 
 This is the best of the recent books of this popular class of biography ; all 
 its "^successful^ men " are Americans, and with two or three exceptions they 
 are living and in the full tide of business and power. In each case, the facts 
 have been furnished to the author by the subject of the biography, or by fam- 
 ily friends; and Mrs. Bolton has chosen from this authentic material those 
 incidents which most fully illustrate the successive steps and the ruling princi- 
 ples, by which success has been gained. A portrait accompanies each biog- 
 raphy. 
 
 STORIES OP DANGER AND ADVENTURE. By ROSE G. 
 KiN'GSLEV, B. P. SHILLABER, FREDERIC SCHWATKA and others. $1.25. 
 _ Fascinating stories of thrilling incidents in all sorts of places and with all 
 kinds of people. Very fully illustrated. 
 
 WONDER STORIES OF TRAVEL. By ELIOT McCoRMicic, 
 ERNEST INC;ERSOLL, E. E. BROWN, DAVID KER and others. Fully illus- 
 trated. $1.50. 
 
BOOKS FOR THE BOYS AND GIRLS 
 AND THE LITTLE FOLKS. 
 
 BYE-O-BABY BALLADS. In beautiful binding of colors and gold, 
 
 $2.00. 
 
 The little folks have in this superb "color book" a volume as perfect in 
 taste as the costly adult gift books of this and previous years. The ballads, 
 by CHARLES STUART PRATT (editor of WIDE AWAKE and BABYLAND), are 
 for children, not simply about them, and, between the songs of good-morning 
 and good-night cover the range of a child's day and a child's year. The pict- 
 ures, by F. Childe Hassam, the popular water color painter, include many 
 charming full-pages and hundreds smaller, reproduced in exquisite colors by 
 the eminent art lithographers, G. H. Buck & Co. Withal, the book is dis- 
 tinctively modern and American. 
 IN NO-MAN'S LAND. Wonder Stories, Vol. I. By E. S. BROOKE 
 
 72 drawings by Hassam. $1.25. 
 
 The adventures of little wide awake American Ruthie really rival these of 
 the famous Alice ; the pages sparkle with transformation scenes, pageants, 
 tableaux and astonishments. The wittiest child's book ever published. 
 THE BTDBBLING- TEAPOT. Wonder Stories, Vol. II. By MRS. 
 
 LIZZIE W. CHAMPNEY. 12 page drawings by Walter Satterlee. $1.25. 
 
 Records of the twelve magic journeys ard the twelve lives of pretty Flossy 
 Tangleskein. Full of charming incident, with a sweet little lesson of happi- 
 ness at the very end. Sure to be a perennial favorite. 
 MY LAND AND WATER FRIENDS. By MARY E. BAMFORD. 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 The most novel and entertaining of outdoor books, giving delicious little 
 autobiographic accounts of strange and familiar creatures, their ways of life 
 and possible ways of thinking and talking, together with nearly two' hundred 
 original drawings by L. J. Bridgman, accurate enough for a scientific work, 
 yet not lacking in fancy and quaint touches. 
 THE CATS' ARABIAN JSTIGHTS. By ABBY MORTON DIAZ. 
 
 $1.25. 
 
 Here is a story to delight the heart of childhood. It tells how the kitten 
 Pussyanita beguiled the cruel King Grimalkum from taking her life by telling 
 him funny stories, until the king became so fond of hearing them that he an- 
 nulled the sentence he had pronounced against white and yellow cats. The 
 book is profusely illustrated, and is altogether funny and unique. With a new 
 and beautiful double lithograph cover. 
 OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN, 1886. Quarto, illuminated 
 
 cover, $1.50; cloth, $2.00. 
 
 A notable feature of this attractive annual is the large number of full-page 
 
 Eictures, seventy-four in all, two printed in colors, in addition to nearly two 
 undred smaller illustrations. The text is designed for the delight and infor- 
 mation of youngest readers. 
 BABYLAND, '86, Boards, 75 cents ; cloth, $1.00. 
 
 This beautiful annual for the nursery is radiant with pictures of bonny baby- 
 life. Its bewitching little stories, its merry jingles and charming pictures 
 make it a never-ceasing delight. 
 
 LITTLE FOLKS' ART BOOK. Double lithograph covers in nine 
 colors by H. Bencke. $1.00. 
 
 Pen-and-ink drawings prepared for the children by George Foster Barnes, 
 M. J. Sweeney, W. P. Bodfish and J. E. Francis. The delight of the nur- 
 sery and the drawing-room ; while the designs tempt the little people to copy 
 them, thus inciting to early practice with pencils and crayons, the wit of the 
 conceptions certainly amuse and greatly entertain the older members of the 
 family. L- - 
 
MARGARET SIDNEY'S BOOKS. 
 
 That " Child Classic," FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND EOW 
 
 THEY GREW, conies out in a new, charming edition. 1.50, 
 The perfect reproduction of child life in its minutest phases catches one's 
 attention at once. Christian Advocate. 
 
 SO AS BY FIRE. $1.25. 
 
 We have followed with intense interest the story of David Folsom. 
 Woman at Work. 
 
 THE PETTIBONE NAME. $1.25. 
 
 This is a capital story illustrating New England life. Inter-Ocean t Chi- 
 cago. 
 
 The characters of the story seem to be studies from life. Boston Post. 
 
 HALF YEAR AT BRONCKTON. $1.25. 
 
 A lively boy writes, " This is about the best book that ever was written or 
 ever can be." 
 
 HOW THEY WENT TO EUROPE. t6mo, illustrated. 
 
 The plan of the book resembles, in some respects, that of "A Voyage 
 Around my Room." It is certainly bright. N. Y. Independent. 
 
 THE GOLDEN WEST. Extra cloth, $2.25 ; boards, $1.75. 
 
 The best travel book for children. It combines fun with instruction in the 
 right proportions. The pictures of the States west of the Mississippi and 
 along the sunny Pacific slopes, are full of graphic coloring. 
 
 WHO TOLD IT TO ME? $1.25. 
 
 A most stirring story of school life in New England. The characters make 
 their mark in the war for the Union. It is such a book as you would expect 
 from Margaret Sidney. 
 
 WHAT THE SEVEN DID. Boards, $1.75; extra cloth, $2.25. 
 
 A royal gift book for children. They read it again and again, and, best of 
 all, they practice it. Many Wordsworth Clubs are doing deeds of charity ac- 
 cording to the model in this book. 
 
 A NEW DEPARTURE FOR GIRLS. 75 cents. 
 
 The most practical, sensible and to-the-point book which has been written 
 for girls within the last fifty years a godsend to the " Helen Harknesses" 
 of our great cities, and small towns as well. That this kindly effort has already 
 reached young women is evident from advertisements already appearing in the 
 " Wanted " columns of the Boston dailies. 
 
 POLLY : Where she lived, what she said and what she 
 
 Did. Quarto, 50 cents. 
 
 With twelve full-page pictures by Margaret Johnson. A story of a funny 
 parrot and two charming children. 
 
 ON EASTER DAY. An illustrated poem. 35 cents. 
 
 THE MINUTE MAN. A ballad of the "shot heard round the world." 
 Illustrated, $1.50. 
 
 HESTER, and other New England Stories. A story for adults. 1.25. 
 
 The character touches are strong and well-defined. It is fresh with New 
 England atmosphere. 
 
 TWO MODERN LITTLE PRINCES, and other Stories for young 
 people. 1.00. 
 Full of exquisite touches of humor and pathos, and cosey home life. 
 
BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 
 
 HOLD UP YOUR HEADS, GIRLS ! By ANNIE H. RYDER. $1.00. 
 One of the brightest, breeziest books for girls ever written ; as sweet and 
 wholesome as the breath of clover on a clear June morning, and as full of life 
 and inspiration as a trumpet call. The writer, a popular teacher, speaks of 
 what she knows, and has put her own magnetism into these little plain, sensi- 
 ble, earnest talks, and the girls will read them and be thrilled by them as by a 
 personal presence. 
 
 A NEW DEPARTURE FOR GIRLS. By MARGARET SIDNEY. 
 
 75 cents. 
 
 In this bright little story, we see what may be really done in the way of self- 
 support by young women of sturdy independence and courage, with no false 
 pride to deter them from taking up the homely work which they are capable 
 of doing. It will give an incentive to many a baffled, discouraged girl who 
 has failed from trying to work in the old ruts. 
 HOW THEY LEARNED HOUSEWORK. By CHRISTINA 
 
 GOODWIN. 75 cents. 
 
 Four merry schoolgirls during vacation time are inducted into the mysteries 
 of chamber-work, cooking, washing, ironing, pntting up preserves and cutting 
 and making underclothes, all under the careful supervision of one of the moth- 
 ers. The whole thing is made attractive for them in a way that is simply cap- 
 tivating, and the story of their experiment is full of interest. 
 A GIRL'S ROOM. With plans and designs for work upstairs and 
 
 down, and entertainments for herself and friends. By SOME FRIENDS OF 
 
 THE GIRLS. $1.00. 
 
 This dainty volume not only shows girls how to make their rooms cosey and 
 attractive at small trouble and expense, but also how to pass a social evening 
 with various games, and to prepare many pretty and useful articles for them- 
 selves and friends. 
 
 CHRISTIE'S CHRISTMAS. By PANSY. i2mo, fully illustrated, 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 Christie is one of those delightfully life-like, naive and interesting charac- 
 ters which no one so well as Pansy can portray, and in the study of which 
 every reader will find delight and profit. 
 
 ANNA MARIA'S HOUSEKEEPING. By MRS. S. D. POWER. 
 
 i6mo, extra cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Articles on household matters, written in a clear, fascinating style out of 
 the experience of a writer who knows whereof she speaks. Every girl and 
 young housekeeper should own a copy. 
 
 BRAVE GIRLS. By MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD, NORA PERRY, 
 
 MRS. JOHN SHERWOOD and others. $1.50. 
 
 Here are deeds of stirring adventure and peril, and quiet heroism no less 
 brave, to incite girls to be faithful and fearless, strong and true to the right. 
 
 NEW EVERY MORNING: Selections of Reading's for 
 
 Girls. By ANNIE H. RY^ER. $1.00. 
 
 This is just such a book as one would expect from the popular author of 
 " Hold up your Heads, Girls ! " and will be no less a favorite The selections 
 are all choice and apprporiate, and will be eagerly read each morning by the 
 happy owners. 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 FARMING FOR BOYS. What they have done, and what 
 others may do in the cultivation of farm and garden. 
 How to begin, how to proceed, and what to aim at. By the 
 author of Ten Acres Enough. Illustrated. Boston : D. 
 Lothrop & Co. Price $1.25. This excellent work, from 
 the pen of the author of Ten Acres Enough, will he warmly 
 welcomed by boys who delight in country work as well as 
 by parents who would like to see their sons settle down to 
 good honest labor on the old homestead or on farms of their 
 own. The author endeavors to convince boys who are living 
 in the country that their future prosperity and happi- 
 ness will be best promoted by remaining where they are 
 instead of flocking to the city, where work is harder and 
 prospects more uncertain. He shows them the advantages 
 of farm life, its healthfulness, its freedom from temptation, 
 and the sure reward it brings to intelligently directed 
 industry. He appeals to fathers who have boys old enough 
 to do farm work to arouse an interest in them, by giving 
 them gardens or patches of their own to work on from which 
 they can realize some personal benefit. He sa? s truly that 
 the children of too many farmers have been kept as mere 
 drudges, with no pains taken to encourage their individual 
 enterprise by showing them how to make something for 
 themselves. 'Farmers' boys understand early that the mak- 
 ing of their fortunes rests with themselves. If they have 
 nothing of personal interest to hold them to their homes 
 beyond the natural home affections, it is hard to keep them 
 there. If parents would afford them some little opportunity 
 to begin to lay up something early, they would soon find 
 farm life as attractive as the dreams of city life. The book is 
 in the form of a story, and will be read by those for whom 
 it is intended with delight and profit. 
 
 LITTLE FOLKS' EVERYDAY BOOK. Edited by Amanda 
 B. Harris. Boston : D. Lothrop & Co. Price $1.00. This 
 little volume prepared upon the plan of the birthday books 
 which are so popular nowadays, is destined to win merit and 
 good favor wherever it goes. Not only will the "little 
 folks," for whom it was specially designed, find pleasure in 
 turning its leaves, but the. older members of the family as 
 well, for the lines are from pens highly prized. It contains 
 a picture, a verse and a blank for every day of the year, 
 together with twelve full-page pictures in color, representing 
 the various months of the year, designed by G. F. Barnes. 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE ONLY WAY OUT. By Mrs. Jennie Fowler Wiki/ig. 
 Illustrated. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. Price $1.50. Tin 
 rather enigmatical title of the handsome volume before us 
 is fully explained in the closing chapter of the story. The 
 author endeavors to show that there is but one sure way 
 out of the darkness into which we are plunged by earthly 
 crosses and trials, and that is an earnest faith in ana reiJ 
 ance upon Christ. The lesson sought to be conveyed i 1 
 mainly through the experience of Joseph Graydon, a bright 
 generous-hearted young merchant, who is cursed with an 
 appetite for liquor so strong that when temptation comes he 
 lias no power to resist it. Pledges, promises and resolutions 
 made in his sober moments avail nothing when attacked by 
 the terrible desire for drink. In all his struggles with the 
 habit which is steadily working his ruin, he seeks no help 
 outside of himself, depending only upon his own strength <>f 
 will to overcome the tempter. He falls at last, a victim to 
 his weakness and blindness in refusing to look for aid 
 whence all aid comes. Says one of the characters in com- 
 menting upon his fate *' They may talk as they wilt, it 
 takes a solid basis of rocky conviction to hold one to tins 
 work of mastering the evil that is rampant in the world. 
 You may pile up figures and facts, pathos and argument, 
 but unless God touches the conscience you can't depend 
 upon a man for a steady pull through the breakers. Ail re*d 
 reformatory power is vested in the Lord Jesus Christ.'* 
 
 So AS BY FIRE. By Margaret Sidney. III. Boston : D. 
 Lothrop <fe Co. Price $1.25. Anything from the author of 
 "Five Little Peppers" will be read with ^aiiemess and with 
 the certainty beforehand that it will be well worth reading. 
 So as by Fire is a story full of earnest purpose. The lesson 
 it teaches is that it, is only through great, sorrow and tribula- 
 tion that, some souls are purified; that the trials and v< xa- 
 tior.s and disappointments of this world, if rightly accepted 
 and turned to use, make clean the heart " as by fire." To 
 impress this fact strongly upon the mind of tl*e Kroer is 
 the constant aim of the author. It is not a child's l.o<-k, 
 although some of the more entertaining characters iii its 
 p^ges are children. Its purpose is to strengthen ihnK \\li<j 
 are bowed down by trouble, and to inspire them with 
 la tke final reward of eons taut well doing. 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE MOTHER'S RECOKD of the Physical, Mental and 
 Moral growth of her Child for the first Fifteen Years. 
 Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. Price $1.00. This work is aa 
 valuable as it is unique. It is not intended for the recording 
 of minute matters connected with the health or illnesses of 
 the child, but is a simple form of record of those more inter- 
 esting and entertaining items about the child that, as the 
 writer herself says in her preface, most mothers determine 
 at the birth of the child to set down for future reference. 
 It is the first tooth, the first word uttered, the schools at- 
 tended, the characteristic traits, the mischievous acts, the 
 journeys and visits, the accomplishments and prejudices, 
 the habits, and in short, every thing connected with the 
 subject that a fond mother would like to remember or to 
 have her child remember in after years. The writer begins 
 with a reference to Dr. Preyer's work on " Psychogenesis," 
 which she considerately defines to be the " development of 
 the soul," and speaks of the reference in Shakespeare's 
 Cymbtline to the subject of "heredity," but we assure our 
 readers that, she drops all big words there and leaves the 
 rest of tlie beautiful volume as easy reading as they would 
 wish. When the blanks in such a book have been filled out, 
 it is a record of wonderful iniere-t. 
 
 THE HAKIJISVILLE YOUNG LADIES' BAND. Mrs. TTarry 
 Harper's Awakening. By Pansy. 111. Boston : D. Lothrop 
 & Co. Price $ .15 Two of Pansy's brightest, and most 
 telling sketches, and practical as they are bright. Pansy 
 never writes without a special end in view, and some of 
 her short stories have achieved results where the most 
 powerful sermons would have failed. The first of these 
 sketches touches upon missions and mission work, and 
 shows how neople with time hanging upon their hands 
 may busy themselves to their own and others' profit. The 
 second story deals with the same general subject of missions, 
 but in another way, and is intended to illustrate how much 
 may be accomplished by a few \vhen backed by determined 
 effort. 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 SINNER AND SAINT : A story of the Woman's Crusade j 
 by A.A.Hopkins, author of "John Breinm: His Prison 
 Bars," etc. Boston : D, Lothrop & Co. Price $1.25. This 
 is a notable addition to temperance literature and combines, 
 in style and treatment, some of the strongest charac* 
 teristics of that unique temperance narrative, with 
 salient features peculiar to itself. It is both a live, 
 progressive, radical reform story, quite abreast with 
 the temperance thought of to-day, and an intense, 
 absorbing record of heart experiences, reading as if 
 they were all real. In its delineation of scenes md inci- 
 rrents in the Woman's Crusade, it traverses a field rich ir* 
 suggestion, in feeling and in fact, and hitherto ignored by 
 the novelist. The Crusade marked an epoch in temperance 
 activities, and Sinner and Saint vividly reflects the wonder- 
 ful spirit of that movement, while as vividly portraying the 
 strange methods and the remarkable faith that gave it suc- 
 cess. This is a broader, more comprehensive story than its 
 predecessor from the same pen, more abundant in charac- 
 ters, and stronger in the love elements which these contrib- 
 ute. The religious tone of it also, is more decidedly 
 pronounced. Bay Ian (N"ew York 1 ?), Worroin, Ohio, and a 
 Rocky mountain mining camp, form the locali. Of all 
 these Mr. Hopkins writes like one familiar with his ground, 
 as he is confessedly familiar with the different phases of 
 temperance endeavor and need. " To the women who work 
 and pray, for love's dear sake and home's, that fallen 
 manhood may come to its own again," he dedicates his 
 work. It should win the early perusal of all that noble 
 army, and of a wide circle besides of all, indeed, who 
 sympathize with human weakness and admire womanly 
 strength. 
 
 KINGS, QUEENS AND BARBARIANS; or, Talks about 
 Seven Historic Ages. By Arthur Gilman, M.A. New Edi- 
 tion, enlarged. 111. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. Price $1.00. 
 This handsome little volume, prepared for young readers, is 
 a pleasant condensation of the main facts in the world's his- 
 tory from the time of the Golden Age of Greece, which 
 dates back to five hundred years before Christ, down to lha 
 Golden Ace of England, or the time of the Puritans. The 
 information is conveyed in the form of a family dialogue, in 
 which the father entertains his children evening after eve- 
 ning, in a series of talks, taking up in a natural way one 
 subject after another, giving just enough of each to create 
 an appetite among the young listeners to know more about 
 them and to bring the various volumes of history in the fam- 
 ily library into active demand. Young readers will find Ai 
 delightful volume. 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 CHIPS FROM THE WHITE HOUSE. 12 mo. 486 pp. $1.50 
 
 If i uit the press bays of it: 
 
 In this handsome volume of five hundred pages have been 
 Brought together some of the most important utterances of 
 Our twenty presidents, carefully selected from speeches and 
 Addresses, public documents and private correspondence, 
 i A touching upon a large varijty of subjects. Golden. 
 .Rule, Boston. 
 
 ' Most of the extracts are dated and accompanied by brief 
 explanations of the circumstances under which they were 
 written, and the volume, therefore, if judiciously read, will 
 give a clearer idea of the character of the men than can be 
 gathered elsewhere by reading a small library through. 
 New York Graphic. 
 
 The selections are made with judgment and taste, and 
 represent not only the political status of the distinguished 
 writers, but ,lso their social and domestic characteristics. 
 The book is interesting in itself, and specially valuable as 
 a convenient book of reference for students of American 
 history. Its mechanical presentation is all that can be 
 asked. Providence Journal. 
 
 Each chapter is prefaced by a brief synoposis of the life 
 and services of its subject, and most of the extracts are dated, 
 with brief explanations of the circumstances under which 
 they were written. The work, in fact, is a handbook. It 
 is convenient for reference of American history. It is 
 printed in clear, large type, is tastefully and strongly bound, 
 and is supplemented by a very full index. Woman's Jour* 
 nal, Boston. 
 
 The book is thoroughly good ; none better could be 
 placed in the hands of young persons. By the light of 
 theje they can see the reflection of the character of tho 
 grand men who have been called to rule over the Nation 
 during its existence. No other nation ever had such 9 
 Buccsssion of rulers, where so few h ive proved failures. 
 faier Oceav . Chicaao. 
 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE LORD'S PURSEBEARERS. By Hesba Stretton. 
 Boston. D. Lothrop & Co. Price. $1.25. The name of 
 Hesba Stretton is too well known in English literature 
 to render it necessary to make special commendation of 
 any work from her pen. No writer of religious fiction 
 stands higher in England, and there is not a Sunday-school 
 library where some one of her volumes may not be found. 
 She has the faculty of entertaining and instructing at the 
 game time. The present publishers have made special 
 arrangements with her for the production in this country 
 of her latest work, and the probabilities are that all her 
 future books will bear their imprint. In The Lord's 
 Purscbearers the author draws a terrible picture of life 
 among tne vicious poor in London streets, and shows 
 by what shifts the professional beggars and thieves of 
 the great Babylon manage to live and thrive on the mis- 
 placed charity of the pitying well-to-do population. She 
 arouses a strong feeling of sympathy for the children who 
 are bred in the haunts of vice, and who are instructed 
 in crime before they are old enough to know the meaning 
 of the word. The story is one of intense interest, and 
 the characters, especially those of old Isaac Chippendell, 
 his granddaughter Joan, and little Lucky, are forcibly 
 drawn. One can hardly believe that such places exist 
 or that such deeds are perpetrated as are here described, 
 but one who is familiar with London and its streets knows 
 that tliey are no exaggerations. The volume is illustrated. 
 
 THE AFTERGLOW OF EUROPEAN TRAVEI* By Adelaide 
 L. Harrington. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. Price $1.50. 
 This pleasant record of experiences abroad will delight those 
 who have gone over the same ground, as well as those who 
 have never strayed beyond the bounds of their own country. 
 It is not a connected story of travel, but consists of reminis- 
 cences and descriptions of various spots and objects which 
 made the deepest and most lasting impression upon tbe 
 
 MtftE. 
 
"Ideal American magazines!* 
 
 It is a fact acknowledged by 
 the English press that American 
 magazines, by enterprise, able edi- 
 torship, and liberal expenditure for 
 the finest of current art and litera- 
 ture, have won a rank far in ad- 
 vance of European magazines. 
 
 It is also a fact that for 
 young people 
 
 WIDE AWAKE 
 
 Stands foremost } 
 
 In pleasitre- 
 In practical 
 
 elping I 
 
 Each year's numbers contain a thousand guarto pages, covering the widest 
 range of literature of interest and value to young people, from such authors as 
 John G. Whittier, Charles Egbert Craddock, Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, Susan 
 Coolidge, Edward Everett Hale, Arthur Gil man, Edwin Arnold, Rose 
 King^ley, Dinah Mulock Craik, Margaret Sidney, Helen Hunt Jackson 
 (H. H.). Harriet Beecher Stowe, Elbridge S. Brooks and hundreds of 
 others; and half a thousand ilhistrations by F. H. Lungren, W. T. Smedley, 
 Miss L. B. Humphrey, F. S. Church, Mary Hailock Foote, F. Childe 
 Hassam, E. H. Garrett, Hy. Sandham and other leading American artists. 
 0.-VL.Y $3.00 A YEAR. PROSPECTUS FREE. 
 
 WIDE AWAKE is the official organ of the C. Y. F. R. U. The Required 
 Readings are also issued simultaneously as the CHAUTMJQUA YOUNG FOLKS' 
 JOURNAL, with additional matter, at 75 cents a year. 
 
 For the younger JBoyn and Oirln o*rl the Babies: 
 
 Our Little Men 
 and Women, 
 
 With its 75 full-page 
 
 Eictures a year, and num- 
 erless smaller, and its 
 delightful stories and 
 poems, is most admirable 
 for the youngest readers. 
 $1.00 a year. 
 
 Babyland 
 
 Never fails to carry de- 
 light to the babies and 
 rest to the mammas, with 
 its large beautiful pict- 
 ures, its merry stories and 
 jingles, in large type, on 
 heavy paper. 
 
 50 cts. a year. 
 
 The Pansy, 
 
 ;*ed by the famous 
 author of the " Pansy 
 Books,'' is equally 
 charming and suitable for 
 week-day and Sunday 
 reading. Always contains 
 a serial by '* Pansy." 
 
 end for specimen copies % circulars, etc. , to the Publishers- 
 
 D. LOTHROP & CO., BOSTON, MASS., IJ. S. A. 
 
Little Folks' Every Day BooL 
 
 KYHMES AND ILLUSTRATIONS FOR EVERY DAY. 
 
 MAY i8T*t. 
 
 A song of a nesc : 
 There was once a nest in a hollow ; 
 Down in the mosses and knot-grass pressed 
 Soft and warm, and full to the brim: 
 
 MAY IQTH. 
 
 " Good night ! " said the hen, when h 
 
 supper was done, 
 To Fanny who stood in the door, 
 " Good night," answered she, " come back 
 
 in the morn, 
 And you and your chicks shall have more." 
 
 MAY 20TH. 
 
 There's a merry brown thrush sitting up 
 
 in the tree, 
 " He's singing to me ! He's singing to 
 
 me !" 
 
 And what does he say, little girl, little boy ? 
 ** Oh, the world's running over with joy " 
 
 Edited by AMANDA B. HARRIS. 
 
 TWELVE COLOR DESIGNS EMBLEMATIC OF THE MONTHS i 
 
 By GEORGE F. BARNES. 
 Sctuare i8mo, tinted edges, JSi.oo. 
 
 KXIJOTHROP & CO., Publishers, 30 and 32 Franklin SU 
 
YB 74266 
 
 M111798 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY