Litchfield enquirer., 1835-08-13

T not met with brook from which | could p qnench my thirst, or even allay the hurn-
 ing heat of my parcbed lips aud blaod- -shGl r eyes. Il knew that if I should. nut meet F with some stream must die, for my axe 4 was any only weapon, and although deer and bear, now and chen started within a few yards or even feet of me, not one, ot
 them could ! kill; and ahhougi, was; in
 the midst of abundance, ,noi a moulhful did j expect to procure, to satisfy the cravings iI "l my empty stomach. Sir. may God pre- serve you from ever feeling as Il did the whtAelof that day'!'.Y f4I@.lars. s.ss isa3 T For several days after, no, one can im-
 agine the condition in which he was. for he related tome tllis painful adven-. .inrs he assured me that he had lost aH re-
 collection of what had happened. God, ' ne continued, must have taken pity on me I one day, fors as ran wildly throught.hose I dreadful pine absrsens, met withia tortoise,
 gazed upon aitswith amazeMent and de-,
 light, and although Iknew that were to
 follow it undisturbed. it would lead me .to
 some water, my hunger and thirst would
 not allow me to refrain from satisfying both
 by eating it's flesh, and drinking its blood.
 With one stroke of my axe. the beast was
 cut m two. and ip a few moments I des-
 patched all but the she'll Oh, Sir, how
 much lthanked God, whose kindness had
 put the tortoise insmy way q felt greatly
 renewed. l,sat downat the foot ofa pine,
 gazed on the heavens, thought of my poor
 wife and children, and again. and again
 thanked my, God for my life, for now felt
 less distracted in mind, and more assured that before long l must recover my way,
 and ge, back to my home. @'~
 The Lost One remained and passed the night, at the foot of the same tree under which his repast had been made, Refresh ed by a sound sleep, he started at dawn to resume his weary march. The sun, rose bright, stand he followed tl,e. direction of the shadows.i Still the edreariness of the
 woods was the same, and he was on the
 point of giving up in despair, when lie ob-
 served a racoon lying squatted in the grass.
 Raising his axe, he. drove ii it with such vio--
 fence through the helpless animal, that it expired without a. struggle. What le. had done with the turtle, he now did with the | racoon, the greater part of which he aciu- ally devoured at one meaL With more l comfortable feelings, he then resumed his | wanderings---his journey, caunot .say--- for although in the possession of all his fac | ulties. and in broad day light, he was worse
 of than lame man groping his way in the ! dark out of 9 dungeon, of which he knew not where the door stood. ss gsna.( g. . Days, one afier anoiher, passed---nay Tas ,Eas t:.i ;n ,;s |sv was welcome % and sa-
 worry. Yet he became daily more emacia-
 ted, until at length he could scarcely crawl. | Forty days had elapsed, by his own reck-
 oning, when he at last reached the banks | of the river.. His clothes in tatters, his l once bright axe dia,med- with rust, his face
 begrimmed with beard, his hair matted,
 and his feeble frame little better than
 skeleton covered with parchment there he laid himself down to die. Amid the perturbed dreams of his fevered fancy, he heard the noise of oars far away on the sl- lent river. He listened, but the sound di- ed away on his ear. It was indeed . dream, the last glimmer of expiring hope. and now the light life was about to be quenched | forever. But again, the sound of oars a.
 woke him from his lethargy. He listened
 so eagerly, that the hum of a fly could not
 have escaped his ear. They were indeed the measured beats of oars, aud now, joy
 to the forlorn soul the sound of human voices thrilledsio his hearr, and awoke the
 tumultuous pulses of fre,urning hope. On
 his knees did the eye of God see that poor
 man by the broad still stream tliat glittered
 in the sunbeams, ,and human eyes soon saw him too, for round that headland covered
 with tangled brdshwood, boldly advances
 the little boat, propelled by it's lusty row
 CTS. The Lost One raisAs his feeble
 voice on high :-it was a loud shriil scream.
 of joy and fear. The rowers pause, and
 look around. Another, but feebler scream
 and they observe him. It cOmes--his heart
 Autters, his sighy is dimmed, his brain reels, l he gasps for breath. It conies--it has run
 upon the beach, and the Lost One is found. This is no talc of fiction, but the relation
 of an actual occurrence, which might be
 embelIished, no doubt.. but which is better in the plain garb of truth. The potes by
 which recorded it were written iD the
 cabin of the once lost clive-oaker, aboH'
 four years after the painful incident occur
 red. His amiable wife, and loving children: were present at the recital. and never si'ai' I forget the tears that flowed from them as they listened to it.. albeit it had long been more familiar to them than a tale thrice told. Sincerely do | wish, good reader ....ks.s Hsta