Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1845-11-21

spring. Then was seen a SAD slght; a Wo-
man with attenuated form, flying she knew
not whittier, and continually exclaiming, |
"Mv children / my children" 1t was fear
full to see a creature so deadly pale She
Needed no advice to take care of herself, no
persuasion to return to her HON
"They call me! Let me go! will lay
them in their bed my self. How cold their
feet arel What! is Jane singing her night
ly hymn without me! No. no, she cries;
SOM evil serpent has stung her!' and shrek
ing wildly, the poor mother disappeared Ike
a hunted deer, in the depths OF the forest
Oh /! might she but have wrapped them In
her arms, as they shivered In their dismal re-
cess, under the roots of a tree uptorn by
som wintry tempest! Yet how could she
imagine the spot where they lay, or believe
that those little wearied limbs had borne them
through bog and bamble, more than SIX
miles from the parental door! In the niche
which we have mentioned, a RANT moaning
sound might still be heard.
"Sister, do not tell me that we shall never
see the baby any more. l see 1t now and
Thomas too, dear Thomas! why do they
say he died, and was buried! lie Is close
by me, just above my head. There are many
more babies with him-a host. Ihey glide
by as if they had wings. They look warm
and happy. | should be glad to be with
them, and ioin their beautiful plays. But
o, how cold | am! Cover me closer, Mary.
Take my head into your BOSOM"
sPray do not 90 to sleep quite yet, dear
little Jane. | want to hear your voice, and
to talk with YOU. 1t is so very sad to be
walking here all alone. If | could but see
your face when you are asleep, it would be a
comfort, But it is so dark, SO dark."
Rousing herself with difficulty, She unties
her apron, and spreads it over the head oil
the child, to protect it from the driving snow;
she pillows the cheek on her breast, and
grasps more firmly the benumbed hand, by
which she had so faithfully led her, through
all their terrible pilgrimage. There they
are One moves not. The other keeps VI
gil, feebly giving utterance, at Intervals, to a
low, suffocating spasm, from a throat dried
with hunger. Once more she leans upon her
elbow to look on the face of the little one,
for whom as a mother she cared. With love
strong as death, she comforts herself that her
sister slumbers calmly, because the stroke OF
the destroyer has silenced her sobbings.
All! why came We not hither, torches that
CLEAN through the wilderness, and men who
Shout to each otherl why cane ye not this
way! See! how they plunge into morasses,
they cut their path through tangled thickets,
they ford waters, they ascend mountains, they
explore forests-but the lost are not found,
The third and fourth nights come and de-
part. Still the woods are filled with eager
searchers. Sympathy has gathered them
from remote settlements. Every log cabin
| sends forth what it can spare for this work OF
pity and of sorrow. They cross each others
track. necessarily they interrogate and re-
J. n =. -. M 1o,t 80 ,4t c,,,.
In her mournful dwelling, the mother sal
motionless. Her infant was upon her lap
The strong duty to succor its helplessness
~grappled with the might of grief, and prevail
ed. Her eyes were riveted upon its brow
No sound passed her white lips. Plying
women, from distant habitations, gathered a
round and wept for her. They even essayed
some word of consolation. But she answer
ed nothing. She looked not toward them
She had no ear for human voices. In he
soul was the perpetual cry Of the lost.
Nothing overpowered it but the wall of tit
living babe. She ministered to its %necessi
ties, and heaven inspired impulse saved her
She had no longer any hope for those whC
had wandered away. Horrid images were
in her fancy-the Tavening beasts-black pitt
of starnant water-bitds of fierce beak-
venemous, coiling snakes. She bowed her
self down to them, and travelled as in tn,
birth hour, fearfully and in silence. But thu
helpless babe on her bosom touched an cleo
trio chord and saved her from despair. Ma
ternal love, with its pillar of cloud and o
fame, guided her through the desert that sh'
persisted not.
Sunday came, and the search was unaba
ted. 1t seemed only marked by a deepe
tinge of melancholy. The most serious Eel
it fitting to 90 forth at that sacred season, t.
seek the lost; though not like their Maste
girded with the power to save. Parents re
membered that it might have been thei
own little ones, who had thus strayed from
the fold, and with their gratitude, took some
thing of the mourner's spirit into their hearts
Even the sad hope of gathering the dead 70
the sepulchre, and the sole hope that nov
sustained their toll, began to fade into DOUBT
AS they climbed over huge trees, which thu
winds of winter had Frustrated, or forced
their way among rending brambles, sharI
rocks, and close woven branches, they maj
yelled how such fragile forms could have ell
dured hardship by which the vigor of man
hood was impeded and perplexed.
The echo of a gun rang suddenly through
the forest. 1t was repeated. Hill to hill
bore the thrilling message. 1t was the con
certed signal that their anxieties were ended
The h%urrying seeker followed its sound
From a commanding clin, a white flag wa
seen to float. 1t was q herald that the los
were found.
There they were, near the base of a wood
ed hillock, half graded among the roots 0
an uptorn chestnut. There they lay cheeI
to cheek, hand clasped in hand. The blast
had mingled in one mesh their dishevelo
locks, fer they had left home with their poo
heads uncovered. The youngest had Passe'
away in sleep. There was no contorilon o
her brow, though her features were sunk an