Muscatine weekly journal. [volume] (Muscatine, Iowa) 185?-1890, 1858-04-17

question, or devising laws for the pun
ishment of offenders, ana let me ask,
by what other agencies, can we expect
this country to rival the, Garden Of
Eden?
ATHRILLING ADVENTURE.
] Forty years ago, my father settled
in one Of the counties Of Central New
York. All was q wilderness, wild,
grand, beautiful. We located fifteen
miles from the farthest pioneer. The
Moods were around us, the tall trees and
picturesque mountains.
We had opened space in the forest,
and cabin Of that good old time
afforded us shelter. 1t looked new and
comfortable, and its chimney smoke
vGrled gracefully up and vanished with
the shadows Of the forest. The black
ened heaps smoked and cracked, and
deep in those wild solitudes the wilder
ness blossomed and smiled in the pres
ence Of a yellow harvest. A happy
home was there. The birds sang at
early morn, and the deep river near the
door murmured sweetly at nightfall.
There were gentle whisperings in the
old trees. As they bowed their heads
in the winds. holy anthem Aoated up
from the vast temple where nature
breathes fresh and pure from the hand
of God. The wild flowers doomed
even by the very door sill, and the
deer stopped in the forest to gaze up
on the smoke Of the chimney top.
'Twas a beautiful home in the wilder
ness j! Thespring brought US neighbors.
Twas great day when a neighbor
came in and purchased land across the
river. He received warm welcome
from pioneer hearts /; and by the ready
agency Of pioneer hands, comforta-
BILE log cabin peered on. from the dense
woodland of the opposite bank. l
watched the smoke from the opposite
roof as the sun went down, and eagerly
looked for it the next morning. But it
was not the smoke l cared SO much
about. only knew that it curled up
ward from the Preside where dwelt as
beautiful creature as ever bloomed
away from the busy world. And SO l
watched the smoke, and dreamed as /
watched the river, until the moon threw
down it's beautiful pathway Of shining
silver, and listened for the sound OF ia
miliar footsteps. .
Across the river was the home of
Carrie Mason. Before the haze Of mel
low autumn had dropped its dreary hue
on leaf and stream, | had learned to
love her !, and to tell her so, in the still
moonlight of that hidden home. The
leaves faded and the winter winds swept
through the forest, but we cared little
for that. The snow fell thick and fast,
but our cabin homes were bright, and
our hearts were alive with happiness
and hope. When the spring opened
and the birds returned, we were mar
ried. A winter evening party in a new
country-did you ever attend one,
reader? There are large hearths there
to be found.
Garry and I had been invited to at
tend the party rude "jumper % had
been built, and in this we started. Ten
miles were soon passed, and we found
ourselves in as merry and happy a
throng as ever gathered on a frontier.
The huge fire cracked on the wide
hearth, and old fashioned fun and frolic
rang out until late hour. The moon
had gone down When we started for
home, and the snow began to fall /; but
we needed it not, for we talked fast, as
the stout horse sped on in the forest
path.
Garry grasped my arm and whisper
ed, hist! The winds shrieked over the
tops Of the dark pines, and I laughed
at her fears. But she nestled close to
my side, and talked with less glee. In
spite Of all my efforts, a shadow would
creep over my own spirit.
The road wound among dense
growth Of pines which shot upwards,
and yelled even the sky from our path.
The old pines swayed and moaned in
the increasing storm, and the snow fell
fast and thiekly. touched the horse
with the whip, and We moved quickly
through the wood. Again Garry gras-
ped my arm. I heard nothing save the
storm, and yet l was startled as the
horse gave a snort and struck into a
gallop. With heart full Of happiness,
/ had not dreamed Of danger. Again
the horse started in alarm. There was
no sound above the storm. l felt my
cheek. grow white and I felt the blood
run quickly back to nay heart
Clear, wild, terrible, it burst out in
an unearthly howl like wall from the
world Of 6ends. l heard it. Its dis
NAL, heart chilling echoes had not died
away on the storm, when it was answer
ed from score Of throats.
Merciful God IA pack Of wolves were
around us. In those dark woods at
night, and the storm bowling overhead,
a score Of threats were fercely yelling
each other on to the feast. For mo-
ment my senses reeled. But I felt
Garry leaning on my shoulder and |
aroused.
But what hope was there? I had no
uaanne andztha rna1dnned devils were