Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1864-12-02
From the Flag of Our Union.
The Indians Payment.
BY MRS. CAROLINE A souLB.

/
occasional dashes of rain, and the eve
ming, which set in early, promised to be
one of tempest. The wind went rush
ing about with that low mournful howl
whi ch is known only in the autumn time,
lashing the naked boughs fthe old forest
trees with its furious surges, whirling
the dead leaves which lay heaped in the
dark rayines into maelstrom eddies, and
driving everything before it with vio-
lence that made them only too glad to be
free. The clouds which had hung in
scattered masses while the livid sun sent
its struggling beams among them, gather
cred themselves into single mighty one
and shrouded the heavens as with pail,
threatening every moment TO burst into
drenching foods.
God pity the homeless to nightP ex>
claimed young man in an emphatic
tone, as pushing open the rude door of
bis log cabin, be dragged in the old back
log that was to warm the rough hearth
stone and irradiate the brown rafters
through the long cherries hours of the
autumn storm. God pity and protect
them too, for a cold and weary time
they'll have. / trust no one wanders in
the wilderness; though lest there should
be, I'll do what can 20 give them a bea-
con lIght;' and even while be spoke, be
planted the huge, knotty stick into bed
of crimson Goals and filled the space be-
tween it and the old iron fre-holders with
generous armful of light dry kinding,
which soon burst into brilliant blaze,
not only scattering light and heat across
the dim apartment, but sending stream
of. moon-like rays through the tiny wins
dows, that went dancing like a thing of
life through the outer darkness till il was
lost in the mazes Of the untracked forest. !
There, said the warm hearted woods
man, as he watched the sky-bound sparks
and the continuous glow, I've done my
part towards leading them to a home, if !
any there be abroad and wandering, and
now I'll enjoy it myself and he drew
his seat to the bomely board on which /
smoked hunters fare-steaks from the
wild deer, stew of birds which be had
shot while standing in the door of his cab
in, and cakes Of powdered corn, nicely
baked and Drowned on a clean corner of |
the rough hearth. A relishing meal it
was, too, for the hands Of a loving and
gentle wife had cooked it all, and honest
sturdy toll bad awakened that keen zest
for food which the idler never knew.
"A supper fit for king said be, as he
to his cosy place before the fire
We shan't starve yet awhile, Moll-not
while there are birds in the trees and
game in the woods, and strength in these
brawny arms. Only keep warm hope
ir your heart, little wife, and our home
will yet be a bonny spotp And then be
folded his hands on his bosom and bent
his head and seemed to be reading bright
freight. And when her light evening
chores were done up, his wife drew her
seat close beside him, and as we are all
won't on such stormy nights, when the
learthstone beams, the two warmed their
young memories and strengthened the
oinions of hope. And the evening sped
IN, wildly and awfully without, but calm
y within, by the side of the blazing fire
whose streaming light was the only star
hat cleaned in that dim old forest.
'Well keep the fire up all night, and
Is bright as we can too said the brave
pioneer, as, ere he leaped into bed, in
tead Of raking the Goals, he threw on a
resh bundle of spliuts, Sit is too awful
light for me to sleep sound, and l may
IS well tend it as not. God help them
hat roam, if any there be, and guide them
bis way. 1t shall never be said that |
Iarkened my fire in night like this"
Once or twice did he rouse himself
rom the slumber that in spite of bis awe
f the storm would steal over bis senses.
nd renew the blaze that was dying
way, but then as the rain ceased its
ashing and fell only on the rough roof
With lullaby tone, and the wind hushed
Is howls and only moaned in weary
Ike way, be suffered himself to sink in
hat caln, deep sleep which comes only to
hose who have labored with hands that 7
Rere clean and hearts that we're pure.
An hour or-two passed on, and still he
iePt, and the blazing brands died in the
shes, and the old backlog, cleft with the
vening's flames dropped slowly its Grim.
on fakes, giving out no longer a bril-
ant blaze, but only a steady, ruddy
lare.
just then, footsore. wearied and sick. q
1ers leaned against The rouob door n Il