The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1865-01-13

Calls WIN all the desperation OF one drown
ing; she rushes forward. But the ground
is rough, and alas! how heavy the baby
grows. She is giddy with loss of sleep
and want of food. The baby means and
will not be comforted. In this way passes
the day and another dreadful night She
finds another fire, she stays by it and keeps
it burning through the night, for she is
afraid of wolves. Another morning and
she is not hopeful. She has no nourish-
ment for the child. o will not Heaven
pity her? Have the sweet April skies be-
came brass to shut ost her cries for help ?
Has God forgotten to be gracious The
little one grown weaker, he cannot hold
up his head Another terrible night; he
means piteously, he falls into convulsions !;
the next day he dies. All day she car
ries the little lifeless body in her arms, land
all the night, beneath the far-off unpity-
ing stars, she holds it to her bosom. Poor
woman! We do not know what les
son was meant to her by the good Father
But perhaps she has known long since :;
perhaps at this very moment she thanks
and adores Him for that great and sore
distress, of which we cannot even hear at
this far remove Of time without a heart
ache.
She carried the little dead burden day
after day, until the purple hue of decay
was setting rapidly over it, and she felt,
with pang at her heart, that she must
bury it, Then she looked about for spot
where she might dig the tiny grave, so
deep that the wild cat and the wolf should
not scent it out. Weak as she was, this
was no easy task, but in her wanderings
she came upon a giant tree, uptorn at
some former time y a hurricane. In the
soft earth where the roots had lain, she
scooped the baby's resting place, and max
ing it soft with moss, covered the cold lit
tie form forever from her sight, Then
she sat down by the grave in stupor of
grief. Hour after hour passed, how long
a time she knew not, when she arose to
her feet to commence again the dreadful
pilgrimage. Then she noted everything
about the spot. Here was rock, there
stood an immense hemlock. Yes, she
would know the place. She could find it
easily with Robert. Then began again the
struggle through the wilderness. Day
after day, week after week she pressed on.
Her shoes were worn to fragments and
fell from her feet. Heriigarments were worn
to tattcrs. But the days grew warmer,
and the fever that was burning in her
veins made even the soft showers that fell
upon her welcome. First she ate the
buds of trees and the bark of the black
birch Presently she began to find young
checkerberry leaves, and now and then she
came upon a partridge's nest and greedi-
ly sucked the eggs. After time there
were red raspberries and black thimble-
berries in the woods, and then she knew
it was July.
The trees had now put on afresh their
beautiful garments. But for the delicious
poetry that one finds in the woods, saun-
tering ont from busy life for an hour, she
cared nothing. She saw nothing but
trees, trees, trees. in intcrminable success
sion, in bewildering sameness. 1t seemed
years, YES ages ago, that she swept the
hearth with a birch broom and sung the
baby to sleep in Roberts cabin. Her
mind grew bewildered, still she went on,
on, on. When she came to a large stream
she went up towards its source till she
could wade across it. SO she said and
she affirmed that she never crossed any
stream wider than a brook. She paid no
attention to sun or moon as guide or indi-
cation OF the points of compass, but she
must have taken a northwesterly and then
northeastcrly course. There was Black
river, Mill river, Waterquechy, White,
Waits, Wells, flowing into the Connecti-
cut from the Vermont side; but she con-
stantly asserted that she saw none of them
Through July and August there were ber-
ries of various kinds, and by means of
these she sustained what little life was left
to her. And now the naples began to
take on the gorgeous crimson and the sill
Yer blrches to wear the pale gold of Sep
tember; the birds were leaving the forest.
Still she went on, on, on. Occasionally
she had gllmpses of an brindled fur among
the branches, or a black bear turned out
her path afraid of the human form !;
but no human being did she ever meet,
and long, long before human voices had
ceased to call her name Was she all
alone Oh the earth, and was the earth but
one vast wilderness without outlet, with
out clearing or settlement? Had God
taken away all life but that of brutes, and
forgotten her, or ordained her to wander
forever? Tramping, tramping, tramping,
with feet bleeding and cracked at first and
afterwards calloused naked or nearly so,
knowing nothing of time or place, she
was fast becoming idiotic When she
was hungry she sough for food, but the
great idea lingering in her mind was that
Of pressing on. Since the luxuriance Of
summer had filled the forest with ferns
and the underbrush, there was more diff
Guilty in passing through. But she had
become accustomed to the rough work,
and the frenzy became at last steady,
constant habit; the labor of life to her.
One day in October the inhabitants o1
the village Of Charlestown, New Hamp.
shire, were startled into the widest ex.
citement, by seeing a naked, emaciated
woman, with her hair streaming upon hel
shoulders, walk with bewildered gaze