The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1868-08-14
Lost in the Woods.
ALEGEND OF VERMONT.

\ LEGEND OF VERMONT.
About ninety years ago. | suppose, the
events of my story occurred. II was in
/ Vermont, within the limits of the town
/ of Rockingham or Springfield, it is inn
| possible 10 tell which, that the log cabin
which was the home of the heroine,
stood surrounded by forest. The real
names of the actors in this tragedy of the
/ woods have passed out of the legend,
! and | therefore substitute the names
/ which come to my mind
Il have finished my spinning, Robert,
and shall carry the yarn home to-day.
I think | will spend the day with Mrs.
/ Green, and wish you would come and
meet me and bring the baby home, y
/ said the young wife, taking the linen
yarn in her apron and the baby on her
! arm.
VERY WE'LL replied the husband,
/ giving the Growing child kiss, as he
/ started off with his hoe over his shout
/ der, for the wheat field. His lot had
/ been burned over and sOwn with wheat,
/ but the huge stumps of the old trees, and
/ the thick underground roots in the new
land, prevented the use of a plow.
! All day he worked busily in the fresh
/ soil. with the strange wood sound about
/ him. eating his lunch at noon from his
/ little basket, until the heightened shad-
! ows of the forest around his clearing be-
{ tokened sunset. Then he started off TO
! meet his wife. A mile or two in the
! forest his neighbOr Green had made his
| clearing. He went on without meeting
/ his wife and baby until he got 70 his
/ neighbours door.
"Why, said Mrs. Green, in answer TO
/ his inquiries, didn't you meet her
She hasn't been gone long-only few
minutes"
Can she possibly have missed the
/ marked trees ," asked Robert Harris
aghast.
"Do not be alarmed, neighbor Harris, -
! said Mr.. Green, II viii 20 back with
/ you.
The two men went together through
/ the forest, which every moment grew
/ darker and drearier. They called Mrs.
/ Harris name loudly AT intervals, but
/ there came no reply. They kept
/ saying TO each other, I'VE may find her
AZ home," but they were heavy at heart.
- Tse sog ho,sse WIS reached, but the
| mother aud baby were not there. The
! COW lowed to be MIXED, and the pigs,
which ran in the woods and came home
at night, clamored for their usual feed
! Tag, but the men took no notice of them.
/ Back again through the woods with a
lantern, calling and halloOing.
They then went to the next clearing
/ and the next. "A woman lostw What
telegram in the exciting days of battle
ever fell more thrillingiy on human ears
than these words, going from mouth TO
mouth, among the home nests Of a new
country With iron muscles and de-
termined wills the warm-hcarted set
tiers started out I'VE will scour the
/ woods we will find them, never fear"
According to custom they had at such
/ times, they blew dinner horns. built
/ fires, and shouted until they were hOarse.
| No tidings of the lost ones on that night.
/ All the next day they searched, and day
after day as long as possible. Fires
were left smouldering among the trees,
men who knew the woods kept resOlute-
/ ~ TO the search, but the budding April
forest had its own secrets.
When Mrs. Harris started with her
baby in her arms from Mrs. Green's eX-
| pectng momentarily to meet her hus-
| band, she went OIL carelessly, her atten-
ton being directed in part TO her child,
and suddenly looking up, she discover
! ed no white scars of the axe on any tree
/
stepped out of the track, and might in q
moment regain it. A vain fancy! She
went on, but nothing familiar met her
eyes.
| The night came on. The little birds
went to rest. and the owls commenced a
doleful hooting. She was alone with
her infant in the great sea of forests
where never woodman's axe had echoed.
/ She was lost. She sat down, faint and
tired, and, woman-like began to cry.
| Harki That was certainly a human
| shout. She arose, and holding her
course, ran breathless toward it. And
now she thought she heard it again,
farther off Many hours in the night
were spent in rushing, with hysterical
sobs and palpitating heart, towards the
voices of her friends, so near that she
could hear them, but so far way that
no effort of strength could enable her TO
reach their protecting presence.
What pity it wasI Towards morn
ing she slept, leaning against tree,
with the baby on her bosom. But she
had started nervously in her dreams,
and at the first bird-sOng awoke to full
| consciousness. With daybreak came a
renewal of her courage. She would not
weakly give up to die. Her friends
1
would find them. She saw near her some
last years berries and tough leaves of
wintergreen and few acorns. A poor
breakfast, but she ate whatever she
could find, for the sake of her child more
| than her own. This day also she ran
wildly through the tangle of dead brakes
and briers, growing from the decay OF
| centuries, over gullies and Jagged rocks,
past rude branches that caught at and
rent her dress, till she came to the dying
| embers of fire. Here she fingered
| long. Her friends had been here; per-
| haps Robert had kindled this fire with
his own hands, and for her. Hark,
again. The search has commenced this
morning. Echoing through the woods
came the prolonged shrek fthe dinner
| horn. She calls with all the despera-
ton of one drowning; she PUSHES for
ward, but the ground is rough, and, alas!
how heavy the baby grows! She is
| giddy with the loss of sleep and the
want of food The baby means, and
will not be comforted- In this way pas
ses 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 almost hopeless.
Oh, will not heaven pity her? The
little one grows weaker he cannot hold
up his head. Another terrible night ;
he means piteously he falls into con-
vultions; the next day he dies. All day
! she carries the little lifeless body in her
arms, and all night, beneath the I'M
| pitying stars, she holds it to her bosom.
She carried the little dead burden day
sfter day. until the purple hue of decay
was settling rapidly over it, and she
felt with a 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 wildcat and the
wolf might not scent it out. Weak as
she was, this was no easy task, but In
| her wanderings she came upon giant
| tree. uptorn at some former time by Q