Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1869-08-27
she brought from her old home.

she brought from her old home.
The spicy perfume carried her back ii
memory to those days away in the past
spent with kind friends, and cheered b,
bright young hopes. But though TIT
thought of home and kindred made he
sad, not for moment did she repent th'
fate she had chosen Absorbed in though
she had not noticed the absence of Char
lie, her little boy; now she saw will
vague uneasinesS that he had left the bee
of peppermint where he had been play
ing, and was not 10 be seen. She calcc
his name, but only echo and the swoller
river replied. She flew to the house, the
faint hope remaining that he might have
returned thither for his pet kitten; but no
the kitten was mewing at the window
but no signs of Charlie.
With frantic haste she sought the clear
iug but without success Hernext thought
was the river, Black rs night, safe where
it was flecked with white foam-it flowed
on but few yards before her She hur-
ried down the bank, calling, Charlie,
Charlie
The chi)d's voice at some little distance
replied. She followed the sound, and to
her horror saw the boy-his golden hair
and rosy cheek clearly defined against
the purple sky-standing on the very
edge OF u high detached rock, some ten
feet from the shore, out in the sweeping
current OF the river.
This rock. called by the settlers, The
Pulpit" was 4 good situation for casting
fish lines. and Mark Warren had abridged
the narrow chasm between it and the
shore with couple of hewn logs.
AIlured by some clusters of flaming
fire weed growing upon the side of the
pulpit, Charlie had passed over, and now
stood there, regardless of danger, laugh
ingly holding out his floral treasure to his
mother. Martha flew over the frail bridge.
and the next moment held her child in her
arms. Joyful because she had found
him uniniured and mentally resolving
that the logs should he removed to pre-
vent further accident, she turned to re-
trace her steps, but the sight that met her
eyes iroze her with horror TO the spot
Confronting her on the bridge. not six
feet distant was an enormous wolf, guant
and bony with hunger, his eyes blazing
like live Goals through The mist and gloom,
his hot fetid breath scorching the very air
she breathed
\ low growl of intense satisfaction
stirred the air, answered the growl OF at
least fifty more of his kind belonging TO
the pack in another moment they would
be upon her.
Without an instants thought of The
consequence, Martha obeyed her first im-
pulse. and struck the logs with her foot,
exercising all her main strength in the
blow. The frail fabric tottcred the soft
earth gave way. there was n breath Of
wild suspense, and then it went down
with dull plunge into the waters be-
Meath The sharp claws OF the volt had
already been OH the scant vegetation OF
/ the rock, and he held there n moment,
struggling with ferocious strengthto gain
foothold. the next he slid down into the
chasm, uttering a wild howl OF disap'
pointed rage.
Martha sank upon her knees and offer
ed up fervent prayer OF thanksgiving
I for her escape; bat simultaneously with
( her heart felt "Amen," there came
dreadful recollection. 1t formed the on
/ " link between the rock and the main
| land, that was severed. True, she WAS
not more than twenty feet distant from
the shore of the river. but she might as
well have been q thousand miles out in
the stream. The water was deep and it
ran with almost inconceivablc rapidity,
forty or fifty feet below her, overthe rocks
so sharp and Jagged thatit made her shiSer
to look over the brink.
Her only hope was in her husband.
Should he return at the expected time
they might still be alive: but ii by any
accident he should be detained beyond
the time She closed her eyes and bosought
God for protection and help.
Cold. and hungry, and drenched by the
mist of the river, Charlie began to cry for
home. She could bear anything better
than that. She took OIL her own garments
to fold around him, and held him to her
breast, and sang him the cradle songs
which had so often soothed him.
But the fierce howls of the wolves, and
the sullen thunders OF the river, filled his
little heart with terror all the long dark
night. though he clung to her neck sleep
less, CRYING TO 90 home 10 papa.
Day dawned at last, the pale sun swim
ming through the Sickly sky, the pallid
forecast OF a storm. Weak and faint from
cold-for summer is no bearer Of tropical
smiles in inhospitable climes-Martha
paced back and forth the narrow limits OF
of the rock Noon came-the faint sun
declined-it was night again. a fog
sank down overthe mountain, followedby
drizzling rain, which before morning chan
ed into perfect deluge. The river rose
fearfully, foaming milk white down the
gorge, filling the air with shuddering
roar like the peal Of an imprisoned earth