The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1875-12-11
CHE Rntlana daily 6lobs
SATURDAY, DECEMBER II. 1875.
THE PERIL OF MARTHA WARREN.
A Story Of the Ammonoosuc River.

l
Goodbye, Martha. God help you
shall be back in three days at the fsrthest |"
The hardy White Mountain pioneer, Mark
Warren, kissed his young wife, held his
two yesrs-old boy 10 his breast for q mo-
ment, and then shouldering the sack Of corn
which was to be converted into meal at the
rude mill, for miles away, trudged of
through the wilderness.
Martha Warren stood at the door of the
low cottage, gazing out after the retreating
form of her husband. An angle of the dense
shrubbery hid him from her view, but still
she did not return to the solitary kitchen.
1t looked so dark and lonesome there, she
shrank from entering, or perhaps the grand
sublimity of the view spread out before her
held her attention and thrilled her soul
with nameless, unexplained something that
we all see when standing thus face to face
with the works of God.
The finest and most satisfactory views of
the White Mountains is that which presents
itself from what is now the town Of Beth
lehem, on the road to Littleton and Fran
coma. Mount Washington, the king among
princes, is there seen in its proper place
the centre of the 'rock-ribbed" range
towering, bald, blue and unapproachable.
Far up in wild clearing, close by the
cottage situated-a place wild and mrie
enough for the nest OF an eagle, but dear
to the heart of Martha Warren, as the home
where she had spent the happy days of her
young wifehood. When she had turned
from many patrician sutton, in the fair old
town of Portsmouth, to join her fortunes
with those OF the young settler, 1t was with
the full and perfect understanding of the
trials that lay before her. She would walk
in no path of roses for years to come much
OF her life must be spent in the eternal sol
itudes, where silence was broken only by
the wild winds of the forrest, the shrek of
tina river over the sharp rocks, or the dis
NAL howl of the sea-mouthed wolf, afar in
the wilderness.
The necessary absence of her husband
she dreaded most. 1t was 30 very gloomy
to close up her doors at night, and sit down
by her lonely Preside, with the conscious
ness that there was no human being nearer
ten miles away through the pathless woods
There was little to fear from Indians. al.
though few of the scattered tribes vet
rosmed over these nrlmeval hunting
grounds. Thew were mostly disnosed IN he
! friendly. and Mira Warren's hind beart nat
urally prompted her IN many acts of friend.
ship towards them. and an Indian meyer
| foreets a benefit
The nurnle mat cleared awav from tho
scarred forehead of the dominant sld NOM.
tain: the yellow ann peened over the rocky
wall. and Martha turned awav IN the nor.
formance of her simple domestic duties
| The dav was a long one hit IL wore tov.rd
| evening. and the planning comes mucb
sooner in these solitudes than in any other
places. The sunlioht faded ont Of the nm.
glazed windows though Il would ;llumine
the distant mountains for some time vet.
and Martha went out in the scantv garden
to inhsle the odor Of the sweet pipks on the
meapre root she hud brought from her old
home,
The spicy perfume carried her back in
memory to those DAYS awsv in the nast
spent with kind friends. and cbeered by
bright Young hopes. But though the thought
of home and kindred made her sad, not for
| moment did she regret the fate she nsd
chosen. Absorbed in thought, she had not
observed the absence of Charlie, her little
boy now che saw with vague uneasiness
that he had left the bed Of peppermint,
where he had been playing, and was not to
be seen. She called his name, but only
echo and the roar of the swollen river re-
piled. She flew back 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 searched the clear
ing, but without success. Her next thought
WAS the river! Black as night, save where
it fiecked with spots of white foam-it flow
ed on but few rods before her. She hur-
ried down the brink, calling out, "Charlie,
Charliel'
The child's small voice, at some little
distance, replied. She followed the sound,
and to her sorrow saw her boy--his golden
hair and rosy cheeks clearly defined against
the purple twilight sky-standing on the
very edge of huge, 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 good situation for casting
fishing lines, and Mark Warren had bridged
the narrow chasm between it and the shore
with a couple of hewn logs.
Allured by some clusters of flaming fire.
weed, growing on the side of the Pulpit.
Charlie had crossed over, and now stood
there, regardless of danger, laughingly
holding out the floral treasures to his moth
err Martha few over the frail bridge, and
the next moment held the child in her
arms. joyful because she had found him
uniDjured, and mentally resolving that the
logs should be removed to prevent further
accident, she turned to retrace her steps,
but the sight that met her eyes froze her
with horror to the spot.
Confronting her on the bridge, not siz
feet distant, was an enormous wolf, gauni
and bony with hunger, his eyes blazing like
live Goals through the mist and gloom, his
hot, fetrid breath scorching the very air she
breathed.
A low growl Of intense satisfaction stirred
the air, answered by the growl of ffty
more of his kind, belonging to the pack
in another moment they would be upon
her.
Without an instant's thought of the con-
sequences, Martha obeyed her first impulse
and struck the logs with her foot, exercis
ing all her mad strength in the blow. The
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