Year: 1867

BY JOHN WITHERSPOON ERWIN.


CHAPTER u.-CoNTINUED.


Minutes gided slowly, yet insensibly away, willis
he awaited the coming of the canoe, with an arm
upon the neck of his powerful ANIMAL that stoot
patiently and quietly by, his broad forehead anc
bold fearless eye, following the glance of his master
turned to the point above as ifhe, too by virtue
that subtle instinct with which the noble animals o.
his species are so richly gifted, knew the cause o.
his masters waiting and sagaciously shared In hi
watchfulness.


As minute after minute passed by, In vain ex
pectation, the fears of Guiscard became painfully
excited. He feared lest the canoe might have
been swept, by the frequently changing current, In
to the recesses of the vast swamp, overturned ano
lost or, if still aoat, that it might lie for days en-
tangled in the labyinthine recesses of the swamp
until famine, the most lingering of all deaths
came to the relief of the i-fated maiden, Ignorant
alike of the art of guiding the canoe and destitute
of the means for so doing She might be carried
miles away, through the swamp, and become so be-
wildered and entangled that, even to one capable
of managing canoe, extrication would be impos
sible unless by accident 1t was now too late fol





lowing on her track; she might already have been
carried far into the swamp beyond the reach Of
any friendly voice; and, besides, it would have
been rsking the chance of rescuing her, to leave
his present post of observation.


Meantime, encompassed on every side by dan
ger, the fair young being, so suddenly snatched
away from her friends, instinctively turned for
safety and guidance to that stronger Power who is
the Wisdom of the simple, and the Strength OF the
weak As the canoe passed around the bend OF
the river, and shut from her view the group OF her
agonized and heart-stricken friends, she bowed
her knee and clasped her hands in prayer


Beautiful is faith in all, but, of all, most beauti-
full in woman. With man it may be a principle
"a gift of God that comes after trials have soft
ened and chastened the heart but with her, 1t is
an instinct Without faith and trust in an overru-
ling Power, man may in be in some sense perfect,
but woman becomes moral monster. Graceful
ness, beauty and intelligence may all adorn, but
they cannot give her that missing instinct, which
alone makes her sex complete. United, like man,
to struggle with the world or with her own heart,
whatever goodness she may possess, comes not
from victory over evil, but from heart made
purer and better than that of man by Him who
gives her an instructive love for all which is good
and holy. Take away her instructive dependence
upon the Deity, and she stands before us unsexed.
We look upon her with that revusion of feeling, al
most rising into loathing and horror which the
Corsar felt, when he saw the blood spot upon the
cheek of Gulnare, fresh from the murder of her
sleeping lord.


Alarmed as she was at her peril, Helen did not
wholly lose her presence Of mind. Once or twice,
when large uprooted tree came floating along,
its boughs lashng the water as it slowly revolved
and threatening to bear down the canoe, she had
sufficient coolness and presence of mind to reach
forth her hand, and by gentle push against limb
that came within her reach, to communicate such
an impulse to the canoe as to impel it some rods a.
way from the impending danger. She soon possess
ed herself of long cane that floating by, light
and vet strong, which she dexterously employed in
avoiding the floating trees and logs that drfted BY
In sweeping around the many bends which abound
in this portion of the river, she sometimes found it
difficult to avoid being driven from the ordinary
bed of the river, far into swamp, on account OF
the tendency of the current to flow in straight
line At such times, the cane, which had providen-





vice, in enabling her to keep the frail canoe within
the channel of the river. Once, frightened at the
rapid motion of the canoe, she caught, in passing,
at the limbs of tree to arrest her rapid flight but
50 narrowly escaped being dragged from the canoe
into the stream, that she was content, for the fu
ture, to keep within the channel and let the canoe
float with the current.


Her situation was indeed enough to shake the
nerves of timid woman and render her wild with
fear. At times, bewildered and appalled, by the
terors of her situation she almost ncied that the
scene around her was but the unreal phantoms Of
a dream, and that the wild stream, on which she
foated so swiftly, was bearing her to some fearful
and enchanted spot, in the bosom of the dlsma
swamp, 50 ghostly with its solemn expresses and
their long floating drapery Of moss, to


"Regions of SORROW doIeful shades, where peace


And rest can never dwell; hope never comes


That comes to all.'


The swamp that enclosed the river on either
hand, cut her off from all hope of succor, and there
was no spot of firm land, anywhere in sight, to re-
ccive her, had she been able to guide her canoe
safely. -.
After she had been drifting along in this wllo
career for miles, even hope died out, and the apa
thv of despair settled upon her. For the first time
she wept, but her tears were not for herself Sht
thought only of the agony of torturng suspense ant
grief that were now busy as promethean vuture
at the heart of her mother. She believed that he
hours were numbered, and that she was doomed t.
ner;sh soon after the swiftly declining sun with
drew his light and the darkness of night closed
nnon the turbid stream, and veiled from her eye
the dangers she had hitherto been enaDleo 70
void. ~


Life is sweet to the young. Especially is it sWee
to the tenderly nurtured, who have never know
sorrow or care, whose pathway has been among
roses-roses without thorns. Perhaps, sweet Wis
ions of the fair young faces that she loved cam
a-.,,,,d her in that hour. when it seemed meet t