It was proper to approach with wariness, and
to heed the smallest token which might bespeak their condition. I crept
along the path, bending my ear forward to catch any sound that might
arise. I heard nothing but the half-stifled sobs of the girl. I entered with the slowest and most anxious circumspection. Every thing
was found in its pristine state. The girl noticed my entrance with a
mixture of terror and joy. My gestures and looks enjoined upon her
silence. I stooped down, and, taking another hatchet, cut asunder the
deer-skin thongs by which her wrists and ankles were tied. I then made
signs for her to rise and follow me. She willingly complied with my
directions; but her benumbed joints and lacerated sinews refused to
support her. There was no time to be lost; I therefore lifted her in my
arms, and, feeble and tottering as I was, proceeded with this burden
along the perilous steep and over a most rugged-path. I hoped that some exertion would enable her to retrieve the use of her
limbs. I set her, therefore, on her feet, exhorting her to walk as well
as she was able, and promising her my occasional assistance. The poor
girl was not deficient in zeal, and presently moved along with light and
quick steps. We speedily reached the bottom of the hill. No fancy can conceive a scene more wild and desolate than that which now
presented itself. The soil was nearly covered with sharp fragments of
stone. Between these, sprung brambles and creeping vines, whose twigs,
crossing and intertwining with each other, added to the roughness below,
made the passage infinitely toilsome. Scattered over this space were
single cedars with their ragged spines and wreaths of moss, and copses
of dwarf oaks, which were only new emblems of sterility. I was wholly unacquainted with the scene before me. No marks of
habitation or culture, no traces of the footsteps of men, were
discernible. I scarcely knew in what region of the globe I was placed. I
had come hither by means so inexplicable as to leave it equally in doubt
whether I was separated from my paternal abode by a river or an ocean. I made inquiries of my companion, but she was unable to talk coherently. She answered my questions with weeping, and sobs, and entreaties to fly
from the scene of her distress. I collected from her, at length, that
her father's house had been attacked on the preceding evening, and all
the family but herself destroyed. Since this disaster she had walked
very fast and a great way, but knew not how far or in what direction. In a wilderness like this, my only hope was to light upon obscure paths,
made by cattle. Meanwhile I endeavoured to adhere to one line, and to
burst through the vexatious obstacles which encumbered our way. The
ground was concealed by the bushes, and we were perplexed and fatigued
by a continual succession of hollows and prominences. At one moment we
were nearly thrown headlong into a pit. At another we struck our feet
against the angles of stones. The branches of the oak rebounded in our
faces or entangled our legs, and the unseen thorns inflicted on us a
thousand wounds. I was obliged, in these arduous circumstances, to support not only
myself, but my companion. Her strength was overpowered by her evening
journey, and the terror of being overtaken incessantly harassed her. Sometimes we lighted upon tracks which afforded us an easier footing and
inspired us with courage to proceed. These, for a time, terminated at a
brook or in a bog, and we were once more compelled to go forward at
random. One of these tracks insensibly became more beaten, and, at
length, exhibited the traces of wheels. To this I adhered, confident
that it would finally conduct us to a dwelling. On either side, the undergrowth of shrubs and brambles continued as
before. Sometimes small spaces were observed, which had lately been
cleared by fire. At length a vacant space, of larger dimensions than had
hitherto occurred, presented itself to my view. It was a field of some
acres, that had, apparently, been upturned by the hoe. At the corner of
this field was a small house. My heart leaped with joy at this sight. I hastened towards it, in the
hope that my uncertainties, and toils, and dangers, were now drawing to
a close. This dwelling was suited to the poverty and desolation which
surrounded it. It consisted of a few unhewn logs laid upon each other,
to the height of eight or ten feet, including a quadrangular space of
similar dimensions, and covered by a thatch. There was no window, light
being sufficiently admitted into the crevices between the logs. These
had formerly been loosely plastered with clay; but air and rain had
crumbled and washed the greater part of this rude cement away. Somewhat
like a chimney, built of half-burnt bricks, was perceived at one corner. The door was fastened by a leathern thong, tied to a peg. All within was silence and darkness. I knocked at the door and called,
but no one moved or answered. The tenant, whoever he was, was absent. His leave could not be obtained, and I, therefore, entered without it. The autumn had made some progress, and the air was frosty and sharp. My
mind and muscles had been of late so strenuously occupied, that the cold
had not been felt. The cessation of exercise, however, quickly restored
my sensibility in this respect, but the unhappy girl complained of being
half frozen. Fire, therefore, was the first object of my search. Happily, some embers
were found upon the hearth, together with potato-stalks and dry chips. Of these, with much difficulty, I kindled a fire, by which some warmth
was imparted to our shivering limbs. The light enabled me, as I sat upon
the ground, to survey the interior of this mansion. Three saplings,
stripped of their branches and bound together at their ends by twigs,
formed a kind of bedstead, which was raised from the ground by four
stones. Ropes stretched across these, and covered by a blanket,
constituted the bed. A board, of which one end rested on the bedstead
and the other was thrust between the logs that composed the wall,
sustained the stale fragments of a rye-loaf, and a cedar bucket kept
entire by withes instead of hoops. In the bucket was a little water,
full of droppings from the roof, drowned insects, and sand. A basket or
two neatly made, and a hoe, with a stake thrust into it by way of
handle, made up all the furniture that was visible. Next to cold, hunger was the most urgent necessity by which we were now
pressed. This was no time to give ear to scruples. We, therefore,
unceremoniously divided the bread and water between us. I had now
leisure to bestow some regards upon the future. These remnants of fire and food convinced me that this dwelling was
usually inhabited, and that it had lately been deserted. Some engagement
had probably carried the tenant abroad. His absence might be terminated
in a few minutes, or might endure through the night.