The Last of the Foresters | Page 7

splendor--and not alone in gold: in purple, and azure and crimson, with a wealth of slowly falling leaves which soon would pass away, the poor perished glories of the fair golden year. The wild geese flying South sent their faint carol from the clouds--the swamp sparrow twittered, and the still copse was stirred by the silent croak of some wandering wild turkey, or the far forest made most musical with that sound which the master of Wharncliffe Lodge delighted in, the "belling of the hart."
Verty drank in these forest sounds, and the full glories of the Autumn, rapturously--while he looked and listened, all his sadness passed away, and his wild Indian nature made him happy there, in the heart of the woods. Ever and anon, however, the events of the morning would occur to him, sweeping over his upraised brow like the shadow of a cloud, and dimming the brightness of his dreamy smiles.
"How red the maples grow!" he said, "they are burning away--and the dogwood! Poor oaks! I'm sorry for you; you are going, and I think you look like kings--going? That was what Redbud said! She was going away--going away!"
And a sigh issued from Verty's lips, which betrayed the importance he attached to Redbud's departure. Then his head drooped; and he murmured--"going away!"
Poor Verty! It does not require any very profound acuteness to divine your condition. You are one more added to the list which Leander heads in the old Grecian fable. Your speech betrays you.
"Wild geese! They are early this year. Ho, there! good companions that you are, come down and let me shoot at you. 'Crake! crake!' that is all you say--away up there in the white clouds, laughing at me, I suppose, and making fun of my bow. Listen! they are answering me from the clouds! I wish I could fly up in the clouds! Travelling, as I live, away off to the south!--leaving us to go and join their fellows. They are wild birds; I've shot many of em'. Hark, Longears! see up there! There they go--'crake! crake! crake!' I can see their long necks stretched out toward the South--they are almost gone--going away from me--like Redbud!"
And Verty sighed piteously.
"I wonder what makes my breast feel as if there was a weight upon it," he said, "I'll ask ma mere."
And putting spurs to Cloud, Verty scoured through the pine hills, and in an hour drew near his home.
It was one of those mountain huts which are frequently met with to this day in our Virginian uplands. Embowered in pines, it rather resembled, seen from a distance, the eyrie of some huge eagle, than the abode of human beings, though eagles' eyries are not generally roofed in, with poles and clapboards.
The hut was very small, but not as low pitched as usual, and the place had about it an air of wild comfort, which made it a pleasant object in the otherwise unbroken landscape of pines, and huge rocks, and browling streams which stretched around it. The door was approached by a path which wound up the hill; and a small shed behind a clump of firs was visible--apparently the residence of Cloud.
Verty carefully attended to his horse, and then ascended the hill toward the hut, from whose chimney a delicate smoke ascended.
He was met at the door by an old Indian woman, who seemed to have reached the age of three-score at least. She was clad in the ordinary linsey of the period; and the long hair falling upon her shoulders was scarcely touched with grey. She wore beads and other simple trinkets, and the expression of her countenance was very calm and collected.
Verty approached her with a bright smile, and taking her hand in his own, placed it upon his head; then saying something in the Delaware tongue, he entered the hut.
Within, the mountain dwelling was as wild as without. From the brown beams overhead were suspended strings of onions, tin vessels, bridles, dried venison, and a thousand other things, mingled in inextricable confusion. In the wide fire-place, which was supplied with stones for and-irons, a portion of the lately slaughtered deer was broiling on an impromptu and primitive species of gridiron, which would have disgusted Soyer and astonished Vatel. This had caused the smoke; and as Verty entered, the old woman had been turning the slices. Longears and Wolf were already stretched before the fire, their eyes fixed upon the venison with admiring attention and profound seriousness.
In ten minutes the venison was done, and Verty and his mother ate in silence--Verty not forgetting his dogs, who growled and contended for the pieces, and then slept upon the rude pine floor.
The boy then went to some shelves in the corner, just by the narrow flight of steps which led to the old woman's