m
 
 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 
 
 GEOKQE H. DEYEKEUX. 
 
 ..-, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY KURD AND HOUGHTON. 
 
 1871.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 
 
 GEORGE H. DEVEREUX, 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE : 
 
 STEEEOTTPED AND PRINTED BT 
 
 H. 0. HOTJGHTON AND COMPANY.
 
 PEEFAOE 
 
 THIS volume is a simple outgrowth of the expe- 
 rience of ten years of my own life. In early man- 
 hood, circumstances led me into the very bosom of 
 such scenes as are here described. Their novelty, as 
 well as their peculiar and intrinsic interest, made a 
 strong impression upon my mind. I was irresistibly 
 led, from time to time, to make disjointed sketches of 
 incidents that were to me full of curiosity and in- 
 struction.. Long after my return to a very different 
 physical and social sphere, these fragments of an era 
 in my existence pleasant while it was passing, and 
 agreeable to remember acquired a new value to 
 my feelings. I felt an inclination to connect them to- 
 gether in a symmetrical shape, as a child strings its 
 treasured beads upon a thread. 
 
 I now place it before the public, hoping it may 
 afford some instruction and pleasure to others ; as the 
 real life, of which it is intended to be a picture, did, 
 in a large measure, to myself. 
 
 As to the execution of the work, the only thing 
 which it becomes me to say is, that it has been made 
 
 2063467
 
 2 SAM SHI11K: 
 
 The natural features of the State are romantic and 
 interesting beyond most regions not strictly Alpine ; 
 and its remoter sections abound in the rough grandeur 
 of mountain scenery. Long granitic headlands run 
 out from every part of the coast far into the ocean, 
 forming, between their huge projecting masses, shel- 
 tered harbors, broad bays, and the spreading estuaries 
 of numerous streams. Beyond the beetling cliffs and 
 shingly beaches that terminate the wild and rocky 
 promontories, the jagged coast is belted often to sea- 
 ward by islands shaggy with precipices, and nodding 
 with dark forests of gnarled spruces, bearing, in their 
 bent and twisted trunks and broken tops, frequent 
 marks of their severe struggles with the ocean storms. 
 Black and threatening ledges peer out among the wa- 
 ters, where the surges break incessantly, and wild sea- 
 birds flit and scream amid the uproar of the waves and 
 winds. Upon these shores there dwells a population 
 appropriate to sucli a home, sturdy, rough, adven- 
 turous, winning fearlessly from the ocean the supply 
 of those moderate wants which the rough and difficult 
 soil but scantily provides for. The white sails of fish- 
 ing boats, coasting craft, and freighting vessels of larger 
 size, enliven the inland bays and coves, or spread their 
 wings in the offing, upon errands that take them over 
 every part of the inhabited globe. 
 
 The northern portion of the State lies still in un- 
 broken forests, whose solitudes are uninterrupted, ex- 
 cept by the hunter and the lumberman, and which bury 
 the land, to the rivers and lakes of Canada, in the 
 deep shadow of a primeval vegetation. Below this re- 
 gion is a gradually shaded belt of human life, exhibiting 
 successively every varying degree of refinement of 
 which civilized existence is capable, from the sturdy
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 3 
 
 backwoodsman, scarcely conscious of the existence of 
 books, newspapers, or any of the wants of advanced 
 communities, and perfectly content to find all that he 
 needs in the forest which is his home, down to the 
 wealthy and luxurious dwellers in the maritime cities. 
 
 This population is spread out, from the rude log- 
 huts nestled among the pines and beeches, through 
 the little villages clustered around the cross-roads or 
 the water-falls and saw-mills, down to the thriving 
 towns and busy sea-ports. Every hour's ride changes 
 its peculiarities with the equally changing aspects of 
 art and nature with which it is surrounded. 
 
 Thus the traveller may start in the morning from 
 the wooded inland hills, where the deer and the par- 
 tridge, the bear and the wolf, still keep their native 
 home, and, passing through every successive phase of 
 civilization, sleep at night within hearing of the roar 
 of the Atlantic, where daily reports from London and 
 Paris feed the restless curiosity and minister to the ar- 
 tificial habits of wealth and worldliness. 
 
 All along the path, from the mysterious solitudes, 
 still wrapt in the solemn quiet of undisturbed nature, 
 to cities neither ignorant of the forms nor innocent of 
 the follies and vices of the highest refinement, the eye 
 rests upon huge hills and elevated ridges, intersected 
 with deep and sheltered valleys, along which clear and 
 rapid streams roll and tumble over the broken sur- 
 faces, and among which countless bright and wood- 
 bordered lakes spread out their broad, sunny bosoms. 
 The blue tops of distant mountains and the dark-green 
 curtains of yet unmolested woodlands form the bor- 
 ders of the varied picture. 
 
 Here the sportsman may still find the moose, bear, 
 red deer, wolf, fox, and partridge in the woods, and
 
 4 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 the delicious trout in the brooks. Here the natural- 
 ist has an unexplored field of discovery, where objects 
 of curiosity and interest will reward his search ; and 
 the mere idler will see novel and picturesque scenes 
 of the animate and material world, to refresh his spirits 
 and stimulate his intellect. 
 
 In the eastern section of this State, there lies, upon 
 the little river Narraguagus, a village whose reality 
 we will thinly disguise under the name of Merrifield. 
 At the present time, the neat dwellings of nearly three 
 thousand inhabitants extend, for a mile or more, on 
 either side of the stream. But, at the time occupied 
 by our story, in the latter part of the last century, it 
 was a rude hamlet, but just redeemed from the closely 
 surrounding forest. 
 
 The enterprise of the early settlers of Massachusetts 
 soon explored the extended coast of the then depend- 
 ent Province of Maine, and made settlements, both 
 temporary and permanent, in favorable situations 
 within its borders. But the disputes as to proprie- 
 torship among the English themselves, combined with 
 its remoteness from the Bay Colony and the vicinity 
 of enemies or doubtful friends, rendered the increase of 
 population slow. Especially did these circumstances 
 retard the settlement of the country east of the Penob- 
 scot River, to the sovereignty of which France long 
 maintained pretensions. At the date of the Revolu- 
 tion, the English establishments in this quarter were 
 insignificant and recent. Here and there a straggling 
 village Merrifield among the rest began to dis- 
 place the wilderness, where some peculiar facilities for 
 fishing or Hmbering invited immigration. The roads 
 between these infant settlements were mere paths 
 through the forest. Even now they are confined, in
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 5 
 
 the eastern district, within a zone of twenty or thirty 
 miles from the sea-board. These little communities 
 were very much isolated from the rest of the world, 
 their chief intercourse with which was maintained by 
 trading voyages of small coasting craft. The forest, 
 with its indigenous inhabitants, pressed closely around 
 them. The remnants of the native tribes still roamed 
 in the woods ; and straggling parties of Canadian In- 
 dians occasionally prolonged the open hostilities of an 
 earlier day, by stealthy incursions for petty plundering. 
 The security and comforts of advanced stages of soci- 
 ety were yet imperfectly known ; they were, indeed, 
 scarcely thought of by a population which had very 
 little practical knowledge of their advantages. 
 
 This little village of Merrifield was possessed of one 
 of those vagabond characters not uncommon in new 
 places, where society is composed of odds and ends of 
 all sorts, not yet consolidated into symmetrical order 
 a sort of human waif, owning nothing and belonging 
 to nobody, half-way between a public nuisance and a 
 public necessity. Sam Shirk was as familiar as day- 
 light to all Merrifield; and there was no person or 
 thing in the village that was not equally well known 
 to him. 
 
 His father had been killed by the fall of a tree in 
 the " logging swamp," and left his well-disposed, but 
 weak-minded widow to get along in the world as she 
 could, with her orphaned boy. The rough but cordial 
 pity of the neighbors supplied her, from their rude 
 abundance, with food sufficient ; and she did what she 
 could, in a place where everybody did their own 
 work, to find clothing and other comforts for herself 
 ,and child. A bushel of potatoes or corn was seldom 
 grudged to the mute eloquence of her pale and dis-
 
 6 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 consolate face by most of the villagers, who, though 
 not burdened with superfluities, had an abundance of 
 such articles as they professed to have at all. Yet 
 there were many gaps, in the economy of the little 
 household, that were hard for the lone woman to fill. 
 What activity and energy nature had bestowed upon 
 her, were insufficient for the cheerless struggle of a 
 broken life. The poor mother gradually wore out, in 
 the anxious but feeble endeavor to cope with the dif- 
 ficulties that crushed her yielding spirit. Her neigh- 
 bors buried her decently ; and the often repeated 
 remark, that " Miss Shirk hadn't much sprawl, and 
 wasn't good for nothing at all, after her husband died," 
 epitomized the history of her sad and humble existence. 
 
 So little Sam was left, at ten years old, alone in the 
 world ; for his parents had immigrated from a distant 
 place, and what relatives they might have had, lost all 
 knowledge, if not all memory, of them and their for- 
 tunes. The luckless child inherited from his parents, 
 then, nothing but some of their personal peculiari- 
 ties ; and this ancestral property was not in itself 
 very valuable. The active industry and shrewd but 
 uncultivated capacity of his father were diluted, by the 
 feeble indolence of his other progenitor, into an aim- 
 less and unproductive restlessness, which, though not 
 precisely laziness, never developed into industry, and, 
 though always ready for any desultory and impulsive 
 exertion, was decidedly repugnant to any systematic 
 labor. This unfortunate trait probably prevented 
 the urchin from obtaining any permanent foothold in 
 some charitable household, where wholesome discipline 
 might have shaped his ill-sorted faculties into practical 
 usefulness. 
 
 As it was, he wandered about the little circle of the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 1 
 
 neighborhood, now here, now there, and sometimes 
 apparently either everywhere or nowhere, it was 
 hard to say which. He grew up, of course, in all 
 manner of unprofitable oddities, as human beings 
 must that grow wild and uncared for. 
 
 Without a particle of learning, for, in his help- 
 lessness, necessity had taught him to scorn all super- 
 fluities, the boy became a thorough-going and prac- 
 tical stoic, a genuine follower of Zeno. The sage 
 inquiry of the old philosopher " Cui bono ? " was 
 always upon his lips ; not, indeed, in Latin, but as Sam 
 was wont to phrase it, " What's the use ? " This 
 was his unfailing answer to all reproach, and the all- 
 sufficient reply to remonstrance or advice. To live, 
 was all he asked of the world ; and he gave in return 
 just what he asked, nothing at all, or thereabouts. 
 
 In fact, for most useful purposes, Sam was a cipher : 
 he stood at zero in the social scale. And yet, like 
 other things in this well-ordered world, he did not live 
 for nothing. He did a thousand insignificant things, 
 that nobody else could or would do ; and he kept the 
 neighborhood in good humor by a genial slang and ready 
 wit, that gushed spontaneously from his untaxed and 
 vagrant readiness, as brilliant, though perhaps coarse 
 weeds sprout from a strong and neglected soil. 
 
 His tongue seemed to have taken upon contract 
 all the work and responsibilities of his other members, 
 and was as active as the rest were slothful. If it did 
 not in fact do their labor, it stood ready at least with 
 a quaint apology for its not being done. 
 
 If good for little or nothing himself, Shirk was an 
 all-pervading bond of union to his own little world. 
 He found out everybody's business, and told it to their 
 neighbors. He knew every nook in the village, and
 
 8 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 spied out all the small gossip that was afloat. Thus 
 he served pretty much the purposes of a daily newspa- 
 per ; and in the absence of any competition in this line, 
 his services were invaluable. If he sometimes set peo- 
 ple by the ears with his tattle, he still oftener pre- 
 vented or cured dissension by his absurd and humor- 
 ous mediations ; so that he had, on the whole, one 
 decided advantage over modern journalism, which is 
 not apt to sacrifice piquancy to charity or prudence. 
 
 Compelled, like a rat or any other parasite of civil- 
 ization, to live upon society as he best could, he would 
 patiently live on nothing, when there was nothing to 
 be had ; and when, by good luck, he got into comfort- 
 able quarters, he furnished his interior plentifully, and 
 drew upon his deposits until Providence sent him a 
 fresh supply. 
 
 But among these simple but comfortable homesteads 
 there was always food to spare for chance necessities ; 
 and, if nature had furnished him with clothing gratis, 
 Sam would have been to use his own expression 
 " as independent as a musk-rat." But here was a trying 
 point. Clothes would wear out ; and when they fairly 
 dropped off, he was compelled, of sheer necessity, to 
 achieve the acquisition of a new garment. In allevia- 
 tion, however, of this unfortunate consequence of the 
 loss of man's primeval innocence, he had an astonish- 
 ing gift of contentment. He could wear his winter 
 jacket till midsummer, its gradual dilapidation adapt- 
 ing itself pretty regularly to the advancing tempera- 
 ture of the weather, and, when its last remnant 
 deserted him, would appear in some new summer garb, 
 that he had contrived to beg, borrow, or buy. This 
 served the turn till time and winter again compelled him, 
 like a snake, with pain and trouble, to cast off his skin
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 9 
 
 and provide himself with a new one. His garb could 
 always boast a picturesqueness that relieved it from 
 the reproach of stiffness, so often cast upon the fashion 
 of modern masculine attire. He generally wore coats 
 and pantaloons of grotesque and inconsistent propor- 
 tions, adapted to his chances of buying or begging 
 more than to his person ; and his costume was com- 
 monly completed by hat or cap, shoes or boots, that 
 looked as if they had made the tour of the world, and 
 brought back some mark of wear and tear or acquired 
 peculiarity from every country they had visited. 
 
 Yet, through all this vagabond life and pinched ex- 
 istence, poor Sam kept up a warm and light heart and 
 an honest one. His moral deductions could hardly be 
 expected to be of the most rigid or enlightened order. 
 Yet no temptation could have been successfully of- 
 fered, even to his utter destitution, to commit an act 
 that he felt to be dishonest or mean. In all his pov- 
 erty of social consideration, he had the confidence and 
 good- will and a certain kind of respect of all who 
 knew him ; and he deserved it ; for want had neither 
 soured nor corrupted him. 
 
 Such was Sam Shirk, when he had attained in this 
 disjointed fashion his early manhood ; and his occu- 
 pation was to do as nearly nothing as could well be 
 contrived. He sat about mostly in .the sun, or by the 
 stoves in the little shops, and made small carts, wind- 
 mills, or wooden swords for the children ; sometimes 
 getting an equivalent in gingerbread, but equally ready 
 to minister to their demands, with or without reward. 
 In this line of business he was unrivaled. He could 
 whittle down a lath quicker, smooth up a bat neater, 
 and make a chip boat better than any man in all 
 " Down-east."
 
 10 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 Sam was one day tempted, in order to compass the 
 purchase of a new knife, which he especially coveted, 
 to do a little work with a barrow for the shop-keeper 
 who had it for sale. After trundling backward and 
 forward for some time, he began to tire somewhat of 
 his job. But he was a man of his word, and never 
 balked a fair bargain. So, compromising between con- 
 science and weakness of the flesh, he seated himself 
 in the shade of the store for it was warm weather 
 to indulge in some faint regrets of his rash ambi- 
 tion and refresh his heated body. His barrow, mean- 
 while, was left in the middle of the track, for it could 
 hardly be called a road. It so happened that, while 
 he was thus taking his ease, old Deacon Butler's widow 
 came along that way on horseback, the most usual 
 and convenient mode of travel on the rough roads of 
 
 O 
 
 new settlements. The widow's mare, having an al- 
 lowance of oats in large proportion to her work, 
 chanced to feel in a frisky humor ; and set off with 
 the old lady at a pace far beyond the dignified and 
 steady trot to which she had been trained for years, 
 while she bore about the revered person of the de- 
 ceased Deacon. In vain did her mistress, relying on 
 long acquaintance and the sober habits of the steed, 
 pull at the reins and ejaculate, "Whoa, Dobbin, 
 whoa." At every twitch the unruly mare quickened 
 her pace. Perhaps she could not discriminate between 
 the restraining exertions of the dame and the constant 
 jerkings with which her old master habitually re- 
 galed her mouth every time he rose in his stirrups. 
 At any rate, Dobbin's legs went on in an andante 
 measure astonishing to the spectators who knew the 
 animal's general character. From rapid trot to canter, 
 and from canter to gallop, away she went, winding
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 11 
 
 among the rocks and stumps and dashing through or 
 leaping over the holes and sloughs. Never, since colt- 
 hood, had she dreamed of running such a rig before. 
 
 Bounce, bounce went the old lady, from her saddle 
 to the mare's neck and from the mare's neck to the 
 saddle again. At length, the oscillations from the cen- 
 tre of gravity became so extreme as to threaten imme- 
 diate dissolution of copartnership between the horse 
 and rider ; when, luckily, the beast came plump upon 
 Sam's wheelbarrow. The sight of this obstacle some- 
 what sobered her pace ; till, as she checked herself to 
 consider whether, on the whole, it was worth while 
 to jump over it for the sake of continuing the frolic, 
 her mind was suddenly made up upon the point, by 
 Sam's broad hand upon the bridle. 
 
 Now the dame was kind-hearted and charitable, and 
 gratitude for Sam's timely interposition came in aid of 
 her sympathy for his wretchedly shabby appearance. 
 
 " Sammooel," said she, " you have, under Provi- 
 dence, saved me from great danger, and I will re- 
 ward you. Come up to my house to-night, when 
 work is over." 
 
 " What's the use, ma'am ? " replied Sam. " 'Twan't 
 no trouble to me ; 'tan't worth talking about." 
 
 " O come up, Sammooel ; it will be worth your 
 while. Come up when your work's done." 
 
 " Well, ma'am, I'll come if you say so. Arter 
 I'm done with this consarned job, I'll come when 
 you say." 
 
 " Well, come up and get your supper, and I will 
 talk with you about something to your advantage." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am. But somehow or other I han't 
 never found much to my advantage yet. Things is 
 always contrary with me. It an't the natur on me to
 
 12 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 get along as some folks does ; and the reason on't I 
 think may be " 
 
 " Well, well, Sammooel, we'll talk it over to- 
 night. Now turn the old mare round and lead her 
 over that bad hole ; and let me see whether she will 
 go home, like a decent beast, as I always took her to 
 be." 
 
 " O ma'am, appearances is desateful. Accidents 
 will happen. And fact, ma'am, if I lived as easy 
 as the old mare, seems to me, I should feel like raisin' 
 Cain about all the time." 
 
 " Well, Sammooel, I must go along. Let go the 
 bridle now."
 
 4. TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 As Dame Butler jogged off homeward, Shirk's 
 philosophy, having no longer an audience, returned to 
 its perch in the shade of the store, and held commu- 
 nion with itself. 
 
 " Now," said he to himself " there's one advan- 
 tage in taking things easy. My wheelbarrow saved 
 the old lady's getting throw'd off; and she'll give me 
 a pound o' tobakker or some sich matter. But it's 
 some ways up to her house, and I don't know as I'd 
 go for a pound o' tobakker. But then she might think 
 I wasn't perlite ; and, besides, I promised, and a bar- 
 gin's a bargin." 
 
 So the latter part of the afternoon found him upon 
 the road ; and, after some dozen halts to inform every- 
 body he met, how " the widder's mare had run 
 away, and how his barrow had stopt her, and how he 
 was going to get a pound o' tobakker or some sich 
 likes," he reached his destination at last, in time for 
 the early meal that closed the clay. 
 
 He found the careful dame employed, with a young 
 girl that she kept as "help," in baking the bread and 
 brewing a " dish of tea." The Indian corn cakes soon 
 smoked upon the board, supported by a huge plate of 
 boiled potatoes and salt fish. Without any ceremony 
 the trio sat down to the meal, to which Sam, at least, 
 did full justice. After their appetites were sated, the
 
 14 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 matron drew her chair aside, while her damsel cleared 
 away the relics of the repast. Her guest's eyes fol- 
 lowed each dish, as it retired, as if he wished that his 
 capacity for containing could have been enlarged in 
 their favor ; for so comfortable a chance was, to him, 
 of dubious recurrence. 
 
 " Now, Sam," said the widow ; and, as she com- 
 menced, her auditor, assuming a look of attention, pre- 
 pared himself for the session by some manoeuvres es- 
 sential in his mind to the occasion. First, he drew 
 from his pocket a short, smutty pipe, which he knocked 
 upside down against the mantel-bar to clear it of ashes. 
 Then, depositing it by his side, he drew up a square 
 block that served as a chimney-corner seat, and, es- 
 tablishing himself thereupon, produced from the same 
 pouch a hand of tobacco and the new knife. This 
 latter he eyed for a moment on one side, then 
 turned it and examined the other. Next, he slowly 
 opened the blade, and renewed, upon the steel, the in- 
 spection the handle had already undergone. Your 
 regular whittler always examines his knife, with care- 
 ful gravity, every time he takes it in hand. Not that 
 he is likely to make any discoveries, for he does it 
 twenty times a day. It is a little piece of coquetry 
 that probably gives the same pleasure a dandy receives 
 from stroking a moustache, or a lady in toying with 
 her curls. At any rate, Sam looked his knife all over, 
 and with especial complacency, as it was a new acqui- 
 sition ; for the fruits of his labors were not so abun- 
 dant as to have deadened by frequency the soft titilla- 
 tions of the bump of acquisitiveness. This ceremony 
 performed, he cut a bit of tobacco, crumbled it in his 
 palm, and loading his pipe, laid a small coal thereon, 
 with the help of a chip. When two or three puffs
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 15 
 
 had insured successful combustion, he edged himself 
 into the corner of the broad fire-place, that the smoke 
 might not incommode his hostess, and began vigorously 
 to dispense to his nostrils a cloud of the fragrant vapor. 
 There remained yet one other requisite to complete a 
 perfectly felicitous arrangement. This was readily 
 supplied by a small cedar rift that lay among the little 
 pile of fuel at one end of the hearth. Sam seized 
 upon this ; and squatting upon his block, laid it out 
 straight between his knees, one end on the floor, the 
 other grasped in his left hand. Applying the bright 
 knife-blade to the upper end of the fissile wood, he 
 paused for a moment and looked up at his companion, 
 as much as to say, " Now for it." 
 
 The knife moved up and down, regular as the pis- 
 ton of a steam-engine ; and as the long slivers piled 
 up rapidly at his feet, the conversation thus proceeded. 
 
 " Now, Sam, who would have thought of the old 
 mare's running away ! A little more, and she would 
 have broken my neck." 
 
 " She did go like stashey," quoth Sam. Who or 
 what this queerly baptized illustrative might be, we 
 can't say ; and we do presume Sam couldn't. 
 
 " Yes, Sammooel, she went terrible fast, and I be- 
 gan to be afeard. I feel under obligations to you for 
 stopping her , and I want to do something for you. I 
 don't think you lead a creditable life, Sammooel." 
 
 " Ahem ! " grunted out her auditor. The grunt 
 was about equally compounded of surprise and indig- 
 nation, with perhaps a dash of reluctant assent. Hav- 
 ing no special defense prepared, he thus prudently 
 passed the matter over for the time, under protest. 
 
 " Take it kind now, Sammooel. Don't you think 
 it would be more decent and comfortable to have a
 
 16 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 home of your own, and do something for yourself, and 
 goto meetin', and have good clothes, and keep your face 
 clean ? Don't you think it would, Sammooel ? " 
 
 The old lady here paused, and looked with eager ex- 
 pectation for some demonstration of interest from 
 her companion in such a brilliant summary of good 
 fortune. But she looked in vain. The sparkle of her 
 own eyes was not reflected in those of her auditor. 
 Sam's eyes, on the contrary, fastened themselves upon 
 the chimney -back ; as if the battered bricks could help 
 him to a solution of such grave and perplexing ques- 
 tions. The knife stopped for a moment of profound 
 meditation. The point having been carefully revolved 
 in his mind, the knife resumed its motion ; and he an- 
 nounced his own ideas on the subject as follows : 
 
 " Now I've sumthin' of an idee, that the more folks 
 has, the more they wants. If they only know'd when 
 they'd got enough, they needn't be workin' and wor- 
 ryin' all the time. What's the use on't ? I don't 
 raly stand in need o' them things. I an't necessiated 
 for nothing, only now and then, leastwise. Some 
 folks wants to be plaguin' themselves about forty-eleven 
 things all the time. Now I don't, and " 
 
 "But, Sammooel," interrupted the widow, for 
 she well knew Sam's harangue might not come to an 
 end very speedily, unless it was chopped off short, 
 " suppose I should give you the little place down by 
 Jim Sharp's : it's got a log-house and a well and a pig- 
 sty, and you can cut some logs and build a barn, 
 and it's part fenced already, and you can soon make 
 it so snug ! " 
 
 The good dame's eyes lighted up once more with 
 benevolent anticipation, as she watched the effect of 
 this coup de main upon the obdurate Sam ; and this 
 time not without the desired response.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 17 
 
 It would never have entered his head to have earned 
 a farm hy his own labor ; or, if it had, he would as 
 soon have seriously thought of drinking up the Narra- 
 guagus. But to get one for nothing, to become a 
 man of property without lifting a finger! Mammon 
 carried the day, and his vagabond philosophy gave in. 
 To do him justice, too, a higher and better feeling 
 was mingled with the exultation of this most unex- 
 pected advancement. So light-hearted and unrepining 
 as Sam had been through the dreary days of his 
 cheerless youth, his neighbors, when they thought at 
 all about it, probably half believed that he was indif- 
 ferent to blessings he had never known. And in some 
 measure he was so. For a merciful Providence has 
 given to long habit and use a remedial power, which 
 can blunt the keen edge of annoyance, and even 
 sometimes gradually turn a weary burden into an al- 
 most grateful necessity. Sorrow gets at last to be an 
 old acquaintance, whose comings and goings are little 
 regarded, and whose ugly face may come even to be 
 missed with a degree of uneasy disturbance. Sam 
 himself hardly knew the extent of his deprivations ; 
 but occasional painful glimpses into brighter hearts told 
 him now and then, if but faintly, how blank and dull 
 was his own. Some token of a kind father's care or 
 the soft words of some fond mother now and then 
 brought a vague pain to his careless spirit, even if 
 he himself knew neither the reason nor the cause of 
 it. He carried, along with his apathetic contentment, 
 a smothered feeling that he had not in life all that life 
 owed him ; that he was tolerated rather than wel- 
 comed; and that, though he was nowhere treated 
 with unkindness, there were daily feasts of love for 
 others, while to him were only swept some careless
 
 18 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 crumbs. Never before, for long years, had a human 
 voice spoken a personal and warm interest for him. 
 Never, since his almost lost recollections of his moth- 
 er's pale and listless face, had he seen a human being 
 bend upon him a look of heartfelt kindness, or testify 
 for him a wish to do more than relieve some petty 
 want of the passing moment. It was a sudden burst 
 of sunshine upon the leaden sky of his unblessed exist- 
 ence. A feeling of astonishment, almost of awe, at 
 finding himself within the pale of sympathy and affec- 
 tion, succeeded the first natural burst of joyous 
 surprise. He sat still for a moment, and struggling 
 tears rolled down his bronzed cheeks. He jumped up 
 nervously from his block, dropped the cedar rift, shut 
 up his knife and put it into his pocket. Having gained 
 time by these preliminaries to meet the unexpected 
 emergency with some shadow of propriety, he boiled 
 over in a half blubber, half shout, 
 
 " Will you, though ? Good on yer head ! It 
 would be clever to have a place to myself where I 
 could do as I had a mind'ter. But then " his face 
 lengthening "there'll be a tarnal sight of work to 
 do ! " and Sam sighed deeply with the sudden conflict 
 awakened between ambition and indolence. 
 
 " Besides, you can have a privilege in my wood-lot 
 behind," added Mrs. Butler, following him up hard; 
 " and I'll give you one of my sow-pigs too ; and you 
 can come up here and get the wash for it every day 
 till you get settled." 
 
 Sam now surrendered at discretion. " It's a bar- 
 gin," said he, "'and thank you kindly. I'll see 
 what I can do at farmin' a spell." 
 
 " Then," replied his benefactress, " here's a deed 
 of the place, Sammooel," putting at the same time 
 the document into his hand.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 19 
 
 Shirk took it with a grin of delight. But uncultivated 
 Yankees seldom act upon Sancho's delicate maxim, 
 " not to look the gift horse in the mouth." The value 
 of a thing must be carefully settled by arithmetical 
 rule, before they can quietly enjoy it as their own. 
 Sam read over his deed with labor and pains, and with 
 as much care to ascertain its validity as if he had paid 
 for it with many a dollar. Having spent many idle 
 hours in lounging about the justice's courts holden 
 from time to time in the old log school-house, he had 
 picked up a smattering of legal terms and some few 
 truths among more errors'. The scrutiny of the deed 
 elicited, however, no suspicion or objection. It bore 
 at the bottom the countersign of Squire Preston, who, 
 of the rival lawyers of the village, was Sam's oracle ; 
 and, like wiser men, Sam rested his faith, perhaps, 
 more on authorities than on pure law. So he pocketed 
 the paper, and expressed again his gratitude as he re- 
 filled his pipe. 
 
 " Well, ma'am good on yer head, I say agin. 
 Not that I arned it of ye I'm bound to ye for't. 
 And I hope it won't be no shame to neither on us. 
 And now I guess I'll be goin' ; for it's gittin' late and 
 it's sumthin' of a walk." 
 
 " Well, Sammooel, you must try to be industrious 
 and you'll do well." 
 
 Sam winced a little at the thought of the new sys- 
 tem to which he was so suddenly pledged. The im- 
 age of potato-fields to be hoed under hot suns some- 
 what qualified his happier anticipations. But the 
 dignity of proprietorship bore him up against the un- 
 welcome part of the prospect ; and he already felt 
 something of the stimulus and the energy with which 
 the hope and pride of independence inspires the labor-
 
 20 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 ing classes in a free land. His gypsy theories van- 
 ished in the light of higher prospects, as uneasy 
 dreams disappear with the broad daylight. He re- 
 solved to try the policy of labor and thrift, with no 
 other reservation but to do no more of the first than 
 was necessary to secure the last ; and among the des- 
 ultory fruits of his vagrant experience was that prac- 
 tical ingenuity which often makes so tolerable a substi- 
 tute for hard work. Visions of plenteous meals and 
 comfortable firesides, even of a Mrs. Sam Shirk and 
 a quantum suff. of little Shirks, dawned upon his 
 awakened fancy. A melodious grunt from without 
 doors recalled him to earth and reality, in the remem- 
 brance of the pig that was to crown the widow's 
 bounty. 
 
 " You han't got no rope to lend me to drive the 
 critter with have ye, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sammooel you may take that piece that 
 hangs up on the peg behind the door." 
 
 Equipped with the rope, Sam sallied out, and soon 
 noosing his prize, departed in triumph amid the loud 
 grunting and squealing of his prisoner and her sym- 
 pathizing relatives. Between coaxing and whipping 
 he drove his obstinate companion to his new dwelling ; 
 for he had determined to move in instanter. The 
 lack of furniture and utensils troubled him but little ; 
 for his wants were few and simple, and his expedients 
 many. 
 
 So he turned the pig into the kitchen for the time, 
 and, shutting her in, collected a few armfuls of the deli- 
 cate spray of the silver fir, wherewith he made himself 
 a bed perfectly to his mind, in the other apartment of 
 the house. " I suppose," said he to himself, " I'd 
 ought'r set a chunk o' wood or a stone agin that 'ere
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 21 
 
 door, afore I turn in. But it's got to be dark out, and 
 it an't much use. I guess the pig won't try to get 
 away." Without further to do, he laid himself down ; 
 and his happy turn of luck filling his brain with pleas- 
 ant fancies, he and the pig were soon rivaling each 
 other in musical evidences of slumber. 
 
 The worthy widow, too, went to rest, happy in the 
 unselfish joy of a benevolent heart ; and the golden 
 pen of the recording angel wrote down in immortal 
 characters a blessed deed that might have balanced an 
 ase of sin.
 
 22 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ABOUT the middle of the next forenoon, Sara again 
 made his appearance at the widow's, evidently looking 
 rather sheepish, though he endeavored to maintain his 
 usual air of listless unconcern. 
 
 " Sammooel," said the dame, looking up from the 
 tub in which she was preparing the potatoes for din- 
 ner, "you ought to have come sooner for the wash. 
 Pigs are creaturs that must be fed regular, to thrive." 
 
 Sam looked still more blank and silly at this ad- 
 dress. He stopped and picked up a chip ; took out 
 his knife, and began to whittle out a duck's head. 
 Then he threw it away, as if dissatisfied with his 
 work, and, picking up another chip, commenced 
 anew. At last, gathering courage, he observed, with 
 seeming coolness, " I've concluded to part with the 
 pig, ma'am, to Jem Sharp." 
 
 "Part with the pig!" screamed out the indignant 
 widow ; " and so, Sammooel, that's the way you treat 
 friends ! Sell the pig I gave you only last night ! " 
 
 " No, ma'am," said Sam, straightening up, " not 
 so bad as that quite. I han't told you exactly." 
 
 " What then, Sam ? " 
 
 " Why, the long and short on't is, I didn't fasten 
 her up as I'd ought'r ; and she got out and killed two 
 of Jem's hens and his great red rooster." 
 
 " Well, now, that was dreadful keerless ; but 
 what's that got to do with selling her ? "
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 23 
 
 " Nothin', ma'am. But Jem said he'd sue me un- 
 less I gin him the pig. As 'twan't no use to go to 
 law, I let him have her." 
 
 " What ! " said the old lady, nowise better 
 pleased, "give that pig for two hens and a rooster! 
 'Twas as handsome a pig as ever I raised. Sam, 
 you're a fool ! " 
 
 Sam looked, indeed, very much like what he was so 
 summarily set down for, but still stood on the defense. 
 
 " Well, ma'am, may be I am. But Squire Preston 
 himself would tell you 'twas an ugly fix. The pig was 
 fairly cotch a-trespassin', and 'twould have been 
 trespass querry clossum," added he, in a dignified 
 tone, " and Squire Preston would say so. If I'd a 
 stood Jem, I should sartin have been throwed ; for 
 Jem's two boys swore they see her catch 'em. So 
 he'd a got the costs on to me ; and the pig wouldn't 
 have paid 'em, to sell her twice over." 
 
 " And has Jem got the pig now ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am. And I've got a receipt in full of all 
 damages," said Sam, exchanging his demure tone of 
 apology for a more self-satisfied one. I know'd what 
 was wanted there, anyhow." 
 
 He then handed, for her inspection, a paper folded 
 over to an inch square, which, being opened, displayed, 
 in an odd mixture of printing and writing letters, the 
 following tenor : 
 
 " Valloo received and I hereby release and discharge 
 Sam Shirk from two hens and one red rooster and all 
 other dets, doos and demands to date. 
 
 " JEM. SHARP." 
 
 " There, ma'am," says Sam, triumphantly, " you 
 can't say that an't regolar, nohow."
 
 24 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 The widow made no answer, but turning over the 
 paper, saw with surprise her own name upon the back, 
 in the identical wandering characters with which she 
 was wont to achieve her signature. 
 
 " Why, Sam ! " screamed she in new alarm ; 
 " you've torn the deed." 
 
 " Why, yes, ma'am. We hadn't no paper, and I 
 jest tore off a strip : it didn't take but one line o' the 
 writin', and it couldn't hurt the vartoo on't." 
 
 " One line, to be sure ! And that was my signa- 
 ture, and now it isn't good for anything." 
 
 " But then you won't go to dispute it," replied Sam, 
 with a little alarm in his own tones. " You wouldn't, 
 I'm sartin ; and if you don't, who can ? That's law, I 
 know." 
 
 " No, Sam, I won't dispute it ; I'll get Squire Pres- 
 ton to make another ; but you must pay for it, to cure 
 you of your keerlessness." 
 
 " Now what's the use ? I'm satisfied, and it's good 
 agin everybody but you, I know. I should have to 
 work for the Squire a whole day." Sam's face grew 
 very long with the anticipation. But Mrs. Butler 
 saw that it was high time to take the management of 
 matters into her own hands, and announced to him her 
 design accordingly. 
 
 " Well, Sammooel, w^e'll go and see the Squire, and 
 he shall make Jem give up the pig. I an't going to 
 have him cheat you so, that's certain." 
 
 " Cheat me ! " cried Sam, growing warm in turn 
 " cheat me ! No, that he didn't, nor no other man in 
 'Guagus don't do it. I can hoe my row with any man 
 on the footstool. Besides," continued he, working 
 himself up to a pitch of wrath and obstinacy at such 
 offensive insinuations, " I gin him the pig, and a
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 25 
 
 bargin's a bargin ; and 'tan't best to say no more about 
 it." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Sammooel. I shan't hear of 
 any such thing as Jem's having her ; and, if you an't 
 going to behave yourself, I don't know as I'll give you 
 a new deed of the place. I thought you knew bet- 
 ter." 
 
 Shirk now found matters were getting serious ; and 
 prudently acquiesced in accompanying the widow to 
 the Squire's, carrying at her command, in a basket 
 covered with a towel, two hens and a gentleman-bird 
 of the same species. The Squire, having been duly 
 informed upon the case and received the instructions 
 of his client, set off at once, in company with Sam and 
 his basket, upon his embassage to Sharp. Sam felt 
 rather small about the business ; and announced to the 
 Squire that he would sit down in the " door-yard " in 
 custody of the feathered part of the concern, and await 
 the issue of his negotiations. 
 
 The lawyer found Jem as cool as a cucumber, in 
 full faith of having gotten the advantage, and with, 
 firm intent to keep it. But the threatened displeasure 
 of Dame Butler, backed with some weighty legal sug- 
 gestions and a formal tender of the cock and hens, which 
 were admitted, after many demurs, to equal the victims 
 of the pig's malfeasance in all excellent hen-like qual- 
 ities, staggered Sharp's determination a little. He 
 felt that he was no match for the Squire, and was like 
 to get into bad odor at the least ; and a hint of a chap- 
 ter in the statute-book concerning swindling and sim- 
 ilar topics, finally effected the desired arrangement. 
 The fowls were turned out among Jem's stock, and 
 the pig released and safely shut up in the pig-sty upon 
 Sam's contiguous premises ; and both parties were
 
 26 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 thus placed in statu quo ante bellum a more fortu- 
 nate termination than is found for most human contro- 
 versies. 
 
 As they retraced their steps, Shirk, anxious to re- 
 trieve his character in the eyes of his companion, ven- 
 tured to boast of the legal acumen displayed in the 
 release, as he had done with the widow. 
 
 " You can't say nothin' agin the release part on't, 
 anyhow, Squire ! " 
 
 " O, no ! " replied the Squire, shouting with laugh- 
 ter ; " I'll uphold that as a good and sufficient release 
 of cock-a-doodle-doos and all other doos, in any court 
 of Christendom. It's natural you should crow over 
 that, Sam." 
 
 " If it hadn't bin the Squire," Sam afterwards de- 
 clared, " I'd a whipped him, or he should a whipped 
 me, of the very worst kind." However, he prudently 
 refrained ; and the Squire laughed so heartily at his 
 own wit, that Sam finally laughed too. As they 
 stopped at his office door, Mr. Preston wound up with 
 an exhortation to his companion to keep out of such 
 scrapes in future. 
 
 Sam stopped, set down the empty basket, picked up 
 a chip, and fell to whittling. The Squire waited 
 patiently the answer which he knew to be dependent 
 on the point to which Sam was sharpening down his 
 stick. When he looked up to speak, his face wore an 
 expression so serious and so different from his usual 
 devil-may-care phiz, that his monitor was fairly start- 
 led. Greater still was his astonishment when his 
 companion deliberately avowed a determination to 
 make himself industrious and independent. 
 
 " You ! Sam, well, who would have believed that ! 
 But you are right, Sam. Stick to that, and you shall
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. '27 
 
 tnrive." After this exordium, he took out his pocket 
 memorandum book, wrote upon a leaf, tore it out, 
 and handed it to Shirk. 
 
 "You're right, Sam stick to it like a man. 
 There's an order on Tom Tape for ten dollars to help 
 fit you out, and two dollars a month for four months 
 out of his store. If you're afraid I shall ask for it 
 back, I'll write you a receipt for all cock-a-doodle-doos 
 to this date." So saying, the Squire walked off, shak- 
 ing his sides with merriment, and leaving Sam, as he 
 expressed it, " all in a mis-maze."
 
 28 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THERE is no more marked characteristic of this 
 world than what our philosophers please to call its im- 
 perfection. In morals and in physics, the abstract 
 principle is seldom found perfect or unalloyed. The 
 concrete development and visible form combine, al- 
 ways, more or less exceptional matter. Everything 
 works, at times, what seems mischief to our partial per- 
 ceptions. From the golden circlet of the year, with all 
 its beautiful and wonderful beneficence, dart forth, from 
 point to point, casualties that sting like serpents hidden 
 in a wreath of flowers. The glorious source of phys- 
 ical life and light pours down the coup de soleil upon 
 the incautious head. The air that is the breath of 
 our nostrils, sweeps us away in the hurricane, withers 
 and freezes us in the polar blast, and stifles us in the 
 sirocco. The elements that are our ministers, and are 
 assumed, by our complacent vanity, to have been 
 created only for that purpose, must be watched con- 
 tinually, or they become our masters and destroyers. 
 In the moral world, the noblest virtues trench nar- 
 rowly upon the meanest vices ; and the head must 
 be clear indeed, and the resolve steady, that can 
 maintain the exact line of right. Countless disturbing 
 
 o o 
 
 influences cause the sensitive and impulsive spirit to 
 oscillate about the strait and narrow path. The mag- 
 net, though ever faithful to its mysterious polarity, is 
 stationary and true only in a state of repose and iso-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 29 
 
 lation unknown to human hearts. Even under the 
 most favorable conditions, our spirits waver over an 
 endless cycle of aberration, returning to their precise 
 meridian only to wander on the other side. 
 
 Yet there are and always have been wiseacres who 
 constantly demand an invariable rectitude from that 
 sensitive and irritable thing, the soul of man ; making, 
 of course, their own opinion the standard, and their 
 own discretion the judge. They forget that if the 
 world could be brought up to their pattern, admitting 
 for the time the infallibility of their decisions, there 
 would be no need of any other heaven ; and that 
 therefore either heaven or earth is a useless superfluity 
 in the economy of Providence. Their stiff-necked 
 ethics do not recognize that there could be no school 
 without a task, no virtue without temptation, no char- 
 ity without suffering and sin. They cannot perceive 
 that the most generous impulses of our nature are just 
 those which dash now and then beyond the limits of 
 the beaten path. Their arithmetical conscientiousness 
 has no feeling, no generous sympathy, no delicate per- 
 ceptions. It will not see that our kindly emotions, our 
 gentle affections, the sweet attachments of love and 
 passion, of home and kindred and country, are all in- 
 evitably based upon universal imperfection, upon mu- 
 tual wants and daily necessities. 
 
 What needs the mother care for the child, if it 
 were born a " hinfant phenomenon?" What needs 
 the child revere or love its parent, if it lacked neither 
 guidance nor support ? What need of affection, ten- 
 derness, benevolence, if every human being stood up- 
 right in the rigidity of absolute exactitude ? 
 
 The cold ascetics of moral and religious formulas 
 measure excellence by feet and inches on the scale of
 
 30 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 a creed, and never feel it as a spiritual tendency. They 
 cannot understand that many a man, who errs often 
 and widely, carries yet a purer soul within his breast 
 and lifts to heaven a nobler countenance than many a 
 precise formalist and rigid disciplinarian. This sour 
 and ugly error is one that creeps readily into the creed 
 of most reformers. The peculiar religious position 
 and tenets of our Puritan forefathers gave to it a wider 
 range and a more repulsive aspect than common. 
 Never in the world's history was there a set of 
 men of higher thought and nobler principle, or of 
 more narrow sympathies, or more chilling exterior. 
 Their peculiarities have not yet disappeared from New 
 England life ; and even now a shadow of their relig- 
 ious gloom rests upon its society. But two genera- 
 tions ago, their prejudices and whims were in full force. 
 A smile on the Sabbath was a sin, a dance was an out- 
 rage, and a mince-pie had hardly ceased to be an abom- 
 ination. Pleasure was, ipso facto, crime, and privation 
 and abnegation virtue. In every little country vil- 
 lage, you'might find a pattern man, a deacon, proba- 
 bly, whose chief business was to play the part of a 
 scarecrow in a cornfield, towards all the graces and 
 amenities of life ; to glorify God by degrading man, 
 to frighten the children into a moping dullness, and to 
 exhort the women and dragoon the men into a jealous, 
 dogmatic, and bitter conventionalism. Merrifield had 
 such a one, in the person of Deacon Hardy. 
 
 The Deacon was one of those men that seem to be 
 run out of lead, or baked of brick clay in a mould, 
 rather than made of flesh and blood. He was almost 
 entirely negative. What he was not, made up pretty 
 much all that he was. Nature had given him one of 
 those short-sighted minds that can see about to the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 31 
 
 end of their owner's nose, but no further, without the 
 aid of some moral spectacles to prolong the range of 
 vision. And such spectacles the Deacon would never 
 have sought, or used if he had them. For he firmly 
 believed that what he could not see, was not to be seen 
 at all ; and that what he did not know, did not exist. 
 Within his own sphere he was sensible and shrewd 
 enough ; but beyond that, he was not only ignorant 
 of everything, but ignored everything. The Deacon 
 was no speculator, though he loved money well ; he 
 could pick it up by hoarded pennies, but never amass 
 it by venturous thousands. He was a narrow-mouthed 
 bottle, to be filled only drop by drop. More would run 
 over and be spilled. He was not benevolent or char- 
 itable ; he seldom gave anything but advice. He was 
 not a rogue or a bad-hearted man ; in fact, what al- 
 lowance of heart he had, was consumed at home, in a 
 humdrum regard for his wife and family, and, to some 
 very moderate degree, for kindred more remote. He 
 had not much feeling, good or bad, to waste on the 
 world in general. He never begged or bestowed fa- 
 vors ; never took his neighbor's property, except in fair 
 trade, nor let anybody get a cent of his own, without 
 an equivalent. He never sang, except at meeting ; 
 seldom laughed, and never joked. He seldom pitied 
 or grieved for others, and never wept. 
 
 The Deacon talked of nothing but business or 
 religion. The latter was his hobby ; and a popular 
 one, in those days, more than now. Yet, though con- 
 stant at church and prayer-meeting, severe in manner, 
 prompt and harsh to admonish backsliders, and elabo- 
 rately correct in his own deportment, he was not de- 
 vout, though he thought himself eminently so. But 
 the spirit of the golden rule dwelt not in his bosom.
 
 32 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 He did not love God or man with a Christian's love. 
 Yet Hardy was no hypocrite. He was conscientious in 
 his own fashion ; but his conscience was a soulless one, 
 like a Connecticut clock, the cheapest and meanest 
 thing that could be made to travel, with apparent reg- 
 ularity, the daily round. His conscience was negative, 
 like the rest of him. It never urged him to a great or 
 good action, but only frightened him out of bad ones ; 
 and was very easy, too, with such as were only mean, 
 hard, or selfish, yet not exactly criminal. 
 
 To conclude, the Deacon, in some sense, did as well 
 as he knew ; but he should have known better. He 
 had suffered selfishness and arrogance to master his 
 spirit and his life, as the rough, dry bark cases up the 
 tree. Though he sowed some wheat, he let the tares 
 grow up with it and choke its growth. 
 
 Now Deacon Hardy, as we have said, loved to give 
 advice, if he gave nothing else. Every little escapade 
 of the boys, or innocent folly of the girls, or maturer 
 errors of their elders, was sure to be visited with his 
 censure. He was at once self-constituted Chief Jus- 
 tice and High Sheriff of Merrifield. Our friend Shirk 
 especially was the favorite object of his denunciations ; 
 for, as the one idea of the Deacon was that of method- 
 ical precision. Sam, its very antipodes, was the chiefest 
 of sinners. His antipathy to Sam had another reason, 
 too, besides the unblushing and irreclaimable defiance 
 of wholesome discipline shown by that harum-scarum 
 cosmopolite. For Shirk was shrewd and observant, 
 and far wiser in his way, in fact, than his censor. He 
 generally contrived to retaliate the Deacon's animad- 
 versions, by pungent hints and absurd counter-thrusts, 
 that hit all the harder because they were so adroitly 
 conveyed that they could not be openly controverted 
 or resented.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 33 
 
 When the Deacon heard of the widow ButK r's 
 bounty to Shirk, and of his opening career of im- 
 provement, he indulged in sundry depreciatory re- 
 marks. He " wondered that the widow didn't know 
 that she couldn't make silk purses out of sows ears," 
 and often quoted the proverb that professes to tell in 
 what quarter beggars are apt to ride, when they get on 
 horseback, together with many other equally amia- 
 ble comments upon the judiciousness of the matter. 
 
 Now the minister and many others said that Deacon 
 Hardy was the most exemplary man in Merrifield ; 
 and the Deacon, in a quiet, humble way, thought so 
 too. Yet there were some who saw reason for believ- 
 ing Shirk, in his "looped and windowed raggedness," 
 and with all his vagabondism, the better man of the 
 two. If misfortune overtook any of the little commu- 
 nity, the Deacon was always running over with criti- 
 cal discussions of the how and the wherefore. " Any- 
 body, with half an eye, might have seen how it would 
 be " " so and so was a well-meaning man, but he was 
 always in trouble," or " it was unaccountable to him why 
 such a one didn't do this," or the other poor devil ; ' ne- 
 glected to do that." But while his neighbors" sorrows 
 and calamities thus served, with Deacon Hardy, to dis- 
 play his own wisdom and afford instructive contrasts 
 to his own discreet and successful example, they were 
 sure to find with Sam Shirk a generous and unhesitat- 
 ing sympathy. He did not stop to discuss the causes 
 or the legitimacy of their distress, but forthwith sought 
 to relieve and comfort it, if he could. He was always 
 ready to give all he had, which frequently, to be 
 sure, was little or nothing ; and he would go, in all 
 weathers, to any distance on a charitable errand. 
 
 A short time after Dame Butler had made Sam a 
 
 3
 
 34 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 freeholder, the tall, gaunt figure of Deacon Hardy 
 came down the road one morning, on the way to his 
 "store," or, as it might elsewhere be called, his shop. 
 He marched along, punching the ground with his cane 
 at every step, as if to make sure that each stride was 
 of just the proper length. The Deacon had enjoyed a 
 good breakfast, and, according to general physiological 
 rules, should have been in good humor ; but " crea- 
 ture comforts" were not allowed to influence the 
 stately march of his mind. A genial satisfaction sel- 
 dom warmed up his heart, or diluted the acerbity of 
 his censures, as with common men that don't live 
 according to " the statute in such case made and pro- 
 vided." Seeing Sam loitering near the door of his 
 shop, he sharply accosted him : 
 
 " Here, Sam ! they say you've set up for yourself 
 at last. High time you did ! You know I've advised 
 you to do it many a time." 
 
 "You have so, Deacon," replied Sam, "and no 
 mistake. You've advised me to do it very often , 
 and," added Sam with considerable unction, " Wid- 
 der Butler's gin me somethin' to do it with good on 
 her head ! " 
 
 " Well, Sam, I hope you'll improve the chance, and 
 be thankful to Providence, and not be larking round 
 any more." 
 
 " I hope I shall," answered Shirk, laconically ; and 
 then, after a moment's pause as he turned the Dea- 
 con's homily over in his mind, he slyly winked to the 
 bystanders, and added, "Hope I shall. I'll try to 
 be thankful to Providence for the chance, and to the 
 widder for the farm, and to you for the advice ; and, 
 when I can, I'll return it in kind all round." 
 
 Sam looked the Deacon full in the face, as grave as
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 35 
 
 himself. That important personage doubted for a while 
 whether Sam was bantering him or not, but finally 
 concluded, such an incredible impertinence to be im- 
 possible. So, proceeding with his authoritative counsel, 
 he rejoined : 
 
 " Well, I'm glad you're in a creditable frame of 
 mind. Dame Butler's been very generous. 'Twas 
 full as much as you deserved, Sam ; and you must 
 make a good use of it ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir; it's a plaguy sight more than I de- 
 sarved. It an't every day a man finds sich a friend ; 
 and I'd sooner burn my fingers off than put her out, 
 any time. I mean to make it do for my life-time, if 
 I'm lucky. I shan't ask the widder for no more, you 
 may depend. But as advice is cheaper than farms is, 
 praps if I should get out o' the article, I might call 
 on you agin." 
 
 The ludicrous gravity with which this speech, so 
 suggestive of the well-known character of the Dea- 
 con's benevolence, was delivered, upset the composure 
 of the by-standers ; and a smile passed round the cir- 
 cle of idlers that had gathered round, breaking out, 
 here and there, in an audible snigger. 
 
 Hardy, perceiving that the sympathy of the audi- 
 ence and the argument were both going against him, 
 retreated into his shop, and left his saucy antagonist 
 master of the field. Sam poured out a parting volley 
 at the closing door. 
 
 " There's a sight o' folks in the world, that'll always 
 be tellin' what ought'r be done, and never helpin' 
 nobody to do it. When a feller's down in the mud, 
 and an't got nothin' nor nobody to hold on by, what's 
 the use o' tellin' him as how he'd best get up on his 
 legs, as if he didn't know that well enough before ?
 
 36 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 Now I like to see a man put out his hand and help 
 him up ; that's somethin' worth havin'. But hang 
 yer advice to do what ye want to do bad enough, 
 but can't." 
 
 Having thus disposed of the topic to his own satis- 
 faction, and to the apparent content of his audience, 
 Shirk took himself off to Tom Tape's, to make some 
 purchases, with an air of dignity hardly inferior to that 
 of the Deacon himself. 
 
 The latter functionary had retired into his shop 
 considerably annoyed, and endeavored to forget his 
 vexation by waiting upon a little knot of customers. 
 But after putting up a pound of tea for a pound of 
 pepper, and drawing a gallon of molasses in the oil 
 measure, he left it all again to his clerk, and returned 
 to his favorite employment of minding his neighbors' 
 business, attention to his own being, for the time, 
 quite out of the question.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 37 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DEACON HARDY was a sort of privy-councillor to 
 those of the community of Merrifield who had no bet- 
 ter. His well-known shrewdness in management and 
 prominence as a thrifty man and the holder of an 
 office which in those days was of high authority, 
 together with his peculiar propensity to interfere with 
 everything that he could in any degree control, made 
 him a sort of public administrator and guardian to all 
 who needed or would submit to his guidance. 
 
 The widow Butler, having, in the absence of her 
 son, no natural adviser, often recurred to his opinion, 
 when at a loss in the conduct of her affairs. The good 
 old lady had reverenced and loved her deceased hus- 
 band, as he had well deserved to be at the hands of all 
 who knew him. His ecclesiastical distinction had added 
 not a little, in her eyes, to the weight of a character of 
 natural intelligence and force as well as genuine integ- 
 rity and kindness. Kings, emperors, and presidents 
 had, to be sure, a shadowy and far-off preeminence in 
 her mind ; but of all the tangible and appreciable hon- 
 ors known to her practically, except those of the min- 
 ister, the name and functions of deacon were, to her, 
 paramount. She had revered them in the departed, 
 and her fond and pious awe was transferred, in some 
 measure, to the surviving partner of her husband in 
 that responsible office. As the dead Deacon's opinion
 
 38 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 had been to her the essence both of law and gospel, 
 that of the living one carried with it an almost indispu- 
 table authority. 
 
 "Cum quse ita sint," as Cicero says, these mat- 
 ters standing thus, Deacon Hardy wondered much and 
 fretted more that the widow had taken a step so 
 important as her donation to Sam Shirk without con- 
 sulting his superior wisdom. The gift of some fifty 
 acres of half wild land was, in that time and place, not 
 so much for the kind benefactress to bestow, as to 
 monetary value, though an invaluable benefit to the 
 receiver. But his natural right of ultimate appeal had 
 been infringed ; and Sam's unceremonious raid upon 
 his personal dignified pretensions tended not a little to 
 sharpen his discontent and arouse his criticism. So, 
 after sitting uneasily for a time upon the head of a 
 flour-barrel, he took his hat and set out for the house 
 of Mrs. Butler. 
 
 Knocking at the door, rather for a sort of familiar 
 apology for neglect of ceremony than as making any 
 question of his admission, he ushered himself, without 
 waiting for any answer to his summons, into the dame's 
 common apartment. In a different state of society, 
 the visit might have been, at such a time, by no means 
 welcome ; for the apparatus of the breakfast-table was 
 still in process of being cleared away, and the mistress 
 of the house was herself occupied in arranging the pre- 
 liminaries of dinner, while her handmaiden washed 
 and put away the material of the earlier meal. 
 
 But nobody in Merrifield, in those days, was 
 ashamed of being caught in doing anything that was 
 necessary to be done. There was no tearing off of 
 aprons, hasty wiping of hands, huddling up of dishes or 
 other evidence of disconcerted movements. After a
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 39 
 
 calm salutation, indeed, the old lady suspended her 
 own labors ; and, giving to her domestic the pro- 
 gramme of further operations, turned quietly to her 
 visitor. 
 
 The latter, according to his invariable habit, glanced 
 rapidly round the room to scan and criticise, before he 
 sat himself down. Previously to taking the offered 
 chair, he first boxed the ears of the old cat who was 
 lying in the sun upon the soft cushion of her mistress's 
 arm-chair, saying, as he inflicted the admonitory 
 cuff, " You'll do well enough on the floor, Pussy." 
 
 Dame Butler looked a little askance at the attack 
 upon her purring favorite, but said nothing. She 
 knew the ways of the offender too well. Economy 
 was not only a calculation with him, it was a passion ; 
 and it nettled him to see what he thought to be waste 
 or improvidence in his neighbors' affairs as much as 
 in his own. His acquired habit of dictation led him 
 to interfere unhesitatingly with everything, great or 
 small, that did not suit his views ; and his ready advice 
 boiled over constantly on all short-comings that met 
 his eye. He never troubled himself to see that this 
 petty censure did much more harm than good, and 
 was often greatly astonished that his suggestions were 
 not more graciously received. He could or would see 
 but one way for everything ; and that, of course, was 
 his own. That anybody might have a fancy or 
 should devise a plan which they should prefer to his, 
 was to his mind about as rational a scheme as to con- 
 trive something better than the sun to warm and light 
 up the world. So the Deacon drove poor Pussy out 
 of her comfortable lair ; but he did not occupy the va- 
 cated luxury himself. He was simply deeply impressed 
 with the idea that the cushion was not made for the
 
 40 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 cat's comfort ; and he wanted to see it saved for more 
 appropriate uses. He sat himself down after thus dis- 
 charging this economic duty, in one of the flag-bot- 
 tomed chairs of that primitive model that seems to 
 have been devised by Puritan ingenuity as a security 
 against self-indulgence. 
 
 After some trivial matter-of-course remarks, he 
 broached the subject that lay so engrossingly in his 
 mind. 
 
 " Well, ma'am," said he, " I hear you've given 
 Sam Shirk your farm down the road ? " 
 
 u Yes," replied the widow, " I've given him 
 the little place there." She was a little ruffled at the 
 treatment of her cat ; and her tone seemed rather to 
 decline any further interference in her own matters. 
 But her visitor was not easily to be put down ; and 
 this contempt of his authority only served to increase 
 the bitterness of the Deacon's mood. He sat silent for 
 a minute, poking with his cane at a straw upon the 
 floor, with a fierce perseverance, as if he thought it a 
 very ill-behaved and reprobate straw indeed. 
 
 Meanwhile, the damsel, who was washing up dishes 
 at the table, redoubling her activity, in order to make 
 up for the temporary withdrawal of her mistress, laid 
 down several plates from her towel with a somewhat 
 greater emphasis than usual. The fretful Deacon 
 threw towards her an unamiable glance, which passed 
 harmless and unnoticed over the head of the girl, who 
 was too zealously occupied to heed anything but her 
 work. Presently came along a cup, which, being duly 
 wiped, was deposited in its saucer without a proper 
 calculation of its centre of gravity, and rolled over 
 upon its side. The patience of the Deacon lost its bal- 
 ance too, and he gruffly growled out,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 41 
 
 " Betsey, don't make such a clatter ! I can't hear 
 a word." This was nothing very singular, apparently, 
 as nobody had spoken. " Ma'am, why don't you stop 
 her ? She's smashing all your things up, as if they 
 didn't cost anything." 
 
 Betsey's rosy lips puckered up, and an angry flush 
 passed over her face. But she did not dare to show 
 disrespect for the awful functionary of the church. 
 The undeserved rebuke was, nevertheless, scornfully 
 repudiated in her honest heart. Her mistress, too, 
 was pained by the harsh interference, but she, too, 
 shrunk from the audacity of repressing the imperious 
 impertinence. She would about as soon have thought 
 of railing at a cold wind, a scorching sun, or any other 
 dispensation of Providence. She felt deeply, however, 
 the Deacon's crustiness ; and, seeking to change the dis- 
 agreeable topic, mildly asked, " Don't you think I did 
 right, Deacon Hardy ? " 
 
 " What, to give Sam the place ? That depends 
 upon circumstances," sagely replied he. 
 
 " Why, he saved my life perhaps ! " 
 
 " 'Twas Providence saved your life, ma'am," was 
 the oracular answer, accompanied with a dignified and 
 very imposing look upward. 
 
 '* Well, to be sure," answered the widow, with 
 honest warmth, " and Providence sent him to help 
 me ; and Providence gave me the means of rewarding 
 him for it. I'm sure I think I couldn't do less than I 
 did." 
 
 The logic of the old lady's heart was, on this point, 
 an overmatch for the cold formalism of her companion. 
 He felt his disadvantage and shifted his ground. 
 
 " But will it do him any good ? Sam's a hard case ; 
 may be you'll throw away your land for nothing."
 
 42 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " May be I shall, and may be I shan't, Deacon. But 
 I've done my part, and I hope Sam '11 do hizzen. He 
 says he will." 
 
 " No doubt he does," sneered out the wise man. 
 " No doubt he says so." 
 
 While the discussion was thus proceeding, Pussy, 
 urged by her constitutional taste for comfort, had qui- 
 etly stolen into the arm-chair again, and lay, curled 
 into a semicircle of delicious indulgence, upon the 
 forbidden cushion. The Deacon's pent-up fury to do 
 some good to somebody, whether they would or not, 
 burst out again upon her luckless head. 
 
 " What a cat that is ! why don't you teach your 
 cat how to behave ? It's just as easy as not. The 
 cat never does such things in my house," said he, 
 sweeping her once more on to the floor. 
 
 And sure enough, no cat ever attempted such 
 atrocities in the Deacon's house at least, not in his 
 presence. Experience had taught both cat and dog 
 that there was nothing to be enjoyed peaceably, under 
 his vigilant and stern discipline. His return home 
 was the signal for instant retreat into the safe obscu- 
 rity of corners. And, the first time the door opened, 
 both Grimalkin and Rover invariably escaped from the 
 apartment honored by his supervision to some quarter 
 where rights and wrongs were less severely construed. 
 
 Dame Butler now began to share the irritable mood 
 of her visitor; but her mild nature was incapable of 
 violent demonstrations. She could not, however, re- 
 strain herself from coming to the rescue of her mar- 
 tyrized dependent, with a gentle remonstrance. 
 
 " La, now, Deacon, do let the cat be ! I always 
 let her sleep in the arm-chair when I don't want it 
 myself."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 43 
 
 Pussy might have added, could she have spoken, that 
 her kind mistress seldom exercised the right of sov- 
 ereignty, when it interfered with her own snug little 
 arrangements. Many an hour would the kind-hearted 
 woman sit knitting in the uninviting, straight-backed, 
 and flag-bottomed production of the rude home manufac- 
 ture, and gaze with placid pleasure on the slumbers of 
 her cat, in the capacious and softly stuffed recess of the 
 old heir-loom, which everybody else in the household, 
 but Pussy, held sacred to the use of its chief and old- 
 est member. But she would not disturb the evident 
 satisfaction of Tabby, for the sake of her own ease, in 
 any less case than extreme fatigue or an attack of 
 rheumatism. The sight of enjoyment, even in an an- 
 imal, was, to her benevolent and quiet spirit, a positive 
 pleasure. To tell the -whole truth, the perfect ab- 
 sorption and voluptuous laziness with which a petted 
 mouser luxuriates in a soft, warm couch, went straight 
 to the old lady's heart. She sympathized with it 
 deeply, because it was so thoroughly in unison with the 
 dreamy and dozing quietude with which she herself 
 enjoyed the comfortable lounge over her knitting, 
 when the cat provided herself elsewhere, and the arm- 
 chair fell to the lot of its more legitimate occupant. 
 
 In the present emergency, Pussy could do nothing 
 but shake her injured ears and take herself out of the 
 way, convinced that some untoward influence ruled 
 the hour. The Deacon, satisfied with his success in 
 the contest, now reverted to the main object of His 
 visit. 
 
 " Now I would have made Sam agree to behave 
 himself before I gave him the farm ; and kept it in 
 my own hands till I was satisfied he would turn it to 
 good account. I don't believe you can trust him out 
 o' sight."
 
 44 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 The widow sat a moment in consternation at the 
 unpromising aspect thus put upon her benevolent 
 scheme. But her own true feelings came to her re- 
 lief. 
 
 *' Well, Deacon, I'm sorry you don't approve what 
 I have done. You know a great deal better than I, 
 perhaps. But it seems to me it wouldn't be of any 
 use to have tied Sam up with all kinds of promises. 
 If he didn't mean to keep 'em, 'twould only have 
 made the matter worse than ever ; and if he did, they 
 wa'n't needed. And, if nobody ever will trust him, 
 how can you ever expect him to feel that he ought to 
 deserve it ? " 
 
 The mentor was now a little puzzled, in his turn. 
 But he sought pertinaciously to contrive some way to 
 put the widow in the wrong ; and adopted another 
 line of argument to effect his purpose. 
 
 " But, ma'am, such lazy, good-for-nothing folks 
 haven't any right to be treated better than they de- 
 serve. They ought to work for what they want, and 
 ought to be made to. Providence sends poverty and 
 trouble for a punishment to them that won't do their 
 duty. You nor I haven't any right to fly in the face 
 of Providence. Let them take the consequences, till 
 they grow wiser. We haven't any business to take 
 such things out of the Lord's hands." 
 
 The widow was now thunderstruck. She had been 
 vexed to be compelled to suspect that she had acted 
 unwisely ; but the idea that she had been guilty of 
 impiety was overwhelming. Her hands dropped upon 
 her knees, and she sat looking upon her censor with 
 a face of unutterable dismay. Her companion, on the 
 other hand, drew his cane up under his chin, and, 
 casting his eyes upward for a moment, subsided into a
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 45 
 
 position of triumphant self-satisfaction. But he had 
 not yet gained the victory. There was a power in 
 the heart of the meek and placid old lady before him, 
 that he knew nothing of, for it had no place in his 
 own, the power of Christian charity. For a few 
 moments his unassuming antagonist was stunned into 
 an unresisting amazement. But what she could not 
 reason out, she could feel out ; and all her better in- 
 stincts told her that she was right, if she could not 
 tell how. 
 
 Deacon Hardy looked upon men and women as mere 
 machines, a sort of animated spinning-wheels, from 
 which the thread of life was to be produced of given 
 quantity and quality, according to a fixed standard 
 promulgated by authority. His companion felt that 
 there was something more than all this in human ex- 
 
 O 
 
 istence ; though she could not have proved it syllogis- 
 tically, for her life. The Deacon's authority was great, 
 his words were strong, his conclusions were appalling. 
 But, timid, self-distrusting, and unargumentative as she 
 was, Dame Butler was true to her instincts ; and they 
 were good and pure. She could not disprove, but she 
 could despise the Deacon's argument. She heard the 
 low but mighty voice that spoke in her heart, and 
 gave it an indignant utterance. A smile gradually 
 lighted up her features, and the gloom of doubt faded 
 away before it, till, at last, the beautiful truth filled 
 her flushing face with the warmth and dignity of sin- 
 cere benevolence. 
 
 "No, no! Deacon Hardy, it can't be so. The 
 Lord has given to both you and me more than we've 
 deserved, and to many a one blessings they never 
 earned. No, no ! that's not his rule. His sun shines 
 and his rain falls on the just and the unjust. If He
 
 46 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 does not judge, it's not my duty to condemn my fel- 
 low-creatures, or insist on a price for what little I can 
 do for 'em. If Sam's been a vagabond, he's a man, 
 and feels like one ; and I wouldn't be for insulting his 
 feelings. He wants to be treated as if he was some- 
 
 O 
 
 body, and maybe then he will be somebody. But if 
 his neighbors won't think anything of him, why should 
 he think much of himself? I've done what I could 
 for him ; and I an't sorry, and I don't believe he'll 
 want to make me sorry. Deacon, this grinding down 
 folks an't right ; it don't do any good." 
 
 The widow stopped and blushed, almost fright- 
 ened by the boldness of her own indignant eloquence. 
 Deacon Hardy looked^ abashed for some instants, and 
 cowered before the flash of her earnest eye. He had 
 never seen her so aroused before. Indeed, she had 
 never made a speech half so long in her whole life. 
 He saw clearly that he could not overrule her convic- 
 tion, and took up his hat to go. 
 
 " Well, well maybe that's all right. It's hard to 
 settle some of these points ; and I can't spare any 
 more time. I hope it'll all turn out right." 
 
 " No, you don't ! " murmured Betsey, as the wiry 
 form vanished through the door. 
 
 " Why, Betsey ! " said the widow, then returned 
 quietly again to her preparations for dinner.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 47 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DAME BUTLER was one of those good old souls 
 whom it may be difficult to admire, but still more dif- 
 ficult not to respect and love. Her extraordinary 
 simplicity hardly allowed the first emotion ; while her 
 genuine and overflowing kindness of heart, honesty 
 of purpose, and truthfulness, irresistibly conciliated the 
 affections, where they could not command or even sat- 
 isfy the intellect. 
 
 Having removed into the wilderness at an early age, 
 she had retained little definite memory of the world at 
 large. The indistinct impressions that remained served 
 only to stimulate what small imaginative power she 
 possessed, without furnishing her with any standard of 
 judgment or comparison. They were to her like the 
 gorgeous fictions of the " Arabian Nights " to young 
 readers, wonderful, exciting, but not supposed to be ame- 
 nable to analysis or to the common rules of compre- 
 hension. Inexperience thus combined with a most 
 remarkable simplicity of nature to stamp her character 
 with some traits that were amusing, if not quite ridic- 
 ulous, to more knowing mortals. 
 
 She had dwelt with perfect contentment in her own 
 allotted sphere, and never even asked the question 
 whether change could bring improvement ; but lived 
 on her own bough of the tree of life, until, like the 
 chameleon, she assumed its very color. The confined 
 theatre of her existence, and the unambitious current
 
 48 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 of her thought, led her to measure by barleycorns 
 what others did by feet or yards ; thus she lived in a 
 continual amazement at the prodigies enacted about 
 her. Not in the least, however, did the wonder effect 
 any derangement in her own orbit. Surprise exhaled 
 in an ejaculation of " O my ! " or " Did you ever ! " and 
 all was quiet again. The astounding fact was dismissed 
 as a chance guest, that went its way and was thought 
 of no more. 
 
 The widow had never, in the whole course of her 
 life, felt the smallest impulse or entertained the most 
 distant idea of wronging or defrauding any one ; her 
 nature did not contain the elements of mischief. There- 
 fore, although even her limited experience proved the 
 contrary, her instinctive and theoretic belief, or, more 
 properly perhaps feeling, was that no one else would 
 injure or deceive. She heard of crimes, and personally 
 felt petty wrongs occasionally ; but she wondered at 
 and forgot them all. Thus afloat, without any definite 
 appreciation of facts upon which to base conclusions, 
 her credulity was unbounded ; and her understanding 
 objected to no demands upon it, except it were some- 
 thing too repulsive for feeling to credit. In fine, she 
 was nearly passionless ; and the temptations that misled 
 others being unknown to her, their results of woe and 
 wrong-doing were inconceivable ; and to save herself 
 the pain of condemning, she commonly refused to be- 
 lieve them. Her intellectual powers were not so much 
 deficient as they were quiescent and inactive for want 
 of all exciting impulse ; and she never sought without 
 her own bounds what was not found within them. 
 
 But in one point of view Mrs. Butler's character 
 was far from weak or negative. A fact or a principle, 
 once admitted, was fixed forever. In the circle of
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 49 
 
 household and personal duty, she clearly comprehended 
 and steadfastly practiced what she knew to be right 
 and expedient. In the family, her laws were like 
 those of the Medes and Persians ; and to any encroach- 
 ment upon the routine of her daily life, she would op- 
 pose a resolve as inflexible as that of the English 
 barons, when they replied to the demands of illicit 
 power, " Nolumus leges Anglias mutare." The mild 
 old lady would exhibit, indeed, a very different tone 
 and manner from the iron-fisted feudatories ; but she 
 could be, on occasion, as persistent as the best of them. 
 You might as easily persuade the wash-tubs and ket- 
 tles to dance a polka, as to induce her to do anything 
 in any way but what she thought the right one, or to 
 leave undone anything that she conceived that economy 
 or propriety called on her to do. In higher matters 
 of conscience, she was equally scrupulous ; and would 
 have been more so, had the thing been possible. But 
 with her, prejudices were as strong as principles, and 
 habit as powerful as creed, for the simple reason that 
 all were omnipotent. In all cases decided in the old 
 lady's mind by either of these agencies, opposition was 
 futile, logic and eloquence were vain. " What is right, 
 is right," she would say ; and this undeniable argu- 
 ment was to her a moral Gibraltar. Yet it was not 
 that she was obstinate, in any bad sense of the word. 
 It was not that her will was so strong so much as that 
 
 O* 
 
 her conscientiousness was unenlightened, and there- 
 fore her power of discrimination weak. 
 
 A day or two after the occurrences we have already 
 related, she was seated at a window, with her knitting 
 work, revolving in her mind the events that had thus 
 ruffled, for a time, the calm current of her life. 
 
 " How could Dobbin run away ? How did I escape 
 4
 
 50 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 without breaking my neck ? " Not finding any very 
 obvious solution of her innocent wonderment, her 
 thoughts diverged to -the scapegrace Sam. " How 
 can folks be so dreadful keerless ? to let a nice pig like 
 that get away ! " This query being quite as insoluble 
 as the others, the good dame reverted to the first 
 problem, and then, in renewed despair, returned to 
 the second once more. Dobbin and Sam both re- 
 maining as incomprehensible as ever, she finally settled 
 down into a vacant and unresisting perplexity. 
 
 While the placid old lady dozed away her morning 
 in these dreamy lucubrations, a young traveller was 
 urging his horse towards Merrifield over the rough 
 road that wound along the sea-coast from the westAvard, 
 and shaped its sinuous course from point to point, across 
 the heads of the bays which, running deep into the 
 land at intervals of a few miles from each other, jagged 
 its outline into a resemblance of a huge saw. The 
 pace maintained by the young equestrian was rapid as 
 was anywise practicable amid the obstacles and intri- 
 cacies of the half-made track. Through the scattered 
 stumps and stones, through the sloughs that frequently 
 occurred where the brooks wound through the valley 
 bottoms, he pushed on the animal which he rode, with 
 hand and heel. The steady course Avas kept up, AA-ith- 
 out a moment's check, up and doAvn the heavy hills 
 which traversed the path, running down from the inte- 
 rior and stretching far out into the ocean in shaggy 
 promontories, Avhich divided from each other the bays 
 and roadsteads. 
 
 It was a lovely June morning. The brilliant sun 
 shone with unbroken splendor through the clear, dry 
 atmosphere ; but there was no lassitude or enervation 
 in his beams, for the north wind came fresh and brae-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 51 
 
 ing over the pine forests, from the Arctic regions 
 where the chill of winter still lingered, and breathed 
 into all nature a full and vigorous energy, as it merrily 
 chased the light, fleecy cloudlets across the sky. It 
 was one of those temperatures that make life, to the 
 young and healthful, not only a pleasure but an irre- 
 sistible challenge to active enjoyment, and send the 
 sluggish current along more briskly, even in the veins 
 of age. 
 
 James Butler for the traveller was the widow's 
 only son, returning from a four years' absence 
 seemed well qualified either to contend successfully 
 with rougher circumstances or to enjoy fully the 
 pleasant scene that now surrounded him. His clear, 
 calm, hazel eye, brown cheek, amiable but intelligent 
 countenance, well-cut mouth and chin, denoted a char- 
 acter marked by that happy equipoise usually termed 
 strong, practical common-sense. His frame, well de- 
 veloped and graceful, lacked the elements neither of 
 strength nor activity ; and a luxuriant mass of wavy 
 dark hair, escaping beneath his cap, crowned an exte- 
 rior that might well find favor with young or old. 
 There was an indefinable air of prompt and efficient 
 action about him, which strongly indicated that the 
 fishing-rod, the rifle, and the saddle were all both 
 agreeable and familiar to him ; while the marked sa- 
 gacity of his well-defined features forbade the suspicion 
 of any lack of intellectual taste and culture. 
 
 Just over the brow of a hill, up whose long and 
 steep slope he had been for some time climbing, a lit- 
 tle spring welled out at the foot of a huge boulder by 
 the roadside, under the deep shadow of several tall 
 and dark hemlocks. A small clump of firs edged the 
 track, the full green of their fan-like masses of foliage
 
 52 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 contrasting beautifully with the fresh olive tinge of the 
 new shoots and the silvery reverse of their compact 
 spray, as their branches tossed to the boisterous breeze. 
 The delicious perfume peculiar to these trees, and 
 which, like the odor of new-made hay, cannot be 
 rivaled by -the subtlest skill of the chemist, pervaded 
 the bright air, as it oozed from the pores of the 
 aromatic wood, forming those fragrant tears which 
 give the plant its common title of fir balsam. Arrested 
 by the exquisite scent that fell upon his senses, at 
 once so delicate and so powerful, Butler checked his 
 panting horse, and, springing from the saddle, gave 
 the animal the rein at the edge of the little basin. 
 While his faithful companion recovered breath and 
 allayed his thirst in the fresh, cool water, his master 
 cast a glance of comprehensive and pleased recognition 
 upon the familiar prospect that lay before his eyes. 
 
 Immediately around and upon either side extended 
 the high and rocky ridge on which he stood, stretch- 
 ing away northward into the forests, where, crowned 
 with a dark growth of centuries, it melted away 
 among the broken hills of the interior. 
 
 Under its northeastern slope, but chiefly hidden by 
 high rolling swells that started out laterally from the 
 main trunk, like the waves breaking along the wake 
 of a huge sea-serpent, lay the valley of the Narragua- 
 gus River and the little village of Merrifield. Here 
 and there a glimpse of the stream shining in the bright 
 sun, or a clear field and homestead upon the opposite 
 side of the valley, appeared through the tall gray stems 
 of the dead trees, and the scattered clumps of bushes 
 that still marked the site of the woods recently fallen 
 before the axe and fires of the settlers. On the north- 
 ern horizon, the twin summits of Humpback Mountain
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 53 
 
 and the highlands on the Columbia River rose over the 
 dense, unbroken mass of forest which spread uninter- 
 ruptedly to the shores of the St. Lawrence. In front, 
 another lofty and continuous ridge ran seaward, par- 
 allel with that on which he stood, on the further side 
 of the river, and the bay into which it emptied four 
 miles below, forming a bluff rampart to the high and 
 broken table-land, which stretched away eastward, till 
 it was intersected by the channel of the Pleasant or 
 Columbia River and the estuary that welcomed its 
 waters into the bosom of the Atlantic. 
 
 On the slopes of the hill a few houses of farmers and 
 fishermen dotted its smoother swales with their little 
 surrounding patches of cultivated ground ; but its crest 
 was still covered with the disheveled and straggling 
 remnants of dark woods ; except where, here and 
 there, the huge granite backbone of the ridge bared 
 itself in bleak and weather-beaten ledges, that glim- 
 mered piebald in eternal sterility, under the bright 
 sunshine. In some spots where the fires had swept 
 through, nothing was left but isolated gray trunks of 
 pines, hemlocks, and spruces, standing bleaching in 
 slow decay, like ghosts still lingering on the places 
 where their green life had perished. Around them, 
 the surface was strown with an inextricable tangle of 
 rotting trunks and broken branches. Rough, gray 
 boulders arose in every direction, revealing the hope- 
 less and defiant barrenness that was once concealed 
 beneath the dark canopy which Nature had slowly 
 reared in the progress of centuries past, even from 
 the iron bosom of its desolation. Now and then a lit- 
 tle copse of birch bushes tossed its lithe branches to 
 the breeze, relieving with patches of bright verdure 
 the sombre expanse of the forbidding wilderness, the
 
 54 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 effort of yet unexhausted Nature to repair the devasta- 
 tions that had invaded her domain. 
 
 To the north and west, rough and craggy moun- 
 tains, partly clothed with shaggy woods, rose blue and 
 huge in the interior, marking with their harsh out- 
 lines the general rough and indomitable nature of the 
 country. Yet along the slopes of the long ridges 
 that swept at right angles down towards the sea, and 
 embosomed afar off among the towering mountains, 
 were pleasant valleys and picturesque lakes and smil- 
 ing water-courses, inviting the incoming of human life 
 
 o * o o 
 
 and civilization. 
 
 As Butler gazed upon the scene, his air of gratified 
 familiarity sobered into a more serious expression. 
 The reflections of the man began to modify the impul- 
 sive pleasure of boyish recollections. 
 
 " Well," thought he, " here is the river, and there 
 the mountains, the hills, and the woods as they were 
 four years ago ; and my heart gushes out towards 
 them with the affection of old acquaintanceship. But 
 I must confess that I have somewhat flattered them, in 
 the picture imprinted on my memory. Uncle John 
 was not altogether unjustified when he ungraciously 
 styled my childish paradise an unprofitable wilderness. 
 Wilderness it most of it is, pretty surely ; and as to 
 the profit, the prospect is decidedly brighter in Corn- 
 hill or on Long Wharf. I must admit, too, that some 
 of the cultivated graces of the old homesteads in 
 Massachusetts would decidedly improve the scenery. 
 ' Sed non omnibus omnia,' as the old fellow said long 
 time ago. Nature is too economical to spend all her 
 treasures on one spot ; and man has done little enough 
 here, as yet. 
 
 " Well, the more room, then, for improvement. I
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 55 
 
 need not rust out for want of occupation ; and there 
 are good things here as elsewhere. This country is 
 grand and picturesque, if not rich and luxuriant. 
 There are plenty of fish in the sea, trout in the brooks, 
 and deer in the woods ; and true-hearted men, and 
 pretty girls too, in these rude log-houses. 
 
 " It seems to be hard, though, that experience leaves 
 always disappointment behind. The more we know, 
 the less we find worth bothering ourselves about. 
 Knowledge strips the gilding and the flowers from our 
 youthful idols, as the autumn winds strip the summer 
 leaves from the trees. Is it meant that we shall never 
 be satisfied with anything, in order to keep us always 
 busy at our work? But, is there to be no play, no 
 enjoyment, after it all ? However, I can't stop longer 
 to philosophize now." 
 
 Gathering up his reins and springing into the saddle, 
 Butler urged his horse afresh down the rough and 
 steep hill, over holes and sloughs and among stumps 
 and stones that would have rendered the pace perilous, 
 but. for the activity of the animal, and the quick eye 
 and ready hand of the rider. He crossed the short 
 level of the table-land that lay below, and, turning 
 sharply to his left, struck into a track which led north- 
 ward up the valley. On his right, the river, a shallow 
 and rapid stream a few hundred feet wide, meandered 
 along between shores, formed sometimes by abrupt 
 banks scarped by the elements into the ribbed and fur- 
 rowed slopes peculiar to a clayey soil, and sometimes 
 by narrow marshes, niched into circuitous sweeps of 
 upland. Part of the road was yet covered with the 
 original forest ; but, here and there, an opening, stud- 
 ded all over still with charred and decaying stumps, 
 let in the broad sunlight upon the fields of settlers.
 
 56 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 The recent clearings, with their rude buildings, had 
 but little to gratify the eye, except the always stimu- 
 lating presence of human life and the cheerful promises 
 of industrious enterprise. The beginnings of infant 
 settlements do little but destroy the wild magnificence 
 and rich variety of the natural landscape, without com- 
 pensating their loss by the gentler graces of civilization, 
 which are the work of long years of patient labor. 
 The rough ground lies -in charred and rotting ruin, 
 while the influences of cultivation are scai'cely percep- 
 tible. Yet these simple homes of future comfort, with 
 their rude expedients and half wild outlines, are not 
 devoid of a picturesque and negligent beauty. 
 
 As Butler dashed, almost at a single step of his 
 horse, from the heavy shadows and gloomy atmosphere 
 of the woods into the broad sunshine and fresh, spark- 
 ling air of these intervals, now growing more and more 
 frequent, the change brought a sense of relief and 
 pleasure. It was life and light instead of dim and 
 death -like stillness ; human cheer and activity for the 
 stern and silent awe of the woods. He recalled to 
 friendly recollection the owners of the older home- 
 steads, and indulged in vague and rapid surmises as 
 to the proprietorship of such recent improvements as 
 were posterior to his departure from the neighborhood. 
 But he did not stay to scrutinize or to question, but 
 steadily maintained a pace that soon brought him to 
 the little hamlet, clustered around the falls at the 
 extreme limits of the flow of the tide. 
 
 The impatient youth speeded along, unpausing and 
 almost regardless, past many familiar objects. Even 
 at the corners of the bridge, where, according to their 
 daily wont, all the quidnuncs of the village were col- 
 lected, he stopped not to return, except by a hasty
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 57 
 
 nod, the surprised recognition of some and the gaping 
 curiosity of others, who failed to recall in the manly 
 horseman the boy of four years ago. The deep affec- 
 tions of home were swelling in his Anglo-Saxon 
 bosom ; and he could not and would not draw his rein, 
 till he flung himself from the saddle at the door of the 
 house where he was born. 
 
 In a remote place, like Merrifield, so many miles 
 from anywhere, in those days of circumscribed loco- 
 motion, the arrival of a stranger was an event of univer- 
 sal and paramount influence upon the usual monotony 
 of every day. As a pebble which, falling into the 
 ocean, is swallowed up unnoticed amid the surges of 
 the mighty flood, creates, when thrown into a duck- 
 pond, a commotion that circles ever widening to its 
 utmost circumference, the sudden appearance of their 
 young townsman at once set the whole community into 
 a state of inexpressible excitement. Nothing more 
 was done for the day, with many, but to speculate upon 
 his appearance and the purposes of his return. But 
 we shall leave the little public, as Butler did, to re- 
 cover its usual dull equanimity at its leisure.
 
 58 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BUTLER reined up his panting horse at the door-step, 
 where the house-dog lay slumbering before the thresh- 
 old. Old Watch lifted his head at the sudden intru- 
 sion, and uttered a loud and hurried bark, like a senti- 
 nel surprised at his post, and discharging his musket 
 to announce unexpected danger. But, although he 
 promptly rose upon his feet and stood sturdily between 
 the new-comer and the door, he neither made any 
 further demonstration of hostility nor repeated his an- 
 gry challenge. A look of puzzled intelligence flashed 
 over his honest face ; and his half-joyous and half- 
 suspicious expression showed that his canine brain was 
 busy in the solution of an interesting question. The 
 traveller stood for a moment, eying the shaggy quad- 
 ruped with a silent smile ; while the dog, in his turn, 
 studied his features with a perplexed and earnest at- 
 tention. Presently his tail began to twitch in incipi- 
 ent circles, as if considering the propriety of wagging 
 a welcome ; and the earnest gaze brightened and grew 
 in intensity, as if his eyes would burst with their pent- 
 up excitement. A low, tremulous whine expressive 
 of his agitation at length overcoming the waiting quiet 
 of his partner in the mute conference, the latter laid 
 his hand upon the broad forehead which pressed up-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 59 
 
 wards sympathetically to his touch, and spoke, 
 " Well, old playmate do you remember me, or 
 no?" 
 
 The question was solved, the laborious doubt was 
 dissipated. The troubled eyes sparkled with unutter- 
 able joy, that exploded in one glad bark ; the tail, no 
 longer hesitating, swept the air, as if it would swing 
 itself off from its roots, and the huge dog, rearing on 
 his hind legs, laid his fore paws on either shoulder of 
 the youth, and vented his overwhelming pleasure in 
 a broken whine of immeasurable delight. Butler in- 
 dulged the affectionate animal, for a moment, in his 
 uncouth embrace ; then, gently setting him down into 
 his normal quadrupedal attitude, said with a moistened 
 eye, " We'll have a long talk, presently, good old 
 fellow." 
 
 Stopping only to give the bridle of his horse into 
 one hand of a man who hurried forward from the barn, 
 while he briefly shook the other hard and sunburnt fist 
 thrust out to him in unceremonious but cordial wel- 
 come, he moved hastily towards the door. 
 
 His mother, now startled from the revery in which 
 we left her immersed, toddled out to meet him, 
 ejaculating, " O, forever ! if it an't our James ! " 
 
 Butler seized her extended hands, and kissing her 
 on both cheeks with the ardor of an affectionate son, 
 led her back to her chair. 
 
 " Well, only think of it ! Why, James, where did 
 you come from ? O, I'm so glad to see you ! " said 
 his mother, her eyes twinkling through quiet tears 
 with sudden pleasure. " Why, I never knew you 
 were coming home now ! " 
 
 " Of course you didn't, mother; for I thought it 
 best not to write, for fear you should amuse yourself
 
 60 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with thinking that I should break my neck, or get 
 drowned on the way, or be eaten up by the bears. 
 So I stole a. march upon you, and hope you are as 
 glad to see me home again as I am to be here. You 
 look well, dear mother," added he, again kissing her 
 cheek, as he led her to the old-fashioned arm-chair 
 with its quilted cushion, and sat down by her side. 
 
 Dame Butler instinctively took up her knitting- work 
 again and began to click the needles together, as if 
 there was nothing but her unfinished stocking in the 
 wide world. But her eyes soon wandered from the 
 work to the face of her only child, whom she really 
 loved with a deep affection, that in nobody but herself 
 could have been at once so earnest and so undemon- 
 strative. 
 
 " O my ! how you are grown, James ! I shouldn't 
 have known you. You are as big as your father 
 was, only not so fat." 
 
 " Not quite, I think, mother, I am not old enough 
 to be fat, or a deacon yet," replied her son, laughing. 
 
 " Well, I hope you will live to be, James, I mean 
 a deacon, I don't care about the fat ; I like your 
 looks very well as you are." 
 
 " Thank you, mother. I mean to stay at home 
 with you now ; and perhaps I will try for the dea- 
 conship, if it will please you. But I am scarcely so- 
 ber enough yet. But why don't you ask about Uncle 
 John and all of them ? " 
 
 " La, now, I forgot all about it. You've flustered me 
 to d^eath. How do they all do ? " 
 
 " They are quite well, and send lots of love. Uncle 
 says he will try to come down and see you next sea- 
 son. I wanted him to come with me, but he was too 
 busy, as he always is."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 61 
 
 " Well, did you say you were going to stay with 
 us now, for good, my son ? " 
 
 " Yes, mother, if it suits you. I have tried city 
 life long enough. Uncle John has been very kind, 
 and makes generous offers ; but I don't think it very 
 important to make a large fortune. Do you mother ? " 
 
 "Well, I don't know, some thinks so and some 
 doesn't," oracularly replied she ; for she would as 
 soon have thought of solving the quadrature of the 
 circle as the question proposed. 
 
 " We'll talk over my plans by and by, mother. I 
 think you will let me do pretty much as I please. 
 But what's the news in the village ? You know I 
 have been gone a long time." 
 
 " The news dear me ! You've put everything 
 clear out of my head. Did I tell you about old Brin- 
 dle's calf? I don't think I did it was after I wrote 
 my last letter, I believe ; for I remember I was putting 
 down my first butter the day I sent the letter. By 
 the way, you haven't told me if you ever got it I'm 
 sure I don't see how anything ever gets safe, clear to 
 Boston. Well, it's a nice calf. And Mrs. Campbell 
 has got a little girl. They say it's a beautiful baby, 
 but I haven't seen it. Then we've got a litter of 
 pigs that's four weeks old next Wednesday. There's 
 six of 'em. And old Mrs. Daighton has had the rheu- 
 matiz dreadfully she hasn't been to meeting for a 
 long time. They say her husband's built him a new 
 barn too ; but I haven't seen it, for I haven't been 
 up that way this great while. Well, I declare I can't 
 tell what has happened, I'm so dreadful glad to see 
 you." 
 
 "Never mind, mother, you'll think of it all in 
 good time. But how are all the youngsters ? How
 
 62 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 are my old playmates, Archie Campbell, Harry Nich- 
 ols, and the rest ? " 
 
 " O, they're all well enough, I believe. But they 
 do say some of 'em are shocking wild. Old Mrs. 
 Small told me, only last week, that the young men 
 went all round Saturday nights as much as any other 
 night. I wonder what your father would have said ! 
 I don't believe he ever went anywhere of a Saturday 
 night in all his born days, unless it was to a meeting. 
 I don't know what folks'll do next." 
 
 "O mother, don't worry, they'll grow steady fast 
 enough. Old Mrs. Small is apt to know more about 
 her neighbors' business than she needs to do. Isn't 
 there anything less portentous that I should like to 
 hear?" 
 
 His mother proceeded to enlighten young Butler 
 upon the statistics of the village in an odd jumble of 
 the details of her own household and the petty events 
 that constitute the staple of gossip in sequestered com- 
 munities ; among which figured conspicuously the par- 
 ticulars of all the maladies that had afflicted Merrifield 
 for an indefinite period of its history. Measles and 
 whooping-coughs, fevers and dysenteries, were de- 
 scribed with a minuteness to furnish materials for a 
 complete sanitary report. Occasional digressions upon 
 pigs and poultry, and spinning and weaving operations, 
 filled up the sketch of the old lady's reminiscences. 
 To all these matters her auditor listened with an air 
 of indifference, as if respect for the narrator alone pre- 
 vented the avowal of their lack of importance in his 
 eyes. Still, with apparent inconsistency, he continued 
 to provoke by questions the occasionally interrupted 
 flow of the narrative. Perhaps James's notion was 
 that it afforded pleasure to his mother ; perhaps he
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 63 
 
 hoped that some yet untold matter of deeper interest 
 might be forthcoming among the motley groupings of 
 the matron's memory. However this might be, the 
 listless air of unconcern that had settled upon his fea- 
 tures, in spite of him, was superseded by an expres- 
 sion of trifling awkwardness, as he finally interrupted 
 a resume* of a case of consumption that might have 
 have made the reputation of a young dispensary phy- 
 sician, by an abrupt question that showed a sad want 
 of sympathy. 
 
 " Well, mother, I'm no doctor, neither do I de- 
 sire to be one. But you said awhile ago that old Mrs. 
 Small thought the boys were in a bad way : how is it 
 with the girls ? are they all dead or married ? " 
 
 " I rather think not, my son," replied the old lady, 
 smiling, as she looked over her spectacles at James. 
 Now, if she had looked through her spectacles, she 
 might have seen that a slight flush spread over his 
 cheeks in answer to her smile. But those useful aux- 
 iliaries had been dropped half-way down her nose, as 
 she sat at her knitting, and she did not observe it. But, 
 in reply, she started off in a rambling commentary 
 upon numbers of Janes and Hannahs, Elviras, Sarahs, 
 and Deborahs, even including the matrimonial for- 
 tunes of a pretty young squaw among the aristocracy 
 of the neighboring tribe of Passamaquoddies, whose 
 wedding had lately been celebrated in the neighbor- 
 hood, according to aboriginal ritual. But, although 
 he had himself sought the information, it seemed all to 
 fall upon James's ears with as little effect as the catnip 
 teas, and decoctions of liverwort. The dame came 
 once more to a stand, as if the romantic elements of 
 Merrifield annals were exhausted. After a short 
 pause, she added, by way of epilogue to the record of
 
 64 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 the Court of Love, " They say Polly Wood spun 
 more yarn last winter than any two girls in Merrifield. 
 I won't undertake to say how many hanks it was." 
 
 " Indeed, mother ! " observed the young man, 
 rather coolly ; and bending down his head, because he 
 was very much occupied in playing with the old pus- 
 sy's ears, just then, he added, " But where's Mary 
 Wilmot, mother ? You say nothing about her." 
 
 This little interrogatory came out of James's throat 
 very much as the potato wad snaps out of a boy's pop- 
 gun. Mrs. Butler's damsel, who was busy at the other 
 end of the room about household affairs, but had not 
 thought it necessary rigidly to close her ears to the 
 conversation, shrugged her shoulders slightly, and, 
 having her back to the interlocutors, further indulged 
 in a decided smile. The widow, however, taking no 
 heed of the manner in which the question was asked, 
 replied to it : " O ! Mary Wilmot's been away at an 
 uncle's, that lives somewhere on the Kennebec, for 
 nearly a year. That's why I never thought of her, I 
 suppose. They say she is going to marry a young 
 minister there." 
 
 The spectacles were still off duty, and Mrs. But- 
 ler, moreover, very intent upon her knitting. James, 
 too, was busier than ever with the cat's ears, and his 
 head dropped even lower than before. The maiden 
 across the room shrugged her shoulders again, but she 
 did not smile. James made no direct reply, and grew 
 very sententious and brief, till his mother had the con- 
 versation pretty much to herself. This seemed to 
 make little difference to her. She rambled on, string- 
 ing together all sorts of matters, as they came to hand. 
 At last, perceiving that her son's attention flagged, 
 she rose to overlook the preparations for dinner.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 65 
 
 " I suppose these matters don't seem much to you, 
 James, after living so long in Boston." 
 
 James made no answer to the implied question, but 
 took up his cap, saying that he would walk round and 
 take a look at the farm before dinner.
 
 66 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WE have already said that Butler had been long ab- 
 sent from the village where his childhood had passed. 
 His father had died several years before, and his 
 mother gladly accepted the kind offer of her brother, 
 a merchant of note in Boston, to receive young James 
 into his family and business also at a future day. It 
 pained the widow to part with her only child, but 
 the advantage to her son's education and prospects was 
 not to be overlooked. She therefore dispatched him 
 for a journey which, in the state of the country then, 
 was a matter of no small moment, especially to her 
 mind. 
 
 For four years, James had remained with his uncle. 
 Two of them were devoted to completing his studies, 
 which had necessarily been limited and desultory, and 
 the other two spent in the counting-room of his relation, 
 and in reading and the investigation of such matters as 
 arrested his attention. He had left his home a strong, 
 manly, and energetic boy, but rather behindhand in 
 mere scholastic attainments, but perhaps little the 
 worse for that. 
 
 The want of the drill usually bestowed on children 
 in preparatory schools is, after all, no great loss, at 
 least to strong and active intellects. Give a promising 
 boy sufficient early instruction to enable him to read, 
 to calculate, and think for himself, and you will have
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 67 
 
 done for him all that would be absolutely necessary, 
 and most that will be especially profitable, until the 
 mind matui'es sufficiently to appreciate, for itself, the 
 value of information and the use of principles. Except 
 in rare cases, a child cannot be expected to be an ear- 
 nest student, and very many of the exceptions to the 
 general rule prove to be unfortunate. To the active, 
 healthy child, the lesson cannot fail to be literally a 
 task, whose meaning and real purpose he does not 
 comprehend. It is a burden antagonistic to the in- 
 stincts and physical necessities of his being. Nature 
 says, " Go play, and grow healthy, robust, and active. 
 Go and fit yourself for the common toils of manhood. 
 Go and learn the external features at least of the world 
 in which you are to live and of the materials with 
 which you are to deal." 
 
 But father and fashion say, " Go to school, study, 
 learn ; if you do not, you can never be anything." Now 
 father and fashion are right, in a measure. Knowl- 
 edge and education are the great means of happiness 
 and success. But there is still an open question of the 
 modes, the times, and the degrees. All education is 
 not to be got in schools, nor all knowledge from books. 
 The first requisites of humanity are health and strength. 
 Without these, accomplishments and acquirements are 
 unsatisfactory to their possessor, and comparatively use- 
 less to the world. The mind is even often dwarfed 
 and blunted by this premature discipline, as well as 
 dragged down and enfeebled by its sympathy with 
 puny and diseased frames. 
 
 Let children learn to read, and more if they will. 
 But let them have plenty of play and light work suited 
 to their years. Be they boy or girl, let them walk, 
 ride, swim, skate, and mix with all that is going on
 
 68 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 about them. Then, at twelve or thirteen years of age, 
 you will have a foundation, intellectual, moral, and 
 physical, upon which to form a true, useful, and effi- 
 cient rnan or woman. 
 
 James Butler was a favorable illustration of this fact. 
 His clear mind soon mastered the very moderate 
 amount of school instruction attainable at Merrifield. 
 His spare time and energies were expended in hunting, 
 fishing, riding, and intelligent observation of men and 
 things. To some, such a course of life might have had 
 its dangers ; but he left his home, for the metropolis 
 of New England, an energetic, high-minded, and keen- 
 sighted lad, ready for any exertion of mind or body. 
 He rapidly acquired at the academy the formulas of 
 elementary knowledge, and in the period passed in the 
 counting-room he applied them sagaciously and suc- 
 cessfully to practice ; employing also his leisure hours 
 in a diligent course of general reading. He thus re- 
 turned home, at the age of twenty-two, an able and 
 well-informed man. Indeed, his acquirements might 
 bear favorable comparison with any but proficients in 
 a finished course of classical studies. In that early 
 day, there were few who attempted an education so 
 ambitious. Unless intended for the learned professions 
 as the business of their lives, the youths of the time 
 were seldom able or willing to meet the expenditure 
 and trouble. The exigencies of a new country called 
 them early into the active duties of life. 
 
 Thus, James, imperfect as this training might now 
 be considered, was fitted amply to follow the prompt- 
 ings of an active mind in the successful maintenance 
 of a leading part in society. 
 
 It may be seriously doubted whether a carefully fin- 
 ished and elaborate culture is, altogether, the best mode
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 69 
 
 of obtaining "assurance of a man," a man fitted 
 to grapple with circumstances and fulfil the heavy 
 tasks of time. It gives the delicate edge and temper 
 of Saladin's scimetar, rather than the downright and 
 stalwart sweep of the sword of the Lion Heart. To 
 the systematic scholar, to the professional and scientific 
 man, it is essential ; to the European classes of hered- 
 itary wealth and ease, it is an appropriate and becom- 
 ing ornament. But, in the common course of our 
 more democratic experience, there are more iron bars 
 than down cushions to be dealt withal. However this 
 abstruse point may be settled, Dame Butler looked 
 upon her son with a pride and affection that could not 
 very well admit of increase. His acquirements and 
 experience, moderate though they might be, tran- 
 scended all her means of comparison, so that they were, 
 to all intents and purposes, infinite to her. From the 
 time of his return, the sceptre passed from the hands 
 of Deacon Hardy to those of its legitimate heir in the 
 household. Out-of-doors, too, James's influence soon 
 superseded, to a great extent, the ascetic and unpopu- 
 lar ascendency of that ungenial dignitary. 
 
 None of these speculations, however, occupied 
 James's mind, as he proceeded on his walk. Although 
 he had professed the natural desire to look round upon 
 the well-remembered scenes of his childhood once 
 more, his curiosity appeared to be easily appeased. 
 He paused a moment on the step, cast a hasty glance 
 upon the village and the little river, and then, turning 
 short to the rear of the house, hurried off through the 
 
 O 
 
 fields and pastures towards the high ridge that bounded 
 the valley on its western side, stretching its massive 
 length along till it terminated in the cliffs of a rocky 
 promontory on the sea-coast. His rapid steps soon
 
 70 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 carried him, through the little belt of cultivation that 
 surrounded the village, into a desolate region, where 
 the natural growth had fallen before the fires kindled 
 to clear the farming lands, without being replaced by 
 the tamer and softer beauties of a landscape improved 
 by human industry. The bald ledges on the summits 
 gleamed out, barren and dreary, and stripped of the 
 mossy carpet and the withered leaves that had once 
 partly concealed their sterile ugliness. The wreck of 
 the forest, that once covered the rough ground, lay pros- 
 trate around in all stages of decay ; forming a laby- 
 rinth of ruin, black with the uneffaced marks of the 
 destroying element, or bleaching beneath the sunshine 
 and the storm. Here and there, among these wasting 
 skeletons, a tall trunk still rose, withered and branch- 
 less, lone sentinel above its fallen comrades. Occa- 
 sionally a swamp relieved the utter barrenness of the 
 scene with a patch of verdure, where alder- bushes were 
 interspersed with straggling trees that still maintained 
 a miserable and blighted vegetation. It was, as it were, 
 the grave-yard of the native forest, such as may be 
 seen in the vicinity of all new settlements, smutty, 
 dank, inhospitable, and cheerless. 
 
 The melancholy landscape had one redeeming fea- 
 ture ; the destruction of the trees had laid open a wide 
 prospect to the southward, and the distant Atlantic glis- 
 tened in the bright sunshine. The harbor at the riv- 
 er's mouth was distinctly seen through the clear at- 
 mosphere, with its little fleet of coasting vessels lying 
 at anchor, and the white sails of fishing-boats skimming 
 over the bay, among islands clothed with dark spruces. 
 On one side, lay the valley of the Narraguagus with 
 the rude dwellings scattered up and down its banks. 
 Elsewhere, the deep fringe of forest bordered the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 71 
 
 view, with the blue hills and craggy mountains rising 
 all around from its unbroken sea of green. 
 
 James seated himself upon a fallen trunk ; and the 
 old house-dog, who had been anxiously awaiting. his 
 reappearance, ever since their short colloquy in the 
 morning, and had escorted his steps with gambols of 
 overrunning happiness, lay down quietly in front of 
 him, his head nestled upon his master's feet, except 
 when it was raised now and then with a look of deep 
 content, as if to reassure himself that the sudden 
 restoration of his old playmate was not the illusion 
 of a dream. 
 
 Butler gazed for a moment upon the familiar scene ; 
 his own reflections then seemed to take complete pos- 
 session of his mind ; and though he looked listlessly 
 over the prospect, he saw nothing but what lay in his 
 own heart. 
 
 He had carried with him to the far-off city fond 
 recollections of the woods and lakes, the rivers and 
 mountains of his rugged but picturesque birthplace. 
 In a sacred and warm corner of his memory too, the 
 image of a fair and graceful girl, his favorite playmate 
 in childhood and the idol of the dawning passions of 
 his youth, had accompanied him in his pilgrimage. 
 The busy and brilliant scenes of the town had failed 
 to wean him from his love of the rough grandeur and 
 romantic beauty of his native valley ; and the polished 
 belles of the metropolis never superseded in his fancy 
 the image of the frank and cordial girl that had been 
 the romance of his early life. For he was one of 
 those who make their own world ; and impassive to 
 the distraction of passing objects, adhere tenaciously 
 to everything once intimately associated with their life. 
 When he determined to give up the hopes of wealth
 
 72 SAN SHIRK: 
 
 and social distinction held out to his ambition in the busy 
 world, for the simple pleasures of his secluded home, 
 it was the bright memory of Mary Wilmot that shed 
 the golden sunshine over his anticipations. Her well- 
 remembered form seemed to beckon him back to spend 
 his life in unaspiring content among the scenes of his 
 childhood. In the bashful timidity of deep feeling he 
 had lured his mother on through her rambling remi- 
 niscences, in the vain expectation of hearing of her 
 unaltered in herself, unchanged to him. 
 
 When, in answer to his reluctant question, he heard 
 the brief but decisive fact that she was absent and had 
 given herself to another, the revulsion of his feelings 
 was painful and bitter. He had turned his back upon 
 flowery paths and bright prospects, to find the charmed 
 retreat of contented love which his fancy had framed, 
 the life-long home of his affections, blighted by a with- 
 ering frost that turned all its beautiful blossoms of hope 
 into black despair. He had pushed his journey 
 homeward with eager haste. Overtaken by night, 
 some dozen miles from Merrifield, he had scarcely 
 closed his eyes ; and early dawn found him in the sad- 
 dle, speeding to his goal. The familiar landscape 
 shone bright to his vision in the glad June morning ; 
 and happy associations shed a light about him more 
 cheering than that of the summer day. But now his 
 spirit was darkened, and it seemed as if a dull leaden 
 cloud had overspread the smiling scene. 
 
 He pondered gloomily over the sudden chill that 
 had struck him to the heart. The old dog raised him- 
 self from time to time to lick his hand in disconsolate 
 but vague sympathy with his moody silence ; and laid 
 down again in quiet disappointment, as he missed the 
 usual acknowledgment of his faithful affection.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 73 
 
 " What a fool was I," murmured Butler to him- 
 self, " to suppose that, because I had never forgotten 
 her, she must necessarily have treasured me in her 
 heart. Perhaps she never thought again of our child- 
 ish friendship, or thought of it only as a pleasant pas- 
 time, that had gone by and served its turn. And now 
 she is to marry a long-faced, white-era vated parson ! 
 a nice sort of a rival ! Well, I have nothing to do 
 but to forget too. If I find it too hard work, I'll go 
 back to Boston, make a fortune and marry some Wash- 
 ington Street beauty. They're to be had for a price, 
 like everything else. If I cannot venture on my 
 personal merits, I can buy a wife ' to order.' ' With 
 this ingeniously contrived revenge, he fancied himself 
 somewhat comforted. As he looked up, poor Watch 
 lifted his own head once more, and silently licking his 
 hand, gazed, with a look of anxious love that yearned 
 to be recognized, into his face. The youth smiled, 
 though somewhat bitterly, upon his humble companion, 
 and kindly patted his shaggy head. 
 
 " Ah, good old Watch, you didn't forget me, did 
 you ! Because you're only a dog, I suppose, and not 
 a man or a woman. How many of us are as disin- 
 terested and true as you ? " 
 
 So he rose from his seat, jerked a stone at a squirrel 
 that was rambling about among the brushwood, and 
 consulting his watch, found that dinner would be ready 
 by the time he should reach home. His companion, 
 rejoiced at the dispersal of the cloud, gamboled joy- 
 fully along at his side, and they turned their steps 
 toward the house again.
 
 74 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BUTLER was candid and generous, though clear- 
 headed and shrewd. He saw plainly the deficiencies 
 and imperfections around him ; but he had too much 
 good feeling and high impulse, to be either morose and 
 ascetic, or selfish and exacting. He knew his own 
 rights and interests, but he was neither bitter at en- 
 croachment or denial of them, nor overbearing or 
 egotistic in their assertion. His sympathies were too 
 strong to allow him to be unkind, and his sense of 
 right too great to permit him to be unjust. He was 
 not unimaginative, and he was moderately sanguine ; 
 and therefore more inclined to overrate than to depre- 
 ciate what he could find of good. It was easier for 
 him to be amiable than censorious ; though not from 
 lack of acute discrimination. His heart revolted from 
 intentional wrong, and his intellect scorned it as a 
 meanness that insulted his self-respect. Deeply as 
 he felt the capriciousness of Mary Wilmot, he did not 
 attempt to resent it seriously, though his self-love 
 could not but be deeply wounded. She had been 
 throned in his memory as a queen, invested with all 
 her own real worth, and all the impossible perfections 
 of a lover's fancy. Though she was his no longer, he 
 was loyal still. Though compelled to relinquish her, 
 he found no satisfaction in depreciating her merits, 
 or disparaging her conduct. His boyish fancy had
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 75 
 
 strength sufficient to survive a long separation, during 
 which, it had perhaps been increased by the power of 
 association and imagination, those potent influences 
 having never been diverted to any new object of 
 attraction. Still there was in the predilection, pure 
 and generous and unbroken as it was, none of the 
 vehemence of maturer passion ; and its disappointment 
 brought with it none of the bitterness of a sterner 
 mood. It would have readily developed into fierce 
 heat, but it had not yet done so ; and was still but the 
 milder glow of youthful fancy. Butler moreover con- 
 cluded within himself that his chances might not yet 
 be desperate. The information might be incorrect, 
 and an allowable vanity whispered that Mary Wilmot 
 might have more taste and discrimination than she had 
 been credited with. His buoyancy revived as he 
 approached home ; and as he looked down the long, 
 rough slopes that led to the river and the village 
 streets that ran along its banks, he felt ready almost to 
 stop and shake hands with every straggling tree, and 
 smile his recognition upon every stump upon the well- 
 remembered ground. At last, he wound up with a 
 race and a romp with old Watch, as boisterous and 
 merry as in the childish days gone by. 
 
 " How strange," thought he, " are some of our 
 feelings ! Why should I look upon this half-savage 
 landscape, and this dull little village with such a 
 boyish delight, for which I could not give a respectable 
 reason, if I should die for it ? And yet, after all, why 
 need there be any reason at all about it ? It's my home, 
 and it suits me ; and why not ? There's something 
 in us better than reason ; and it's lucky for us that it's 
 stronger too, or life would be about as interesting as 
 one of Uncle John's russia-backed ledgers. This is my
 
 76 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 home and that's my house, and in it is my dear good 
 old mother. There's no syllogism in Aristotle comes 
 to a conclusion half so convincing as that." 
 
 This scrap of philosophy brought James to his own 
 door. After a gentle reproach from his mother on the 
 score of jeopardizing by tardiness the perfection of her 
 culinary labors, he sat down with a light and grateful 
 heart at the old-fashioned 'mahogany table, that had 
 been in his young eyes at once a wonder and a daily 
 joy. The subsidiary accompaniments of his claw- 
 footed friend, were equally familiar and equally dear. 
 There were the old china plates with their grotesque 
 jumble of a pattern, where boats and bridges, trees, 
 rivers, and clouds were combined in a manner that no 
 one ever could have devised but that same Chinaman 
 with the umbrella hat and pig-tail, that stood on one 
 shore of the river, as tall as the pagoda at his elbow ; 
 with his feet at the foot of a hill, and his head in the 
 clouds above it. There was the old fat-bellied little 
 silver teapot, with the nose sticking out one way, and 
 the handle rounded out on the other ; looking, on its 
 straddling legs, like a corpulent hen running after a 
 grasshopper. Old and long-valued acquaintances were 
 these, as well as their companion utensils of minor 
 pretensions. The benign, placid, and affectionate face, 
 that smiled on him as of yore across the table, all 
 these young Butler would not have exchanged for a 
 monarch's board, or for more than regal magnificence. 
 Indeed, he would have been very ungrateful to have 
 been less than content ; for infinite had been the com- 
 *motion caused by his unexpected arrival, in the quiet 
 little household. His mother had spent the livelong 
 morning, with her zealous coadjutor, in emulous dili- 
 gence to expand the noon-day meal into a style and
 
 77 
 
 pretension worthy of the joyful occasion. Cupboards 
 had been ransacked ; and preserve-pots, with all other 
 treasure-houses of extraordinary luxury, had con- 
 tributed to the entertainment. In new countries, 
 people cannot often obtain just what they please, and 
 are obliged to take things somewhat as they happen to 
 come. The delicate distinctions and nice etiquette of 
 fashionable gourmandism might have been shocked at 
 the widow's dinner-table. Yet it was, as the good 
 lady flattered herself, excellent in kind, and abundant 
 in quantity and variety. To fastidious and highly 
 trained tastes it might have seemed too multifarious 
 
 O 
 
 and indiscriminate. There were the pair of fat roasted 
 partridges, plump and fragrant with the flavor of wild 
 berries and tender buds, the rich and succulent steaks 
 of venison, and the delicious salmon trout, fresh and 
 pure to the taste as the mountain brook where they 
 grew, and fried to the very perfection of crispy brown. 
 To these fundamental elements of the feast, the hos- 
 pitable matron had added a host of pies, cakes, and 
 doughnuts and fritters, with cheese, butter, preserves 
 of strawberry, cranberry, blackberry, and raspberry, 
 each in its separate saucer, as if it were a world's fair 
 of culinary art, as practiced in that forest neighborhood. 
 The mantling steam of the delicate infusion of tea 
 poured out its fragrance from the hen-like silver pot, 
 and rich cream and snowy sugar stood ready to en- 
 hance and mellow its exquisite flavor. 
 
 With pride and pleasure the widow surveyed her 
 crowded board, as her darling son placed himself once 
 more in his father's chair at its side. Had her re- 
 sources comprised as much more, it would, as like as 
 not, have been added to this avalanche of dainties. 
 
 In the earlier days of New England, wholesome and
 
 78 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 palatable viands were more plentiful than formal 
 courtesies, elaborate elegancies, or splendid apparatus. 
 The warm-hearted housewives of that day were led, 
 therefore, to express their good-will to visitors in the 
 form most palpable to their simple habits of thought 
 and life ; and the extent of the welcome was indicated, 
 in some measure, by the profusion of hospitable prep- 
 aration. 
 
 Too happy herself to eat, Mrs. Butler devoted her- 
 self to piling portion after portion upon her son's plate, 
 chiding him gently for not eating, wondering that he 
 had no appetite, and pressing upon him, in due succes- 
 sion, every dish of her profuse banquet. 
 
 Youthful appetite and recent exercise enabled her 
 son to do admirable credit to the cookery. But, at 
 last, after playing with the various relays of preserves, 
 cakes, and other condiments, which the widow seemed 
 to think might be insinuated into a full stomach, 
 as the sailor crams what he calls dunnage into the 
 crevices and interstices of his lading, he was com- 
 pelled to make a formal protest of his inability to 
 dispose of another mouthful. 
 
 " Why, dear mother, I should think you supposed 
 that I had gone hungry for a week past, and was in 
 danger of getting no more for a week to come. You 
 must really save the rest for another time." 
 
 At this moment, his mother's officious kindness was 
 interrupted by a knock at the door, followed immedi- 
 ately by the appearance of Deacon Hardy ; who had 
 dropped in, as he came by from his own noonday 
 meal, to welcome Butler home, and also to satisfy 
 some little private ends of his own. 
 
 The Deacon shook hands with cordial warmth ; 
 for he liked James, as everybody did that knew him.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 79 
 
 The worthy functionary also regarded him as a sort 
 of unliquidated assets of the church-sanctioned copart- 
 nery dissolved by the death of his father. In this light, 
 the Deacon felt a personal responsibility as surviving 
 partner, to whose care all unfinished business naturally 
 devolved. His universal propensity to dictation and 
 control over everything within his reach, together with 
 an unquestionably real interest in his self-adopted 
 ward, was further much increased by the idea that his 
 own importance and influence were amplified and ex- 
 tended in young Butler's person. To be the family 
 friend and informal guardian of the estates of his 
 deceased coadjutor was a feather for the cap, even of 
 so great a man as the living dignitary. He was also 
 prompted to this early visit by two additional motives. 
 During Jarnes' boyhood, Hardy had maintained a 
 precarious authority in the household ; supported on 
 one side by his own really friendly, though obstinately 
 officious zeal, and often thwarted on the other by the 
 natural independence of the boy, backed by the indul- 
 gence of a fond mother for an only child. He desired 
 now to ascertain the probable extent of his future 
 control over James' opinions and movements ; and he 
 was in a perfect fever of anxiety to remedy what he 
 chose to consider a great mistake of the widow in her 
 donation to Sam Shirk. The latter transaction he 
 hoped to place on what he considered a more prudent 
 footing, by inducing Butler's interference in the mat- 
 ter. The economical relations of the case were so 
 obvious and so controlling, in his mind, that he did not 
 doubt that James would immediately decide to revoke 
 or greatly modify his mother's gift, the way to -such 
 a course of action having been opened by Sam himself 
 in the careless destruction of the deed, which had not
 
 80 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 yet been replaced. This transaction of Shirk's with 
 Jem Sharpe, had been made known to the Deacon by 
 his vexed patroness ; and was sufficient to ruin his 
 reputation with the shrewd and minute man of busi- 
 ness, if indeed he had had any reputation with him to 
 lose. 
 
 Before entering upon business, however, Deacon 
 Hardy, for his own private satisfaction, took a cool and 
 deliberate survey of James himself. 
 
 Seating himself in a chair and planting his cane 
 between his feet, he rested both hands upon its ivory 
 head, and inspected his young friend minutely from 
 top to toe. James winced and colored for a moment 
 under the cool and undisguised scrutiny ; for the old 
 man examined him precisely as he would an ox in his 
 barnyard, or a fatting hog in his own stye. Why 
 shouldn't he ? He, Deacon Hardy, had an opinion to 
 make up on his behalf, and how else should he do it ? 
 
 The Deacon was a horrible egoist, in truth. Too 
 strong minded to be vulgarly conceited, he had still 
 an implicit confidence in his own conclusions. Had 
 he worn a crown, he would have said with Louis, le 
 grand Monarque, " The State I that's me." 
 
 Luckily for his neighbors, his power was limited, if 
 his arrogance was not. Yet the old fellow would not 
 have been an unprincipled tyrant ; though in many 
 cases he might have been a tyrant upon principle. 
 He said and did nothing, but on long and often pain- 
 ful consideration, and upon fore-ordained convictions 
 that had become an integral part of his moral being ; 
 and he could not conceive of a sane man coming to 
 any results differing from his own. He was, to do 
 him justice, generally sagacious in his deductions ; but 
 he could not understand that men must necessarily
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 81 
 
 differ in their judgments and opinions. The proverb, 
 " So many men, so many minds," was flat heresy with 
 him. He denied the right of private judgment to his 
 fellows, as coolly and as resolutely as the Pope. He 
 was therefore amazed, some twenty times a day, on an 
 average, at the incredible folly and obstinacy of such 
 as could not see through his spectacles. Still, he went 
 on, day after day, interfering, advising, and dictating 
 for the good of his neighbors, with the perseverance 
 of a martyr ; for he would really do good, if he could 
 without any great sacrifice to himself; and he hated 
 to see anything go wrong or run to waste, especially 
 under his own nose and in defiance of his own opinion. 
 
 When he came to explain his views upon the matter 
 of Sam Shirk, he was grievously disappointed at the 
 reception they met with. In vain he recounted all 
 the peccadilloes of which Sam had been guilty, as well 
 as some of which he probably did not deserve the 
 credit. Sam's character was one of those, whose very 
 virtues often wore the garb of genial foibles at best, 
 in the eye of severe criticism, and were even sins to 
 a man like Hardy ; while his faults admitted a wide 
 latitude of construction, between the half-approving 
 pity of chanty, and the stern condemnation of formal 
 censoriousness. His case was now in the hands of a 
 harsh critic, and was made out unsparingly black and 
 unpromising against him. But Butler knew both the 
 accuser and the accused, and listened with respectful 
 indifference ; until, when the Deacon, having exhausted 
 his eloquence, culminated his harangue with his favor- 
 ite depreciatory proverb, that " silk purses couldn't 
 be made out of sows' ears," he laughed outright. 
 
 The Deacon enforced his closing argument with a 
 sturdy thump upon the floor with his stick ; and sat 
 6
 
 82 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 resting his chin between his hands, upon the head of 
 his cane, as if he were planting himself in a position 
 that only a fool or a madman would dream of attack- 
 ing;. 
 
 O 
 
 At Butler's irreverent treatment of his final apo- 
 thegm, he started, and drawing up his head, visited 
 the youth with a look such as a Pythian priestess 
 might have bestowed on the impious heathen who 
 should have ridiculed the Delphic oracle. 
 
 Before either could speak, the simple-minded dame 
 replied to his concluding observation : " Well, to be 
 sure, nobody could make silk purses out of sows' ears, 
 and I shouldn't want to try. But, Deacon, three 
 years ago I bought a little pig, and it was the meanest 
 runt of a pig that you ever saw. But I couldn't get 
 any better ; for I remember that somehow pigs were 
 awful skerce that season. Everybody said it wan't 
 worth bringing up ; but I couldn't bear to see all the 
 slops going to waste, so I tried what I could make of 
 him. I dare say I took extra pains, because he was 
 such a miserable creature. Well, he grew and did 
 first-rate after all ; and when I had him killed, he was 
 about as handsome a hog as ever we had. I don't 
 justly recollect what he weighed ; but he was a noble 
 hog, and better pork I never put down in a barrel." 
 
 The widow paused in pleased reminiscence of the 
 exemplary pig. James caught the drift of his mother's 
 apologue and smiled again. The Deacon sat in sullen 
 dignity, though ruffled by his evident defeat. Wel- 
 lington, when he saw the squadrons of Napoleon 
 charge and break, for the last time, on his unfaltering 
 squares, could not have looked more proudly. He was 
 always as proud in defeat as in victory. For while 
 he considered success but as the natural sequence of
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 83 
 
 presupposed infallibility, failure was at once proof of 
 the perversity of his opponents and the glorious crown 
 of the martyr to unappreciated truth. 
 
 So all three sat silent for a minute or two : the 
 good old lady in placid meditation, her son in the 
 mood commonly denominated sniggering, and the Dea- 
 con, severe and undismayed, if discomfited. He lis- 
 tened to the stoiy of the pig, with that impassive quiet 
 which so happily combines the expression of respect 
 for the speaker with profound contempt for the speech. 
 As the silence began to grow oppressive, he ejaculated 
 a pettish, " Well," which might either be interpreted, 
 "What of all that?" or in the milder sense of, 
 " Yes, yes, no doubt, but what about the matter we 
 were speaking of ? " 
 
 The widow, recalled by his voice from the grave of 
 the departed porker, reechoed the exclamation, 
 
 " Well, I mean to say that I think Sam may be 
 more like that runt than like sows' ears. Maybe he'll 
 grow good for something, when he has the chance." 
 
 The Deacon looked at her with an expression of 
 grave dissent, and shook his head, but said not a word. 
 Turning again to James he saw by the expression of 
 his face, that he had no hopes of success ; and again 
 he summed up his internal reflections with the same 
 "Well." 
 
 What a blessed word is that little compound of four 
 letters ! It means everything and it means nothing 
 at all. It is sufficient to let off any quantity of accu- 
 mulated wrath or any amount of contempt, yet leaves 
 no room for quarrel. Most felicitously ambiguous, it 
 means one thing to the speaker and another to the 
 hearer, being understood by each in his own way. 
 
 " Well, well," says Smith, meaning thereby, " It
 
 84 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 you're fool enough to think so, think so, and be 
 
 */ o * * 
 
 hanged!" His friend Jones translates it: "I an't 
 sure that I agree, but I shan't dispute with a gentle- 
 man of your intelligence." 
 
 Brown considers his " Well, well," to mean, " You 
 are such an ass that it's of no use to argue with you ; " 
 while the ass takes it to express, virtually, " Probably 
 you know best ; but I never saw it in that way be- 
 fore." 
 
 Better than all the Peace Societies, Presidents, 
 Secretaries, Committees and all, is this little polite, 
 hypocritical monosyllable. Like the finished man of 
 the world, it can flatter or insult, cajole or sneer, all 
 in a breath, and all with imperturbable serenity. 
 
 Under cover of this friendly mystery, the Deacon 
 exhaled his indignation ; and the dame expressed her 
 determination to have her own way. 
 
 James, too, said to himself, " Well, I guess mother's 
 about right ; " and in consummation of the whole 
 matter subjoined also mentally, 
 
 " Well, the old deacon meant right enough too ; 
 but he's a quiddle." 
 
 So all was well, Sam Shirk's cause included.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 85 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AT the conclusion of Deacon Hardy's call, or recon- 
 noissance, as it might be considered, James felt some- 
 thing of that mental oppression which the bustle and 
 hurry of excited feeling leave behind them. The nat- 
 ural disposition for solitary and quiet reflection which 
 a plunge into a new scene, calling up numerous asso- 
 ciations and awakening deep emotions, always induces, 
 also cooperated with physical weariness to produce the 
 same effect. 
 
 He therefore proposed to go to his chamber for an 
 hour's rest. His mother was sitting motionless in her 
 chair too much absorbed even to knit, not precisely in 
 reflection, but in what she would herself have called 
 a mismaze. Her heart had borne her triumphantly 
 through the dispute with the Deacon ; but now her 
 mind was painfully going over the ground again, in a 
 conscientious endeavor to comprehend the real merits 
 of the case. Like an officer who, after a fiery charge 
 which had swept his enemy like chaff before him, re- 
 turning leisurely over the disputed ground and making 
 his way among mangled corpses and mutilated suffer- 
 ers, feels the current of his ideas changed by the mel- 
 ancholy accompaniments of his triumph, and begins to 
 question the fierce excitement and the proud joy of 
 victory, the good lady was sorely perplexed by a 
 scrupulous fear, lest she had, unwittingly, in the heat
 
 86 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 of discussion, deviated from the straight and narrow 
 path of duty. She felt she was right, but could not 
 for her life tell why ; and it was equally dark to her 
 how the Deacon was, or could be wrong. There was 
 no particle of logic in her composition ; and the more 
 she thought about the matter, the more she worked 
 
 O ' 
 
 herself into a desperate and despairing worry. Her 
 son easily guessed what was going on in her mind ; and 
 taking her hand affectionately, said with a quiet smile, 
 " Now, dear mother, don't trouble yourself any more 
 about that. I will take it all off your hands, and settle 
 it according both to law and gospel." 
 
 " O, dear me, do James." The shadow passed 
 away, and the placid contentment came over the old 
 lady's kindly face, as when a cloud blows over and lets 
 the sunshine in again upon the landscape. She was 
 delighted to be relieved of all further necessity for 
 thought or care ; and it was doubly delightful to throw 
 her burden on the manly shoulders of her own hand- 
 some, open-hearted boy, instead of her old ghostly 
 father confessor, the stiff, captious, and awful Deacon. 
 
 " Now mother, you just take a little afternoon nap. 
 I mean to do the same myself," continued James, 
 " for I feel a trifle tired. I did not stop much upon 
 my road home, and an hour's sleep will not be amiss." 
 
 The good dame now found a new and more congen- 
 ial subject for her ideas to ramble over, in anxiety for 
 her son's health ; and she forthwith urged him to stop 
 till she could make for him a cup of herb tea, the 
 materials for which she kept constantly at hand and 
 which was, in her belief, a sure prophylactic against 
 colds, nervousness, fatigue, and most mortal ills. 
 
 James however declined the herb tea, pleading a 
 need of nothing but a little rest ; and kissing his 
 mother's cheek, turned to leave the room.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 87 
 
 " Well, my son, have a good nap. We will call 
 you for tea. And, James, won't it be better for you 
 to see Deacon Hardy again about Sam ? " added she ; 
 for she could not yet entirely divest herself of the 
 sense of responsibility in acting without the approval 
 of a man to whose opinion she had so long yielded 
 implicit deference. 
 
 " O yes, mother, I shall see the Deacon twenty 
 times a day, you know," replied James evasively. 
 But, for his part, although he did not think it worth 
 while to say so, he had determined that the Deacon 
 should have nothing more to do with it. 
 
 So saying, he went up the narrow staircase which 
 led to the little attic chamber which had been always 
 called his own. As he entered the small room, with 
 its low ceiling and plain plastered walls, and simple 
 furniture, the contrast with the spacious apartments 
 and handsome appurtenances of the city mansions, 
 with which he had so long been familiar, struck him 
 momentarily with a disagreeable impression of insig- 
 nificance and discomfort. But when, after drawing 
 off his boots, he stretched himself upon the fresh, 
 clean, snow-white bed and leisurely looked around the 
 room, a more truthful and healthy feeling came over 
 him, refreshing to his spirit as the cool, soft June 
 breeze that poured in at the windows was to his tired 
 and somewhat fevered frame. In the recognition of 
 objects so familiar, though at first half strange from 
 long absence, memory and affection supplied what 
 experience and taste found lacking. In the corner 
 still stood his fishing-rod and gun, with the shot-pouch 
 and powder-flask hanging from the head of the ram- 
 rod, just as he had left them. His inkstand, pencils, 
 and two or three favorite books, lay upon the little
 
 i 
 
 88 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 round claw-footed table in the middle of the floor, 
 seeming, except from their scrupulous order and neat 
 array, as if they had waited for the four long years in 
 daily expectation of their owner's return. The little 
 library of his boyhood stood in regular and carefully 
 dusted rows upon the shelves ; and everything bore 
 the marks of fond care and unforgotten associations 
 with an absent loved one. In truth, on every Satur- 
 day morning, his mother had for every week through- 
 out his protracted absence, religiously climbed the 
 stairs " to set James' room to rights," or, in other 
 words, to put in order what was already and always 
 perfectly so. But she was wont, on these hebdom- 
 adal visits, to dust and carefully replace every article, 
 to arrange and rearrange, until ingenuity was at fault 
 to find a pretext for further industry. Then the old 
 lady would often seat herself upon one of the little 
 straight-backed chairs and think dreamily of her dis- 
 tant and darling boy, oblivious of fatigue and of every- 
 thing but her fond recollections, till summoned to din- 
 ner by her handmaiden. And, if the door of the 
 little closet by the side of the chimney had been open, 
 James might have seen the wardrobe he had cast off, 
 when fitted out for his momentous journey to the 
 metropolis, carefully hung upon the pegs and gar- 
 landed with white cedar sprigs to keep the moths 
 away, altogether regardless of the evident fact that it 
 was a thing obsolete and forever useless. But the 
 soft-hearted mother could not spare even a rag that 
 reminded her of the child so far away ; and she cher- 
 ished and guarded with zealous care the smallest and 
 meanest thing that could recall the rosy-cheeked and 
 curly-headed urchin, whom she had so often laid to 
 sleep in this little chamber, after listening to the child-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 89 
 
 ish prayer repeated at her knee. The maternal in- 
 stinct in a bosom like her's is like the unreasoning 
 zeal of the devotee, who sees every wretched bit of 
 ribbon and paltry candle-end adorning the shrine of 
 her favorite saint all gilded with the light of her own 
 unlimited devotion ; and finds a reverent and un- 
 bounded delight in arranging the valueless offerings, 
 as if they were pearls of price. 
 
 These silent evidences of love, pure and unstinting, 
 if unregulated by logic or wordly limitations, moved 
 the heart of the returned wanderer ; and a tear stood 
 in his eye, as he murmured a blessing on his mother, 
 and his humble home. Presently, however, his 
 thoughts wandered to a younger and fairer subject. 
 The news, given by his mother, of the engagement of 
 Mary Wilmot had deeply shocked him ; though manly 
 pride and the hurry of his fresh return had kept the 
 matter in abeyance for a time of quiet and solitude. 
 He had journeyed home with an impression upon his 
 mind, which however dubious, he could not resist, 
 probably because he did not wish to resist it, that his 
 arrival would find Mary on one of her not unfrequent 
 visits to his mother ; and that her hand would be 
 among the first to greet his, and her kind eyes speak a 
 bright welcome on his coming. However small and 
 uncertain the basis of the anticipation to cool consider- 
 ation, it was an annoying reverse to hear that she not 
 only was far distant, but perhaps beyond his reach for- 
 ever. 
 
 He felt as if he had been somehow defrauded, if not 
 of a right, at least of an opportunity that belonged to 
 him. But as he proceeded to try the case inforo con- 
 scientice, he was forced to admit, that he could make 
 out no substantial grievance on any party on whom he
 
 90 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 could urge a claim or enforce a remedy. He was of 
 that equable temperament which is best adapted to 
 secure the happiness of its owner, as well as of his 
 neighbors, in this rough world. His affections, though 
 strong, were not so impetuous and unreasoning as to 
 cloud or mislead judgment ; neither was his intellect 
 so exacting and overbearing as to cramp or perplex his 
 affections. He could quietly take things in the con- 
 crete, with all their mixed good and evil ; without ex- 
 pecting to regulate the shortcomings and annoyances 
 of an imperfect world, by his own presumptions of inter- 
 est and abstract right, or worrying unprofitably over 
 what was inevitable. His thoughts soon assumed a 
 more peaceful cast. He mused awhile over the scenes 
 of days gone by, when Mary was the favorite and 
 genial companion of his childish sports, till weariness 
 wrapt him in a sound sleep, which was only disturbed 
 by a rap upon his door announcing that the tea-table 
 was ready.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 91 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 . THE sun was still far above the western horizon, 
 when Butler, having finished his supper and a short 
 chat with his mother, stood upon the door-step, sur- 
 veying with interested curiosity the scenes of his boy- 
 ish experiences. A flood of glowing light still poured 
 over the western sky, gilding with an intense brilliancy 
 the craggy summits of the rough hills that lay in the 
 background ; and an amber sheen carpeted the tops 
 of the dark forest that stretched over the long, broken 
 swells of upland, which formed the more immediate 
 boundaries of the little valley. The light vapors that 
 lay about the junction of earth and sky were already 
 burning into one of those magnificent sunsets, whose 
 superb and gorgeous hues clothe the departure of the 
 day, in the clear evenings of our pure summer atmos- 
 phere. The burnished glory of the sky was deeply yet 
 softly contrasted by the obscurity, that began to gather 
 about the spots no longer reached by the sun's rays. 
 Deep patches of olive thickened under the borders of 
 the tall and dark woods; and the easterly slopes of hill 
 and dale put on soft tints of duskiness over the vivid 
 green of their daylight hues. Long shadows were pvo- 
 jected from the scattered pines and birch thickets which 
 the axe had spared along the shores of the river, one 
 side of which flowed cool and dark beneath the shaded 
 bank, while the other reflected the sunlight still, from 
 its sparkling surface. The eastern side of the little
 
 92 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 valley lay basking in the horizontal beams of sunset ; 
 while each dark brown log-house or framed cottage 
 showed its glowing front, more clearly defined even 
 than in the diffusive splendor of noon ; and behind 
 each and behind every bush and stump and ragged 
 fence, massive shadows crept further and further up the 
 slopes. Thus, the whole river course and basin was 
 variegated by the deepest and most striking contrasts, 
 of light and shade ; while the highlands that bordered 
 it shone like a gilded frame in the unobstructed rays, 
 and the far-off mountains lay in the distance wrapt in 
 a softened shroud of purple and golden mist. 
 
 Butler gazed a few moments in silent admiration at 
 the rare beauty of the scene, till his mind became ab- 
 sorbed in a revery, in which past, present, and future 
 were dreamily and vaguely mingled. He thought of 
 the times when he and Mary Wilmot fished for trout, 
 or paddled a skiff upon the river, or wandered off into 
 the woods, or picked berries about the fields to- 
 gether ; then of the charms and seductions of the com- 
 mercial town, the elegant and well-dressed women, 
 the grave and stately merchants, till city belles, ships 
 and ledgers, woods, waters and mountains, India voy- 
 ages and counting-rooms, farms, forests, deer, fish, 
 rifles, and fishing-rods, were all jumbled together in his 
 speculations. 
 
 But he was presently recalled from these engrossing 
 reflections, by occasional shouts of laughter, loud talk- 
 ing, and other tokens of social companionship, coming 
 from a spot not far down the road, which to his ear 
 were familiar and well-understood sounds of a summer 
 evening. Taking then a final look at the picturesque 
 scene, from the dark belt of forest that curtained the 
 crests of the uplands and the purple mountain tops afar
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 93 
 
 off, to the valley bottom where the level rays struggled 
 confusedly in among the deepening shadows of bank, 
 bush, and tree, every salient point gilt with glory, every 
 depression and reverse cradled in a soft and tender 
 gloom, he turned half unwillingly down the road to ex- 
 change greetings with his old neighbors. 
 
 The social wants of our nature require conventional 
 gathering-places, where the life-currents of the com- 
 munity may commingle, and whither each individ- 
 ual may repair from the wearisome monotony of his 
 own daily round, to return again to his special sphere, 
 refreshed and invigorated ; as every drop of blood 
 is constantly concentrated in the heart to be relieved 
 in the lungs of its accumulated impurities, and sent 
 forth again, disburdened and rejuvenated, to carry new 
 health and vigor to the extremities of the system. 
 The church, the theatre, and the mercantile exchange 
 answer each their peculiar purposes ; but there is an 
 humbler but more general need yet which they do not 
 supply. Outside of the pillared temples of Mammon 
 in great cities, where the Rothschilds and Astors buy 
 and sell the world, kings, emperors, and nationalities 
 included, there will be the " Loafers' Exchange," estab- 
 lished upon the shaded sidewalk in summer and in the 
 cosy sunny corner in winter, where the undiscriminated 
 multitude congregate to barter, not only merchandise, 
 but ideas and sympathies. The village inn, or village 
 green in Old England, and the business centres of. each 
 of our more bustling and active rural towns, furnish 
 a like gathering-place ; where politics, trade, gossip and 
 amusement supply occasions of relaxation, profit, and 
 advancement to every humor. Here the demagogue 
 goes, to show his political wisdom and to lay, in obscure 
 foundations, his future influence. The money-getter
 
 94 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 comes here to catch a chance for a speculation ; the 
 bully and the wit to show off their braggadocio and 
 their jokes ; and the idler to gossip and chat and laugh 
 at all that comes up in the multifarious assemblage. 
 
 The inhabitants of Merrifield were accustomed to 
 congregate, in the pleasant weather, upon either or both 
 ends of the little bridge that joined with its friendly 
 bond the two sides of the river. On these occasions, 
 the railings displayed a row of red-shirted mill and 
 lumber-men, sitting, like a string of fowls upon their 
 roost, smoking their pipes and whittling in careless 
 relaxation after the day's work. The magnates of the 
 hamlet, the two lawyers, the doctor, and the traders, 
 whose shops were chiefly in the immediate vicinity, 
 did not generally compromise their dignity by such a 
 gallinaceous attitude, but stood or walked to and fro, 
 about the front of the line ; while a small crowd of 
 boys and stragglers fringed the outskirts of the assem- 
 blage with little knots busied with their own amuse- 
 ments, but ever ready to catch up any joke or crowd 
 in to listen to any discussion, that turned up among the 
 more staid portion of the throng. 
 
 On the night of Butler's arrival the gathering em- 
 braced almost every man and boy in the village ; for 
 the news of his coming had been speedily diffused, and 
 beside the intrinsic importance of a visitor fresh from 
 the metropolis, all were eager to greet the bright, free- 
 hearted boy, still well remembered and affectionately 
 regarded by all his old neighbors. It seemed too, that 
 the women, especially the younger ones, had an un- 
 usual need of articles from the shops that evening ; 
 so that, on one pretext or another or on none at all, 
 the whole village was astir. Butler's approach was 
 soon observed and announced by the boys who were
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 95 
 frolicking about the road, and the information caused 
 
 O * 
 
 an immediate stir in the conclave. The mill-men got 
 down from their perch, stopped their whittling and put 
 their knives into their pockets. Squire Preston pulled 
 up his shirt-collar and set his hat straighter upon his 
 head, and followed by the doctor, the traders, and all 
 who felt their position entitled them to prominence, 
 sauntered towards the corner to meet the object of 
 their general interest. Unconscious of his extraordi- 
 nary importance and unaffectedly pleased to meet his 
 old acquaintances, James exchanged greetings with 
 the dignitaries; and this more quiet process over, 
 found himself surrounded by a swarm of rough, hardy 
 men, who shook his hands with a rude energy, that 
 but for the limited number of the claimants for notice, 
 might have been somewhat exhausting. It happened 
 too, rather oddly, that quite a number of rosy-faced 
 damsels chanced to be coming out of the shop-doors 
 just at this moment, not to mention several of the staid 
 matrons of the village ; and as they were all by acci- 
 dent arrayed in their gayest and choicest attire, the 
 whole formed quite an imposing scene, such as the 
 rustic little hamlet seldom saw. But the more deli- 
 cate and ornamental features o.f it were lost upon the 
 unconscious Butler. For, buried in the eager crowd 
 
 * O 
 
 of his male friends, the innocent witcheries of the 
 young girls and the benign smiles of welcome that 
 wreathed the older female faces were lost to him, and 
 the innumerable questions that poured on him, effect- 
 ually barred all opportunity for softer and sweeter 
 greetings ; so that, after lingering around in vain for 
 some minutes, they took reluctant flight, to await a 
 more quiet occasion. Upon the edge of the throng too, 
 stood another unobtruding figure, but of the rougher
 
 96 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 sex. With his quick gray eye suffused with emotion, 
 and his whole frame quivering with suppressed feeling, 
 his look was fixed on Butler, as if he longed, yet dared 
 not to rush up to him and express the pleasure which 
 evidently absorbed his every idea. It was the poor 
 vagabond Shirk, but vagabond no longer ; for he was 
 now neatly though simply dressed like his neighbors. 
 The grotesque garb and incongruous air of the depend- 
 ent upon the odds and ends of charity had given place to 
 the consistent and independent mien of the man, who 
 has his own place and is able to keep it. His features 
 had no longer the unsettled and wandering look or the 
 painful recklessness of his days of destitution ; but in- 
 telligent, calm, and bright, bespoke a character consid- 
 erably above the average of the uneducated children 
 of labor, and capacity of large and genial development. 
 So, it was not a sense of shabbiness that prevented Sam 
 from coming forward with others to shake hands with 
 Butler. Nor was it, by any means, that he could 
 plead no claim of acquaintanceship. For, even then, he 
 was busily thinking of the days so long ago, yet seem- 
 ingly so near, when he repaid the constant kindness of 
 the generous-hearted boy who so often relieved his 
 bitter wants, with such toys as his ingenuity could 
 supply for boyish sports ; and when his own desultory 
 and aimless hours were so frequently employed, in 
 Butler's company, in the thousand enterprises and ac- 
 tive amusements which boys love. For Sam, notwith- 
 standing his humble position, had always been admitted 
 to the sports of his young neighbors ; indeed his ready 
 wit, activity, and promptitude made him almost indis- 
 pensable on all important occasions, and his good tem- 
 per rendered him a general favorite. Butler's natural 
 sagacity, especially, had led him to discern Shirk's good
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 97 
 
 qualities under all his mean exterior, and his manly 
 and generous feelings recognized and appreciated them 
 as readily as if poor Sam's fortunes had been on a par 
 with the best of his comrades. In truth, there were 
 strong sympathies between them. Nobody knew so 
 well as either James or Sam where to find a trout, a 
 partridge, or a deer, or better loved to catch them. 
 Sam had an unbounded admiration for Butler, and 
 James did full justice on all occasions to Sam, un- 
 checked by any worldly disparity between them. In 
 remote parts of the country, there is little deference 
 paid especially by boys to arbitrary rules of social 
 etiquette. 
 
 But Sam Shirk, though ragged and miserably poor, 
 was no vulgar boy. He had inherited from his mother 
 the delicate organization which had made destitution 
 a crushing and fatal burden to her ; and while he 
 bravely bore up under his own early apprenticeship 
 to misery, he never lost his instinctive reverence for 
 excellence. If, in the pitiless chaos of his utter help- 
 lessness, he had not always walked with unerring steps 
 over the quaking bog, the moment he felt the firm 
 ground beneath his feet, he stood erect and steady 
 again in natural integrity. 
 
 When he saw Butler stand before him with the easy 
 and self-possessed air of educated refinement, which 
 he could intuitively appreciate, little as he was famil- 
 iar with it, his unexceptionable dress and manner, 
 his manly bearing, and handsome, animated face, his 
 old comrade appeared to him something almost more 
 than human. He remembered too, that Butler was 
 probably the ultimate arbiter in the matter of the de- 
 faced deed of the little farm, which was the sole mate- 
 rial basis of his pecuniary welfare and his now deeply 
 7
 
 98 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 cherished social independence. This reflection brought 
 also with it a mortifying remembrance of his own ri- 
 diculous position in relation to the affair, so momentous 
 to him. Altogether' he felt it impossible to summon 
 resolution to accost James. An instinctive sense of 
 honorable delicacy withheld him from making a claim, 
 which might seem, and which indeed he really felt to 
 be presumptuous, of renewing with the man, so far 
 above him in position and outward advantages, the ac- 
 quaintance of careless boyhood. Under the influence 
 of all these feelings poor Sam hung round the edges of 
 the little crowd, unwilling to go away, yet unwilling to 
 advance, longing, yet fearing to be recognized. With 
 moist eyes and lips firmly compressed, as if to shut up 
 within himself his contending emotions, he furtively 
 followed every movement and hung upon every word 
 of the absorbing object of his interest, whom alone he 
 saw and heard. 
 
 But it was not long before Butler's sharp eye caught 
 his retreating figure. At first he could hardly believe 
 that the decently clad, intelligent-looking young man 
 before him was his old forlorn, well-remembered play- 
 mate. But a second glance assured him of the fact, 
 and gave him also a partial comprehension of the feelings 
 that agitated Shirk's working and expressive features, 
 when he caught Butler's fixed gaze. Hastily pushing 
 his way to his side, James extended his hand, which 
 was seized with an eager grasp that conveyed in its 
 nervous pressure all the depth of the still subdued 
 emotion. 
 
 " Why, Sam ; you the last to shake hands with 
 me!" 
 
 The poor fellow cast a single earnest look into James' 
 face, as if he longed to speak ; then biting his quivering
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 99 
 
 lips, dropped his eyes to the ground, without uttering 
 a word. James laid his hand kindly upon his shoulder, 
 and said in a low tone, so as to be heard by him alone, 
 " I hardly knew you, Sam. I am right glad to 
 see you, and looking so well too. I have not for- 
 gotten the old times, Sam. Come to the house, after 
 breakfast to-morrow. Don't forget, I will stay till 
 you come." 
 
 Butler then turned away, delicately desirous of not 
 drawing the general attention to his agitated compan- 
 ion, who, murmuring a broken " God bless you," 
 rushed away behind a neighboring pile of lumber, and 
 sinking down with his face between his hands, let loose 
 his pent-up excitement in a flood of proud and happy 
 tears, tears with which were mingled thoughts of his 
 poor, pale, emaciated, lost mother, and his young, 
 bright-eyed, recovered friend.
 
 100 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE next morning James broached the subject of 
 Shirk's affairs to his mother at the breakfast-table. 
 
 " Mother, I saw Sam Shirk last night. He is all 
 right ; and you will give him another deed of the little 
 farm, I suppose." 
 
 " But have you seen Deacon Hardy about it, my 
 son?" 
 
 " No, mother, and why should I ? The land is your 
 own to give, and nobody has any interest in it, beside 
 you, but myself; and I am satisfied. The Deacon's 
 objections are all fudge." 
 
 " But, James," said the old lady, fidgeting a little 
 in her chair, " I don't like to do it, hardly, without the 
 Deacon's knowing it." 
 
 " Mother, it's none of the Deacon's business ; and I 
 don't mean he shall make it so. To speak plainly, 
 mother, I don't altogether like the Deacon's way of 
 thinking and talking. This grim, square-cornered 
 doctrine of his don't suit me. There's something else 
 in this world than his stiff notions and sour creed ; 
 and something a good deal better too. And, the long 
 and short of it is, if you don't give Sam a new deed, 
 I shall give him a piece of my own land instead, if 
 you won't be angry with me, mother." 
 
 " I, angry with you, James ! No, indeed. If you
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 101 
 
 feel quite sure it an't wrong, I'll sign a new deed for 
 Sam right away." 
 
 " On the contrary, mother, I am sure it would be 
 very wrong not to do it. The disappointment would 
 probably discourage Sam forever. And, take my word 
 for it, he will make a good use of your kindness. Your 
 own kind heart, dear mother, is a better guide than all 
 the deacons in the world." 
 
 " O, no, James, don't say so, I'm a sinful creature, 
 like everybody else." 
 
 " No you an't, mother. There's sin enough in the 
 world, no doubt. But if a man should call you sinful, 
 I should just knock him down for his pains." 
 
 " O, my boy, what are you talking about ? Now, 
 that's the real old Adam ; what good would it do to 
 knock anybody down for calling me sinful ? " 
 
 " I think it might do him a great deal of good, 
 mother ; and I know it would me. And as for the 
 old Adams and the young Adams too, God made 'em 
 all : and He has done it a great deal better than Dea- 
 con Hardy would. But, I'm afraid you'll begin to 
 think me wicked, mother." 
 
 " / think you wicked, James ; O, what should I 
 do, if I did think so ? " 
 
 " Sure enough, mother, and I hope never to give 
 you reason to think me very bad ; although I have 
 plenty of room to improve, and with God's help mean 
 to do so. But what of the old Adam and Deacon 
 Hardy's doctrines now, mother ? " 
 
 " O dear ! James, don't argue. I can't ; it puzzles 
 me to death. Don't say any more, but get the deed 
 made and I'll sign it." 
 
 " Very good, dear mother. You'll find it will all turn 
 out right. And one thing more. A farm is of no use
 
 102 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 without some stock. Now I think it will be well to 
 give Sam old Brindle into the bargain. We have got 
 three or four heifers coming in next spring, and shall 
 never miss her. I want to do something for him too ; 
 and that shall be my present. What should I have 
 done if Shirk had not prevented the old mare's break- 
 ing your neck ? " 
 
 Soon after this arrangement was concluded, Shirk 
 came in. Although he shook Butler's extended hand 
 with a grateful confidence very different from the 
 nervous timidity of their last interview, yet a shade of 
 anxiety was visible on his countenance, until dispelled 
 by Butler's smiling face and welcome communication 
 that everything was satisfactorily adjusted. 
 
 " Now Sam," said James, " we shall expect you to 
 be a little more careful in future. You have some lee- 
 way to make up, as the old salts in Boston say ; and 
 you must do your best for awhile to be up to your im- 
 proved position. By and by you will not need to 
 thank anybody but yourself for all you want." 
 
 A bright glow of happy resolve flashed over Shirk's 
 face ; but was succeeded in a moment by a look of 
 quiet gratitude, as he replied, 
 
 " If ever I am anything, it will be all along of you 
 and your mother. 'Twill be a bitter day to me, if I 
 should live to see you repent 'ont. Only, Mr. James, 
 I hope you will help me with your advice for awhile ; 
 and not let me make a fool of myself again." 
 
 " I will help you in every way I can, Sam. Don't 
 hesitate to come to me if you are troubled about any- 
 thing. And now I want to do a little for you too, for 
 the sake of old times ; and I will give you a cow to 
 start with, and then you will get along famously, Sam. 
 You can manage as well as the best of us, when you 
 set about it in earnest, I am sure."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 103 
 
 Shirk's mobile features had already shown strong 
 symptoms of emotion ; but now he was completely 
 overpowered. He sank into a chair beside him and 
 coverino- his face with his hands, sobbed like a child. 
 
 o ' 
 
 The good dame had been sitting at her knitting, re- 
 volving in her mind the problem of her son's earnest 
 disagreement with the views of Deacon Hardy ; and 
 still somewhat concerned least some latent heresy 
 might be involved in his indignant repudiation of the 
 Deacon's arrogance in its garb of pretentious humility. 
 She could not distrust her manly, free-hearted boy ; 
 yet she did not dare to differ from the Deacon. Her 
 perplexed meditations were interrupted by Sam's sobs ; 
 for, having gladly thrown the weight of active respon- 
 sibility upon her son, she had been paying no attention 
 whatever to his proceedings, absorbed as she was in her 
 helpless bewilderment. She started at the interruption, 
 dropped her knitting-work into her lap and her specta- 
 cles from her nose. Then she took a long, wondering 
 look at Sam, and ejaculating, " O my ! did you ever ! " 
 burst into tears herself. 
 
 After this propitious termination of his troubles, 
 Shirk made up his mind irrevocably to better things. 
 He called to his aid the ingenuity his vagabond life had 
 compelled him to cultivate, to compensate, in some 
 measure, for the lack of industry it had induced. By 
 making contrivance, in some degree, a substitute for 
 hard work, he hoped to effect his purposes without ut- 
 terly intolerable drafts upon his patience. His most 
 important step in this direction was a negotiation with 
 a landless new-comer, a thrifty Scot with an industri- 
 ous family, whom he took into partnership upon terms 
 advantageous to both. In virtue of this compact, the 
 produce of the farm was to be divided between them,
 
 104 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 while in consideration of Sara's ownership and contri- 
 bution of active capital, to wit, the pig and cow, Leon- 
 ard McKim undertook the chief part of the agricul- 
 tural labor, leaving to Sam mainly the fencing and 
 other mechanical improvements, with the head-work 
 in general. By this judicious arrangement, Shirk suc- 
 ceeded in materially relieving his back, without impair- 
 ing the comfort of the opposite part of his body. A good, 
 active, tall girl of his copartner's also began to find 
 favor in his eyes ; and it was soon settled that the al- 
 liance should be cemented, and Sam's stockings and 
 coats mended by the fair hand of Miss Jenny. Under 
 this judicious arrangement, prosperity and comfort 
 soon crowned the united exertions of the family. 
 
 For some time after his return, Butler was chiefly 
 occupied by the care of the family property and the 
 erection of a new house more comfortable and conge- 
 
 O 
 
 nial to his tastes. He also devoted much time to read- 
 ing, and superintending Sam Shirk's advancement, and 
 renewing his old associations. He had made a visit to 
 Mr. Wilmot's family, among other old friends, where 
 he was received with the usual cordiality. But when 
 the conversation was turned upon Mary, Mrs. Wilmot 
 entertained him to such an extent with the accomplish- 
 ments of her young theological cousin, with whom the 
 young lady was, according to her letters, so agreeably 
 employed in an extensive course of reading and study, 
 that he was induced to cut short his call, and felt little 
 inclination to repeat it. Although her mother made no 
 special allusion to the nature of their intimacy, and 
 perhaps thought of nothing, herself, but of her maternal 
 satisfaction in the acquirements of her daughter, his 
 preconceived ideas led him irresistibly to conclude, that 
 their intercourse had undoubtedly other charms for
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 105 
 
 both parties than the interest belonging to their mutual 
 studies. He naturally grew convinced that literature 
 and science were not the only nor the most powerful 
 bond of union-, between them. " Her cousin cannot 
 but love her," thought he, " and he has every chance 
 of winnine; her affections. There is little doubt how 
 
 o 
 
 it will turn out, if he is good for anything ; and per- 
 haps he deserves her better than I do. At any rate, 
 if she prefers him, what right have I to complain." So 
 pride and despair both seemed to lead him to the con- 
 clusion, that the wisest part for him was to resign his 
 hopes in that quarter, or at least to prepare as well as 
 he could for disappointment. The practical efficacy ot 
 which philosophical conjunction we can most of us 
 estimate at its true value.
 
 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FOR a long period, the weather had continued of 
 that bright and equable serenity which almost makes 
 us believe that the causes of elemental strife are at 
 rest forever ; and that its quiet beauty and steady tem- 
 perature will never be interrupted again, it seems so 
 perfectly balanced and unexceptionable. 
 
 But, one morning, the sun rose bright as ever, only 
 to veil the golden sheaves of the horizontal beams that, 
 for a few moments, flooded the waking earth with glory, 
 behind a long, low, leaden cloud, which seemed to 
 have drawn itself across the gates of the dawning day, 
 purposely to bar its sunshine. At first narrow and 
 apparently insignificant, it grew broader and broader, 
 and unrolled itself into long, gray folds, like a curtain 
 drawn in drooping segments loosely over the sky, till 
 it covered the whole heavens, and shut out at last the 
 ruddy reflections that lingered along the western verge 
 of the horizon. Then curling mists began to gather 
 round the tops of the inland hills, cutting them asunder 
 in the middle, and shutting out soon the whole upper 
 region of the air with an impenetrable and gloomy veil. 
 A subtile and vague chilliness stole over the fresh, 
 clear atmosphere, and presently low sullen gusts began 
 to creep in from the ocean, piling up the salt vapors 
 before them, though almost imperceptibly at first. The 
 chill breathings from the sea, sobbing louder and heav- 
 ier over the land, soon swelled into strong and fitful
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 107 
 
 blasts, driving in their van a dense fog, that gradually 
 flattened itself out, between earth and sky, mto a gray 
 atmosphere of mist which wrapped every object in its 
 dripping and cheerless embrace, till all light and form 
 were gradually extinguished almost as effectually as 
 by the shades of night.' 
 
 By the time the early-rising population of Merri field 
 had dispatched their morning meal, the superincum- 
 bent vapors began to drop earthward, at first in soft 
 and trickling dews, then in large, s'traggling drops ; 
 till finally falling in unbroken sheets of rain, they 
 turned the lower stratum of the fog at once into a 
 pouring avalanche of water. The southeast wind 
 rushed in from seaward with constantly increasing fury, 
 bringing fresh supplies of moisture from the boundless 
 reservoirs of the deep, which it dashed in torrents over 
 the streaming earth. The gutters and casual hollows 
 swelled to brooks and ponds ; and the brooks began to 
 roar along their channels, as they disgorged the sud- 
 den flood in tumultuous streams into the river, which 
 soon exchanged its clear, bright flow for a turbid and 
 boisterous current, as the muddy contributions of its 
 tributaries overpowered the purer supplies of its pe- 
 rennial fountains. The resources of the villagers for 
 the occupation of a day that prohibited out-door em- 
 ployment were not great. Newspapers were unknown, 
 and the current literature of the time, scanty and lim- 
 ited eveywhere, seldom found its way into such remote 
 corners. Reading was not a habit of the period ; for, 
 indeed, there was little to excite or sustain any propen- 
 sity to it. The flood of books, adapted to all tastes and 
 capacities, that now issue daily from the press, was 
 not then dreamed of. A single meagre and dingy 
 sheet, published in the metropolis, was the sole repre-
 
 108 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 sentative of the diurnal tide of news that now over- 
 spreads the country through countless channels. 
 When out-door avocations were suspended, the males 
 were accustomed to assemble in the shops, as the only 
 available points of general intercourse, to while away 
 the time as they best might. 
 
 Although Deacon Hardy was far from popular, yet 
 his place of business, as being the largest and best 
 stocked for the supply of general wants, was a favor- 
 ite spot. Moreover the Deacon's concern in the lum- 
 bering business was large ; and his premises conse- 
 quently afforded facilities for employment to the labor- 
 ing class, with the important and agreeable concomi- 
 tant of sure wages, for Hardy, though exacting and 
 penurious, was a regular and good paymaster. 
 
 Consequently, when it became evident that a steady 
 rain had set in, a miscellaneous assemblage gathered 
 at an early hour and settled down quietly into perma- 
 nent conclave. Some perched on the counters, some 
 sat on the heads of the flour barrels, bags of coffee, or 
 tobacco boxes ; while a fortunate few occupied a pine 
 bench and three or four dilapidated chairs, whose well- 
 whittled and battered outlines gave sure proof of long 
 service. A light fire was kindled in the stove, to dis- 
 pel the damp ; and pipes were lighted, and jack-knives 
 set in operation upon shingles, laths, and strips of pine, 
 to relieve the tedium of the vacant hours. 
 
 The whittlers soon covered the floor with a litter 
 that might have been supposed distressing to a person 
 of Hardy's exactitude and neatness ; and it probably 
 would have been so, but that it was one of the estab- 
 lished institutions of society in Merrifield, so universally 
 recognized, that it would not enter into the most cen- 
 sorious brain to quarrel with it. Therefore the shop-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 109 
 
 keeper took the annoyance, if such he felt it, as he did 
 the mud brought in upon their feet, as inevitable and 
 matter of course. 
 
 Sam Shirk was among the Deacon's visitors, on this 
 occasion, as he very often was, notwithstanding the 
 continual sparrings that marked their mutual antipa- 
 thies. For these bouts were the source of mischiev- 
 ous enjoyment more than anything else, to Sam's reck- 
 less and boisterous good-humor ; while his antagonist, 
 though always getting the worst of the encounter, 
 could never, even in discomfiture, bear to forego so 
 good a text as Sam and his delinquencies afforded for 
 the moral disquisitions which he so much delighted in. 
 They were like a pair of ill-trained oxen, such as we 
 often see hauling away from each other as far as the 
 yoke will let them, till they incline like boats borne 
 down by a heavy side-wind. The awkward aversion, 
 though it wastes the strength and impairs the comfort 
 of both, grows into a habit so inveterate that neither 
 knows how to maintain his equilibrium, without the 
 mutual burden of his cross-grained comrade dragging 
 at his throat. 
 
 Sam sat there among the rest. But after smoking 
 several pipes and manufacturing up his shingle into 
 dogs' heads, ducks, and fishes, he got up and went to 
 the door, and looked out through its glazed upper half 
 upon the storm. The rain dashed against the little 
 panes of glass by pails-full, with a concussion, as it 
 flew upon the blast, as if a heavy wet cloth had been 
 thrashed against the sashes. The streets were covered 
 with sheets of water, and the gutters were running in 
 furious clay-colored torrents. 
 
 " I rather guess, if the rain holds on long like this, 
 it'll be good drivin' on the river to-morrow," ob- 
 served Sam.
 
 110 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " I was thinking of that," replied the Deacon, from 
 behind his counter, " and I think 'twill be a good 
 plan to get in that lot of logs that was hung up on 
 Little Falls this spring. The mills are all pretty much 
 out." 
 
 " There wont be nothin' to hender, Deacon. It's a 
 master-rain, as ever I see." 
 
 " If the river rises enough, I should like to have 
 you take charge of my crew, Shirk." 
 
 " Very well, I can as well's not. I'll be along 
 bright and early in the mornin' ; and we'll see how 
 'tis." 
 
 It may be thought queer that Shirk should be the 
 first man engaged by Hardy for this expedition, con- 
 sidering the contempt in which the Deacon held his in- 
 dustrial accomplishments in general. But the trader, 
 as usual, knew very, well what he was about. Log- 
 driving is a special matter, as it is one of the highest 
 importance. It is to the lumberman what the tour- 
 nament or the melee in battle was to the chivalry of 
 the Middle Ages, the test of courage, strength, and 
 skill. Requiring the greatest intrepidity and the se- 
 verest exertion, it has also in it a degree of risk, that 
 gives it the peculiar zest which danger and difficulty 
 have for adventurous spirits. A good river- driver 
 stands among his fellows as a gallant champion in the 
 lists, or a brave warrior in the battle-field did among 
 the feudal nobility. Such tame and dull labors as the 
 hoeing of corn and potatoes were distasteful to Sam ; 
 but not because he was inert, but simply averse to 
 plodding industry. These every-day matters did not 
 awaken his energies. He had a settled contempt for 
 hoes and shovels, but give him a rifle, a fishing-rod, or 
 a handspike, and he was sure to be first among the
 
 .1 TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. Ill 
 
 foremost. His acknowledged excellence too, in such 
 matters, called forth his personal pride, of which he 
 had plenty, when the right stimulus was applied. Sam 
 bragged that he was " hard to beat " in any athletic 
 and exciting business or amusement, and he had a 
 right to do so. 
 
 On this occasion the wishes of the mill-owners were 
 amply fulfilled. The rain continued to pour down all 
 day and through the night; and by morning a heavy 
 freshet was running in the river. Instead of the usual 
 
 O 
 
 shoal, clear current, fretting and toying over the stones 
 and other inequalities of its bed, the stream poured 
 down its channel in deep and. sullen strength ; and its 
 glassy and compressed waters rushed through the piers 
 of the rude bridge in mighty swirls, that shook the 
 rough fabric like a reed in the wind. A fleet of chips, 
 sla-bs, and stray logs, immersed in a perfect porridge of 
 sawdust and mud, covered its whole surface, as the 
 rising flood cleaned out all the nooks and corners of 
 the shores of their rubbish, and ploughed up the torpid 
 drift of stagnant pools and eddies before the rage of 
 the accumulated waters. 
 
 Gangs of men were already employed about the 
 mills, in securing the logs in their booms, and reliev- 
 ing the pressure upon the reeling dams, by opening 
 the flood-gates to let off the deluge. The rain was 
 still falling fitfully in showers.; but the breaks in the 
 clouds, and the still and brightening atmosphere, 
 showed that the storm was over. Little groups were 
 gathered round the shop-doors of all the business men. 
 The log-drivers were bustling about, supplying them- 
 selves with provisions and the tools of their craft, the 
 stout handspikes of tough, hard wood, and the long 
 slender spruce poles, each armed at the lower end
 
 112 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with sharp steel spikes, and strengthened with iron 
 clasps, like the battle-axes and spears of former times. 
 Their picturesque costume pointed out at once, to the 
 practiced eye, the men bound for " the drive." They 
 stood about, resting on the heavy handspikes, or with 
 shouldered pike-poles, a little army, awaiting the sig- 
 nal for the march. Bright red flannel .shirts, the in- 
 variable uniform of lumbermen, gave to their dress a 
 picturesque semi-military appearance. Each carried, 
 thrown loosely over his shoulders, or across his arm, a 
 warm, heavy overcoat, to be worn only at night, or in 
 seasons of rest and inactivity ; for, when engaged in 
 work, an outer garment would be an unnecessary in- 
 cumbrance to the free use of their stalwart limbs, that 
 asked on common occasions no such effeminate pro- 
 tection. Stout boots, whose heavy soles were studded 
 with iron cramps to give them a safe hold upon the 
 slimy and slippery surface of the logs, completed their 
 equipment, except that every man wore strapped upon 
 his back a small stock of provisions, and a blanket or 
 old quilt for the nightly bivouac upon the ground. 
 
 Sam headed Deacon Hardy's crew, and impatiently 
 hurried up one or two loiterers, with an occasional em- 
 phatic phrase, that would have drawn upon him a se- 
 vere rebuke on ordinary occasions. But the Deacon 
 was in a hurry too, to equip and start his men, and 
 charitably withheld his censures; forgiving the ex- 
 uberance of Shirk's zeal in consideration of his motive, 
 and perhaps somewhat mollified by the reflection, that 
 if the foreman of his gang swore a little, it was done 
 for his own interest and at somebody else's expense. 
 The stimulated activity of the men was his gain, while 
 the responsibility of the means rested on Sam. Be- 
 sides, the advantage was palpable and direct, and the 
 harm somewhat theoretic and remote.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOVDS OF MAINE. 113 
 
 Just as they were moving off, Butler came up suit- 
 ably attired, with a light handspike on his shoulder, 
 and joined them. 
 
 " What, Mr. James, you an't goin' onto the river, 
 be you ? " asked Shirk. 
 
 " Yes, I am, though, Sam ; we have some logs in 
 the drive ; and although I can't do much among you 
 water-rats, I mean to go up, if it's only to see the fun. 
 It will be a rarity to me you know." 
 
 " Well, we are ready, and shall be glad of your 
 company, all of us. I'll guarantee." 
 
 So saying Sam strode off, Butler taking a place by 
 his side, while some " drivers," whom he had brought 
 with him, fell into the rear with Sam's squad. They 
 walked rapidly on over the rough street that ran up 
 the eastern shore of the river ; then, leaving its valley, 
 climbed a steep hill which led them to the table-lands 
 above, in order to avoid a deep bend of the stream 
 which here trended to the westward far out of their 
 course. After crossing a belt of woods and skirting 
 for a mile or two an extensive tract of moorland, they 
 reached the point of action. 
 
 They then stood upon the bank of the river again, 
 where it made a slight curve in its course through the 
 barren plains, which swept away for miles on every 
 side, except to the south, where they were fringed by 
 the forest through which the log-drivers had just 
 crossed. But, for a vast distance east, west, and north 
 lay a monotonous sweep of table-land, sometimes an 
 almost perfect level for miles, but broken, here and 
 there, by sudden ravines through which little tributary 
 streams found their way to the river. Its light and 
 sterile soil was insufficient to sustain a growth of forest- 
 trees, but copses of birch bushes, with an occasional 
 8
 
 114 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 clump of hackmatacks, were scattered over its reaches, 
 clothed on their immediate surface with a tangle of 
 huckleberry bushes, hardhacks, and other low shrubs, 
 with patches of feathery ferns and hassocks of luxuri- 
 ant but coarse bent grass. Here and there a gray 
 boulder, covered with lichen and weather-stained, rose 
 angular, stark, and conspicuous ; while, far away on 
 every border, the girdling woods stretched over the 
 distant valleys and over the rolling hills. To the 
 southwest, Tunk Mountain, craggy and bleak, sur- 
 rounded by its group of subordinate peaks, broke the 
 sky line with a huge chaos of precipices and towering 
 rocks, scowling down upon the dark mantle of forest 
 that shadowed their huge flanks. The blue twin tops 
 of Humpback, and the long ridge of Pleasant Mountain, 
 loomed on the horizon to the north and east, and dim, 
 hazy summits far away in the interior filled up every 
 vista of the vast field of forest. The stream, as, in 
 times long gone by, it worked out its channel through 
 the flat plains, had here encountered a ledge of slaty 
 rock ; over whose shelving surface it made its way in 
 a hurried and impetuous course, though nowhere 
 broken by perpendicular falls, forming, for the space 
 of a hundred rods or more, what in the phrase of the 
 country are called rips or ripples. Along the slope of 
 this rocky bed boulders of various size were scattered 
 irregularly, sometimes single, but oftener in clusters, 
 either the disintegrated remnants of the original sur- 
 face of the ledge, or washed out from the soil above 
 and stopped in their downward path by the inequal- 
 ities of the rocky platform. The freshet of the spring 
 had lodged against these obstacles some logs, which in 
 their turn aided to arrest the progress of the rest, until 
 a complete dam had been formed across the entire
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 115 
 
 channel. The pressure of the flood, thus checked and 
 thrown back, served only to pin the imprisoned timber 
 more securely to its rough anchorage ; while log upon 
 log, brought down upon the constantly rising tide of 
 the accumulated waters, was furiously launched upon 
 the top and rear of the growing barrier. An immense 
 mass of the drifting timber had thus been piled up by 
 the deluge, until the river-bed was filled for half a mile 
 or more with innumerable logs, interlaced and tangled 
 together at every possible angle of inclination, left by 
 the falling flood at a height varying from ten to twenty 
 feet, like a heap of gigantic jack-straws scattered by 
 the hand of a Titan. Some lengthwise, some athwart, 
 pushed up almost perpendicularly into the air, or hor- 
 izontal, the huge sticks formed a solid rampart of wild 
 perplexity, that seemed to defy every effort at disen- 
 tanglement and extrication. 
 
 A hardy crew were already scrambling in all direc- 
 tions over this bristling chevaux-de-frise, balancing 
 their heavy handspikes like rope-dancers, as they 
 sprang from point to point, and examined carefully the 
 position and arrangement of the timber, if such terms 
 may be applied to such a mass of interminable confu- 
 sion. They moved as easily over the snarled surface 
 as revelers upon the floor of a ball-room ; while the 
 river, now again swollen to a flood, chafed and strug- 
 gled in foaming eddies to force its clogged passage 
 through the barricade. The undertaking of " break- 
 ing the jam '' would have seemed hopeless enough to 
 uninitiated eyes, but was a familiar matter with them ; 
 and unusual difficulty and danger, such as were prom- 
 ised in the present case, stimulated rather than daunted 
 their trained daring. The leaders of the crews con- 
 tributed by the various log-owners, collecting together
 
 116 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 upon the front, carefully explored the bearings of the 
 prominent logs upon the rocks and upon each other, 
 to ascertain where they might best hope to make a 
 breach, and give vent for the passage of the superin- 
 cumbent mass behind. To find the Gordian knot that 
 tied the whole together was the first thing to be done. 
 After considerable deliberation, the red-shirted 
 Garibaldis of the woods settled upon the probable key 
 of the position and made their arrangements. Butler, 
 with a crew of lighter hands, superintended the clear- 
 ing away of the flanks and front, of everything that 
 might check progress anew ; while a crew of expe- 
 rienced veterans commenced working out a tunnel 
 through the bristling forehead of the jam. Lighten- 
 ing for a space the superincumbent pressure, by pry- 
 ing and rolling off into the stream below such of the 
 upper logs as could be moved, they cautiously dug 
 their way down, till the lower strata of timber began to 
 show themselves among the frothing swirls of the fierce 
 currents, that, having fought their devious way thus 
 far, boiled out in furious freedom at the lower verge. 
 It now became necessary to proceed with the extrem- 
 est prudence, as the liberation of a single stick mio-ht 
 
 i o o 
 
 free the whole tremendous mass to rush down unre- 
 strained, before the incalculably powerful pressure of 
 the flood, which, dammed up upon its rear, was tossing 
 with dreadful force through all its throbbing and heav- 
 ing interstices. Sam Shirk and the other foremen 
 therefore called off their crews to lunch and rest 
 awhile from their severe labors. While the mass of 
 the men lounged and refreshed themselves upon the 
 shores, the more experienced leaders, with a cracker 
 in their hand or pipe in mouth, once more carefully 
 surveyed the indications by which further movements 
 should be determined.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 117 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AT the expiration of a quarter of an hour, the river- 
 drivers assembled again around their leaders. Shirk 
 
 O 
 
 and Butler had employed the interval in a walk up 
 the stream ; and Sam made his report, as follows : 
 
 " The water's gettin' down from up above and risin' 
 fast ; and the logs begin to squirm and kick lively at 
 t'other end. The jam an't so deep there, but they're 
 pilin' down fast from up stream. Jest hear 'em ! J> 
 As he spoke, the heavy thud of the drifting logs, as 
 they dashed upon the upper end of the jam, was 
 plainly audible at short intervals. " We must do 
 quick what is done. The water, I expect, will be 
 a-gainin' all day. But 'twan't a long rain, tho' 'twas 
 a terrible smart one ; and the freshet'll run away to- 
 night pretty much, 'cordin' to my idees. If we can't 
 start 'em this arternoon, it'll be all day with us." 
 
 Shirk's conclusions met with a general concurrence ; 
 and it was decided that no time must be lost to break 
 through the front of the jam, if possible. 
 
 " 'Twon't do no harm to be a little careful nuther," 
 observed a muscular, wiry, gray-haired man who stood 
 by, leaning on his heavy handspike. " There's a tre- 
 menduous head o' water gittin' up, as Shirk says ; 
 these rocks -an't very large, and altho' they hold the 
 logs hard enough now, when they do start they'll 
 start, I tell ye, boys. You'd better be ready to stan* 
 round smart when they go."
 
 118 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 This caution also met the general approval ; and 
 measures were taken accordingly. A large crew was 
 set to work again to lighten the front and top of the 
 jam of every log that could be moved ; while half a 
 dozen chosen and resolute men resumed the hazardous 
 operation of picking out the tangled mass at the point 
 where a lane had already been partially opened up in- 
 to the ragged wall ; a channel of considerable width 
 between two of the largest rocks, and nearly in the 
 centre of the stream, affording here the best chance of 
 working out a free passage. Though the rain had 
 ceased some hours since, the tributaries of the river 
 among the hills above were still disgorging into it their 
 swollen contributions ; and the freshet was about at its 
 greatest height. 
 
 The surface of the jam trembled and quivered all 
 over, like the frame of a man in strong convulsions, 
 with the struggles of the imprisoned waters. A sub- 
 dued, grating roar pervaded the air, from the restless 
 chafing and tossing of countless logs moaning and grind- 
 ing in the fierce grip of the flood, to whose tremendous 
 pressure they could not yet yield. The waters, that, 
 after raging tumultuously along the labyrinthine mass 
 of timber, found their way through at last, poured out 
 at every opening in front in jets of furious foam, or 
 compressed into black and glassy torrents, with a 
 wild impetuosity and force. 
 
 Amid this bewildering and fearful uproar, the res- 
 olute crew still worked coolly on, though their only 
 footing was on slippery logs over which the spray 
 washed continually, while the beetling ends of the 
 timber above their heads trembled constantly, and 
 threatened momentarily to sweep down upon them in 
 a terrible avalanche. By prying, pushing, and lifting,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 119 
 
 they disentangled many of the projecting sticks ; but 
 the grim rampart still kept its place, though appar- 
 ently ready to totter down, at any moment, upon their 
 heads. The old Nestor of the gang paused, and, 
 sticking the point of his handspike into the log in front 
 of him, anxiously looked about him as he wiped his 
 sweating forehead. 
 
 " This won't do, boys," said he. " Our handspikes 
 won't reach far eno' ; and yet it's as much as our lives 
 is wuth to work here any longer. We must try to 
 haul out some o' those chaps in there with the rope. 
 Here, Bob, throw us the end o' the hawser." 
 
 The man thus addressed made up in his hand a few 
 coils of a stout rope that lay upon the bank near him, 
 and tossed it to the speaker within the chasm. It was 
 speedily made fast round a prominent stick, which was 
 soon dragged out with main force, by the united 
 efforts of the crew upon the bank. The operation was 
 repeated with several more, and still the mass was 
 unmoved. But, the bottom of the stream being nearly 
 reached for a considerable space, it had become easier 
 to fix accurately upon the precise points of resistance. 
 
 Deacon Hardy and some others of the log-owners 
 had just arrived from the village to inquii'e into their 
 progress ; and another council was called for consulta- 
 tion. 
 
 " Now, Deacon, look here," said Sam Shirk, appeal- 
 ing to his employer. " We might work on this way 
 from July to Etarnity, and not get ahead a switch, no 
 more'n ef we sot out to lug the logs on our shoulders 
 over old Tunk Mountain out there. Now Sam Laigh- 
 ton here, and perhaps more on 'em, knows better than 
 I ; but I think I see what wants to be done. You 
 see that 'ere stick, Deacon, that lays right across the
 
 120 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 middle channel, with each eend pinched hard agin 
 them two rocks; we can't clear it, for the whole cur- 
 rent's runnin' agin it like destruction ; and there's six 
 
 O 
 
 or seven more logs lodged on it, and a'most as many 
 hunderd on the furder eends o' them. Now, I say, 
 that log's got to be cut in two." 
 
 " Well, Laighton, what do you say ? " inquired the 
 Deacon, after hearing Sam's opinion. 
 
 " I think jest the same," replied the veteran. 
 
 " Well, then, we must have it cut," added Hardy. 
 
 " Yes, Deacon," continued Shirk, " it's got to be cut, 
 if we want to start this jam, leastwise on this freshet. 
 Afore we can git it out any other way, this run o' wa- 
 ter'll be all down. But 'tan't none o' yer easy jobs. 
 The water breaks clean over it, and a feller'd need to 
 take himself out o' the way spry when he hits it the 
 last clip." 
 
 " That's true, Sam. Well, I'll give a silver dollar 
 to the man that'll chop it in two." 
 
 The Deacon's offer elicited no immediate reply. 
 The men all knew the peril of the undertaking, and 
 stood a moment, eying in silence the dangerous neces- 
 sity. Laighton stuck his handspike up in the ground 
 and went back to the spot, carefully reconnoitring the 
 position of the logs, the rest awaiting his conclusion. 
 After a minute or two, he rejoined them. 
 
 " There an't nothing else to be done, and I s'pose 
 if any man can do it, I can. But 'tan't your silver 
 dollar, Deacon. 'Tan't wuth two cents time to cut 
 that 'ere stick in two on dry land, and 'tan't so much 
 odds nuther that it's under water. A feller'll git his 
 face washed enough, a-choppin', to last him a month, 
 to be sure. But, when a man's got to resk his life, a 
 dollar an't o' no account, nor, for the matter o' that,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 121 
 
 a thousand. But I've driv on this river ever sence 
 the fust loo- floated down it, and I an't never seed the 
 
 o 
 
 thing yet that wanted to be done, that I daresn't do. 
 That log's got to be cut, and I'll cut it." 
 
 So saying, the stout fellow signed to a comrade to 
 bring him an axe that lay hard by. He passed his 
 finger over the edge, and, poising it in his strong arms, 
 struck it through a birch sapling at his side. 
 
 " I don't justly like the hang o' that axe. Let's see 
 that other one." After examining the edge of this also 
 and dashing down with it another small birch out of 
 the clump, he threw it- over his shoulder and marched 
 steadily down upon the logs. There, selecting care- 
 fully his position, he coolly but rapidly chopped it half- 
 way through upon its upper side, while the water 
 dashed all over him under the heavy blows of the axe, 
 and the broad chips flew up into the air and floated 
 away on the boiling eddies below. Then, turning his 
 face down stream, he proceeded to cut through the 
 forward portion. As blow after blow fell splashing 
 through the foam, and slice upon slice widened the gap 
 in the remaining wood, the silent spectators on the 
 banks held their breaths in anxious expectation, and 
 clutched their handspikes convulsively in their strong 
 hands, that trembled with repressed excitement. Pres- 
 ently a sharp crack told that the nearly severed log 
 had yielded to the vast pressure upon it ; and its dis- 
 united parts bulged slowly outwards. Laighton threw 
 his axe upon his shoulder, and, springing from log to 
 log and rock to rock, cleared the mouth of the gap in 
 which he had been working and sped to the shore. 
 Hard upon his heels, half a dozen sticks shot like 
 arrows through the aperture he had made, borne upon 
 an impetuous gush of water that filled the channel
 
 122 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with its dark, concentrated current, flecked with foam. 
 The low, grinding murmur of the writhing timber 
 behind deepened into a roar, that filled the air with 
 that rush and swell of sound that accompanies all 
 resistless impetus ; the whole surface of the jam trem- 
 bled and vibrated with a mighty convulsion ; and, as 
 the logs, tossing and pitching, settled themselves to 
 their equilibrium, when the victorious waters sucked 
 them down once more into their bosom, the centre 
 gradually dropped and fell to a level ; and once more, 
 water-borne and free, they darted forth in one concen- 
 trated and tremendous rush down the narrow sluice- 
 way. Farther and farther up the stream swelled 
 the tumultuous uproar. Like a herd of wild horses, 
 tossing their heads as they break into their mad 
 stampede of flight and terror, the whole host of ramp- 
 ing monsters burst in fury down the channel ; while, 
 above the crash and thunder of the logs and the wild 
 roar of the waters, rose a loud and glad hurra, the old 
 Anglo-Saxon battle-cheer of struggle and of victory. 
 Again and again it rang out above the rush of the lib- 
 erated flood, as it poured down, under, over, and among 
 the sweltering and pitching timber. But the third 
 shout was broken by an anxious exclamation of 
 " Where's Laighton ? " and his name, loudly and hur- 
 riedly repeated, replaced the exultant peal of triumph 
 with the trembling voice of apprehension. But no 
 answer came to the call of terrible doubt. In the dead 
 silence that fell on the inmost souls as well as upon the 
 tongues of all, nothing was to be heard but the boom- 
 ing and grinding of logs and the wild gurgle of the 
 river. The men looked into each other's faces, for an 
 instant, in blank dismay ; then all hurried to various 
 commanding points upon the banks.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 123 
 The missing man had last been seen clear of the 
 
 O 
 
 chasm in the jam, and making his way rapidly to the 
 shore, where a little clump of bushes concealed, for a 
 time, his further progress from his comrades. But his 
 well-known skill and activity, together with the fact 
 that he had passed the point where danger was chiefly 
 to be looked for, in safety, had removed all anxiety on 
 his account. In the excitement of the moment, all 
 eyes had been diverted from him to the spectacle that 
 challenged everybody's attention. His absence was 
 the less likely to be observed, as none who knew his 
 quiet and unpretending courage, expected to see him 
 press himself conspicuously upon the admiring atten- 
 tion of the spectators of his daring exploit. 
 
 The crowd were now rushing about with that vague 
 and purposeless activity that blindly strives to meet an 
 unexpected calamity ; and conjectures and suggestions, 
 hopes and fears, passed from mouth to mouth. But a 
 few did not pause to tattle. Shirk seized a long pike- 
 pole, and, balancing it in his hands, sprang unhesitat- 
 ingly upon a log, as it rushed by him to join the huge, 
 tossing, crowding fleet into which the timber was draw- 
 ing itself out below them. His example was followed 
 by half a dozen of the boldest and most active. As the 
 unstable support to which he intrusted his footing shot 
 down the boiling tide, he shouted back to them, " He 
 was too far in shore to be carried into the main cur- 
 rent : he'll be swept into the eddy in the bend yonder." 
 
 It was a perilous and difficult navigation upon the 
 slippery, slimy log, pitching, rolling, and swashing, as 
 it rushed down the foaming current, now jostling upon 
 its neighbors, now roughly struck first on one side, then 
 to another, in the scrambling, pell-mell race. But Sam 
 and his companions were as much at home upon the
 
 124 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 treacherous and restless surface they were traversing, 
 as other men upon the paved sidewalks of cities, and 
 piloted their rude barks skillfully through all obsta- 
 cles, adding to their already frantic speed by pushing 
 along to their utmost strength, with their long pike- 
 poles. As they flew through the foam, they scruti- 
 nized narrowly the raging river-bed for signs of the 
 lost one. Sam's activity and wiry muscle more than 
 kept the start he had had in the outset. Forcing along 
 the stick on which he rode with might and main, when 
 it became tangled in the crowded mass, he sprang from 
 it to another and another, light as a deer, and, alter- 
 nately sailing and running over his tossing and rocking 
 pathway, soon readied the little cove where the eddy 
 concentrated, and detained a compact mass of timber 
 floating quietly beyond the influence of the current. 
 
 " Now look sharp, if you have any eyes, 5 ' said he 
 to his comrades who had followed hard after him ; 
 " scatter yourselves, and look as a hungry wolf does for 
 a deer. Ten minutes to a stunded man, under these 
 logs, is life and death." 
 
 But exhortation was little needed. Hither and 
 thither, in every direction, the raft was swiftly trav- 
 ersed ; and a dozen more, who, shrinking from the 
 dangerous but more direct path, had run down by the 
 shore, now poured in over every quarter of the embayed 
 timber ; and eager eyes peered down into the water in 
 every part. But so far in vain. Nothing was to be 
 seen but the wet logs, glistening in the bright, cheerful 
 sunshine above, quiet and peaceful as if no terrible mys- 
 tery of death and sorrow could lie hidden under their 
 surface, and the still, turbid depths of the glassy waters 
 covering all below with a veil dark and impenetrable 
 almost as eternity. External Nature moved as ever,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 125 
 
 calmly on undisturbed alike in the broad smile of her 
 genial beauty and the unresponsive gloom of her deep 
 secrets over the scene of the brief struggles of hu- 
 man agony. Worried and disappointed, Shirk stopped 
 for a moment, to throw an eager and anxious glance 
 around him. His quick and excited perception was 
 instantly arrested by a little half-submerged thicket of 
 alder-bushes growing upon an advanced point, now cut 
 off from the adjacent banks by the spread of the swol- 
 len waters inundating the natural shore, and standing, 
 like a little island, far out into the flood. 
 
 " Look into that 'ere clump of alders, Bill Small," 
 he hallooed to a man who was near the spot ; " 'twould 
 be likely to pick up anythin' that drifted down on the 
 fust rush." 
 
 The man obeyed the suggestion, and an eager ex- 
 clamation brought Sam bounding to his side, just as, 
 raising a dripping cap into the air, he proclaimed by a 
 shout his discovery of this trace of the object of their 
 search. " Clear away the logs, quicker'n lightnin'," 
 shouted Sam to the crowd that gathered speedily about 
 them. " Clear away the logs, and look over every foot 
 o' ground. But mind and don't rile up the water." A 
 clear space was soon made by the stalwart arms strung 
 to their utmost energy by hope and fear ; and a dark 
 object, prostrate beneath the muddy water, illuminated 
 to a dull, greenish yellow by the bright sunshine thus 
 let in upon it, revealed to the almost despairing search- 
 ers the helpless form of their comrade. Three or four 
 lumbermen, springing into the stream up to their 
 waists, raised the passive body from its dreary bed, 
 and, bearing it gently to the nearest shore, laid it ap- 
 parently lifeless upon the bank. Hither hurried 
 Hardy, Butler, and others, who had followed their 
 movements with watchful solicitude.
 
 126 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 Sam Shirk let the broad shoulders and drooping head 
 softly down upon the sloping green turf, and, after one 
 mournful gaze upon the pale face, turned beseechingly 
 to Butler. " Now, James, you and the Deacon are 
 better doctors than I be. Save his life somehow, for 
 God's sake ! If those confounded logs han't bruised 
 him to death, he can be brought to, for he han't been 
 in the water above ten minutes. Do somethin' to fetch 
 him to ; he's got a wife and children, and he's as good 
 a feller and as good a driver as is on 'Guagus River." 
 
 He then threw himself on the ground, overcome by 
 the intense exertions he had been making and the deep 
 grief of his kindly heart. Tears rolled down over 
 many rough, bronzed cheeks, as the anxious circle 
 watched the result of the attempts to restore animation 
 to that limp and motionless frame, so lately among the 
 most powerful and energetic of them all. The wet 
 garments were replaced by contributions from the by- 
 standers ; and a soft warm bed was made with thick 
 jackets. Examination showed no fractures of the limbs 
 or very serious bruises ; but all signs of vitality were 
 suspended by that terrible submersion. To their great 
 joy, chafing by strong and tender hands, with other 
 expedients commonly used in such cases, brought to the 
 wan lips, at last, a faint flutter of breath. A slight 
 flush replaced the deathlike pallor of the features, and 
 finally a little brandy poured down his throat set the 
 subtile machinery of life feebly into play once more. 
 Intelligent light shone, though faintly, from eyes no 
 longer fixed in the dull stare of death, but unequal yet 
 to the task of recognition. As the bodily powers lazily 
 recommenced their functions, his mind took- up again 
 the thread of consciousness, so rudely interrupted and 
 so nearly severed.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 127 
 
 " My axe, I've dropt my axe," he weakly moaned. 
 But the lids dropped ; and struggling nature kindly 
 drew the veil back again over his faculties, unable yet 
 to master the crisis completely. 
 
 "Give him a little more brandy, James, and then 
 we'll let him lie quietly here in the sun. He'll be on 
 his legs again presently. God be praised ! " said 
 Hardy. 
 
 The lumbermen now returned with lightened hearts 
 to their work, leaving the patient in charge of Butler 
 and the Deacon. Headed by Shirk, they proceeded 
 to roll and shove off the logs which stuck too closely to 
 the shore to be carried off by the current, and sent 
 them, one by one, to follow their mates down the 
 stream. 
 
 A messenger had been sent to the village to procure 
 a light sled drawn by a yoke of oxen, for no wheel-car- 
 riage could reach the spot. In about two hours this 
 simple vehicle made its appearance, with a straw-bed, 
 and a feather-bed above, spread over its bars, making 
 a very comfortable means of conveyance. 
 
 Laighton had by this time quite recovered his con- 
 sciousness, and was able to walk, though somewhat 
 sore and feeble from the shock his system had under- 
 gone. Placing him carefully upon the sledge, they 
 started for home, Butler taking charge of the docile 
 
 O ~ 
 
 team, while Hardy walked by the patient's side. 
 
 The bland west wind blew freshly ; and the clear 
 sunshine drew fragrance out of the young leaves and 
 the green grass. Every breath of the pure air, Na- 
 ture's great medicine, aided in the restoration of a 
 healthy tone to the mind and body of poor Laighton, 
 who was soon able to converse freely with his friends. 
 
 " Well, Deacon," said he cheerfully, " I 'arnt your
 
 128 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 silver dollar a little harder than I calculated, though I 
 know'd 'twas a ticklish job. But Providence has 
 spared me awhile, in its marcy. I don't know what 
 would a' become o' Polly and the children." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself about that, Laighton," re- 
 plied James. " We'll take care of all that. You just 
 get well again as fast as you can, and don't worry. All 
 shall be made right for you, and without your getting 
 much in our debt either." 
 
 " Yes," added Hardy, whose heart, though dulled 
 by selfishness and formality, was right at bottom, and 
 responded cheerfully when hard knocks like this were 
 made upon its guarded door, " yes, don't fret about 
 anything, one dollar or twenty. 'Twill be all the 
 same. But, if it don't tire you to talk, do tell us how 
 all this happened." 
 
 " Thank you kindly, Deacon. I don't mistrust you'll 
 do the Christian thing by me ; and I hope in a few 
 days I'll be as smart as ever again. But as to this 'ere, 
 I hardly know much about it myself. It's all a mis- 
 maze, like a consarned ugly dream." 
 
 " No wonder," interposed Butler. " A man don't 
 often come out of such a chance to tell of it." 
 
 " You may say that ; I thought I was gone for it. 
 Well, you see, I'd got pretty much clear o' the jam, 
 and consaited I was as good as safe ashore. But I 
 stept onto a log that was jest startin' down stream ; 
 and afore I could run the length on't, another one came 
 down on't and hit it in the middle, and knocked it clear 
 out o' water. Seemed as if 'twould a driv it into the 
 middle o' next week. I an't slow on logs, but it took 
 everything straight out from under me ; and was sech a 
 thunderin' slap, it a kind o' stunded me. I jumped for 
 the next log ; but that had got a movin' too, and I fell
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 129 
 
 into the stream. Afore I could pick myself up, a 
 whole heap of 'em rushed right down over me. I tried 
 to get my head up, but the logs was all over me, and I 
 couldn't do it. They kep me under and carried me 
 down with 'em. For a minit, I see first a streak o' 
 light and then a streak of dark then everything was 
 all mixed up, and then I didn't know no more till I 
 woke up on the bank there." 
 
 " Thank Heaven, it's no worse," said Butler. 
 
 " Yes, thank Heaven and the rest on ye." 
 
 " Amen ! " said Hardy. 
 9
 
 130 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT had been one of those tropical days which the 
 northern midsummer sometimes though rarely brings, 
 and all the more oppressive from its rarity, when 
 the sun's rays seem in some mysterious manner to 
 double their intensity all at once, and become well- 
 nigh unendurable, such as rustics significantly call " a 
 yaller day." The very leaves on the trees, and espe- 
 cially the more delicate plants of the garden, drooped 
 and wilted under the fierce heat. It boiled the pitch 
 out of the pine boards, and the yellow clay soil flashed 
 it back into the face of travellers, so as almost to scorch 
 and blind them at once. Animals of all sorts came to 
 a unanimous conclusion to drop the day out of the 
 calendar, and cut its acquaintance, as far as possible. 
 The dogs crept into holes and cellars, or lay panting 
 in cool coBners, their tongues lolling out of their 
 mouths dripping with perspiration. The cows plunged 
 into the thick swamps, or rushed into the water, and 
 there stood in patient endurance. Even the poultry, 
 notwithstanding its East Indian descent and its non- 
 conducting mail of plumage, retreated into the inmost 
 recesses of hen-coops and barns, and, if any eggs were 
 laid that day, it was done in the quietest manner pos- 
 sible ; for not a cackle broke the torrid hush of the 
 noontide, nor, indeed, did any other living sound. 
 Physical energy was too valuable, just then, to be
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 131 
 
 wasted in noise. All human beings suspended their 
 daily tasks, in sheer exhaustion, and strewed them- 
 selves about indiscriminately in the coolest or rather 
 the least hot places, in the vain attempt to get some 
 relief out of the baffling, weakling western breeze, 
 which was just enough to tantalize with a vain hope of 
 comfort. The very air seemed parched and dead, con- 
 verted into a spiritless and effete ghost of air. 
 
 The river alone kept along as usual, and rippled and 
 sang in perfect content, shimmering back in scorn the 
 rays, which revenged themselves, nevertheless, by boil- 
 ing up all the little tomcods imprisoned in the shallow 
 pools. 
 
 Sunset and the dewy damp of evening came, at last, 
 to the relief of the panting world ; and the village 
 poured itself spontaneously out of doors, rejoiced to 
 escape the monotonous discomfort of the tedious day. 
 The night was still warm enough to impart an unusual 
 languor to the scene. The boys, instead of keeping 
 up, as commonly, an incessant skirmishing and uproar 
 about the rough street, followed the more quiet exam- 
 ple of their elders, and ranged themselves upon the 
 piles of lumber, where, in default of more active occu- 
 pation, they whistled, shouted, and laughed. The 
 more public-spirited dogs waited upon their masters to 
 the usual place of the evening gathering ; but, instead 
 of chasing the neighboring cats, or rushing in among 
 the boys, on occasion of some especially animated 
 escapade, or getting up little debates among them- 
 selves, laid about panting and looking philosophically 
 abstracted from all earthly considerations. The 
 women and girls were gossiping, in quiet clusters, 
 round the doors of the houses ; and the men, though 
 assembled, according to custom, at the corners of the
 
 132 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 bridge, discussed such matters as came up with less 
 than their ordinary animation, and with none of the 
 episodes of practical joke and rough outbreaks that 
 often diversified the village councils. 
 
 The long summer twilight had nearly drawn to its 
 close, and many had risen to seek their homes for the 
 night, when an adventurous puppy, whose juvenile 
 restlessness had broken through the general indolence 
 and led him off on some private errand, set up a vocif- 
 erous barking a little distance down the road. The 
 alarm was repeated from the throats of a dozen recum- 
 bent sympathizers, scattered round about their masters ; 
 and the attention of the crowd, both biped and quad- 
 ruped, thus concentrated upon the spot, soon discov- 
 ered the object of the outcry in a wagon slowly 
 approaching behind a horse seemingly exhausted by 
 toil and heat. Not even the near neighborhood of 
 food and rest, of which his instinct must have apprised 
 him, seemed to inspire with freshness the weary pace 
 at which the over-done animal dragged one foot after 
 the other. Even this slow progress, however, soon 
 brought the vehicle sufficiently near to enable the curi- 
 ous crowd to distinguish the persons of its occupants. 
 
 The driver was apparently a slender and somewhat 
 tall young man of the age, perhaps, of twenty-two or 
 three years, with well-formed features and a mild and 
 pleasant expression. The only defect of his face was, 
 that it wore that vague, unpractical air of simplicity 
 which so often marks familiarity with books rather 
 than with men. This indication was confirmed by 
 the black dress and "white cravat, which almost conclu- 
 sively proclaimed him a clergyman. He was unknown 
 to the villagers ; and his appearance elicited little 
 comment. But Rob Campbell jogged the elbow of
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 133 
 
 one of his comrades and said in a low tone, " A decent- 
 looking chap, Tonft, for a minister ; but I don't believe 
 he knows a rifle from a bean-pole, and anybody can 
 see he don't know how to put a horse over the road. 
 That's Mary Wilmot with him, sure. It must be the 
 young minister they say she's going to marry. I don't 
 think she need have gone to the Kennebec to get a 
 smarter husband than that." 
 
 " I'm afraid you're jealous, Rob ! " 
 
 " Not a bit of it. Mary's a nice girl, and as hand- 
 some as ever, and the man that gets her shouldn't 
 complain of his luck. But I have no complaint to 
 make, take whom she may." 
 
 James Butler, after spending the hot day at home 
 with his books and papers, had sauntered out some time 
 before, to enjoy the freshness of the evening with his 
 neighbors, and had been leaning against a pile of shin- 
 gles, while he joined in the chit-chat. All around 
 him left their places, and advanced into the road, to 
 see who the travellers might be. But James, less 
 stimulated by rustic curiosity, retained his position 
 with metropolitan indifference to an event that so 
 much interested the quiet little community in generaL 
 He overheard the conversation of the two youngsters, 
 who happened to stand near him ; and the mention of 
 Mary Wilmot's name only gave him a new motive for 
 remaining in the background. His thoughts and feel- 
 ings were plunged at once into a whirl of confusion 
 by her unexpected coming. Uncertain and anxious as 
 he felt as to the position they were to sustain to each 
 other in the future, he shrank with instinctive reluc- 
 tance from subjecting to the public gaze his first meet- 
 ing with her, from which so much was to be hoped 
 and feared. He therefore withdrew himself behind
 
 184 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 his opportune shelter, so that he stood in no danger of 
 being recognized in the faint twilight, and scanned 
 with eager curiosity, from his safe hiding-place, both of 
 the travellers. As the light wagon, the only vehicle 
 that could be used with comfort or safety upon the 
 rough and dangerous roads of that wild region, made 
 its way slowly through the crowd that had gathered 
 round the path, the graceful and well-developed form 
 and bright and amiable face of the young lady were 
 exposed plainly to his interested scrutiny, while she 
 exchanged her greetings with the friends and acquaint- 
 ances that pressed around to welcome her. The 
 maiden's appearance justified even the fond picture 
 that Butler had so long carried treasured up in his 
 memory. The pretty and warm-hearted girl had 
 indeed grown into a beautiful and lovely woman. In 
 the turmoil of excitement occasioned by the sudden 
 appearance of the living beauty that had been for 
 years the absorbing fancy of his heart, James could 
 do nothing but stare, as if in a dream. Had he been 
 less bewildered by the surprise, he might have noticed 
 that Mary's eyes wandered abstractedly, as if in search 
 of something expected but not found, while she 
 replied to the salutations that met her on all sides. 
 But he did not; and it was not until the wearied 
 horse broke into a trot, over the smooth planking of 
 the bridge, that rapidly removed the carriage from his 
 front, that he even thought to look at the person 
 whom he supposed to be his rival. One sharp glance 
 at that important personage in the drama, as he was 
 compelled, however reluctantly, to consider him, 
 brought him very much to the conclusion expressed 
 by Robert Campbell. For, while the air of educated 
 intelligence and the gentlemanly exterior left but slen-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 135 
 
 der excuse to quarrel with the young lady's taste, he 
 could not, himself, regard him as the sort of compet- 
 itor in whose success he could very contentedly acqui- 
 esce. It was not easy for him to draw any satisfac- 
 tion from the examination, consider it which way he 
 would. 
 
 A portion of the loiterers followed the travellers 
 across to the door of the little tavern on the other side 
 of the bridge ; some, desirous of more leisurely com- 
 munication with their young townswoman, and oth- 
 ers, simply seeking to make the most of this variation 
 of the usual uneventfulness of Merrifield life. The 
 rest turned toward their homes, to carry the news 
 to their wives and children. Butler was left alone, 
 with the exception of Sam Shirk, who, in his enthu- 
 siastic affection for his young patron, followed him 
 like his shadow wherever decorum permitted him. 
 
 "An't you going over to welcome Mary Wilmot 
 home, Mr. James ? You and she used to be as thick 
 together as mischief, in old times." 
 
 " Yes, no, Sam ; not to-night, I think. It's late, 
 and she must be very tired after such a day's ride. 
 But why do you call me Mr. James, Sam ? We are 
 not ceremonious with each other, here in the woods. 
 Why not say James, as in the old times you spoke 
 of?" 
 
 " Indeed, I should like to. It seems pleasant to call 
 folks we like best by their own names. But it some- 
 how don't seem as if I had a right. When we was 
 both boys, it was different. You are the best man in 
 'Guagus now, and I an't nobody." 
 
 " O yes, you are somebody, Sam, and I wish you to 
 think so, and that other people should too. Now, if 
 you speak to the best man in 'Guagus as if you were
 
 136 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 afraid of him," added Butler, laughing, " I am afraid 
 the worst ones may take it into their foolish heads to 
 think you are nobody. And that's just the reason I 
 would wish you to speak to me as freely as others do." 
 
 " O, thank you, thank you," replied Sam in a voice 
 tremulous with emotion. " That's just like you. And 
 sure enough, if you let me call you James, they 
 needn't, none of 'em, undertake to be uppish with me, 
 and I shouldn't mind if they did ; and I'd give any- 
 thing to know you'd like to have me." 
 
 " I should like to have you do so, Sam, for my own 
 part, and for the reason I have given you. So do it, in 
 future, if you please. There is but one thing you need 
 be troubled about, Sam, and that is no fault of yours ; 
 but it will be your fault, if you don't try to remedy it. 
 You have not had much chance to learn ; and to put 
 yourself right, you should learn to read, write, and 
 cipher well, at least. Don't you think so ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I've often thought on't ; and I've 
 tried it some. But I've had a poor chance, as you 
 say." 
 
 " Well, come to me, Sam, and I'll try to put you in 
 the way. You wouldn't like to go to school with the 
 boys ; but I think I should make a tolerable .master, 
 and I've plenty of time to teach you in. Come on 
 rainy days, and on any afternoons that you can spare. 
 I spend those times in my own room, in studying, 
 myself." 
 
 " You study ! " cried Sam, in amaze ; " why, I 
 thought you'd larnt everything ! " 
 
 " O no, Sam, not yet. There are several little 
 matters I intend to look up, as I find time. "Why, Sam, 
 if you were to study a hundred years, you would prob- 
 ably find more things you desired to learn, at the end 
 of it, than when you began."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 137 
 
 " Then," replied Sam, laughing, " I hardly see the 
 use of beginning." 
 
 " O yes, don't be frightened : less, a good deal, will 
 do for you and me. You can stop before you get to 
 your hundredth year, if you choose. But we'll try to 
 manage the reading and writing, at any rate, and 
 now, good-night." 
 
 " Good-night, sir." 
 
 Sam then went back to his own log-house, which, 
 humble as it was, was of far more real value to him 
 than many a magnificent mansion and broad domain is 
 to its owner; and Butler returned slowly and thought- 
 fully home. He paused a moment at the gate ; and 
 observing, as he looked around, that most of the village 
 lights were extinguished, and the remaining ones 
 were rapidly disappearing, he felt that relief which we 
 have all experienced when events take out of our 
 hands the necessity of deciding a troublesome question. 
 As he went towards the door, he said to himself, 
 " One point has settled itself, at any rate. It's entirely 
 too late to see her to-night, according to Merrifield 
 ideas." 
 
 His mother was sitting up for him, knitting-work in 
 hand, but frequent yawns and the intermittent click- 
 ing of the needles plainly told that she was getting 
 drowsy. James kissed her as usual, and took up his 
 candle to go up-stairs, but, before he bid good-night, 
 said with a tone of imperial indifference, " Mother, 
 Mary "Wilmot came home just now." 
 
 " You don't say so, James I I declare ! where did 
 she come from, and how did she come ? " 
 
 " She came from somewhere between here and Ken- 
 nebec, I presume, mother. And, as to the how, it was 
 in a light wagon, driven by a young gentleman with a
 
 138 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 black coat, white neckerchief, ditto hair, and blue 
 eyes," replied James, curtly. 
 
 " O I " said the unsuspicious and unobservant dame, 
 " that must have been her cousin, that she's engaged to 
 marry. Why didn't she stop with us ? " 
 
 " I don't know, mother. I had no chance to speak 
 to her." 
 
 " Indeed ! " rejoined the dame, struck with a momen- 
 tary wonder as to what might have been the obstacles 
 in the way. But she was too sleepy to follow up the 
 inquiry, and only added, " Well, she'll come over to 
 see us in the morning, no doubt." 
 
 So they parted for the night ; and James, repeating 
 to himself, as he went up-stairs, " She'll come over to 
 see us in the morning, no doubt," blew out his candle 
 after lighting a cigar, and drawing a chair to his cham- 
 ber window, put his feet up on the sill, and gave him- 
 self up to thought, for he felt no inclination either to 
 read or sleep. 
 
 It was a sluggish and listless evening still. The 
 stars shone dreamily through the thin veil of vapor 
 which the earth had been perspiring from every pore 
 all day into the air. The yellowish track of the road 
 lay, like a faint-hued ribbon, up and down the bank 
 of the stream. Here and there, a detached tree or 
 cottage showed a hazy outline against some marked back- 
 ground ; but the little valley lay like an inscrutable 
 phantom under the drowsy shadows, faintly suggesting 
 an invisible landscape. On the summits of the hills 
 that hemmed it around, the undulating tree-tops met 
 the sky-line, in shadow rendered deeper by the contact 
 of the .partially illuminated heavens. All else was 
 sombre vacancy, except the faint reflection from the 
 river under the twinkle of the stars. There was noth-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 139 
 
 ing to be heard, but at intervals, the barking of a dog 
 or the low tinkle of a cow-bell, save the distant plunge 
 of the water over the mill-dams and the murmur of the 
 stream below, giving out a monotone so undefined and 
 continuous as scarcely to seem a sound, and attracting 
 the permanent attention of the ear hardly more than 
 the soft sighings of the light evening breeze. 
 
 The deep, calm quiet soon soothed the tumultuous 
 heart of Butler ; and when he had finished his cigar, 
 he had reached, through a tangle of thoughts which 
 we shall not attempt to describe, certain conclusions, 
 neither very profound nor satisfactory, but seemingly 
 all that were then attainable. 
 
 First, he settled, to his own mind, that Mary Wil- 
 mot was worthy of any man's admiration and love. 
 
 Secondly, that all appearances indicated that she 
 was betrothed to her cousin. 
 
 Thirdly, that all he could do was to wait and see 
 what time would disclose. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mary herself was sitting at a window 
 not forty rods across the river, but, for any practical 
 purpose, as far as if the Atlantic rolled between them. 
 She was not engaged to the rival who was causing 
 Butler so much uneasiness ; nor had she ever dreamed 
 of being so. On the contrary, no small portion of the 
 pleasure she had felt in returning home, arose from the 
 knowledge, derived from the letters of her friends, that 
 James was in Merrifield once more ; and she felt, 
 though she hardly dared confess it to her own heart, 
 that her recollection of her childhood's playfellow still 
 remained the brightest and dearest of her fancies. 
 Disappointed in not recognizing his face among those 
 of her other acquaintances in the street, though it had 
 been present to her imagination throughout the weari-
 
 140 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 some journey, she sat for some time in the little par- 
 lor of the inn, in a fluttered expectation of his coming, 
 which was rendered more confident by the information, 
 soon obtained from her other visitors, that he was in the 
 immediate neighborhood. 
 
 When her expectation had gradually faded into 
 hopelessness, she withdrew to her chamber with a 
 weary feeling of perplexity and mortification, made 
 more painful by the vividly renewed recollection of the 
 happy anticipations she had tacitly indulged through 
 the tedious day's ride. Overcome, at once, by the 
 fatigue heretofore postponed by the excitement of her 
 return, and the sickening revulsion of her hopes, she 
 threw herself at the bedside and burst into a torrent 
 of bitter tears. But, as her wounded feelings recov- 
 ered from the first shock, she wiped the tears away, 
 and sat calmly down to combat the first serious grief 
 that had stained her young life. 
 
 " How foolish and wrong I have been," she sought 
 to reason with herself, " to think that he must care for 
 me still, because he loved me when we were children 
 together ! He is grown into a man, and is probably 
 absorbed with ideas far beyond the sphere of this little 
 place. He has spent four years in the company of 
 women far more accomplished, no doubt, all of them, 
 and some probably more attractive in every way, than 
 I can pretend to be ; and why should I expect that he 
 would have remembered me, because I have been un- 
 wisely cherishing his image in my humble seclusion? 
 Perhaps he is not only entirely indifferent to me, but 
 has purposely delayed meeting me, as the most delicate 
 way of showing me that I have no claim on his special 
 regard. Or, if not intentional, it is proof enough that 
 he has no particular thought of me. And I cannot
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 141 
 
 complain. I had no right to expect anything else ; 
 but I could not help it, the thought would come. In- 
 deed, it has never left me since he kissed me, when he 
 said good-by. It is plain at least what I have to do ; 
 and that is to forget my folly forever." 
 
 After a few moments of sad retrospection upon the 
 sunny days of childhood, in every hour of which her 
 bright and manly playmate was the central image, 
 she dismissed the once delightful but now painful sub- 
 ject with an effort, said her nightly prayer, and sought 
 to rest her weary body and spirit in slumber. 
 
 The first dawn of day awoke the troubled girl, and 
 recalled, with consciousness, the galling sting of humil- 
 iation and sorrow. She could not bear to expose her 
 deep dejection to the eyes of the village, and especially 
 of Butler and his mother. Therefore she called her 
 cousin, and begged him to drive her to her home, some 
 ten miles up the river, instead of leaving her at Merri- 
 field, as had been proposed, until her father could come 
 for her. She accounted for the change of plan by 
 pleading exhaustion from yesterday's exposure, and her 
 desire to accomplish her journey before the day became 
 hot again. As her companion was able to pursue his 
 intended progress eastward with little additional travel, 
 by taking a by-road over the plains, nearly as direct 
 and quite as passable as the sea-shore route, he readily 
 assented. 
 
 Butler too had slumbered lightly, and awoke at break 
 of clay, and, while awaiting breakfast, threw many a 
 glance across the river, inwardly determined to learn 
 from Mary herself all that she might please to disclose, 
 as soon as propriety permitted him to present himself. 
 But, before the sun peeped over the eastern hills, he 
 saw, with surprise and mortification, the two travellers
 
 142 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 leave the tavern together in their wagon and take the 
 road up the opposite bank of the stream. This abrupt 
 departure convinced him that his suspicions were well 
 founded. " There is no doubt left now," reflected he. 
 " All she cares for is in that wagon with her, and she 
 does not even stop to shake hands with me." So he 
 turned away, vexed and gloomy. Thus, two hearts 
 that yearned for each other were sundered, in mutual 
 suffering, by untoward circumstances misinterpreted, 
 and sensitive delicacy morbidly indulged, when half 
 a dozen words of frank explanation would have set 
 everything right. The like often happens in this cross- 
 grained world. A large part of our difficulties and 
 vexations are simply misunderstandings of ourselves 
 or our neighbors. 
 
 At the breakfast table Mrs. Butler observed James's 
 abstracted air and want of appetite ; and the limited 
 perspicacity of the excellent old lady ascribed it at 
 once to sickness. Her maternal fears led her immedi- 
 ately into a long series of conjectures and an equally 
 long catalogue of remedies, ending with a recom- 
 mendation, safe in any possible case, that he should 
 return directly to his bed. After some trouble, by al- 
 ternate ridicule and strenuous denial, her son silenced 
 if he did not remove her anxiety, and was permitted 
 to account for his lack of appetite by the unusual heat 
 of the weather. 
 
 " Well, my son, if you are sure you are not sick, 
 please run across the bridge and ask Mary to come 
 over and stay till she wishes to go home." 
 
 "Mary is gone home, mother. They started an 
 hour ago." 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! if that an't queer ! But it 
 can't be that Mary would go without coming to see us,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 143 
 
 after being away for months. What makes you 
 think she is gone ? " 
 
 " I saw them go with my own eyes, mother." 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't have believed it. Mary never 
 was in Merrifield before without coming here. She 
 always called me Aunt, you know ; and I'm sure I 
 always felt as if she was my own daughter." 
 
 These comments of his mother of course added to 
 Butler's confidence in his own views of the matter, as 
 well as not a little to his soreness of heart. After a 
 vain attempt to give his attention to a book, he was 
 fain to go out in the hope of relieving his irritation by 
 active exercise ; while his mother, though sorely puz- 
 zled, turned also to her regular occupations for the day. 
 
 A few days after, a note arrived from Mary which 
 further confirmed all parties in their impressions, 
 simply because she had, as was natural enough, 
 guarded herself carefully from any reference to the 
 interesting questions ; and her silence was construed 
 into an informal admission of everything of which a 
 denial would have been desirable. It ran thus : 
 
 " MY DEAR AUNT : I am almost afraid you will 
 not allow me to call you so any longer, after being 
 such a naughty girl as to leave Merrifield the other 
 day without coming to see you. The truth is, that I 
 was worn out with the journeying in the heat all the 
 way from Bucksporton that dreadful day, and thought 
 it best to get home in the cool of the morning, for fear 
 that I should be altogether done up. I have been 
 spending my time very pleasantly on the Kennebec, 
 and shall tell you all about my visit the first time I see 
 you. Yours affectionately, 
 
 "MARY WILMOT.
 
 144 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " P. S. I hear James is at home again. It must 
 be very pleasant to you to have him back." 
 
 James brought the letter to his mother, and heard it 
 read with a suppressed sigh. The allusion to the 
 agreeable sojourn at the Kennebec and the curt men- 
 tion of himself seemed to stamp his surmises with the 
 seal of certainty ; for he attributed the indefmiteness 
 of the explanation to a willingness to avoid all expla- 
 nation upon a subject that might be both delicate and 
 disagreeable, all which was true enough, but for 
 very different reasons from those which he was dis- 
 posed to conjecture. He made no comments ; and his 
 mother laid the letter on her knee, and sat for some 
 moments in silent meditation. At last she looked up 
 and said, 
 
 " What do you think of Mary's letter, James ? " 
 
 " I don't see that there is much in it to think about, 
 mother." 
 
 " Well," continued Mrs. Butler, " it's strange to 
 me as all the rest. Why didn't Mary tell me of her 
 engagement ? she knows how much I think of her. I 
 used to think that you and she would marry, my son ; 
 and I can't help feeling disappointed. I will ask her 
 all about it the next time I see her." 
 
 " Pray don't, mother. If she doesn't choose to 
 mention it, for any reason, it would not be proper for 
 us to ask questions." 
 
 " I don't see why not, my son. She can answer 
 as she pleases." 
 
 " No, you must promise me that you won't say a 
 word more about it, dear mother. If Mary ever had 
 any such idea as you say you have had, it would put 
 me in a very ridiculous and disagreeable position.
 
 A TALK OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 145 
 
 We shall know in good time, and it is no concern of 
 ours. Now promise me, mother, not to talk of it 
 with Mary." 
 
 Mrs. Butler reluctantly promised. Not that she 
 precisely understood James's objections ; but she sup- 
 posed that he must be right, of course, and could not 
 withstand his urgency. So this note written, no doubt, 
 with much misgiving and awkwardness on poor Mary's 
 part, served but to induce James to shut and bolt the 
 door already half closed between them. 
 
 Some weeks after, Mary made a visit to Merrifield, 
 and entered Mrs. Butler's familiar parlor in a most 
 uncomfortable mixture of trepidation, reluctance, and 
 pleasure. She was cordially welcomed by her old 
 friend, whom she also had dearly loved from childhood. 
 But both soon felt themselves under a distressing re- 
 straint, all the more awkward and painful, that reserve 
 was alien to the frank and open natures of each of them, 
 and had never before chilled their intercourse. They 
 felt mutually embarrassed upon the subject nearest to 
 the heart of both. Mary dared not introduce James's 
 name, for fear of betraying her feelings ; neither could 
 she contradict the report of her engagement, which 
 had now reached her ears, to him or his mother, 
 without laying herself open to the suspicion of a pur- 
 pose, the imputation of which would be humiliation 
 not to be borne, however her happiness might be in- 
 volved in it. The old lady, on her part, fettered by 
 her promise to her son, did not venture to allude to 
 the subject for fear of offending his scruples, which 
 were even more sacred and imposing to her because 
 she did not at all comprehend them. The very idea 
 of diplomacy and concealment was fearful to her trans- 
 parent simplicity ; and she was hopelessly perplexed 
 10
 
 146 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 by the annoying secret difficulty which she could 
 neither forget nor remove. Each hoped momentarily 
 that the solution of the mystery might be offered by 
 the other; but explanation was impossible to both. 
 
 The kind old lady, however, urged her young friend 
 to remain with her for the day with so much earnest- 
 ness, that she, half joyfully, half reluctantly consented. 
 It happened unfortunately that James had gone out 
 in ignorance of Mary's arrival. Still more unluckily, 
 he had found an errand to be done, at a little distance, 
 and sent word that he should not be at home to dinner. 
 The excited young guest had been, for some time, sit- 
 ting in tremulous anticipation of his entrance, and the 
 message fell upon her heart like a death-chill. She 
 instantly convinced herself, with the self-torturing in- 
 genuity that so often leads us to take for granted what 
 we dread, that Butler was determined to avoid her. 
 Mrs. Butler, too, could not but feel that it had some- 
 thing to do with her son's strange remonstrances, and 
 added by her constraint and evident discomposure to 
 the impression. The poor girl sat in an agony of 
 mortification and misery, till she could bear it no long- 
 er ; and then, excusing herself on the score of head- 
 ache, if excuse it were, when both head and heart 
 ached to bursting, cut short her wretched stay, and 
 hastened her departure home. " He loves some beau- 
 tiful Boston girl," she moaned to herself, " and thinks 
 it perhaps the kindest thing he can do to let me know 
 that he can never care for me. And perhaps it is kind 
 of him, but O ! how hard to bear ! " So she returned 
 half broken-hearted, to bury her sorrow in the seclu- 
 sion of her home, till she could master a feeling 
 which, from the fondest hope of life, had been changed 
 to bitterness and humiliation.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 147 
 
 Nor was Butler a whit less successful in self-decep- 
 tion. When he heard from his mother of Mary's hur- 
 ried leave-taking, he took it for granted that she 
 abridged the obligatory visit in order to forestall his 
 return. Matters were thus involved, all round, in still 
 deeper mystification. Accident would, without doubt, 
 have cleared up the game of cross purposes before long, 
 but that Mr. Wilmot's farm was in a remote corner, at 
 a considerable distance from the village, with which 
 intercourse was rare and difficult. As Mary now 
 studiously confined herself at home, and other members 
 of the family seldom left it, while Butler's pride 
 would not permit him to force himself upon her retire- 
 ment, there was no further communication between 
 the two households for along time. Mrs. Butler won- 
 dered and wondered to herself what was the matter ; 
 but she was about as likely to undertake a journey to 
 the North Pole as to Mr. Wilmot's forest clearing. 
 
 Dame Rumor too, who is sure to take such matters 
 in hand, especially in small communities, besides the 
 general unreliability of that venerable gossip, was, in 
 this case, specially sure to be at fault. In the first 
 place, there was the report from the Kennebec, sub- 
 stantiated to all appearance beyond reasonable doubt 
 by the arrival of Mary, under the escort of her supposed 
 lover. The fiction, too, was greedily believed by all the 
 maids and matrons of Merrifield, because Mary was a 
 formidable rival to the best of them in matrimonial 
 schemes in general, and the well-known early attach- 
 ment between her and James lent an irresistible 
 strength to the predisposition ; for Butler was far the 
 richest prize in the neighborhood. It was a great re- 
 lief to the feminine half of the community to believe 
 that a young lady so dangerous was withdrawn from
 
 148 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 the market. Wives and sisters, too, easily persuaded 
 husbands and brothers, if they troubled their heads at 
 all concerning the matter, that they knew all about it, 
 especially when backed by such plausible premises. 
 Therefore it was unanimously and conclusively settled 
 that Mary was appropriated by the young minister. 
 If she herself was ever questioned upon the point by 
 doubting curiosity, her consciousness of the notoriety 
 of the former relations between her and James instantly 
 led her to think that the inquiry was made with a ref- 
 erence to him ; and her consequent confusion and blush- 
 ing awkwardness made her denial appear like anything 
 but refutation of the common belief. The disavowal was 
 imputed to shyness, coquetry, some unknown motive 
 of secrecy, to anything, in short but that it was the 
 truth. Thus everything conspired to build up and 
 make impregnable the fancied barrier between the 
 lovers. It was not strange, then, that for months no 
 explanation should occur of the universal blunder. 
 There never was a lie better proved.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVJ. 
 
 THE long hot days of summer had passed quietly 
 away, and the atmosphere began to show signs of 
 approaching winter. Long nights and shortened days 
 materially diminished the power of the sun's rays. 
 Mornings and evenings were cool, and now and then, 
 to a slight degree, frosty, and the air in general clear 
 and bracing. Yet, in unclouded weather, the brilliant 
 sun gave to noonday a warmth sometimes little inferior 
 to that of summer, but free from its sultry temperature. 
 For the surface of the earth was dry, and vegetation 
 had begun to ripen and wither. 
 
 There is no weather more delicious than that of 
 early autumn in Northern America. Cloudless skies, 
 cool, clear breezes, and bright sunshine make it bland 
 and luxurious, without the intensity that renders mid- 
 summer enfeebling and oppressive. 
 
 It was a fine morning in the middle of September ; 
 and the widow Butler's household were astir, as usual, 
 with the dawn of day. While breakfast was in prep- 
 aration, James superintended the out-door duties of 
 the farm, and, this daily business finished, stood watch- 
 ing the eastern horizon, now glowing with the tints of 
 sunrise. The faint rose-colored cloud of transparent 
 light that lay upon the eastern hills, deepened and 
 brightened, till the dark tops of the pines and hem- 
 locks were set in a bordering halo of flashing gold.
 
 1.50 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 The actual appearance of the sun at length rendered 
 the gorgeous brilliancy no longer endurable to mortal 
 eyes ; and James turned into the house, resolving to 
 improve the promise of a delicious day in a ramble into 
 the forest with his rifle. 
 
 " Mother," said he as he rose from table, " I think 
 I will go and kill you a deer to-day. The venison is 
 in prime order now* and I fancy you have not been 
 as well supplied, during my absence, as you used to 
 be. For my part, I should like a juicy steak or a fat 
 haunch right well." 
 
 " You always loved running about in the woods, 
 James ; I don't see why, for they're dreadful dark and 
 gloomy, and it's terrible hard walking. But you and 
 I are different, and it's a beautiful day." 
 
 Satisfied with these two plain conclusions, the old 
 lady sat down to her knitting-work, casting, every few 
 moments, a superintending glance at the rosy damsel 
 who was clearing away the breakfast table. James 
 arrayed himself in a snug, stout frock, into the ample 
 pockets of which he stowed a slight luncheon, his 
 apparatus for kindling fire and his long, keen hunting- 
 knife. Then, taking his rifle from its hooks and throw- 
 ing the powder-horn and bullet-pouch over his shoul- 
 ders, he turned to the door. 
 
 " Good-by, mother. I may be back to night, but 
 don't frizzle to death, if I shouldn't come. I have not 
 had a hunting frolic for a long time, and shall take it 
 fair and easy. You know I don't mind a night in the 
 woods, though you think them so awful. Besides, I 
 mean to ask Captain Dee to accompany me. I like 
 the old gentleman right well, and I shall pass directly 
 by his door. So to-night or to-morrow will be all the 
 same. But I'll bring you a tip-top deer, at any rate,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 151 
 
 unless uncle's ledgers have taken all the wood-craft 
 out of me, which I don't think." 
 
 He examined carefully, while he spoke, the condi- 
 tion of his valued old friend in lock, stock, and barrel, 
 and smiled in the confidence that all was right, and 
 that he could use it skillfully as it deserved. Perhaps, 
 also, part of the smile might be appropriated to his 
 mother's simple horror of the forest wilderness. 
 
 " Good-by, my son," replied the dame ; " take care 
 of yourself, and, mind, don't take cold, if you do sleep 
 out." 
 
 James smiled again, as he said to himself, " I won- 
 der what mother thinks I can do in that last matter. 
 I guess uncle would say 'twas worth a guaranty com- 
 mission to undertake to prevent the dew's falling or 
 the forest's being a trifle cool of an autumn night.'' 
 Then, taking his way across the rough bridge and 
 through the straggling street that ran up the river- 
 side, he soon left the little village behind him, and, 
 ascending the bluff that walled the northern end of the 
 valley, emerged upon a tract where only an occasional 
 clearing, here and there, attested the approach of civ- 
 ilization. Upon one of these outskirting farms, lived 
 Captain Dee, and Butler's active steps soon brought 
 him to his door. 
 
 The veteran was seated upon a chopping-block in 
 the yard, enjoying his pipe and the serene beauty of 
 the landscape that stretched away to the river in front 
 of him, bathed in the clear light of that bright morn- 
 ing. He welcomed his visitor, who had always been 
 a great favorite with him, with hearty cordiality, and 
 readily assented to the proposed excursion. 
 
 " Here, William ! " shouted he, calling his son, 
 a lad of sixteen, from the neighboring field, " here's
 
 152 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 James Butler. Now you've shaken hands, get ready 
 to go with us, if you choose. We can all talk as we 
 go along." 
 
 While William and his father are making their pre- 
 parations, we will introduce them more formally. 
 
 William Dee the senior was as his usual designa- 
 tion of Captain intimated a retired shipmaster ; one 
 of a class of men who generally illustrate all the most 
 valuable traits of New England character. He had 
 spent his youth and mature manhood upon the ocean, 
 and, in the service of merchants of Boston, visited in 
 various capacities almost every country accessible to 
 mercantile enterprise. Energetic, active, shrewd, and 
 upright, he had done full justice to the interests com- 
 mitted to his care ; and his employers had amassed 
 wealth from the fruit of his labors. He might easily 
 have made for himself an ample fortune. But he was 
 too impulsively liberal and open-handed, too much dis- 
 posed to enjoy the good things of life freely, as they 
 came along, to accumulate money for its own sake. 
 If he had but a single dollar in his pocket, he would 
 give half of it to the first man that asked for it, and 
 spend the other half for a good dinner, if it came in 
 his way, without inquiring whether the object of his 
 bounty were deserving or not, and. without a thought 
 where his own supper was to come from. He had, 
 therefore, retired from business with a very moderate 
 competence, not sufficient to meet the luxurious ex- 
 penditure of large cities. Desirous of passing his re- 
 maining days in ease and quiet, and being fond of rural 
 amusements, he had purchased a farm in this retired 
 spot. Here he lived in simple and unostentatious com- 
 fort, making his moderate income more than sufficient 
 for his wants by the cultivation of his land, which
 
 .4 TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 153 
 
 supplied him and William the only members of his 
 household excepting his hired man and housekeeper 
 with the great staples of subsistence. 
 
 The Captain's personal appearance corresponded 
 with his character. Rather short and stout, but well 
 made and athletic, his open features, full blue eye, and 
 ruddy complexion showed that he appreciated and en- 
 joyed all the comforts of life, without any unnecessary 
 cares or anxieties being permitted to cloud the passing 
 day. He had nothing of the thoughtful, hard-worked 
 air so common with his countrymen ; but wore habit- 
 ually the bluff, frank, and hearty demeanor of the well- 
 fed Englishman. The kindliness and generosity of his 
 character beamed from his countenance, and shed a 
 general serenity upon his temper. He could easily be 
 roused by manifest wrong-doing to a warm and bois- 
 terous indignation ; but malice or abiding ill-humor 
 were not among the possibilities of his nature. One 
 habit he had, contracted from his long experience of 
 the rough chances and rude companionship of a sea- 
 faring life, an inveterate trick of ornamenting his 
 discourse with a superfluity of expletives, especially in 
 moments of excitement. To tell the plain truth, the 
 good Captain swore rather severely. Yet, though of- 
 fensive to taste and sometimes to more serious consid- 
 erations, it could not impress any one who knew him 
 with the idea of intentional irreverence or bad temper. 
 It was the unregulated ebullition of impulsive and care- 
 less boisterousness, a sort of safety-valve to the over- 
 flowing animal spirits and the quick, warm rush of his 
 ideas, unchecked by prudence or calculation, .a reck- 
 lessness of manner much more than a sin. 
 
 We shall have more regard to the Captain's dignity 
 and genuine worth than he had himself, and purpose to
 
 154 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 soften down and extenuate, as we proceed, the 
 graphic and racy, but scarcely decorous garniture of 
 his speech. 
 
 William, his intelligent face beaming with antici- 
 pated pleasure, brought his father's rifle with its proper 
 accompaniments, together with a lighter double-bar- 
 reled gun for his own use. 
 
 " Well, James, my lad, how long a trip do you pro- 
 pose to make of it ?" 
 
 " Very much as you please, Captain. We will get 
 back to-night if you prefer ; for perhaps you don't 
 feel like such long routes as we used to make together, 
 five or six years ago. If you like to camp out, I told 
 mother not to worry about me if she did not see me 
 to-night." 
 
 " You are grown so stout and tall, my boy, that I 
 suppose you can outwork me now, but I don't grow 
 old very fast. I never abused the body that God gave 
 me, and am now reaping the reward of my wisdom 
 in a green and active old age. I'm good for a tough 
 job yet, thank Heaven ! And old Polly is the only 
 one to worry after Bill and me ; and it's little she 
 troubles herself out of her kitchen affairs, for which 
 Heaven be thanked again ! One of your coddling old 
 crones would fidget me to death. If the wolves were 
 to eat us up, I do believe the old devil would only won- 
 der how they could devour such a tough old fellow 
 as I, without boiling or roasting. So let's go, and get 
 back when we are ready. But you had better put 
 some bread and cheese into your pockets, Bill. Hunt- 
 ers ought to kill their own grub ; but I've no idea of 
 going without dinner, if the deer prove shy. By the 
 way, too " 
 
 The old gentleman here interrupted himself to
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 155 
 
 open a closet, where stood a portly demijohn, from 
 which he filled a pocket flask with some genuine 
 old brandy. The temperance doctrines were not 
 taught in those days ; and if they had been, we do not 
 think the Captain would have gone for total absti- 
 nence. 
 
 " This confounded brook- water is all the better for 
 a dash of good Cognac. But such things are like 
 powder, boys, to be handled carefully. Too heavy 
 a charge spoils the aim, and kicks you over."
 
 156 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE party now left the house and struck into the 
 winding path, hardly deserving the name of a road, 
 which led up the stream. As they ascended a gentle 
 slope, the Captain stopped to look back upon the pros- 
 pect below. 
 
 " By Jove, James, this is a glorious day, and I think 
 this landscape pleasanter than the view down Cornhill. 
 What do you say ? " 
 
 " It certainly is so to me, for it is my home ; and I 
 confess I do not like city life. There is too much re- 
 straint and ceremony, too much sameness and confine- 
 ment, for my taste. I love this free air and wide range. 
 I can do what I please, and nobody minds me ; go 
 where I please, and nobody finds fault. A man is 
 more a man here, if he is less a gentleman, and that 
 he needn't be." 
 
 "No, no. A man may be a gentleman every- 
 where ; whether his boots are blacked with Day & 
 Martin, or daubed with 'Guagus clay. There is, as 
 you say, a pleasant freedom about our simple life here. 
 A scene like this has more of the grand and pictur- 
 esque, too, than a country that has been smoothed off 
 and tamed down by man's labor." 
 
 The scene upon which they were looking, was in- 
 deed striking. At their feet lay the little straggling 
 village of comfortable but unpretending cottages, sur- 
 rounded by fields of grass or other crops, among which
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 157 
 
 rose, at intervals, the blackened stumps of the former 
 occupants of the soil. Irregular fences, of such mate- 
 rials as were at hand, protected them from the cattle. 
 Here a row of bristling roots, set with their prongs in 
 the air, there a hedge of brush, topped with riders 
 of spruce poles, in another place a barricade of slabs 
 from the saw-mill, and now and then a regular con- 
 struction of cedar rails and posts, or of small trees laid 
 in zigzag, marked the boundaries of the inclosures. 
 Little clumps of silver firs or young birches were 
 sprinkled about the cleared lands, as if the native for- 
 est, loath to leave its ancient seat, was struggling des- 
 perately with the innovations of the farmer. Below 
 soft, sloping banks, or between abrupt bluffs of clay, 
 the little river glided murmuring on, widening out 
 gradually as it neared the sea. Its embouchure was 
 glittering in the morning sun at a distance of about 
 five miles. In several of the bends within sight, the 
 stream fell in cascades over the ledges, across which 
 log-dams had been constructed ; and where the wheels 
 of the saw-mills were seen flashing through the tum- 
 bling spray, and the sharp crash of the saws in the 
 pine logs came, softened by distance, on the breeze, like 
 a giant's whisper. The picture was bordered every- 
 where by the forest, principally of dark evergreens, 
 variegated here and there with birch, maples, and 
 beeches, that were now beginning to assume their gor- 
 geous autumnal livery of brown, scarlet, and gold. 
 Away up the rising slopes swelled the boundless 
 woods. The summits of the hills were mantled en- 
 tirely with the foliage of the hard-wood trees, now 
 displaying every tint of the rainbow. Far off above 
 the hill-tops, beyond the wide expanse of leaves, 
 Humpback Mountain lifted his forehead into the clear
 
 158 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 air, like a distant island from an ocean rolling in long, 
 sweeping waves. An atmosphere of perfect purity 
 shed over all a coloring of the highest brilliancy, in 
 the open grounds and sky ; while the heavy masses and 
 impenetrable shadows of the forest deepened the tone 
 of the whole with contrasted shades of imposing grand- 
 eur and effect. There was enough of civilization to 
 give animation and human sympathy to the scene, as 
 the eye dwelt upon the easy sweep of the fields and 
 their simple homesteads ; enough of rough and uneven 
 transitionary character to impart the highest degree of 
 picturesque beauty, which was reflected back again 
 from the sparkling river, with its graceful bends, its 
 deep, still pools, its rippling eddies, and its tumbling 
 falls. At either verge, Nature displayed her noblest 
 elements of sublimity in the broad expanse of the At- 
 lantic, shining under the morning sun, and the deep- 
 bosomed and limitless woods, with their mountain 
 crown, extending inland far beyond the power of 
 vision. 
 
 The river, as it stole from the dark border of the 
 trees, seemed to emerge into a new life, and to be a 
 link between two worlds. And so in truth it was. 
 On the one hand, lay mute and solitary and wildly 
 majestic, unprogressive Nature, as in the day of her 
 creation. On the other, stripped of the veil of 
 uncounted centuries, she was yielding to the warm 
 impulses of intellect a new existence ; she, the 
 unchangeable, becoming the theatre and beautiful 
 medium of incessant change, and giving forth, to the 
 earnest demand of her master-spirit, the rich treasures 
 of her secret bosom. 
 
 After a few moments' contemplation, the party 
 turned again to the northward and pursued their jour-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 159 
 
 ney. Young William was soon in advance with his 
 dog, scrutinizing the thickets and wood-paths for par- 
 tridges on which to try his marksmanship. The other 
 two proceeded more deliberately, chatting as they 
 walked along;. 
 
 O 
 
 " Don't you mean to return to the counting-room, 
 then, James ? " said Dee. 
 
 " No, not I. I prefer to live here with my mother. 
 I suppose most people will think me a great fool; for 
 my uncle makes me very kind and liberal offers." 
 
 " Well, my boy, I shall be right glad to have your 
 society here ; but I am not sure that I don't think you 
 a fool myself, to give up such a chance for this wilder- 
 ness. You might make a handsome fortune in ten or 
 fifteen years, and then do just as you pleased." 
 
 " I can do what I please now," replied the youth, 
 laughing, " without any trouble at all ; for I am wise 
 enough to please to do what I can easily. What good, 
 then, to spend the flower of my life, at the sacrifice of 
 all my favorite pursuits and pleasures, to earn what I 
 do not want, and shall have lost all capacity and incli- 
 nation to enjoy when I have earned it ? " 
 
 " Well, well, that isn't a thousand miles from the 
 truth, either. If we are contented, happy, and use- 
 ful, by Jupiter, I don't know what more we can do. 
 And it is more, a good deal, than most people contrive 
 to do in this world." 
 
 " I sha'n't forfeit your good opinion, then, if I neg- 
 lect the chance of becoming a member of the firm of 
 Butler & Co. and coming out, twenty years hence, 
 too rich to work, and too industrious by habit to be 
 happy without it ; too fat and lazy to shoot or fish, and 
 too restless to do nothing ; too active in mind to be 
 unemployed, and yet respecting no books but a jour- 
 nal and ledger. What do you say about it ? "
 
 160 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " I say that I like you very well as you are, and as 
 you are likely to be here. If you are suited with 
 such a position, there is no wisdom in seeking another, 
 that may not, take it all in all, be a better or a happier 
 one. But it is a question for you to decide for your- 
 self. I will only advise you to consider it well before 
 you do decide ; and God bless you, my boy, do what 
 you may." 
 
 A hearty shake of the hand was interchanged 
 between the friends ; and the conversation turned 
 upon the objects of their excursion. They were now 
 travelling over the barren plains, mostly covered with 
 low copses of birch bushes, or the still humbler growth 
 of whortleberry, sweet-fern, and brakes. A brisk 
 walk of something more than two hours brought them 
 to the farther edge of the barrens, where the charac- 
 ter of the vegetation indicated the change of soil. The 
 tall trunks of the red pine began to rear their pur- 
 plish brown columns into the air about them, now 
 singly, now in groups, and at length in heavy and 
 extensive glades. The short, snappish rustle of the 
 wind, in bush and brake, was superseded by the 
 heavy, surging murmur of the tree-tops, where, more 
 than a hundred feet above their heads, the stiff tassels 
 tossed in the autumn breeze. A kindred and very 
 similar reverberation now began to break upon their 
 ears, distinguishable from the wind chiefly by its 
 unbroken and continuous rush of sound. It was the 
 roar of the distant river, which here crossed their 
 track. The noise of its waters chafing over long rap- 
 ids, pervaded the atmosphere, like the full, energetic 
 tramp of an impetuous march, to which the deep roll- 
 ing bursts from the waving foliage overhead formed a 
 fitful and harmonizing accompaniment ; till the tremu-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 161 
 
 lous air was transformed into one concert of majestic 
 music. A short space brought them to the banks of 
 the stream, at the head of the great falls. The river, 
 here about two hundred feet wide, was fordable almost 
 anywhere, in ordinary stages of the water. But the 
 masses of rock projecting above the surface at this 
 spot, arresting the logs in tangled rafts as they floated 
 down the stream, commonly afforded a rough but safe 
 bridge for the passage of pedestrians. Such was the 
 case now ; and James and the Captain made their way, 
 over irregular piles of timber, to a broad platform clus- 
 tered around a huge boulder near the centre of the 
 water-course. Here they seated themselves with a 
 common impulse, and gazed for some moments in 
 silence at the scene below them. 
 
 The current forced its broken way over and through 
 continuous ledges, crowned here and there with masses 
 of scattered rocks, that rose like the disjointed ruins of 
 a gigantic wall from the foaming waters. Now the 
 concentrated stream poured, in a black and glassy 
 rush, through deep channels overhung by frowning 
 battlements ; now it trickled in broken and frittered 
 threads over flat and jagged surfaces, to plunge again 
 into cavernous depths. Here it wheeled in circling 
 sweeps around obstructing masses ; there it poured in 
 frothing confusion among less elevated and sparser 
 impediments. Deep eddies, where the troubled waters 
 seemed to retire for, a time to regain strength for the 
 fierce struggle, reflected the peaceful image of the Sep- 
 tember sky, whence the restless current again shot out 
 to dash itself in renewed fury over the rough and tan- 
 gled path below. Sometimes the smooth and placid 
 surface betrayed, only by the rapid passage of a fallen 
 
 leaf or broken branch, the impetuous momentum that 
 11
 
 162 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 bore along its apparently slumbering tide ; sometimes 
 every foot of its course bore testimony of its fierce and 
 struggling progress, in boiling circles and furious leaps, 
 that recoiled in gurgling spray to their starting-point. 
 As far as the eye could reach, the river's bed was full 
 of precipices, rugged rocks, and raging waters. 
 
 The banks of the stream were lined with trees of 
 various species, but chiefly of the resinous kinds. 
 Dark hemlocks, with their fan-like masses of foliage, 
 pyramidal spruces and firs, tall and stately pines, with 
 here and there a birch, maple, or beech, rose in thick 
 ranks upon the slopes and top of the banks. At the 
 level of the water, cedars shot up wherever a little 
 nook afforded them chance to root. Frequently, insin- 
 uating themselves into crannies of the ledges and 
 driven from the perpendicular by beetling rocks and 
 overhanging shelves, they bent in graceful curves over 
 the water, connected with the shore only at the 
 extreme trunk and dipping their drooping branches 
 in the stream. 
 
 A kingfisher was employed in looking after his din- 
 ner among the pools and eddies ; and a hawk was cir- 
 cling high up in the air, screaming at every revolution 
 of his sweeping flight. Otherwise, all was still and 
 motionless, except the roar of the water and the rus- 
 tling of the trees in the occasional swells of the wind. 
 
 Captain Dee laid down his gun, and, producing his 
 tinder-box and pipe, prepared to indulge himself in 
 smoking during their rest. 
 
 " We have had a smart walk, James ; and I think, 
 by Jove, we can't do better than sit here awhile and 
 enjoy this glorious scene. Meanwhile, I'll have a 
 smoke. William, boy-like, is ranging ahead of us still. 
 But he'll take care of himself. How strange it is that
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 163 
 
 all men, both civilized and savage, that can muster a 
 pipe and any sort of weed which will serve the pur- 
 pose, have universally adopted smoking as a luxury 
 and refreshment ! It is the emblem of peace and 
 friendship, of repose and enjoyment, everywhere, 
 King James to the contrary notwithstanding. There's 
 no prospect to be seen in Cornhill like this, hey, 
 my boy ? " 
 
 " No, indeed, Captain, man can do nothing towards 
 creating such an one, and nothing to add to its beauty. 
 In fact, the great charm of it, to my mind, is its thor- 
 ough isolation from man and his works. It is pure, 
 original nature. No human being has ever traced or 
 rubbed out a line of the picture ; but the first man 
 that ever saw it, saw it as we do now. I don't won- 
 der that the old poets fancied they could see Naiads, 
 Hamadryads, and other fanciful beings in such spots as 
 this. They have a character entirely peculiar ; and 
 we might expect their inhabitants to be so too." 
 
 " Yes, and so they are, and be d d to 'em ! " 
 
 responded Dee. " Here's a black fly been dancing 
 round my nose ever since we've been here. If it 
 weren't for the frosty nights we have had, we couldn't 
 live an hour on this rock ; they'd devour us. But as 
 for your wood and water nymphs, I don't know where 
 you will look for them, unless a copper-colored one 
 will serve your turn ; and even they are getting to be 
 rare." 
 
 " I suppose I have a little the advantage of you in 
 romance, Captain. I have not weathered so many 
 storms as you. But does not a perfectly wild land- 
 scape, like this, make a stronger impression upon you 
 than any other ? " 
 
 " Yes, it does, my boy ; and the flies are not a bit
 
 164 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 behind the scenery in that respect." The Captain 
 here made a fierce plunge at his puny tormentor. 
 " But you are right. It's like looking back to the cre- 
 ation, and behind the first beginnings of human soci- 
 ety. Besides, this primitive nature is both beautiful 
 and grand." 
 
 " It produces upon my mind, Captain, a feeling 
 both of awe and admiration. It is the incarnation of 
 power and infinity, for we can see no end or limit. It 
 is the same to us, as if this forest covered the uni- 
 verse. Then this awful quiet, not a sound, but very 
 rarely, of living tiling. It is strange to us busy mor- 
 tals, and as impressive as strange ; as if it hid some 
 dread mystery. It is like standing, as Adam did 
 before other men existed, alone with Providence and 
 God. It carries us back to the first principles of our 
 being, and abrogates all our artificial ideas. I always 
 wish I was a poet or a painter, or both, when I get 
 among these wild places. But your pipe is smoked 
 out; and we have our dinner to earn yet. I sha'n't 
 fancy crackers and cheese, if a deer is to be had." 
 
 " Let's be going, then. But when I get with you, I 
 am full of gossip. Our neighbors generally don't trou- 
 ble their heads much with speculation ; and as for old 
 Poll, hang her, she's worse than an Indian squaw. I 
 saw William pop over several partridges as we came 
 along ; so you need not come down to bread and cheese. 
 I heard him fire on the other side of the river just 
 now, and shouldn't wonder if he has killed a deer. 
 He's a keen shot for a youngster." 
 
 They now picked their way across the stranded logs 
 to the farther shore. Butler's whistle soon brought 
 to them Marquis, a beautiful white and liver-colored 
 spaniel, William's pet and inseparable companion.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 165 
 
 Following the dog, as he bounded on before them, they 
 entered the forest, and soon found the lad employed in 
 dressing a fine buck that had fallen a victim to his 
 aim. 
 
 " William has the first deer, sure enough, Captain. 
 I am not often behind in this matter ; but I must be 
 content with second best now." 
 
 "A nice fat fellow, two years and in prime or- 
 der," said the Captain, glancing at his antlers. " He 
 will give us as much as we shall want to carry home, 
 and a good dinner to boot." 
 
 " So he will ; but I must try my hand too, if we 
 chance upon more. We could put them up in a tree 
 and come out with a horse to-morrow. The next thing 
 now is to choose a place to dine." 
 
 " There is a monstrous boulder over the ridge, and 
 a brook hard by ; couldn't be a nicer spot." 
 
 " Yes, I remember it, William. Let us go there, 
 Captain. Bill, take this fellow's fore-legs, and I will 
 carry the hinder ones ; he will be light now that you 
 have dressed him." 
 
 Just in advance of where they stood, the ground 
 rose in a long and moderate slope, covered with hard 
 wood, spruce, and hemlock. On the further side, it 
 descended more steeply to a narrow valley, through 
 which ran a small brook on its way to the river. An- 
 other narrow and rounded rid^e, or horseback, as it 
 
 O ' ' 
 
 would be there styled, from the resemblance of its con- 
 formation, ran at right angles a short distance out into 
 the valley, like a causeway, and terminated in a grav- 
 elly mound or knoll. Nearly upon the highest point 
 of the little hill rested a huge mass of granite, in size 
 and general outline resembling a small house without 
 the roof. Its sides were nearly perpendicular and
 
 166 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 smooth, except on one end, where some, slight projec- 
 tions, caused by the disintegration of a seam in its 
 structure, afforded footing sufficient to enable an active 
 man, with the help of the contiguous branches of a 
 cluster of birches, to scale its top, elsewhere inacces- 
 sible to man or beast. Covered with gray mosses and 
 lichens, the vast rock lay, like the ark on Ararat, 
 where the waters of the primeval flood, or some trav- 
 elling glacier of olden days, had left it stranded. Upon 
 the dry surface of the knoll beneath it was a small, 
 clear spot, well fitted for the purpose for which Wil- 
 liam Dee had suggested it.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 167 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE young men soon kindled a fire under the side 
 of the rock, and broiled upon the coals a fat venison 
 steak, which, with the accompaniments supplied by 
 coat-pockets, furnished a dinner that might satisfy the 
 most fastidious appetite. Marquis, who had lain, dur- 
 ing the progress of the meal, with his head quietly 
 resting upon his paws, like a well-bred dog patiently 
 biding his time, had retired round a corner with a 
 superabundant supply of bones and scraps dealt out to 
 him by his biped friends. The Captain was enjoying 
 his pipe ; and a desultory conversation, such as suits 
 the inert mood that follows a hearty repast, was kept 
 up for some time. The sun was bright, and light 
 fleecy clouds floated along on the fresh breeze, which 
 was only recognized, however, in the shelter of the 
 woods, by an occasional rustling whirl of the leaves 
 that began already to fall from the trees, and the con- 
 tinuous moaning of the tall tops of the pines far over- 
 head. A merry little squirrel now and then trilled 
 out his frolicsome chirrup, as he basked or scampered 
 about in enjoyment of the lingering atmosphere of 
 summer; for Marquis was both too well trained to 
 higher game, and too agreeably occupied, to interrupt 
 him. 
 
 All at once the quiet scene was disturbed by a loud, 
 sharp challenge from the dog, who sprang round
 
 168 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 from the corner, where he had been maundering over 
 the more refractory portions of his dinner, and stood 
 with erect tail and ears, snuffing the air and growling 
 furiously. The little squirrel rushed in consternation 
 up a neighboring tree ; while William and Butler, 
 springing to their feet, seized their guns, and the Cap- 
 tain took his pipe from his rnouth. 
 " What is it, boy ? " said William, as all three 
 looked and! listened earnestly towards the quarter to 
 which the dog directed their attention ; " what do 
 you hear, boy? " 
 
 A moment more made audible, to their less acute 
 senses, a pattering tramp as of many animals in rapid 
 motion. Directly in front of them, the sound suddenly 
 ceased, and was succeeded by a chorus of yelps and 
 snarling. 
 
 " The wolves have smelt out the entrails of your 
 deer, William, and are quarreling over them. We 
 can get a good shot while they are in the muss. Your 
 father and Marquis will do better to stay here." 
 
 With quick but careful steps, the young men ran 
 towards the top of the ridge ; thence proceeding in 
 perfect stillness, they gained the covert of a thicket 
 of young firs, which protected them from discovery, 
 while, by circumspect improvement of casual openings, 
 they could see most that was going on in their front. 
 
 In the open glade beyond, where the refuse portions 
 of the deer had been left, were from forty to fifty 
 wolves. Some were sitting upon their haunches ; 
 some wandered about snuffing for a stray mouthful ; 
 and a dozen or more were still clustered where the 
 heap of garbage had been, snapping and growling at 
 each other, under the influence of the feelings excited,- 
 by their tantalized and wholly unsated appetite. After
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 169 
 
 peeping through his loop-hole at this wild scene, Wil- 
 liam leveled his gun ; but Butler laid his hand upon 
 the lock, saying in a whisper, 
 
 "No, no, Bill, it won't do. There are too many 
 of 'em ; we must beat a retreat as quick as possible." 
 
 The two then stole carefully back over the summit 
 of the ridge ; and, after placing a safe distance be- 
 tween them and the ravenous animals, returned as 
 quickly as possible to the rock. 
 
 "Well, Captain," said Butler, "it is lucky we have 
 this castle at hand. There are not much less than 
 fifty wolves out yonder. I should think nothing of 
 half a dozen ; but the pack is strong and half-starved. 
 I believe they will dog us. The wind blows between 
 us and them, or they would have scented us before 
 now. We must take to the top of the rock for a while, 
 and see how matters turn out." 
 
 " Right, James. They are cowards alone, but devils 
 in such gangs as this. You and Bill get the venison 
 up ; the d d rascals sha'n't have that to dine upon. 
 The dog too, take him up with you. Leave your guns 
 by me. I will keep guard till all is ready." 
 
 The youths then scrambled up the steep rock, some- 
 times stepping from one knob of its worn surface to an- 
 other, sometimes swinging themselves up by a friendly 
 bough, and passing from hand to hand the carcass of the 
 deer, and assisting Marquis over the points impractica- 
 ble to quadruped locomotion. 
 
 As Butler had anticipated, the wolves soon caught 
 indications of their neighborhood ; and scarcely had 
 they reached the elevated terrace with their load, when 
 the foremost animals began to show themselves over 
 the ridge, snuffing the wind and yelping eagerly. 
 
 " James," said the Captain, " come down to the
 
 170 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 crotch in the birch just over my head, to take the guns 
 from me. I will give them a salute, as they come 
 along the horseback." 
 
 " Let me come down, Captain ; and you climb up 
 while you have time. I can scramble back quicker 
 than you." 
 
 " No, no, do as I say, boy. I am not too stiff for 
 that yet. My shots will make them a little cautious 
 about making a rush, I'll warrant it." 
 
 Dee then, placing the two spare guns behind him, 
 stepped under the cover of the birch bushes, the tops 
 of which also screened Butler's post upon the rock. 
 Some of the beasts had now found the trail, and were 
 nosing along the descent towards the party, when a 
 rifle flashed through the boughs, and one of them was 
 sent, whining and yelping, to the rear with a broken 
 leg. Another ball hissed sharply along the ridge, and 
 stretched a second wolf dead upon the ground. But 
 just as the third gun was raised, Butler exclaimed, 
 " Up with you, Captain. I see the heads of a host of 
 'em over the hill now. Give me the guns, and jump up." 
 
 All three presently stood safe upon the platform, 
 where poor Marquis, half belligerent and half terrified, 
 lay crouching at his master's feet, shivering and growl- 
 ing at the crowd of advancing foes. As they came 
 up with their lame comrade, a number began to worry 
 him, with the well-known ferocity of their nature. 
 He still retained, however, vigor enough to requite 
 bite with bite, and snarl by snarl. So he was per- 
 mitted to withdraw into a thicket to lie down and lick 
 his wounds at his leisure. The gaunt beasts then 
 turned pell-mell upon the body of their dead comrade, 
 tearing it in pieces and maintaining a running fight 
 over its mangled remnants, till not a morsel but the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 171 
 
 skull was left upon the ground. A stout battle was 
 held over this last by a dozen of the most powerful ; 
 which terminated in its seizure by an enormous gray 
 old patriarch, who bore it off in triumph, followed at a 
 timid distance by two or three, not less hungry, though 
 less strong. These little matters disposed of, one of 
 the leaders of the pack, whose eyes had hitherto been 
 attracted to the surface of the ground by the quest of 
 something to allay his voracious appetite, perceived 
 the little garrison upon the top of the boulder, and an- 
 nounced his discovery by a loud yelp. The scattered 
 prowlers gathered directly from all quarters and formed 
 an irregular semicircle, at a small distance, around its 
 base ; expressing their ferocious interest in their coveted 
 prey by a combination of unearthly howlings, that 
 filled the air with its sanguinary discord. That wild, 
 boding, infernal cry, half moan, half savage fury, 
 like the shriek of an angry ghost, repeated from 
 throat to throat and prolonged in long-drawn yells, 
 might have struck terror into the stoutest heart. But 
 
 C5 
 
 the hunters felt a confidence in their granite strong- 
 hold, that converted the appalling sounds into an occa- 
 sion of indignant contempt rather than of fear. 
 
 They eyed for a few moments in silence the diaboli- 
 cal exhibition of sanguinary rage, till the stout-hearted 
 and jolly old Captain, seating himself quietly down, 
 said to his companions, 
 
 " Here we are, safe enough, and regularly block- 
 aded by these infernal scamps. What's to be done 
 now, James ? I don't care to spend the night on this 
 rock." 
 
 " O, I think we'll raise the siege shortly," replied 
 Butler, laughing, " provided our ammunition holds 
 out. We can kill or hurt half of them ; and the rest
 
 172 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 will eat them up. When their bellies are filled, they 
 won't concern themselves about us any farther." 
 
 " Very likely, that's their way. Meanwhile I go 
 for killing as many of the rascals as we can. How 
 many balls have you, Bill ? " 
 
 " About twenty, father." 
 
 " And you, James ? " 
 
 " Nearly as many, besides some slugs." 
 
 " That's well. Let me count, one two three 
 twelve. I've a baker's dozen in my pocket. We'll 
 do famously. Now, then, load and fire, as fast as you 
 can, but make every shot tell." 
 
 The Captain's advice was skillfully and energetic- 
 ally followed out. A rapid and sustained fire was 
 poured forth on the devoted animals. The sharp 
 crack of the rifles and the rounder and duller report 
 of William's double-barrel, in rapid succession, carried 
 death or dreadful wounds among them. The close 
 proximity and the ample mark offered by their bodies, 
 to men accustomed to behead a partridge at fifty yards 
 with a single ball, rendered the fire most destructive. 
 The scene soon became one of intense animation. 
 Wreaths of smoke curled up every moment into the 
 air ; and the hiss of bullets and slugs was mingled 
 with the yells of the wounded and the savage howls 
 of those still bent on the attack. , Now and then some 
 of the older and fiercer wolves after standing in a 
 half crouch, with gathered haunches and extended 
 fore-paws, for a few moments, while they howled them- 
 selves into a fury dashed desperately upon the 
 boulder, in a hopeless attempt at scrambling up its 
 side. But the hard, perpendicular surface afforded 
 them no footing ; and they fell backward, after an im- 
 potent struggle, lucky if a bullet had not meanwhile 
 put a stop to any further display of activity.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 173 
 
 The ground was soon strewn with a dozen or more dead 
 bodies ; while the neighboring bushes were filled with 
 disabled combatants, employed alternately in nursing 
 their hurts and venting their mingled rage and pain in 
 whines and growls. The evident success of the de- 
 fense raising the spirits of the besieged, the blood- 
 thirsty temper of battle gained the mastery ; and it 
 began to be a source of excited pleasure and a trial 
 of skill, with the youngsters of the party. 
 
 " William," said Butler, " see those two stout 
 fellows standing side by side under that beech. I will 
 put a ball between the eyes of the right-hand one, 
 and do you take the chap on your own 'side. Are you 
 ready ? Now then one, two, three." 
 
 The guns flashed together ; and when the smoke 
 cleared away, the wolf fired at by Butler lay motion- 
 less upon the ground, a large crimson spot on his fore- 
 head attesting the accuracy of the aim. William's ball 
 missed the head of its object, but, grazing under his ear, 
 laid open a ghastly furrow along his back. The spine 
 of the beast was broken, and he rolled over and over 
 upon the ground, filling the air with hideous howls 
 of agony. 
 
 " Not clean work, William ! A smooth-bore is not 
 exactly reliable. But you made a close shot. Give 
 the poor devil another to put him out of his misery." 
 
 Both recharged their guns, and were just on the 
 point of firing again, when Marquis, excjted beyond 
 measure by the commotion of the fight, rushed to the 
 brink of the rock, barking with all his might. But, 
 failing to check his career in time, he lost his balance 
 just upon the edge, and tumbled over among the bushes 
 at its base. During the whole contest he had been 
 gallantly darting to and fro, pouring out his defiance
 
 174 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 of the charo-es of his foes below ; but until now he had 
 
 O 
 
 wisely regulated his ardor and kept his ground of 
 vantage. With a despairing whine, he slid over the 
 verge, and now lay crouching and trembling in the 
 thicket. Four or five of the wolves observed his fall, 
 and dashed at his covert. But William, holding his 
 gun in his left hand, seized the end of a long bough 
 with his right, and swung himself off the rock. As the 
 
 o * o 
 
 limb bent downward with his weight, he let go his hold 
 and dropped upon his feet by the side of his shivering 
 favorite. Quick as thought, his leveled gun laid the 
 foremost assailant upon the ground. But two more 
 were close behind ; and other-s still, at more cautious 
 distance, menaced to support the attack. Before he 
 could fire again, the second rushed in, and made his 
 point at the dog. Fortunately for poor Marquis, a 
 rotten stump stood directly between him and the terri- 
 ble jaws of his enemy. The enraged animal seized 
 upon it with his teeth, and tore it to pieces with a sin- 
 gle effort. But while his mouth was full of the rotten 
 wood, the gallant spaniel, reassured by the timely aid 
 of his young master, fastened his sharp teeth upon his 
 throat, while William buried his knife twice in his 
 shaggy breast, and, with a faint growl, he fell lifeless on 
 his side. Butler had hastily followed William down, 
 and the crack of his rifle sent the third wolf to the right 
 about, with his fore leg shattered and his side torn open. 
 Those who were coming up in the rear, intimidated 
 with this warm reception, halted, and, crouching in a 
 still threatening attitude, contented themselves for the 
 present with a ferocious display of teeth and a savage 
 growling. 
 
 Butler now stepped boldly to the front and reloaded ; 
 and his intrepid demeanor, together with the severe 
 lesson they had received, kept them in check.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 175 
 
 " Carry up the dog, Bill. Lean your gun against 
 the tree, and I will take it with mine. But load first. 
 I can then keep these devils back with three shots for 
 time enough." 
 
 Loading his gun as rapidly as possible and leaving it 
 at James's side, William took up the dog, and, placing 
 him upon a spur of the rock at the height of his head, 
 sprang himself up into the tree ; and the two were again 
 in a minute safe upon the summit. Vexed at the 
 escape of their expected prey, the crouching wolves 
 again threatened a charge. But Butler's cool eye was 
 on them. The moment he saw them rise on their 
 haunches, he laid aside his own rifle, as a sure reserve, 
 and fired both barrels of William's piece in rapid suc- 
 cession. Both balls took effect, and a general retreat 
 followed the discharge. James, taking advantage of 
 the lull, clambered through the tree and up the rock, 
 William meeting him half way, and relieving him of 
 the supernumerary gun. 
 
 " Well, Marquis, you didn't get a scratch, after all. 
 Don't try that again, boy, however." 
 
 Marquis did not seem to need this prudent advice. 
 He looked up into James's face and wagged his tail 
 gently, but lay still for some time, panting and trem- 
 bling, an occasional whine testifying to the perturba- 
 tion of mind he had undergone. 
 
 o 
 
 " You managed that sally bravely, boys," said the 
 Captain. " I stood ready to fire, all the while. But 
 you got along so well that I would not interfere. But 
 what's to be done next ? For my part, I am tired of 
 murdering these poor wretches. It begins to look too 
 much like butchery." 
 
 " I think," said Butler, " that if we lie down flat upon 
 the rock, for some time, out of their sight, that they
 
 176 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 will gorge themselves upon these carcasses and be off. 
 If they won't, I don't see but we must shoot 'em up, or 
 stay here all night." 
 
 " Let us try your plan first. I think it will work." 
 
 So saying, the Captain stretched himself at full length, 
 with his head resting on the unskinned deer, and made 
 himself so comfortable that he fell fast asleep. Wil- 
 liam and Butler lay down side by side, with Marquis 
 between them, keeping up a conversation in whispers. 
 The dog, still trembling with fear and excitement, 
 looked occasionally into their faces with a low whine 
 and licked their hands, as if to express his reliance 
 on their mutual relations of offense and defense against 
 the brutes, whose fierce quarrelings and ravenous con- 
 tentions were going on below them. 
 
 After the lapse of half an hour, Butler, on peeping 
 cautiously over the edge of the rock, found that mat- 
 ters had taken very much the course he had predicted. 
 Many of the dead and some of the most helpless of the 
 wounded animals had been torn to pieces and devoured. 
 Such of those hurt, as were able, had slunk away. 
 The more fortunate survivors of the fray were roaming 
 about, smelling after stray fragments of skin or bones, 
 or squatting in little groups, with the lazy and apathetic 
 air of all brutes after a good meal. Still they hung 
 about the spot, seemingly inclined to take things 
 leisurely. 
 
 Butler glanced at the sun, and, seeing that the af- 
 ternoon was more than half gone, turned to advise 
 with his associates as to the expediency of descending 
 and attempting to drive them off, under the persuasion 
 that satiety, as well as the experience of hard knocks to 
 be looked for, might have abated their ferocity. As 
 he was about to speak, a wreath of smoke curled up
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 177 
 
 among the brush- wood hard by, and two rifle-shots fol- 
 lowed each other in rapid succession. One of the 
 beasts dropped dead, and another, with a broken limb, 
 hobbled off howling into the woods. Two men then 
 pushed through the bushes with a shout, which ma- 
 noeuvre, accompanied with the fresh destruction from 
 a new and unsuspected enemy, decided the wolves to 
 give up the game. The younger beasts scampered in 
 all quarters, while the veterans withdrew in a sullen 
 trot, occasionally turning for a moment, but resuming 
 their retreat before the ready rifles that were instantly 
 leveled at the loiterers, till not one remained in sight. 
 One of the new-comers was Sam Shirk ; the other, a 
 tall and active backwoodsman, well known to all in 
 the neighborhood as Joe Sibley. The besieged party 
 came down from their fortress, and greeted their op- 
 portune allies. 
 
 " "Well," said Sibley, " I should judge you'd had a 
 considerable tall wolf-fight, by the looks o' things here- 
 abouts. Sam and I was out, about two miles above, 
 and heerd a regular cannonading, as if 'twas Fourth o' 
 July. So, arter a while, we concluded to come and 
 see what was to pay." 
 
 " I am glad it happened so," replied Butler, " for 
 we stood a good chance of passing the night up yon- 
 der." 
 
 " What made these chaps so darned saacy ? They 
 must have been terrible sharp-set to stand two hours 
 before three good shots like you. But they're allers 
 saacier when there's so many on 'em together. Your 
 dog, too, made 'em wus. They'll allers hang on wus, 
 where there's any brute critters they think they can 
 get at than where there's nothin' but men. By Gosh ! 
 four, five, six, eight, twelve, sixteen carcasses, besides 
 12
 
 178 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 the one I jest shot, and no partickler quantity that 
 they've eat up among themselves. Pretty fair work, 
 you an't been slow, that's a fact." 
 
 While Joe was discussing the case, Sam had set to 
 work to skin such of the animals as had not been de- 
 voured by their comrades. Marquis, who was an old 
 acquaintance, kept in close attendance upon him, smell- 
 ing and nuzzling the warm flesh, as Shirk's ready 
 knife exposed it to view, and starting back now and 
 then, with a half-frightened bark, when a sudden roll 
 or motion of a limb recalled to his memory the fearful 
 activity of his living antagonists. This economical pro- 
 ceeding, which occupied his practiced hand but a short 
 time, being finished, he threw down the skins before 
 Captain Dee. 
 
 " There, Captain, that yellerish one is the hide of 
 the critter Joe killed. The rest is your'n, unless 
 you'll give me one ; for I want a wolf-skin bad. I've 
 been a tryin' to shoot one all day." 
 
 " You may have 'em all, Sam, unless the boys here 
 want them." 
 
 Butler and William waved their claims, and Sam 
 joyfully bundled up the best of them, and, tying them 
 round with a cord, placed them over his shoulder, on 
 the end of his rifle. Two or three long tails, dangling 
 down his back, gave to his figure an odd and comical 
 appearance ; and Marquis could not restrain himself 
 from jumping up, every five minutes, to worry at his 
 supernumerary caudal appendages. Joe Sibley threw 
 the saddle and haunches of William's deer over his 
 broad shoulders ; and all started to leave the spot. 
 
 " Well, where are we bound, James ? " said the 
 Captain. " We can't very well get home to night. 
 It's sunset already."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 179 
 
 ** No, no, come along to my house. 'Tan't more 
 than three mile. We can give ye all sumthin' to eat ; 
 and, if ye can't do no better, some of ye, it'll be as 
 good to sleep on the hay, as out door." 
 
 Joe's invitation was accepted with as little ceremony 
 as it Avas given. The sun had set, and dimness had 
 gradually crept in among the tall trees of the dense 
 forest, when a patch of brighter atmosphere gradually 
 opened upon them, hovering over a cleared field sur- 
 rounded by a rough hedge of felled trees and bushes, 
 and stretching out widely in front of them. Passing 
 through a gap, the proprietor led the way towards a 
 bright light, twinkling out upon the gray evening and 
 the black shadow of the forest, like a star through a 
 heavy cloud. The light shone through a little square 
 window of Sibley's log-house ; and the travellers were 
 soon enjoying the welcome warmth of the glowing fire 
 that was roaring up the rough stone chimney.
 
 180 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 JOE SIBLEY'S dwelling was of the construction ordi- 
 narily fonnd upon the frontiers of civilization. Its 
 walls consisted of logs, laid up in successive tiers and 
 notched into each other at the intersection of the cor- 
 ners. The interstices being closely packed with moss 
 and clay, made a snug habitation, that defied effectu- 
 ally even the keen cold of winter. Two square open- 
 ings in the sides of each of the two rooms, into which 
 the interior was divided, were filled by sashes of four 
 panes of glass each. The roof was composed of sheets 
 of hemlock bark, laid carefully and closely over the 
 rafters ; and from its centre peeped forth a chimney, 
 built of small sticks laid up in " Harry house " fashion, 
 and plastered within and without with clay. The base 
 of this structure stood before the eye as one entered, 
 but constructed of flat stones neatly laid up ; and the 
 hearths were of the same material. Floors, partitions 
 and shelves, of rough boards indifferently well put 
 together, completed the inside finish ; while a ladder, 
 that ran up alongside the chimney through the floor 
 overhead, served as staircase to the sleeping apart- 
 ments in the roof. The door revolved on hinges, and 
 closed with a latch of hard wood ; the latter being of 
 that primitive construction described to little Red Rid- 
 ing-hood, " If you pull at the bobbin, the latch will 
 fly up." The hands of the owner were aided by no
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 181 
 
 mechanical appliances but the saw, the axe, the auger, 
 and ajackknife in the raising of the dwelling; and so 
 ingeniously simple were the contrivances resorted to 
 for accomplishing the usual functions of its various 
 parts, that a very trifling sum would cover the cost 
 of all the " boughten " materials employed. Indeed, 
 except the nails used in the interior and the few panes 
 of glass in the sashes, there were no traces of the 
 multiform, convenient and labor-saving productions 
 of the workshop or manufactory. Bolts, locks, and 
 springs there were none ; and, as we have said, the 
 latches and hinges grew in the forest. Paint, paper, 
 and even plastering were luxuries easily dispensed 
 with. But here and there the coarse partition was 
 concealed by a bill of huge dimensions, displaying 
 astounding portraits of the animals contained in the 
 cages of a travelling menagerie. Here the elephant, 
 lion, and rhinoceros, with a host of lesser wonders, 
 attended by Dandy Jack and his pony, exhibited their 
 uncouth figures, to instruct and amuse the young dwell- 
 ers in the woods. Ever and anon, the shingles or 
 sheets of birch-bark that were patched upon the logs, 
 shone out in the splendor of gamboge and vermilion, 
 liberally spread upon the surface of a print of Wash- 
 ington or Marlborough, or some ideal female beauty, 
 that, by some odd chance, had found their way from 
 the print-shops of London or Paris into the wilderness. 
 A cupboard and row of shelves, containing a small 
 assortment of the usual table-ware, sufficed for that 
 department of the household arrangements. A small 
 looking-glass against the wall lent its services to the 
 females of the family, and enabled the rougher sex to 
 reduce their chins, each Sunday morning, to the con- 
 dition prescribed by modern taste. Here and there
 
 182 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 hung upon a nail various small matters of family or 
 personal use or fancy. A birchen basket, shaped like 
 a cartridge-box, hanging by its open lid, would be 
 found, on inspection, to contain a comb, a head-brush, 
 a pin-cushion, and a pair of scissors, perchance a razor 
 and its strop. Another similar box, also in convenient 
 proximity to the mirror, would furnish forth, on festive 
 occasions or upon the Sabbath, sundry strings of beads, 
 a somewhat faded feather, or a bunch of artificial 
 flowers. Two or three chests, containing apparel or 
 tools, were ranged on the sides of the rooms, the tops 
 of which officiated as " chaises longues," while their 
 capacious interiors served to hold a goodly store of 
 useful articles in safety. 
 
 In one corner, a huge, square chair stood against the 
 wall, that seemed made for the accommodation of some 
 Patagonian. But the ample surface, which, hinged 
 upon the arms, rose up behind, told the curious inquirer 
 that three times a day it was let down upon those 
 rectangular arms, to spread the family repast. In fact, 
 it was the rude and humble prototype of that well- 
 known piece of furniture, which, the chair portion re- 
 fined away and the material changed, occupied the 
 corners of our grandmothers' parlors in all the gloss 
 and sombre dignity of mahogany. Now, retreating 
 before modern innovation, they are fallen from parlor 
 and drawing-room to the humbler apartments, where 
 their unobtrusive and room-economizing usefulness is 
 still appreciated. 
 
 Alas for the fast-vanishing simplicity of our fathers ! 
 We are fallen off sadly from the republican plainness 
 of the days of cocked hats, knee-breeches, and vener- 
 able pig-tails. Profusion and extravagance are mak- 
 ing advances among us beyond the line of prudence 
 and the true limits of our social circumstances. And
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 183 
 
 yet, ye cynics of economy, it may not be well alto- 
 gether to weigh the tastes and preferences that best 
 distinguish us from the brutes, too severely against 
 mere dollars and cents. It would not be well that we 
 should not know, or should not care for, the difference 
 between the tub of Diogenes and the Tusculan villa of 
 
 O 
 
 Cicero. Shall we, like the hog, provided we get our 
 dinner, be indifferent as to what trough holds it ? Who 
 would not, provided he could afford it, and this pro- 
 viso is, we confess, more important than many seem to 
 think it, spend a superfluous hundred, to dine from a 
 table that Praxiteles might have designed or Alcibiades 
 feasted at? The gentle pleasures of the eye, as it 
 drinks in grace and beauty at every glance, are worth 
 time and money and reverence too. It is better, im- 
 measurably better, to see your young wife bending 
 over her sleeping treasure, not esconced in a candle- 
 box on rockers, but nestled, like Cupid, in a lotus- 
 leaf so nicely balanced that Psyche's breath might 
 give it motion. 
 
 We should not forget that the virtues of prudence 
 and economy, for that they are virtues, and of primary 
 importance too, many a penniless prodigal can substan- 
 tiate by a negative pregnant, are not ends, but means. 
 They are not our only desirable bosom-friends and 
 fireside cronies, because they are faithful drudges in 
 the counting-house and invaluable prompters upon 
 'change. The wreath of Taste and Genius adds beauty 
 to the column, whose strength it does not impair so 
 long as it is the clustering garland of the trained flower. 
 It is noxious when, like the misletoe and the ivy, it 
 finds its support in the bosom of incipient decay. 
 Deep and generous is the philosophy of the Frenchman, 
 " The love of the beautiful is the virtue of the in- 
 tellect."
 
 184 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " I'VE brought some folks to stop over night, Lid- 
 dy," said Joe Sibley to his wife, while the party were 
 laying aside their guns and other incumbrances. 
 
 " So I see 'tan't often you don't," replied his 
 spouse, apparently a little pettish at the prospect of 
 additional trouble to herself, involved in the fact an- 
 nounced. 
 
 No inhospitable reluctance, however, was implied 
 in the good woman's speech. The guests, who well 
 knew the character both of host and hostess, only 
 smiled at the peevish sally, while they disposed them- 
 selves comfortably about the room. Mrs. Sibley, after 
 a brief salutation to all, applied herself without an- 
 other word to her appropriate duties, put a huge 
 supply of potatoes into the big iron pot, sliced up a 
 piece of fat salted pork into the frying pan, and while 
 the potatoes danced and bubbled, and the pork sput- 
 tered and curled over the fire, went to her bread-pan, 
 and commenced moulding the little biscuits to be 
 baked in the tin baker before the bright blaze. Mean- 
 while her eldest daughter, who probably had, at the 
 age of twelve, more practical skill in housewifery than 
 most city dames ever attain, spread the table and set 
 the best tea-pot on the hearth, in readiness to receive 
 its fragrant infusion. 
 
 It was not altogether without reason that the mis-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 185 
 
 tress of the house had commented upon her husband's 
 hospitality. In the early settlements of all countries, 
 as among barbarous peoples, hospitality is, from the 
 very necessity of the case, a prominent virtue. All 
 grant without hesitation, and almost without a thought 
 of conferring favor, what all must, at times, be com- 
 pelled to ask, to secure comfort, or even not uncom- 
 monly to preserve existence. But the universal and 
 matter-of-course free quarters of rude and straggling 
 communities were extended to an unusual compass 
 with Sibley. In the first place, he was a frank, cor- 
 dial, and warm-hearted man by nature, careless and 
 improvident withal in his temperament. Shrewd, en- 
 ergetic, and full of expedients, he always managed, 
 somehow or other, to supply his immediate wants, 
 and seldom troubled himself about economizing re- 
 sources on hand. Whatever there might be in the 
 flour-barrel, molasses keg, or box of tea and sugar, 
 whether more or less, was at the service of any who 
 wanted ; and, although patient and steady industry 
 was by no means his forte, the master of the house 
 was seldom at a loss for means of renewing the stock. 
 Joe was one of the wandering and restless men so 
 common in the backwoods. He spent nine tenths of 
 his time in hunting or in various speculative excursions 
 about the neighborhood. 
 
 Twenty miles of a rough and tangled horse-path, 
 bristling with stumps and stones and interspersed with 
 sloughs, crossed by bridgeless brooks and swamps, lay 
 between his house and the village at the falls near the 
 river's mouth. Yet seldom did a week pass over his 
 head without a visit to Merrifield. The toilsome jour- 
 ney was an insignificant trifle to his robust and act- 
 ive limbs ; and his busy mind was always provided
 
 186 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with some excuse, more or less tangible, for the expe- 
 dition. Nor did Merrifield bound the sphere of his 
 operations. In all the little hamlets of the neighbor- 
 ing regions, everybody knew Joe Sibley ; and every- 
 body liked him for his careless good nature, and be- 
 cause he was always ready to enter into any new 
 scheme or to make a trade. No man, in all those 
 parts, bought, sold, or swapped horses, cattle, logs, or 
 lesser articles of commerce, half so often as Joe. He 
 generally made a good bargain for himself; yet he was 
 honest and fair in his dealings. We must, however, 
 make one exception to his morality. He was not al- 
 ways up to his word. Good-natured and lazy, he 
 never liked to say No, but was apt to promise any- 
 thing that was asked, and perform his promise or not, 
 as might prove convenient. Always disposed to traffic 
 out of all proportion to his capital, he was far from 
 prompt, sometimes, in his payments. But lie always 
 contrived, in the long run, to "turn something or 
 other," as he phrased it, so as to meet his obligations. 
 He seldom had a cent of money ; but he could scarcely 
 meet a man with whom he had not some running ac- 
 count or unfinished transaction, out of which he could 
 make resources for his immediate purposes. In fact, 
 Joe's various operations, big and little, constituted no 
 small part of the circulating medium of the trade of 
 the valley. Not implicitly reliable, but pretty sure to 
 come out right side up, sooner or later, his credit was 
 not first-rate, yet everybody was willing to risk a trade 
 with him ; and Joe always wanted to buy or do some- 
 thing, that made a vent for almost any commodity and 
 an opportunity for every possible arrangement. He 
 was the very impersonation of barter, and the channel 
 through which an endless series of exchanges and petty
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 187 
 
 contracts found their completion. His business habits 
 were of so desultory a stamp, and his processes so 
 multiform and loose, that it would have been a mira- 
 cle, with anybody else, that half of them should be 
 brought to any conclusion. Yet, though he could not 
 write, beyond signing his name, nor read manuscript 
 with any facility, he managed, by an inexhaustible 
 activity and with the help of a tenacious memoiy, 
 strengthened by perpetual exercise, to keep along his 
 numberless matters and preserve the run of his ac- 
 counts with his neighbors. He drove over the rude 
 roads when not on horseback or on foot in some 
 old wagon that threatened continually instant disso- 
 lution of its component parts, and every day or two 
 with a new horse, and every week or two, a new, old 
 harness. His locomotive arrangements were, like his 
 jangling and disorderly system of business, appalling 
 and useless to anybody else, but just suited to him. 
 He " worried along " to use his own language 
 with both of them, after his own peculiar fashion. If 
 his carriage broke down or his business got cramped 
 occasionally, it only served to call out some extra in- 
 genuity or queer contrivance to meet the temporary 
 emergency. Thus he always devised means, not only 
 " to make one hand wash t'other," in the main, but 
 to keep at his command a far greater variety and ex- 
 tent of resources than his more methodical neighbors. 
 One result of his habits and character was, that all the 
 loose odds and ends of the vicinity, animate or inan- 
 imate, were generally hanging about him. Every 
 shiftless, houseless vagabond came, as a last resource, 
 to Sibley. His good nature housed and fed them-, in 
 their hour of want ; while his shrewdness got out of 
 them remuneration by setting them about the jobs
 
 188 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 which he lacked leisure or industry to attend to 
 himself. Thus there were generally two or three 
 stragglers hanging around his premises, who, for their 
 board and lodging, or such hap-hazard compensation 
 as was convenient for him to make, took care of his 
 homestead, as far as it was cared for at all, and left him 
 at liberty to hunt, trade, or loaf about at pleasure. 
 The shiftlessness of these dependents was more in har- 
 mony with his modes of arrangement, or rather his 
 want of arrangement, than conducive to the comfort 
 and regularity of his household. His wife, who was a 
 tidy and thrifty woman, often looked askance at the 
 tatterdemalion crew with which her husband sur- 
 rounded their home. But, conscious that remedy 
 there was none, she never made any more serious re- 
 monstrances than that with which she had greeted his 
 return at this time ; and the fretfulness of the remark 
 was doubtless induced more by general considerations 
 than any want of welcome for her present guests. 
 With quiet and practiced celerity, for she was used 
 to such demands upon her diligence, at all hours and 
 seasons, she prepared a neat, but simple repast. 
 When all was in order, she lighted a dipped tallow 
 candle, which she placed upon the table, and an- 
 nounced that "tea was ready." 
 
 The meal was dispatched with the appetite which 
 exercise in the open air alone can afford. The table 
 was drawn back upon one side, where the good house- 
 wife busied herself in clearing up. The candle was 
 blown out ; for such artificial light was here used only 
 for special occasions, the ruddy blaze from the broad 
 hearth affording abundant illumination for the ordinary 
 occupations of the evening. Captain Dee, Sibley, and 
 Shirk produced their pipes and tobacco ; and conver- 
 sation and rest became the amusements of the hour.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 189 
 
 " Well, Captain," said their host, " your scrape 
 with the wolves out yonder puts me in mind of a time 
 I once had myself with a thunderin' bear, down here 
 on the meadows." 
 
 " Let's have the story, Joe, by all means." 
 " Well, ye see I started one day afoot to go down 
 to the village ; and jest over Great Falls' branch 
 down in that 'ere meadow to the right of the track, I 
 see a burstin' great bear. I hadn't no gun with me, 
 but I thought I might have some fun ; so I crept down 
 among the bushes and worked along till I got close on 
 to him ; and then I jumped out and hollered. I ex- 
 pected to skeer him, of course ; for, you know, a bear 
 '11 most always run. But, instid o' that, the crittur 
 faced round, and begun to show fight, and growled like 
 destruction. Just then, too, I see two cubs skulking 
 into the bushes ; and then I knowed right well 'twas 
 an old she one ; and that I'd got a customer. I felt 
 in my pockets for my jack-knife, but it warn't there. 
 I couldn't see a stick nowhere. There wasn't nothin' 
 round but a parcel of darned alder bushes. So I 
 begun to think I'd been a pretty considerable fool to 
 get into sech a fix. But she didn't give me much 
 time to think about it at all ; for she came right at me 
 
 9 O 
 
 and ris up on her hind legs for a hug. But, says I to 
 myself, that won't do, marm, it's too friendly by a 
 
 d d sight. So, ye see, as I hadn't nothin' to fight 
 
 with, I had to run. I backed out through the bushes, 
 till I was lucky enough to come to a small birch that 
 run up about ten foot, without a limb. When I got 
 it jest to my back, she was follerin' close onto me. I 
 kept my face to her all along ; and when I got to the 
 tree, I off with my cap and threw it right at her eyes. 
 She ris up agin, straight away ; and as soon as I saw
 
 190 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 her up on eend, I turned round and jumped for the 
 branches. I jest got where I could catch hold and 
 swing myself up, when down she came, and at the 
 tree, like possessed. She was as mad as the devil to see 
 me out o' reach, and she sot out to come arter me and 
 grappled the birch, but it was so small she couldn't 
 grip it. All she could do was to stick her claws into 
 the bark and histe up on her hind legs. Just as 
 soon as she drew up to climb, her claws would give 
 out, and down she'd go. It wan't very comfortable, 
 though, to sit there within less than a foot of her ugly 
 muzzle, you may depend. Now, ye see, I had my dog 
 with me, a little bit of a feller, not half so big as 
 your Marquis there. The little chap was good stuff, 
 though ; and he'd been havin' a time among; the cubs, 
 
 O O 3 
 
 while the old one and I was dodgin' round. Jest as 
 soon as he see I was tree'd, and the tarnal old beast 
 was tryin' to get at me, he pitched into her like smoke, 
 and set his teeth in her haunches right smart ; for he 
 was a terrible sharp-bitten feller. He warn't big 
 enough to do her no harm, to speak of; but I guess 
 he made her smart some, for she'd tumble down quick- 
 er'n lightnin', and arter him. Away they'd go, dog, 
 bear, and cubs, through the grass and bushes, grunt- 
 in', growlin', and barkin', till the old devil would find 
 out she couldn't catch him ; and then she'd come back 
 to look arter me. Spring laid off a piece and kept 
 still then, till she'd get savage agin and try to git up 
 the tree. But jest as fast as she started up, he let in ; 
 and she wouldn't be fairly on eend before he'd have 
 her by the tail. So we kept it up above half an hour ; 
 and I begun to think the old crittur would a' kept me 
 there all day. But I happened to think that, if I sent 
 Spring off, she might get tired and give it up. So I
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 191 
 
 hollered at him, and he poked off among the brush, 
 out o' sight. In about a quarter of an hour more, the 
 old sarpent made up her mind she couldn't come it ; 
 and, arter givin' me a handsome growl or two, by way 
 of sayin' ' good-mornin',' she started and looked 
 up her cubs and cleared out. Arter she was out o' 
 sight, I got down, and Spring and I went along. I 
 made up my mind that mornin' I'd never play with 
 them critturs any more, specially when I hadn't got 
 no gun." 
 
 " You were worse off than we were with the wolves 
 to-day, Joe," said Butler, after the peals of laughter 
 that followed Sibley's story had subsided. 
 
 "Wasn't I? If I'd had a gun, I wouldn't have 
 vallied her at all. But, as it was, I wished she was 
 furder. I hardly ever knowed a bear, though, to tackle 
 anybody. Jem Succobash, the Indian, was out jest 
 above here one day, and a comin' along home towards 
 night, when a great old bear jumped out of a bush on 
 him, and tore his shoulder awful bad. It was jest 
 about dusk, and I suppose Jem was goin' along tired 
 and keerless, or he'd seen him sooner. A lot of us 
 went out arter him next day, and killed him. He had 
 a great cut in his breast, where Jem knifed him ; but 
 he made a stout fight, and killed one of our dogs, for 
 all that. I got six or seven gallons of oil out of him." 
 
 " Do the wolves trouble you much out here, Joe ? " 
 
 "Not much. They make a tarnal howlin' some- 
 times o' nights, round the house. I can't keep sheep, 
 for 'em. I tried it a spell, but it wan't no use. They 
 got more mutton than I did. They'll dog a feller that's 
 out alone arter dark, sometimes ; but they never med- 
 dled with me in the day-time." 
 
 The evening was worn away in the discussion of
 
 192 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 these and similar topics, and a general stir preluded 
 preparations for sleep. Mrs. Sibley announced that 
 she had made such arrangements as she could, in the 
 other room of the house, for Captain Dee, William, and 
 Butler. Sam Shirk made himself a bed, which he con- 
 sidered luxurious, out of his wolf-skins ; and silence and 
 slumber soon pervaded the dwelling.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE morning dawned as clear and brilliant as the 
 preceding ; and the household of Sibley were afoot 
 with the first peep of day. The sun had not yet risen 
 when Dee, accompanied by James and William, with a 
 clean towel upon his arm, took his way to a fine, clear 
 spring that bubbled up in the field hard by the house, 
 to make their simple toilet. A copious ablution in the 
 pure, cold water sufficed for all purposes of health and 
 comfort. Sibley's farm was upon the top of one of 
 those hard-wood ridges, so commonly chosen by the 
 early settlers. As they stood bareheaded in the fresh 
 morning, their eyes were irresistibly attracted by the 
 magnificent landscape before them ; although it was 
 perfectly familiar to them all. 
 
 Their position was high enough to command a large 
 extent of country in all directions. In the early light, 
 a dim, grayish-green tint, with heavy shadows of the 
 deepest gloom, still hung over the wooded hollows. 
 The eastern sides of the long swells were defined in the 
 full dark green of the northern forests ; while the sum- 
 mits of the hills and mountains and the prominent tops 
 of lofty trees glowed with the distinctest hues of day, 
 and sparkled with the earliest rays of the sun, yet in- 
 visible through the dense growth that skirted the hori- 
 zon. Damp, black shadows slumbered on the western 
 sides of the hills ; the light dews were floating up, in 
 13
 
 194 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 slender threads, from the valleys ; and the sharp-cut 
 belt of woods around the limits of the clearing rose 
 like a girdling wall about them, with night and darkness 
 hanging in its leafy recesses on one side, while the 
 other half of the circuit was lighting up with momen- 
 tarily increasing day. Behind them, the high ridge of 
 Pleasant Mountain still buried in shadow the long 
 slopes that stretched up to its summit ; while the bald 
 ledge, which formed its sterile crown, glimmered in the 
 upward-slanting sunlight, and each dwarfed birch and 
 stunted spruce was penciled clearly against the sky. 
 On their left, the gradually descending land-fall sloped 
 away southward, till, beyond the limit of distinct vision, 
 the bosom of the ocean reflected the rays of the sun 
 just streaming over its surface, in a blaze of gold. In 
 front of them, a series of rugged and lofty hills, girdled 
 each with a distinct line, where the evergreen trees 
 yielded up the bleak summits to their tougher brethren 
 of the hard-wood tribes, rose at various distances, cut- 
 ting off in irregular succession the vistas across the 
 lower grounds, till they formed a continuous blue bar- 
 rier along the valley of the broad Penobscot. On the 
 right, opened the narrow pathway of the swift Narra- 
 guagus ; the twin summits of Humpback Mountain, 
 looming up lonely sentinels on its farther verge, about 
 two miles from where they stood, while the gradually 
 sloping descents that trended northward from its lofty 
 pinnacles and from the somewhat lower brow of Pleas- 
 ant Mountain, guarded a long opening into the heart 
 of the wilderness ; until the blue distance finally melted 
 into the dim outlines of Katahdin on the one side, and 
 the Schoodic highlands on the other. 
 
 " By the Heaven that made us and all this glorious 
 world, what a prospect for a man's eye to open upon 
 every morning ! " burst forth Dee.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 195 
 
 " Yes, indeed, it is a scene to stir one's inmost soul, 
 Captain. Yet I am afraid it would lose much of its 
 power over us, if we saw it every day. Our friend 
 Joe there never looks at it, but to pick out the best 
 glades of timber or guess at the most promising hunt- 
 ing-grounds. This very minute he is thinking of 
 nothing but his breakfast, I'll bet my rifle to a popgun." 
 
 " I dare say. But isn't it strange, James, that a 
 man can live among such scenery, and never get an 
 idea or experience a feeling that might not spring up 
 as well in a potato-field ? " 
 
 " It is incomprehensible, yet I believe that the greater 
 portion of the world, even of its educated classes, pay 
 very little attention to the wonders of Nature, either 
 in the magnificence of its extent or the beauties of its 
 detail. They go through life with their hearts shut to 
 all these things, and know hardly more what is about 
 them than a blind man." 
 
 " True enough. I believe God means that a con- 
 siderable portion of our happiness should consist in the 
 admiration and enjoyment of the outward world. 
 Else, why is it so grand, so beautiful, and so endlessly 
 various to boot ? It makes me downright angry to 
 find a man never thinking of the glorious sky, except 
 to know whether it is hot or cold, or if he wants to 
 take his umbrella out with him or not. Then, if you 
 do find one who calls himself a lover of Nature, he 
 
 often does nothing but hunt up some d d ugly bug 
 
 to skewer into a box with a pin. He don't care a cop- 
 per for the most beautiful flower he sees, if anybody has 
 ever seen it before him. If it is something new, and 
 he can make up a name for it, and immortalize his own 
 in a dandelion Smithii, or a skunk-cabbage Brown- 
 iensis, he's in raptures."
 
 196 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " You are severe upon the scientific men, Captain,'' 
 said Butler, laughing. 
 
 " Well, all those things may be right enough, but I 
 thank God I an't scientific. I don't want to see 
 everything through a microscope, or enjoy myself by 
 learned systems. These things must be done by some- 
 body, I suppose. But to my fancy, it's disgusting and 
 contemptible to measure this splendid creation by 
 foot-rules, or weigh it in scales." 
 
 "Father," interrupted William, " Mrs. Sibley wants 
 us in to breakfast. I see the towel hung out at the 
 window." 
 
 " Well, we'll go in then, Bill. But I could spend 
 an hour here to my perfect satisfaction." 
 
 They then returned to the house. William Dee 
 had been vainly endeavoring to coax his curly locks 
 into order with his fingers. But after many attempts, 
 he found, on inspection in the bit of broken looking- 
 glass fastened to the wall, that his success had been 
 very indifferent. So he decided, after some hesita- 
 tion, to inquire what the resources of the house could 
 supply to meet the difficulty. The little barefooted 
 damsel ransacked in vain a sort of flat birchen bas- 
 ket that hung beneath another bit of mirror. Her 
 mother, ascertaining the object of the search, thus 
 accounted for the absence of the article : 
 
 "La! Mr. William, I'm dreadful sorry; but our 
 comb an't to home. I lent it to Miss Henchfield 
 yesterday." 
 
 William made no reply but a smiling nod; and 
 thinking, on the whole, that such a peripatetic utensil 
 might as well be done without, sat down to his break- 
 fast as he was. 
 
 During the meal, Sibley proposed an excursion into 
 the woods for the day.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 197 
 
 " You an't had much of a chance yet ; you'd better 
 stop over a spell. I set a bear-trap yesterday for an 
 old feller that's been plaguin' me round the barn 
 lately ; and I think it's full likely he's catched by this 
 time." 
 
 " What do you, say James? " said Dee. " William 
 and I have nobody to think of but ourselves. I don't 
 believe your mother will be troubled at our stay. She 
 knows that a man can't tell just when he'll get back, 
 when he's once in the woods." 
 
 "No, I don't think mother '11 fret. I should like 
 to try luck a little further. I've shot nothing yet, 
 but those ragamuffin wolves." 
 
 " Then we'll go with Joe and Sam. You'll vote 
 that way, I know, William. Where's your trap, 
 Joe?" * 
 
 " Jest under old Humpback. I baited it jest as 
 nice as I knew how. I guess the old feller's found 
 it out by this time. If he's meddled with it, he's 
 catched, I'll bet a dollar." 
 
 The party consequently took their guns and pro- 
 ceeded through the clearing, down the western slope 
 of the ridge, towards the river. Half a mile of walk- 
 ing brought them to the little valley through which 
 ran the stream, here about forty or fifty yards wide. 
 The descent of the water, in this hilly region, was 
 rapid and continuous, and the river in this dry season 
 was easily fordable, being seldom more than a foot in 
 depth ; while all the stones, of any considerable size, 
 projected above or very near the surface. Picking 
 their way across its bed, they ascended the rounded 
 bank on the farther side, and entered the forest. 
 
 " Now let's go along quiet," said Joe. " If the old 
 feller an't in the trap, we may come across him in the 
 woods."
 
 198 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 The breeze had not yet risen ; and not a sound was 
 to be heard, except now and then a wood-mouse or 
 squirrel scampering away over the leaves, or a wood- 
 pecker hammering at a hollow tree. It was necessary 
 to move with extreme caution and slowly, that some 
 unlucky step might not betray their approach, by the 
 rustling of a bush or the rattling of a fallen branch. 
 After a mile or more of this silent progress, Joe Sibley, 
 who led the way, turned and said in a low voice, 
 
 " The trap's jest over this hill, right down in the 
 holler. If we creep up behind that bunch of fir bushes, 
 we can see it." 
 
 Accordingly the party moved up the side of a little 
 rounded hillock, taking care, as they approached the 
 summit, to keep themselves behind the thicket. Hav- 
 ing all reached the spot, they sat down upon the ground ; 
 while Joe carefully peered round to find a loop-hole 
 through which he could see beyond their leafy screen. 
 After a moment's observation, he whispered, 
 
 " He's there, but I can't make out yet what kind of 
 fix he's in. I calculated it to break his back for him ; 
 but he's alive, for I see him move. Come here, Butler, 
 and see what you make of it." 
 
 James and Sibley now contrived, both of them, to 
 get a peep through the tops of the young evergreens ; 
 Shirk also wriggled himself into the covert, till he 
 could obtain a glimpse through the stiff, interlaced 
 boughs. Their joint reconnoitring soon ascertained 
 the exact position of things. 
 
 Just where the slope of the hill met the edges of a 
 cedar swamp, three large white-pine trees grew close 
 together, forming an irregular triangle ; so that some 
 stout branches, piled up and intertwined between them, 
 made a hollow cell of three or four feet across, the two
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 199 
 
 foremost trees forming the entrance posts. In front 
 of these, a large log was laid upon the ground trans- 
 versely ; and above it another heavy stick was sus- 
 pended at one end in the air, by the contrivance called 
 by hunters, from its shape, a figure four. Sibley had 
 then chopped several trees into lengths of about ten 
 feet, and laid them up, by means of lateral props, into 
 walls upon each side of the trap, disposed in the front 
 of the recess, and covered the top partially ; so that the 
 bait upon the projecting tongue of the trap could be 
 approached only from the front of the barricade. A 
 pull upon the bait was calculated to disturb the support 
 of the sliding log, so as to bring it down upon the neck 
 of the intermeddler. It appeared that Bruin had en- 
 tered the trap and attacked the bait. But, by some 
 chance, the falling log had failed to break his neck, and 
 he had even extricated his head ; but one fore-paw was 
 firmly jammed between the logs, beyond his power to 
 extricate it. The powerful brute had thrown down 
 one side of the pen, and dislodged the sticks that covered 
 it, in his struggles to free himself. He was now seen 
 lying down on the ground, from which he half rose up, 
 every few minutes, endeavoring to pull out his impris- 
 oned foot, and growling savagely with pain and impa- 
 tience. 
 
 " He's a master big one," whispered Sibley ; " if he 
 should get clear, he'd give us a time. He'll try his 
 best when he sees us. I'll give him a shot before we 
 show ourselves. Keep your dog still, William. That 
 critter '11 use him up with one clip, if he meddles with 
 him." 
 
 Marquis, having learned prudence perhaps in his 
 rencounter with the wolves, lay down quietly, at his 
 master's command. But the chafing of his excited
 
 200 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 spirit was vented by a subdued whine as he looked up 
 submissive to the uplifted finger. Whether it were the 
 dog's whine, or the click of Sibley's rifle, as he cocked 
 and aimed it, the bear now evidently suspected the 
 neighborhood of enemies. Just as Joe aimed behind 
 his ear, he jerked himself upward in a renewed attempt 
 at escape. The ball, grazing some inches below the 
 vulnerable spot where it was meant to strike, cut a 
 flesh-wound in his shoulder and throat, which served 
 to irritate much more than to disable him. He now 
 made gigantic efforts to free himself, wallowing and 
 twisting from side to side, while the pain inflicted by 
 his own motions upon the confined limb made him 
 groan and growl furiously. His tongue hung out from 
 his mouth with his agony and exhaustion, while his 
 gnashing teeth and rolling eyes proclaimed his rage 
 and terror most fearfully. His exertions grew to be so 
 violent, that Sibley, throwing aside all idea of further 
 concealment, shouted aloud, " Let him have it, Butler, 
 right behind his ear, if you can." 
 
 Butler instantly fired ; but such were the fierce con- 
 tortions and struggles of the desperate animal, that he 
 was hardly more successful. The bear dropped his 
 head and rounded up his back as the gun flashed, and 
 the ball lodging against his ribs, instead of reaching the 
 more vital part, only added afresh to his rage and ter- 
 ror. He seized the log that lay across his foot furi- 
 ously with his teeth, and succeeded in raising it, for an 
 instant, so that a simultaneous jerk effected the re- 
 lease of his paw, though broken at the ankle and sorely 
 bruised. After licking -once or twice his mangled 
 limb, he turned his head over his shoulder, to gaze a 
 moment at his assailants, who had now risen into full 
 view from behind the bushes. Then he backed out of
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 201 
 
 the half-ruined trap with a loud growl, and dashed up 
 the hill at them, with all the speed his disabled state 
 allowed. 
 
 " Take behind the trees ! " shouted Joe, and at his 
 suggestion, each stepped, for cover, to the nearest 
 trunk. But, by this time, the furious beast had reached 
 the broAv of the hillock and pushed through the low 
 girdle of fir trees. All had found shelter when he 
 appeared among them, except Captain Dee, who, less 
 active than his younger companions, unfortunately 
 caught his foot, and fell prostrate, directly in the path 
 of the animal, and not a rod from him. His danger 
 was imminent. The enormous brute rushed, with 
 glaring eyes and gnashing teeth, directly upon him. 
 But Marquis saw him fall, and sprang, with one ring- 
 ing bark and a volley of growls, to his head, where he 
 stood, with tail erect and bristling back, in defense of 
 his helpless patron. Regardless of such puny opposi- 
 tion, the bear never checked his career for a moment, 
 but raised his paw to sweep his little antagonist from 
 before him. The gallant dog's fate would have been 
 sealed in an instant, but this manoeuvre compelled 
 Bruin to throw his weight upon the wounded limb, 
 which, failing under him, brought him to his knees. 
 Butler and William Dee rushed to the rescue, and 
 planted themselves by Marquis's side, who now sprang 
 upon the enemy, and seized him by the ear. James's 
 rifle had been discharged, and William was too agitated 
 to fire, but both stood with their guns raised for a blow. 
 The brute rose again to his feet, and shook off the dog 
 like a fly, jerking him several yards from him. But 
 meanwhile Sam Shirk fired his ball into his nearest 
 flank, and Joe Sibley advanced with leveled gun upon 
 the other side. The Captain scrambled up and escaped
 
 202 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 from his dangerous situation ; while his dreadful as- 
 sailant, confused by the attack from so many quarters, 
 turned partially upon the last comer, and finally raised 
 himself upon his hind legs, after the fashion of his kind, 
 to grapple with the first who should come within his 
 reach. But Joe's sharp eye was ranging along his rifle, 
 in a straight line with the opening of the ear turned 
 towards him by the last evolution. The flame blazed 
 from the muzzle almost into the eyes of the victim, and 
 the ball crashed into his brain. Falling heavily to the 
 ground, he died without a sound or a motion. Mar- 
 quis laid down about a yard from his muzzle, as if fear- 
 ful that the terrible foe might yet rouse again to the 
 assault ; nor did he cease to growl till Sibley and Shirk 
 laid their hands on the unresisting carcass. He then 
 ventured up to smell and examine more critically his 
 dreaded opponent. 
 
 " An't he a buster ? " cried Shirk. " Shall I skin 
 him, Joe ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; his hair is in excellent order, and his 
 hide has but three bullet-holes in it. We might have 
 riddled him like a sieve, though, if we hadn't touched 
 him in the right place. I've known an old chap like 
 him carry off more than twenty balls. They're tough 
 as a pine knot." 
 
 " He will weigh seven or eight hundred, won't he ? " 
 said Dee. " I have Heaven and Marquis to thank, that 
 he didn't finish me. Come here, boy, you're true as 
 steel, an't you ? " 
 
 Marquis expressed his satisfaction at results by all 
 canine demonstrations of joy, while William stood 
 by, silent, but with his eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Pooh, Bill, mustn't be a baby. Nobody can say 
 you didn't do a man's duty just now, anyhow. God 
 be thanked ! my son, all's right yet."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 2U3 
 
 Sam was meanwhile proceeding rapidly with his job 
 of " taking off the bear's jacket," as he quaintly 
 termed it, while the rest stood by, looking with inter- 
 est at its huge and sinewy frame. 
 
 u Yes, eight hundred, at least, he weighs," said 
 Butler. 
 
 "Full better than that," added Sibley. " He's fat 
 as a hocj. I will fetch the horse out and take the car- 
 
 O 
 
 cass in. I think a bear-steak's prime, myself. Be- 
 sides, he'll make oil enough for me to burn all win- 
 ter." 
 
 " All o' that, I'll guarantee," responded Shirk. 
 " I hain't skun a fatter one this ten year. Here, 
 Marquis, take this chunk o' meat for your luncheon. 
 Ye're prime stuff, what there is of ye. old feller. 
 I expected this chap would have laid you out straight 
 enough ; and so he would, if it hadn't been for this 
 broken flipper. Now I think we'd better turn to and 
 take a smoke." 
 
 Sam's proposition suited the mood of the party well, 
 after their excitement and fright. Captain Dee pro- 
 duced his tobacco-pouch and pipe, and, looking at 
 Marquis as he wagged his tail over his plentiful repast, 
 said to his son, whose eyes had again filled with tears 
 at Sam's allusion to the narrow escape of his father : 
 " You and I will remember Marquis's good service, 
 and not forget what is due in a higher quarter, either. 
 I didn't admire that old devil's physiognomy, so near 
 to mine, Joe. Those gentry are decidedly better 
 looking, farther off." 
 
 " Well, I thought so, when I sot in the tree look- 
 ing at that old she-one I told you of last night, Cap- 
 tain."
 
 204 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 AFTER half an hour spent in quiet chat, Sibley rose 
 to go for his horse. 
 
 " Butler, you ha'n't shot nary deer yet. Now, 
 d'ye see, if you'll jest go down to the little pond yon- 
 der, I'll bet you'll get a chance. It's growin' warm, 
 and they'll be wadin' into the water about noon. Sam, 
 suppose you finish dressing that bear ? I'll be back in 
 an hour at furderest ; and you may put his hide along 
 o' your wolf-skins, if you'll stay and keep the wolves 
 off till I come. The rest on 'em will have time to kill 
 a deer too ; and then we'll all go back and get some 
 dinner." 
 
 This plan suited all parties. Sam resumed his 
 butchering operations, with Marquis, whom his 
 young master had bidden to stay behind also, extended 
 at length upon the ground, watching his proceedings. 
 The deer-stalkers were fearful that his over-eager zeal 
 might spoil their sport at the pond. The Dees and 
 Butler walked quietly down through the woods, till 
 the broader glimpse of sky and fuller light warned 
 them that they were on the borders of the little lake. 
 They then crept along with extreme caution, till they 
 halted at last behind a thick clump of young cedars 
 on its margin. Here all three seated themselves, 
 where they could watch the shores through the open- 
 ings.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 205 
 
 The sunshine glittered upon the placid bosom of the 
 water, so thoroughly protected from the light breeze 
 by the girdle of tall woods and the hills that encircled 
 it, that not a ripple broke its bright mirror. The clear 
 autumnal sky and the light, fleecy clouds that floated 
 above were reflected with glowing accuracy upon its 
 surface. The deep shadows of the southern shores 
 and the broken lights of the opposite banks, where the 
 sunlight penetrated, here and there, the dark, eternal 
 gloom of the forest with its golden gleams, composed 
 a picture of matchless splendor and yet magic softness. 
 Alders and white cedars fringed the pebbled shore, and 
 cast cool, green shadows over the sparkling waters. 
 Tall pines and spruces crowned the more elevated 
 banks ; and clumps of firs relieved, at intervals, the 
 foreground of brown trunks, with their deep green 
 foliage. As the ground behind rose in swelling ridges, 
 gradually growing into hills, the lighter and more 
 graceful forms of hard-wood trees interwove themselves 
 with the pillared grandeur of the pines,' till all indi- 
 viduality was lost in an impervious ocean of verdure, 
 repeating high up in air the undulating outlines of the 
 ground with its canopy of leaves, as unbroken and 
 continuous apparently as the earth itself. 
 
 Upon the right and somewhat in advance of the spot 
 where the party lay in ambush, a deep cove circled into 
 the woods ; into the head of which, a little brook dis- 
 charged the waters that it gathered along the skirts of 
 the mountain and the contiguous hills. A colony of 
 beavers had dammed the mouth of the cove, taught 
 by their curious instinct to form a safe and commodious 
 basin for the erection of their island fortresses. But 
 the sagacious and timid animals had retired as is 
 their wont from the first intrusion of man for some
 
 206 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 more distant spot, yet free from disturbance and dan- 
 ger. The brook had gradually undermined the centre 
 of the structure thus left to the mercy of the elements 
 by its little architects ; and its disjointed wall, though 
 still traceable here and there across the mouth of the 
 inlet, no longer delayed the waters from their natural 
 level. The subsidence of the artificial inundation laid 
 bare again the little intervales which the earthy depos- 
 its of the stream for ages had been forming about its 
 mouth ; and they were already covered with a growth 
 of alders and young cedars, interspersed, now and 
 then, with an elm raising gracefully its feathery head 
 among the heavier and sharper outlines of the ever- 
 greens. The wings of the beaver-dam still bordered 
 the outer edges of the flats on either side, with a little 
 mound, like the wasted parapet of some aboriginal en- 
 trenchment. The shores of the lake beyond swept 
 away in easy curves, but jutting out occasionally into 
 sharp points, where some knoll, clad with tall pines, 
 threw its rounded base out into the water ; or where 
 a line of boulders, detached from a neighboring cliff, 
 projected from the shallow shore and raised their dark 
 gray shapes, in heavy shadow, among the slender weeds 
 and light-sprayed bushes that grew upon the rich allu- 
 vium collected around them. 
 
 The sportsmen sat quietly in their covert, and care- 
 fully watched the edges of the forest and the quiet banks, 
 through their leafy screen. For some time all was 
 still, as if no living thing existed within the range of 
 sight or sound. The fresh northerly breeze had died 
 out ; and not a whisper disturbed the death-like repose 
 of the scene, upon which the warm sunshine slept, as 
 upon a beautiful, painted picture. Now and then the 
 tops of the tallest trees just quivered with a passing
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 207 
 
 breath of air ; but, in the deep bosom of the woods, 
 all was as motionless as if the rich and lovely land- 
 scape had just grown up under the hand of the Crea- 
 tor, and stood awaiting in virgin silence the coming of 
 its animal and elemental life. 
 
 But, presently, Butler's watchful eye caught a slight 
 motion among the tops of a thicket of alders, that 
 fringed the water edge of a little glade opening upon 
 the shore some distance above them. A large deer 
 stepped out of the bushes, and paused to cast a long 
 and careful look in eveiy direction. Nothing appear- 
 ing to excite his suspicions, the timid animal drank co- 
 piously from the water, and, after another prolonged 
 survey of the neighborhood, waded into the lake, till the 
 water clo'sed over his back, leaving only his head and 
 neck visible. There he stood motionless, except now 
 and then bending to crop a lily-pad or play with his 
 muzzle in the cooling stream. But a near observer 
 might have seen his dark hazel eyes rolling in con- 
 stant watchfulness, his ears vibrating to the slightest 
 sound, and his broad nostrils snuffing the gale, to catch 
 the smallest contamination of the air. 
 
 Butler now drew back into the thicket, and said in 
 a whisper to his younger companion, " I must have 
 a chance at that buck, unless your father wants to try 
 his hand. It's not your turn now, Will." 
 
 "I sha'n't make any claim, James," replied the 
 Captain, in the same cautious tone. " I am very com- 
 fortable with my back against this tree, and will leave 
 the deer to you." 
 
 " Well, but please lend me your red bandanna 
 handkerchief for a few minutes." The Captain im- 
 mediately complied with the request, without a word, 
 for he understood very well the purpose of it. Wil-
 
 208 SAM SHIRK. 
 
 liam also drew his ramrod from his gun, and handed it 
 to Butler, who attached one side of it by the corners 
 to the stick, like a little flag. Passing it back to Wil- 
 liam, he said, as he turned to go, " Now, Bill, I shall 
 try to get down to the beaver-dam across the brook. 
 It will be a long shot, but I think I can bring him 
 down from there. If he should get startled, you know 
 how to use the flag." 
 
 Young Dee nodded assent ; and Butler, withdraw- 
 ing under the cover of the deep woods, crept guard- 
 edly to the point he had indicated, and was immedi- 
 ately lost to sight among the trees. William again 
 posted himself where he could observe the yet unsus- 
 pecting object of attack. The deer still remained 
 quiet. But after a few minutes, whether tired of his 
 luxurious cold bath or warned by his acute senses of 
 some questionable appearances, he turned and waded 
 towards the shore. Now was the time to put to its 
 use the little flag that Butler's caution had provided. 
 Concealing his person carefully behind the dense foli- 
 age, William raised the rod as high as he could reach, 
 and waved it gently in the air, where the breaks in 
 the boughs permitted it to be seen from the lake. Its 
 bright hue and fluttering motion attracted directly the 
 attention of the wary creature ; and he turned to gaze 
 upon it, with the earnest curiosity displayed by these 
 animals for any extraordinary and mysterious sight. 
 The poor, deluded victim paused a moment, to look 
 and wonder ; then resumed once more his way to the 
 land. But, at the edge of the bushes, he stopped again 
 to take another long look at the strange and brilliant 
 object. That delay was fatal to him. A thin puff of 
 smoke burst from the bushes, at the edge of the beaver- 
 dam ; and a rifle-ball set the speculations of his bewil- 
 dered brain at rest forever.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 209 
 
 Young Dee, throwing down the gaudy and fatal 
 instrument of delusion, hastened to join his friend ; 
 and the two dragged the body of the animal into the 
 thicket where they had kept their watch, just as 
 Shirk, who had heard the shot, entered it, attended by 
 Marquis, from the other side. 
 
 " Been making more work for my knife, James ? 
 I knowed your rifle didn't often go off for nothin'. 
 That's a handsome buck ; two prongs to his antlers, 
 three year old, and fat as butter. Joe's jest got out 
 yonder with his sled. I'll clean this feller up in a 
 minute or two, and he can have a ride along o' the 
 bear. But I s'pose he'd like to be properly dressed 
 first.'' So Sam, laughing at his own wit, took charge 
 of the new prize. 
 
 The deer was soon put into what Shirk considered 
 proper travelling trim ; and the whole party retraced 
 their steps to the spot where Sibley, with his bear, 
 awaited them. 
 
 " A nice buck," said Joe, casting his practiced eye 
 upon the last accession to their spoils. " Not a bad 
 mornin's work ; and now, by the time we get back, 
 dinner'll be ready for us." 
 
 Here Captain Dee interposed, " Much obliged to 
 you, Joe ; but it will take us three or four miles out of 
 our way, if we are going down river to night. I think 
 we had better keep straight on. What with the exer- 
 cise this confounded bear of yours has given me, I 
 think a twenty-mile tramp at the end of it will be 
 enough for my old bones." 
 
 " Now you," replied Sibley, " Liddy '11 be disap- 
 pinted ; she's been fussin' all the mornin'. And, if 
 yer tired, stay over night, and go down to-morrow." 
 14
 
 210 SAM SHIRK. 
 
 " I think we must start to-day, Joe : what do you 
 say, James ? " 
 
 " I can't stop longer than to-day this time, Joe. 
 So, if Captain Dee doesn't feel like tacking four miles 
 onto our walk, and I think it were better not, we must 
 head for home. We have crackers and cheese enough 
 for a lunch in our pockets ; and Sam can cut a steak 
 from either of these animals to take along, if he 
 chooses." 
 
 " Well, if you won't, I've no more to say. But it's 
 rather mean to be within two miles of a man's house, 
 and go away without your dinners." 
 
 " It is rather shabby after the trouble your wife's 
 been at. We should have thought of it before we 
 started. But you must make our peace with her. 
 By the way, I promised my mother a haunch of 
 venison ; and I must have one of that fellow's hind 
 legs. You keep the rest." 
 
 " You an't goin' to lug a quarter of that buck 
 twenty miles, are you ? I wouldn't if I didn't have a 
 dinner for a month. I've been thinkin' of goin' down 
 to the Falls some days. Let the deer be ; and I'll 
 throw a haunch over my horse, and bring it down to 
 you to-morrow." 
 
 " That will be capital, Joe. Bring it down with 
 you, if you will ; and try a bit of it with us." 
 
 The four travellers then shook hands with the hos- 
 pitable backwoodsman, and the parties separated for 
 their several destinations, Shirk taking up, as they 
 passed, his package of skins, which he had brought 
 along and deposited in the crotch of a tree, with the 
 provident purpose of alleviating the burden of their 
 transportation, by dividing it into two stages. Butler 
 and William Dee also lightened his heavy load by 
 each rolling up a couple of them under his own arm.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 As the party bound towards the sea-coast set them- 
 selves in motion homeward, a change in the atmos- 
 phere began to make itself apparent. The clear, cool 
 northerly breeze that, playing among the tree-tops, 
 was felt in the bosom of the wood in a bracing and in- 
 vigorating freshness, had died away, and was succeeded 
 by a dead calm, attended with the languid softness that 
 precedes a wind from the warmer regions. 
 
 Shirk, trudging along under his pack of wolf-skins, 
 soon felt its enervating influence upon his muscles. 
 Even Marquis, whose yet unsatisfied speculations upon 
 the hairy spoils of his late enemies had all along pro- 
 voked him, from time to time, to worry up over Sam's 
 heels to take a sniff, contented himself with trotting 
 quietly by the side of his master. 
 
 *' The wind's comin' round to the south'ard right 
 away," observed Sam, wiping his perspiring fore- 
 head with his sleeve. 
 
 " Yes," replied Captain Dee, " I saw that long 
 ago. I can smell a sea-wind as far as a crow can 
 scent a dead horse. It seems to me, I can smell 
 smoke in the air too. Is anybody making a burn 
 down below ? " 
 
 " I did not see any smoke as we came up," an- 
 swered Butler. " And I should not think anybody 
 would set a fire in a dry time like this."
 
 212 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " Nobody would, that had any gumption," added 
 Shirk. " But Dave Doolittle chopped down a piece 
 this summer, on his clearing ; and jest as like as not, 
 he's fired it now. He allers does things jest when 
 he don't ought to. He hardly knows anuf to go to 
 sleep o' nights." 
 
 " Sam, just slip off your pack, and let Marquis ex- 
 amine it at his leisure, while you climb this tsill spruce. 
 You can see from that a long distance." 
 
 In obedience to Butler's suggestion, Shirk threw off 
 his burden and his jacket too, and after a hard strug- 
 gle, for some thirty feet, up the straight trunk of the 
 tree, soon climbed from branch to branch, till he could 
 see over the general surface of the forest. After a 
 moment's survey, he shouted down to his companions, 
 as a man upon a house-top might report to his fellows 
 in the street of a close-built city : 
 
 " It's jest as I thought, I'll bet a dollar. I can 
 see Dave's clearing plain anuf; and right beyond it, 
 where his choppin' lays, there's a tarnal big smoke. 
 It's no fool of a fire, I'll be bound. It's blowin' right 
 onto him ; and he'll burn hisself up, as sure as can be. 
 What a consarned fool he is ! He don't know so much 
 as a yaller dog." 
 
 " He is a terrible blockhead ; and if he has put the 
 fire into his cut-down now, he'll stand a chance to 
 burn up all he's got in the world. Can't we reach 
 there in time to help him, Sam? There's nobody 
 within ten miles of his house." 
 
 " Yes, I think we could, 'tan't more than four 
 mile. But the fire will go like lightnin', if it gets well 
 under way. The smoke grows wuss every minute." 
 
 " Jump down, then, as quick as you can," inter- 
 posed Captain Dee ; " we'll crowd all sail and get 
 there as soon as possible."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 213 
 
 Shirk speedily descended from his airy perch, and 
 resumed his jacket and his wolf-skins. As soon as he 
 was ready to proceed, they all struck off at an angle 
 from their former course, at a pace as rapid as they 
 could sustain. By the time they had advanced two 
 miles, the woods became full of a dense and choking 
 smoke, which grew more oppressive at every step. 
 Soon it wrapped the forest in a deep shroud, that shut 
 out almost entirely the light of the sun, which ap- 
 peared, as occasionally seen through the trees, like a 
 dull and lustreless ball of copper. Still they pushed 
 steadily on, though the close and stifling atmosphere 
 made breathing laborious, and the forced exertion drew 
 the perspiration from every pore of their skin. The 
 increasing dimness, that fast enveloped them, rendered 
 it no easy task to keep their course. But they were 
 all familiar with like emergencies ; and occasional 
 glances at the trees sufficed to assure their path. At 
 the end of an hour, they struck the river, nearly oppo- 
 site the clearing of Doolittle ; and, after fording its 
 shallow waters over a raft of logs stranded upon the 
 rocks, crossed a corner of the rough field studded over 
 with black stumps and strewn with remnants of burnt 
 trees, and stood, at last, before the door of the propri- 
 etor. 
 
 Thankless mortals seldom appreciate their own good 
 fortune, except by comparison with the lack of the ad- 
 vantages that they enjoy thoughtlessly, for the very 
 reason of their constancy and certainty. The spoilt 
 child of civilization seldom troubles himself to think 
 how the path has been smoothed before him by labors 
 of which he has taken no heed. If he walks or drives, 
 there is the road, levelled by the toil of a thousand 
 arms, hard trodden by the steps of myriad feet. He
 
 214 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 looks out upon landscapes where generations have ex- 
 pended their taste and industry ; he revels on delicious 
 fruits planted by hands long ago dust. The spicy lux- 
 uries of the East and the products of Western seas, 
 the orange of the tropics and the fur of the Arctic cir- 
 cle, are common in his home, though it may be a hum- 
 ble one, or may be had in a few minutes out of the 
 vast stores of commerce and ingenious toil. His every 
 want, his idlest whim, may be speedily gratified, if it 
 falls short of a rhinoceros or an anaconda, or modestly 
 asks something less than the Kohinoor. 
 
 But very different is it in the rude life of the pio- 
 neer. He goes far away from all this wealth of com- 
 fort and contrivance, to engage in that primeval strug- 
 gle with Nature that has been the task of man from 
 the beginning. Without the machinery and number- 
 less devices by which invention has provided for every 
 want, which he generally can neither purchase, nor 
 carry with him if he could purchase them, he goes 
 into the contest single-handed, and with hardly more 
 artificial resources than his barbarian ancestors in the 
 German forests. Inch by inch, and blow by blow, he 
 must work his way by main force, and, in the midst 
 of privations both great and small, defend himself 
 and those he loves from hunger and cold, and win from 
 the reluctant wilderness the reward of unremitting 
 
 O 
 
 labor. To a man less resolute and sinewy, his task 
 w r ould be a hopeless impossibility. He must often trav- 
 erse miles of forest-path for a handful of nails or a 
 pound of tea, if, indeed, in his isolation, he can com- 
 mand the means to buy them. He must sometimes 
 carry on his back, over miles of rugged road, board by 
 board, the materials to finish his log-hut. But, in all 
 these severe toils, there is the sure hope of ultimate
 
 A TALE OF TEE WOODS OF MAINE. 215 
 
 success. For, in his poverty of appliances, he carries 
 with him the persevering confidence, if he lacks the 
 resources of civilization ; and he has at least the axe 
 and the plough, the two great instruments of prog- 
 ress. 
 
 But David Doolittle was an unfavorable specimen 
 of this class of men, in some respects. Honest, indus- 
 trious, and painstaking, he was one of the unfortunate 
 individuals who, to use the common and expressive 
 phrase, " have no faculty." He did not know how to 
 manage matters to advantage ; or, if he knew how, he 
 never did it. The cart was always before the horse, 
 with him. There was always something too much or 
 too little, too soon or too late. It was easy to account 
 for much of his difficulty by a glance at his premises. 
 His cart and tools were always to be seen laying about 
 exposed to the weather ; and frequently more time 
 was consumed in putting them in order for use, than 
 in doing the work for which they were required. No 
 slough in his daily path was ever filled up, no stone 
 taken out of the way, no obnoxious stump cut out. 
 So David and his team and family blundered on, day 
 after day, through all manner of obstacles, which half 
 the labor employed in overcoming them might have 
 put out of the way forever ; and a vast amount of irri- 
 tation, vexation, and loss daily endured, only to be du- 
 plicated on the next and every other day of their lives. 
 Unfortunately, too, the wife was untidy and shiftless as 
 her husband ; and the necessary consequence was, that 
 endless trouble, in doors and out, destroyed alike all 
 comfort for the present and all hope for the future ; 
 and a sullen and cheerless gloom settled over the de- 
 spairing household. 
 
 At this crisis in his fortunes, the friendly visitors
 
 216 SAM SRIKK: 
 
 found David standing in front of his log-hut, gazing 
 mournfully and helplessly at the black volumes of 
 smoke that rolled threateningly up in one enormous 
 billowy cloud, from behind a long ridge of land, whose 
 crest, perhaps a quarter of a mile distant, yet inter- 
 cepted the view of the flames that were raging in the 
 forest beyond. 
 
 ** Why, Dave ! " shouted Shirk, as, coming up with 
 Butler, he threw down his bundle of wolf-skins. 
 " What on airth are you gaping at, with a fire like 
 that right on you ? " 
 
 " What could I do to fight sich a fire as that, all 
 alone ? " replied Doolittle despondently. 
 
 "To be sure a thousand men couldn't stop that 
 blaze now, with the Narraguagus to back 'em. But 
 you may save your buildings, perhaps, David, if you 
 bestir yourself, and we've made a hard march to 
 come to your help," said Butler. 
 
 " And what shall I do ? In half an hour 'twill be 
 rainin' sparks and cinders like a snow-storm. But 
 thank you for comin,' all the same." 
 
 " Well, well. Let's try and do what we can ; and 
 Providence must take care of the rest. Don't give up 
 without a struggle for it. Where are your cattle ? " 
 
 " Out in the field yonder, a piece ; but you can't 
 see 'em, no more than if 'twas midnight, for the 
 smoke." 
 
 " Yoke 'em up ; and take your boy here and a chain, 
 and start back twenty or thirty lengths of the cedar 
 fence that joins the corner of your barn. The fire 
 will run on it like lightning. Stick to that till it 
 drives you off; we'll do what else can be done here." 
 
 Inspirited by Butler's energetic tones, the poor fel- 
 low's sluggish face lighted up with a faint show of
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 217 
 
 hope. " Thank ye, thank ye, God bless ye ! " he 
 sobbed out. " But don't let the little ones and the 
 woman get burnt up in the house. She's packin' up 
 things inside. Come, Hiram, and bring the chain. 
 It's clown alongside the wheels there." 
 
 Taking the yoke upon his shoulders, Doolittle moved 
 off with his boy ; and Butler and Sam turned to hold 
 counsel with the Dees, who had just come up, for 
 the Captain was sorely out of wind, and leaned heavily 
 on his son's arm. 
 
 "Phew, phew," sputtered out the Captain. "I'm 
 fairly blown, and hang me if there's a breath of air 
 fit for a Christian to swallow. It's as close as the 
 devil's back parlor. But we must go to work ; and 
 there's no time to lose.'' 
 
 So saying, and wiping his forehead diligently, he 
 took a rapid survey of the premises, as well as the 
 dense smoke allowed. Doolittle's architectural efforts 
 had been upon the simplest and meanest scale ; but 
 poor as the results were, they were everything to him. 
 A small and low log-house, roofed with hemlock bark, 
 and a " hovel," or little barn of the same rude mate- 
 rials and workmanship, partially surrounded by a cow- 
 yard and buttressed at one end by a pig-sty, composed 
 all the accommodations for man or beast. A large 
 cleared field interposed between the buildings and the 
 woodland beyond, in which the conflagration was rag- 
 ing. The removal of the fence that separated the 
 clearing from the forest, as suggested by Butler, in- 
 sulated the homestead from all direct communication 
 with the combustible material around, and afforded a 
 faint hope of saving the buildings from the cinders, 
 which alone could communicate the fire. The chance, 
 nevertheless, was at best a very doubtful one. A
 
 218 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 brisk southwest wind was now blowing full upon the 
 roofs, constructed of material ignitable to the highest 
 degree, and dried by the long heats of summer to the 
 utmost. Scorching currents poured over them, under 
 the intense heat of which the last vestiges of moisture 
 oozed, from each crack and cranny, in slender wreaths 
 of steam. 
 
 After throwing down their coats and guns, the 
 younger men set about their precautionary measures, 
 while Captain Dee went to superintend proceedings 
 within the house, where the wife of Doolittle was hur- 
 rying about, as much stupefied and bewildered as her 
 husband had been, before his energies were cuffed into 
 
 * O 
 
 activity by the friendly remonstrances of his newly ar- 
 rived assistants. But under the Captain's brisk orders, 
 the humble household wealth was soon packed up for 
 removal, and every utensil available for holding water, 
 from the milk-pitcher to the wash-tubs and empty pork- 
 barrels, was mustered at the door and filled as rapidly 
 as possible from the neighboring spring. 
 
 Meanwhile Butler, William, and Shirk wistfully 
 surveyed the barn ; that, being many rods nearer to 
 the edge of the woods, was far more exposed to danger 
 than the house, which fortunately stood nearly in the 
 centre of the field. 
 
 " William," said Butler, " if we can save the hovel 
 here, there will be a good chance for the house. But 
 if this catches, it is all over with both." 
 
 " That's it," interposed Shirk; " it's jest so, James ; 
 but what in time are we goin' to do ? I'm dead beat 
 where to begin. I don't wonder old Dave feels down 
 to heel." 
 
 " We must try to cover this roof somehow. When 
 the fire once gets this side of the hill, it will be hotter
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 219 
 
 here than Tophet, and the first cinder will kindle those 
 cedar splits as if they were gunpowder." 
 
 " But what to cover it with ? " asked William. 
 
 " Sure enough, Bill, that's the pinch. Dirt, 'twill 
 take too long. Ah ! your wolf-skins, Sam. Untie your 
 bundle quick as winking. I'm in hopes they may 
 cover the windward side at least." 
 
 Sam rushed to his pack, and, untying the cord, 
 jerked out, one after another, a dozen or more shaggy 
 pelts ; while, as tawny muzzles, legs, and bushy tails 
 once more assumed partially their life semblance, poor 
 Marquis, half frightened, half quarrelsome, darted to 
 and fro round them, giving a hasty snap and shake to 
 some protruding member, then hurriedly retreating 
 with furious barks and growls. 
 
 " Get out o' that, Mark ; we've got something be- 
 sides play on hand, old feller. Them chaps are goin' 
 to do some good now, for the first time in their lives. 
 James, I'll climb up yonder, and you pass 'em up 
 while I spread 'em." 
 
 Giving a gentle box on the ears to the dog, who was 
 persisting in his skirmishes with the lifeless remains of 
 enemies that still excited his canine imagination to a 
 wrathful terror, Sam climbed from the top of the ox- 
 wheels upon the low roof, and rapidly laid the pelts 
 smoothly over the whole, from the ridge-pole down- 
 ward. A load of light spruce poles fortunately lay 
 hard by, by the help of which, with the aid of loose 
 stones, the skins were snugly secured. That side was 
 covered, with the exception of one corner, over which 
 Sam threw his woolen frock. 
 
 " There, James, if them 'ere don't stand some heat, 
 then I can't guess. Them green skins an't got a mite 
 o' burn to 'em. But now about t'other side. I wish
 
 220 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 we had another dozen of the varmint's hides ; but 
 wishin' won't do any good." 
 
 " But these will," said William Dee, staggering out 
 of the barn under an overshadowing pile of deer-skins 
 and a large ox-hide trailing behind him. I found these 
 in a corner of the hovel." So saving, he threw his 
 load upon the ground, producing anew an intense ex- 
 citement in the nervous system of Marquis, who ex- 
 panded immediately into a foray upon this reinforce- 
 ment of hirsute abominations. 
 
 " Good on your head, William ! What a fool I was 
 not to have thought o' that! Anybody might 'a 
 knowed a man in the Avoods would have a pile of deer- 
 skins in his barn, unless a pedlar had jest been round. 
 There's the old ox's hide too, that the bears killed for 
 poor Dave last spring ; blast their picturs ! Pass 'em 
 up, pass 'em up. I'll shingle 'em on in less than no 
 time." 
 
 " If you'll hand them up to Sam, James, I'll go for 
 three or four more which I could not fetch. Lay them 
 on thick, Sam, there's plenty, and more too." 
 
 In a few minutes, the opposite slope of the roof was 
 closely covered with this opportune supply ; and, after 
 careful adjustment of all loose corners, and ballasting 
 here and there with some additional stones, Shirk 
 jumped down to the ground, his job completed to his 
 perfect satisfaction. 
 
 " There, I rather guess that's the fust buildin' was 
 ever shingled with skins, in 'Guagus valley, anyhow. 
 That'll keep the fire out from July to etarnity, I'll 
 guarantee. It's all-fired hot and stiflin' though, to 
 work in. But here's another job yet. Jest see that 
 hay-winder in the gable, gapin' wide open. The cin- 
 ders'll be rushin' in there shortly, like destruction.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 221 
 
 That tormented, lazy Dave's never made a shutter for 
 it, though it's two years he's had this hovel built ; no 
 more he won't, until it's rotted down agin." 
 
 " There's the ox-hide yet. If we can find a hammer 
 and a handful of nails, we'll fix that in a jiffy." 
 
 " I'll have 'em directly, James. I saw a hammer 
 and some shingle-nails inside." 
 
 The ox-hide was soon closely tacked up over the 
 aperture, and the trio paused from their arduous labor 
 to wipe their brows and congratulate themselves on 
 their success in this quarter. Two or three empty 
 pork-barrels were then rolled out from the barn, and, 
 with the help of Captain Dee's crew, as the old gen- 
 tleman styled the forlorn Mrs. Doolittle and two rag- 
 ged, bareheaded, and barefooted urchins, they were 
 soon filled with water from a hollow in the brook hard 
 by, scooped out to water the cattle in. Thus all was 
 done that ingenuity could suggest to meet the impend- 
 ing danger. 
 
 " How have you got along at the house, father ? " 
 
 " O, all's right there, William. The traps are all 
 packed up, and I have got everything filled with water 
 but the hair-sieve and the cullender, and stowed all 
 round outside. And you've done a good job with the 
 hovel there ; first-rate plan, whosever it is. It puzzles 
 Marquis, and I don't wonder at it. Come here, dog ! 
 what are you bobbing up and down at those tails and 
 legs for ? You can't reach 'em, and they won't 
 trouble you any more. Well, boys, I think we can 
 stand the siege now with some chance ; that is, if we 
 don't get choked to death. Now let's wash our throats 
 out ; and you and I, Sam, can take a pipe, before the 
 fire gets up with us." 
 
 While the Captain looked up his canteen and dis-
 
 222 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 pensed a moderate portion of its refreshing contents 
 among the tired and heated party, Doolittle came in 
 with his oxen and his son, and reported that they had 
 hauled off all the fence within dangerous contiguity. 
 The whole now seated or stretched themselves on the 
 ground to rest and watch the approach of their terrible 
 adversary. 
 
 The fire had now reached the crest of the ridge in 
 front of them ; and occasional flashes began to be seen 
 through the veil of smoke, which, lighted up at its 
 lower edge by a dull red glare, had been hitherto the 
 only indication, to the eye, of the progress of the 
 destructive element. A rolling wave broke along over 
 the outlines of the hills, feeding upon the fallen leaves 
 and branches, shrubs and other scattered materials 
 upon the surface. From this ground-line, tongues of 
 flame shot curling into the air, borne upward by the 
 eddies of the heated atmosphere and carried irresisti- 
 bly forward by the wind, that urged on its devouring 
 march. Wrapping, at once, in its red mantle the 
 straggling brushwood and undergrowth of young sap- 
 lings, it darted upon the lower limbs of the resinous 
 trees, and, leaping from branch to branch, turned the 
 tall hemlocks, spruces, and pines, in an instant, into 
 pyramids of fire. The hard-wood trees, less inflamma- 
 ble, smoked and wilted in the intense heat, till the 
 victorious flames, after a few moments of delay, swept 
 their red banners triumphant over the crisped foliage. 
 The jets rushed up over the pitch-laden spray of the 
 evergreens, with a crackle like the spattering hiss of 
 a thousand rockets ; and the heavy, concentrated mur- 
 mur of the advancing blaze swelled like the thunder- 
 ing surges of a stormy sea. Far in front of the sweep- 
 ing flames, showers of sparks and cinders filled the air ;
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 223 
 
 and kindled, here and there, little conflagrations, pre- 
 paring the way for the furious tide of destruction that 
 rao-ed along behind. The dense, hot smoke and ashes 
 
 O O 
 
 flew in clouds upon the van of the terrible onslaught ; 
 and the bright flashes, seen through their sombre veil, 
 acquired a lurid and concentrated glow, like an un- 
 earthly pandemonium. 
 
 The position of the occupants of Doolittle's home- 
 stead would have been utterly untenable by mortal 
 endurance, had not the conflagration slackened and 
 finally died out, as it reached the back line of the 
 clearing, for want of further food in that direction. 
 
 o 7 
 
 But on the flanks of the field it still maintained its 
 progress, spreading wider and wider as it rolled along. 
 Upon the quarter where they sat watching the barn, 
 the proximity of the raging element and the direction 
 of the wind made their situation almost intolerable, 
 notwithstanding that one side was now free from 
 annoyance. The cessation of the fire in that quar- 
 ter, however, together with the decreasing distance 
 between them and the burning timber, rendered the 
 smoke less thick and oppressive ; as the ascending 
 currents, created by the intense heat and the upward 
 rush of the flames, lifted its heavy clouds somewhat 
 over their heads, and made respiration easier. They 
 maintained their guard over the buildings patiently, 
 sheltering themselves from the blinding storm of sparks 
 and ashes by fastening their handkerchiefs over their 
 faces, to serve as veils. With this help they were able 
 to support a recumbent position upon the ground, if 
 not with comfort, without much serious suffering. 
 
 " I should think this 'ere the handsomest sight I 
 ever see," said Shirk, " if 'twas only a little farder 
 off. If I was fatter, I should expect to run down into 
 my boots, like taller in a candle-mould."
 
 224 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " You needn't fear melting, Sam," chuckled Cap- 
 tain Dee, " There's no more grease in your anatomy 
 than in an old baboon's. You'd dry up and burn, like 
 the leaves out yonder." 
 
 " Well, Captain, 'tan't no great of a choice 'twixt 
 meltin' and fryin' ; about t'other and which, I reckon. 
 It's a case anyhow. I don't think I shall get cool again 
 afore the next snow-storm. But jest look at old Dave, 
 Captain," added Sam, in a lower voice ; for, though his 
 tone indicated contempt, Shirk was too kind-hearted 
 to wound the feelings of its object. " He's jest like a 
 wet rag. If we hadn't come along, he'd a sot there 
 and let everything burn up." 
 
 Doolittle's appearance certainly justified the criti- 
 cism. He was seated at a little distance on the end of 
 a log, with his hands in his pockets and a short pipe in 
 his mouth, which, however, he had forgotten to fill, 
 looking uneasily from the buildings that contained his 
 all of worldly goods to the destruction that threatened 
 them, with a look of wistful helplessness sadly at vari- 
 ance with the emergency. His listless gaze was like 
 that of the despondent eye of the sick man, expressive 
 at once of trouble, and of deep consciousness of lack of 
 strength to combat it. But the look brightened as it 
 rested upon the more energetic friends whom his good 
 fortune had sent to his aid, as if capacity of action was 
 not wanting, if it were only called out and directed by 
 external support. His whole garb and all the sur- 
 roundings wore the same shiftless aspect ; from his old, 
 battered hat and ragged garments to the wretched 
 farming tools and domestic appliances scattered all 
 about, not only out of place and order, but with an 
 unmistakable air that no place or order at all were 
 among the conditions of their existence.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 225 
 
 " Yes, Sam. David is a poor manager, that's too 
 clear. But a man out here in the woods, without 
 neighbors, without tools, roads, without almost every- 
 thing in fact, but his hands, has a hard chance. If he 
 hasn't energy to get the better of difficulties, they can't 
 but get the better of him ; and he grows to be content 
 with poor, miserable make-shifts, till he gives up in 
 despair everything he can live without. If he's right 
 smart, he makes his path clear and smooth at last ; if 
 not, he worries along through the sloughs and stumps 
 for his life-time." . 
 
 " That's jest so, Captain," rejoined Shirk earnestly. 
 " I was in jest sich a fix once myself, and made up my 
 mind pretty often that 'twas easier to go without things 
 than to get 'em. And I shouldn't a' been no better 
 than a beggar now, James, if your mother hadn't gi'n 
 me a lift. God bless her ! and He will that. I wish I 
 knew how to do as much good to somebody as she's 
 done for me. It's a'most too much to think of; it 
 plagues me a'most as bad as poor David's needcessities 
 does him. I'd die forty times over, sooner'n put your 
 mother out once, James. And you an't been slow to 
 help me yourself nuther ; nor you nuther, Captain 
 Dee, nor all on 'em, for the matter o' that." 
 
 Here poor Sam's grateful recollections choked him, 
 and he began to stammer. Regaining his voice and 
 wiping his tell-tale eyes with his sleeve, he apologeti- 
 cally added, 
 
 " What a tormented fool I'm actin' like ! " 
 
 " No, you an't, Sam," replied Captain Dee ; " you're 
 talking like an honest and true man. And, if you said 
 anything else of James and his mother, I should be 
 tempted to whop you, old as I am. As for me, I've 
 done little or nothing but treat you as you deserved to 
 
 15
 
 226 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 be. You're a good fellow, Sam ; and don't be fool 
 enough to be ashamed of it." And the kind-hearted 
 
 O 
 
 old Captain shook Shirk's hand cordially, which brought 
 the tears back again into his eyes. 
 
 " Well, when you're ashamed o' me agin, any on 
 ye, jest shoot me. I'd thank you to, sooner than look 
 ye in the eyes arter it." 
 
 " No, no, Sam. We shouldn't do any such thing ; 
 there would be several serious objections. But never 
 fear ; there'll be no occasion. You're all right." 
 
 " Well, if I be, I'd oughter ; I don't desarve no 
 credit for't. But I don't know but I've been too hard 
 on poor Dave. He han't had sich a friend as I have ; 
 and that 'ere woman of his would drag most men down, 
 I should judge by the looks'on her. She an't no ac- 
 count at all, to my mind ; a nasty, mismanaging good- 
 for-nothin' slut. She looks jest like somethin' the cat's 
 brought into the house. If I had sich a woman, 
 I'd " 
 
 "'Put up with her, as well as you could, I guess, 
 Sam. But may be you are a little too hard with her 
 too. Perhaps she does as well as she knows how." 
 
 " P'raps she does. But I don't see the use of a 
 woman that can't keep things decent, and throws 'em 
 out o' the winder as fast as her husband can bring 'em 
 in at the door." 
 
 Sam uttered this unsentimental comment upon con- 
 jugal relations with a tone that seemed to say that it 
 settled the question beyond all legitimate controversy. 
 Their attention, moreover, was drawn to more pressing 
 matters, for the conflagration was now fast reaching 
 the woods immediately in their front. They could see, 
 where they sat, the burning fragments whirled through 
 the air before the fierce breath of the fire, and kindling,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 227 
 
 in detached spots, still further on. Close upon these 
 followed the eager flames, lapping up with their hot 
 tongues the withered brakes, fallen leaves, and every 
 other combustible thing upon the surface of the ground. 
 Then leaped after them the towering flashes, seizing 
 with the rapidity of lightning upon the already heated 
 and dried foliage of the trees, and seeming to scale the 
 very skies, as they darted, crackling and hissing, up 
 the tall trunks, and shot out in greedy whirls to the 
 utmost extremity of every limb. From this glowing 
 furnace, the heavy clouds of smoke rolled up in tor- 
 tuous columns, till they formed a dense canopy that 
 floated slowly to leeward, and then, descending again 
 as it grew heavier by cooling, enveloped the woods 
 and ground in an almost impenetrable shroud. 
 
 As the magnificent but destructive spectacle swept 
 down close before them, conversation ceased in an ab- 
 sorbing observation of the terrible grandeur of the 
 scene. The spectators gazed silently at the brilliant 
 bursts of flame flashing through the deep curtains of 
 smoke, and watched anxiously every cinder that flew 
 over the buildings they were so solicitous to save. 
 After a few moments of stillness, unbroken except 
 by the exulting crackle of the voracious element, as it 
 spread its red sheets in triumph over shrub after shrub 
 and tree after tree, a low, wild bleat was heard in front 
 of them, and the branches of a clump of young firs 
 waved and parted. In an instant or two, a spotted 
 fawn, of four or five months old, broke from the thicket, 
 and, clearing the log-fence at a bound, continued its 
 headlong flight, till it paused amazed in the very cen- 
 tre of the group. Marquis, carried away by his sport- 
 ing instincts, greeted the sudden visitor with a sharp 
 bark of surprise, and darted upon the little fugitive
 
 228 t SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with merciless alacrity. But William arrested the at- 
 tack with a sharp " Down, down, sir ! " and rescued 
 the frightened creature from its new danger. The 
 graceful and timid animal, appalled apparently by the 
 threatened destruction from which it had fled and by 
 the strange society into which its frantic rush had 
 brought it, crouched trembling at his feet, without any 
 further attempt to escape, his deep, dark eyes fastening 
 themselves, in wonder and mute entreaty, on the boy's 
 kind face, as he bent protectingly over him. 
 
 " Poor little fellow ! He has lost his mother in the 
 hurry-scurry, and is frightened out of his wits." So 
 saying, he gently took up the panting runaway, and 
 carried him into a calf-pen which he had observed in 
 the barn, where he laid him softly upon a bed of 
 straw. 
 
 " Take him home and tame him, William," said 
 his father ; " he will make a pretty pet. Marquis will 
 soon learn to live in peace with him. I don't know 
 how he'll get along with old Poll, though, if she 
 takes it into her head to grudge him his dinner." 
 
 Before William could return from securing his little 
 captive, the attention of all was arrested by a loud 
 scream ; and, looking toward the house, they saw Mrs. 
 Doolittle, from whose musical throat the outcry pro- 
 ceeded, pointing upwards energetically with one skinny 
 arm, from which the fragments of her ragged sleeve 
 depended in picturesque streamers. Following the in- 
 dication of her gesture, they saw, with alarm, a light 
 wreath of smoke curling up from the bark covering of 
 the roof. 
 
 "D n it all!" shouted Captain Dee; "that 
 
 confounded house means to get on fire, after all our 
 trouble." Dashing down his pipe, he rushed, as fast
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 229 
 
 as his short and tired legs could carry him, to the 
 scene of new danger. 
 
 But the younger men outstripped the less efficient 
 alacrity of the good Captain. Before he reached the 
 spot, Shirk had clambered, with a desperate bound, 
 upon the low roof, and dashed upon the incipient flames 
 a bucket of water handed up to him by Butler. The 
 stray cinder, that had lodged in a crevice of the 'sheets 
 of hemlock bark, was speedily extinguished ; and a few 
 more pailfuls of water thoroughly averted the threat- 
 ening peril. 
 
 The triumphant Sam tossed down the last empty 
 bucket ; but, as he waved his cap in a victorious hurra, 
 he suddenly disappeared from sight through the frail 
 covering with a loud crash, to the mutual consterna- 
 tion of himself and his friends below. Before, how- 
 ever, the astonished spectators of the catastrophe re- 
 covered their self-possession, his bronzed face was stuck 
 up through the shattered bark, enlivened by a broad 
 grin that assured them of his escape from bodily 
 harm. 
 
 " No bones broken yet ; but your garret floor an't 
 so soft as a feather-bed, Dave. No harm done, but a 
 few pailfuls of water leaked down into the room below 
 there ; and I don't think Miss Doolittle will be much 
 troubled about that," said Sam, with a somewhat mali- 
 ciously significant laugh. " But I guess I won't trust 
 your ruff agin. I'll come down the ladder inside 
 here." 
 
 In a moment Sam descended the primitive staircase 
 and rejoined his companions, undamaged by his invol- 
 untary exploit. 
 
 It soon became evident that there was no risk of 
 a recurrence of the danger so happily prevented ; for
 
 230 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 the fire had now passed far beyond the buildings, and 
 reaching the river at many points, was arrested by the 
 water, or the low and swampy grounds in its neighbor- 
 hood. Although it still raged and roared where mate- 
 rial remained to feed its fury, it was clear the crisis 
 was past. The space, passed over by its ravages, now 
 lay a blank waste, where nothing was to be seen but 
 black, charred, and mutilated trees and gray ashes, 
 except that here and there the remnants of the dense 
 thickets still burned feebly ; and the fire yet clung tena- 
 ciously to the half-rotted stumps and the dry fallen 
 timber ; and quivering tongues of flame danced still 
 upon the half-consumed extremities of the branches 
 of the trees, standing in sombre ruin, stripped of every 
 vestige of vegetation. 
 
 The volunteer protectors of the rescued homestead 
 were now proceeding to gather up their equipments, 
 and resume their interrupted journey ; but Mrs. Doo- 
 little interposed the usual backwoods hospitality, with 
 the cordial zeal prompted by her lively sense of the 
 services rendered, in their almost hopeless extremity. 
 
 " Ye an't goin' without nothin' to eat, and not had 
 yer dinners nuther, for fightin' this dreadful fire, 
 sartin sure ! Mr. Doolittle, can't you jest take a pail 
 and get me some fresh water? I'll git sumthin' or 
 nuther ready, in a little while. But I'm sorry the 
 foxes has stole all our chickins." 
 
 " I'm sorry too," muttered Shirk, in an aside to 
 William. " It's a pity they don't love wimmin." 
 
 Captain Dee and Butler both attempted to excuse 
 themselves from the experiment of her grateful but 
 questionable kindness, by the plea, that they had still 
 a long walk before them and could rely on the lun- 
 cheon yet untouched in their pockets. But, finding
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 231 
 
 the good woman's sensitiveness deeply involved in the 
 point, they good-naturedly consented to stay and abide 
 their chances. So the master of the house started for 
 the spring, in furtherance of the labors of his help- 
 mate ; and Captain Dee returned to his pipe, left half 
 smoked in the hurry of the late alarm, accompanied 
 by his fellow-travellers. 
 
 " Captain Dee," said Shirk, as he adjusted his 
 back against a log and prepared his own pipe, " I 
 wish you hadn't agreed to stop. That 'ei'e woman '11 
 pison us all, I do believe. She's jest as like as not to 
 boil up a bull-frog in the tea, and get a shovel or two 
 of ashes into the vittles." 
 
 " O Sam, don't you worry yourself any more ! 
 We couldn't get away without affronting her. You 
 know we must eat a peck of dirt in the course of our 
 lives ; and you may just as well take a few spoonfuls 
 of your allowance now as at any time ; and as for 
 the tea ; let's hope for the best. May be we'll get 
 off with a pollywog or two. I never knew you to be 
 so spiteful, Sam." 
 
 " Well, I can't help it, Captain. All is, if I had sich 
 a woman, I'd " 
 
 Whether Sam's marital indignation was too great 
 for utterance, or whether he deprecated the risk of the 
 Captain's displeasure, he never finished the sentence, 
 but applied himself industriously to the preparation of 
 his tobacco. 
 
 The conflagration had now rolled far away to lee- 
 ward ; and the brisk southwest wind had driven off 
 the smoke before it, though small columns still rose in 
 some places into the air, from spots where the flames 
 had found the most abundant material. Isolated fires 
 were yet burning actively, and the old stumps smoked
 
 232 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 in dull combustion ; but the desolated forest around 
 stood, a black mass of scorched skeletons, stripped of 
 all that was readily inflammable, and doomed to silent 
 and mouldering decay. 
 
 The balmy breeze again furnished an atmosphere fit 
 for respiration, although a strong and pungent taint 
 of smoke pervaded it. Great was the relief to the 
 wearied men, who had been compelled to exert their 
 physical endurance to the utmost, not only in the 
 severe labor they had undergone, but also in the ex- 
 hausting annoyance and irritation of the almost intol- 
 erable cloud of smoke and ashes. They were all well 
 content to rest their tired limbs and sore lungs, in 
 quiet enjoyment of restored comfort, until Mrs. Doo- 
 little's shrill scream informed them that her labors in 
 their behalf had reached their accomplishment. 
 
 When they had seated themselves around the totter- 
 ing and broken-legged table that unsteadily supported 
 its hospitable load, they found Sam's evil prognostics 
 at fault, at least so far as was obvious to the senses. 
 Notwithstanding the delinquencies of the foxes and the 
 unthriftiness that generally made Doolittle's larder 
 anything but luxurious, the poor woman's sincere ex- 
 ertions for their comfort had met with a reward not 
 always vouchsafed to her good intentions. The first 
 and main course consisted, indeed, only of rashers of 
 pork and boiled potatoes. But it was backed up by 
 a plate of good hot bread and fresh butter, and fur- 
 ther recommended to the appetite by a very tolerable 
 decoction of tea, the value of which fragrant cordial 
 is nowhere more appreciated than in the simple diet 
 of frontier life. Shirk was compelled to confess that 
 he could not detect even a tadpole to disturb its rel- 
 ish ; and if any illegitimate ingredients were present
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 28-3 
 
 in the other viands, there was no outward evidence 
 of the fact. Therefore, by rule of law and Christian 
 charity alike, their innocence was to be presumed. A 
 pie made of fresh berries and a dessert of the same 
 native luxuries, which are afforded in such abundance 
 from all the nooks and corners of a new clearing, in a 
 virgin soil, completed a repast, perfectly satisfactory to 
 the simple and hearty appetites of the guests. Nobody 
 was disposed to criticise the incongruous character of 
 the table furniture ; although the cups were nearly all 
 of different patterns, and mismatched with saucers that 
 still farther increased the variety, the plates of differ- 
 ent colors and sizes, and the knives and forks appar- 
 ently ambassador samples from half the manufacturers 
 in England. 
 
 After the meal was dispatched, the travellers pre- 
 pared to take leave of their entertainers. It was ar- 
 ranged with Doolittle that he should, on the morrow, 
 drive down his ox-cart, bringing with him the little 
 fawn, Sam's wolf-skins, and his own deer-hides, which 
 he wished to trade off at the village for articles needed 
 more than ever in his household, in consequence of the 
 late disaster. 
 
 Shaking hands with David, whose moist eyes and 
 nervous grasp bespoke his gratitude even better than 
 the voluble and reiterated thanks of his wife, the lit- 
 tle party turned their backs upon the dismal trunks 
 of the scorched and dismantled neighborhood, and 
 started once more for home. But it was not till after 
 midnight that they laid their heads upon their pillows 
 to enjoy the sweet rest doubly earned by severe toil 
 and the pleasant conviction of good done to a fellow- 
 man.
 
 234 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 SHORTLY after the expedition we have recounted, as 
 Butler left home one morning after breakfast, he saw 
 Squire Preston coming up the road towards him at a 
 furious rate. As soon as within hearing, the lawyer 
 shouted out, 
 
 " Good-morning, Butler ; I've been looking every- 
 where for you." 
 
 " Except at home, where I might reasonably be 
 supposed to be," added James, laughing. 
 
 " That's rich, on my word. Why, as long as I've 
 lived in Merrifield, I have never looked for a man at 
 home, except at dinner and bed-time. We're out-of- 
 door folks here. But hang that. We want to get 
 you to sit upon a reference this morning." 
 
 " Which is about the most uncomfortable seat you 
 can invite a man to occupy," said Butler, still laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " Well, I don't dispute that point ; and I don't 
 propose it as an object of either pleasure or profit. 
 But this is a matter of Christian charity. You've 
 heard of the famous case of Oliver Vail vs. Sam 
 Aiken. No ! well so much the better. Now those 
 two idiots have been in a quarrel these four years 
 about an infernal yearling ram. The case has been 
 through all the courts, but no jury could ever agree ; 
 it has been carried up on all sorts of law points,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 235 
 
 but there's no point in the law on which it will stick. 
 At last, after spending their last dollars, and in de- 
 spair of ever settling it in any less rational and more 
 expensive way, the fools have agreed to what they 
 might have done as well the first day, to leave it to 
 the common sense of three of their neighbors to say 
 which is the bigger blockhead of the two. One of the 
 referees is sick, and can't come ; and you have been 
 agreed on to take his place." 
 
 " And a pleasant place too, according to your 
 account, Squire. I should prefer not to take it." 
 
 " O, don't refuse, for Heaven's sake ! The thing's 
 been in everybody's mouth for years. Not a man, 
 woman, or child within forty miles that hasn't quar- 
 reled it threadbare. There isn't another man in the 
 county but you that we can get the parties agreed 
 on ; for they suppose everybody else committed to one 
 side or the other. If you don't come, we shall never 
 see an end to it, till the millenium." 
 
 " Well, Squire, how long is it since you gentlemen 
 of the law have been so anxious to terminate law- 
 suits? I thought your interest lay in nursing them 
 up to the last minute." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh. We lawyers have to take in hand 
 all the dirty doings of all the rest of you, to prevent 
 your knocking out each other's brains in the streets. 
 We are the moral washerwomen of the commu- 
 nity. Of course we must see that we don't starve. 
 That would be very uncomfortable to us, and a great 
 loss to the public. But our consciences are as good, 
 at least, as the average. Besides, we know better than 
 to kill outright the geese that lay our golden eggs." 
 
 " The geese ought to feel obliged to you for your 
 consideration. But it seems you sometimes employ 
 the geese to settle their own quarrels."
 
 236 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " Certainly, when we find the quarrel is so goose- 
 like that nobody but geese can settle it. But come 
 along, that's a good fellow. We'll make you chief 
 justice of the court." 
 
 " Well, since you place the matter in such a com- 
 plimentary point of view, I don't see but I must." 
 
 The two gentlemen then walked across the bridge, 
 to the office of Mr. Preston, a dingy den over one of 
 the stores, where the Goddess of Justice held her ses- 
 sions for that vicinity. As they approached, they 
 found the contiguous corners and street sprinkled with 
 a promiscuous crowd, gathered by business or curiosity 
 from a circle of some miles about the village. 
 
 In the days of the good old rule 
 
 " That he should take that has the power, 
 And he should keep who can," 
 
 men settled their petty differences mainly by hard 
 knocks. As civilization -and social order get the bet- 
 ter of violence and force, law supersedes the natural 
 remedies of fist and knife, for real or supposed injuries. 
 In course of time, knowledge and refinement do much 
 to repress litigation. Men find out that quarreling is 
 alike troublesome and unprofitable. But the ruder 
 stages of society are generally litigious. The pugnac- 
 ity and disposition to seek immediate reparation or 
 vengeance for a wrong, inherent in human nature, 
 have not yet been tamed down to social courtesy. 
 Rough and uneducated men, if they do not take the 
 law into their own hands, are very apt, at least, to 
 keep their hands in the law ; and make as prompt and 
 eager use of the milder means of offense and defense 
 
 O 
 
 still left to them, as they would of their own brawny 
 arms and boisterous passions, if they were freed from 
 the restrictions of civic order. Merrifield, like most
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 237 
 
 frontier places, exemplified this fact to a considerable 
 extent. The justice of the peace and the lawyers 
 found large occupation in adjusting the petty dissen- 
 sions and pecuniary entanglements of the neighbor- 
 hood. Upon every Saturday, these dignitaries held a 
 court-leet, with such special intermediate sessions as 
 extraordinary emergencies might require. But on 
 Saturday, the tenants of the outskirting farms and the 
 inhabitants of the neighboring hamlets poured in to 
 this central point, to see what was going on in the 
 court, if they had no business of their own there, and 
 do up all the errands of the week, treasured and 
 reserved for this particular occasion. It was a general 
 fair day, or, considering the peculiar and prominent 
 features of it, a general foul day for a considerable cir- 
 cle of country. 
 
 As they mingled with the concourse, Butler observed 
 to his companion, but in a tone in which sadness was 
 mingled with the jocoseness that had animated their 
 conversation, 
 
 " Your flock of geese seems pretty large, Mr. 
 Preston." 
 
 " It is indeed," replied the lawyer soberly. " More 
 geese than grass for them, I fear." 
 
 They pushed their way up a steep and narrow stair- 
 case, through the in-goers and out-comers, to the low- 
 browed room in the second story, where proceedings 
 were held. Three fourths of the apartment were 
 crowded with men, many in their shirt-sleeves, seated 
 on wooden benches or standing thickly and confusedly 
 about the floor. At its upper part was a platform, 
 raised a single step, upon which stood a few chairs dis- 
 posed round a long table. The farther end of the 
 table was provided with an arm-chair, appropriated to
 
 238 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 the presiding personage, whoever, for the time, he 
 might be, into which Butler was inducted upon the 
 present occasion. In this portion of the chamber 
 decorum and quiet prevailed, though unaccompanied 
 with any very grave formality. But the audience sat 
 or stood, with hats on or without, smoking, chatting, 
 laughing at each other's jokes, or at any pungent 
 observation or sharp stroke among the legal author- 
 ities, with entire ease and nonchalance. Yet amid all 
 this freedom, the old Anglo-Saxon respect to law and 
 adherence to order were apparent, and not less spon- 
 taneous than the general easy indifference of demeanor. 
 The constable himself, the sole exponent of public 
 authority, stood laughing and jesting with the multi- 
 tude, without the smallest external badge or indication 
 of office. Yet, when Butler intimated that all was 
 ready to proceed to the business on hand, all noise and 
 disorder that could interfere with the graver matters 
 were hushed. The two simple words " Order, gen- 
 tlemen ! " were the only thing necessary. The consta- 
 ble sat down on the edge of the platform, ready to wait 
 upon the court, as required ; and without further cer- 
 emony the trial was commenced. 
 
 Squire Preston rose, and, selecting the writ from a 
 bundle of papers before him, proceeded to read it, 
 mumbling over and compressing into etc., etc.'s its 
 tedious technicalities. 
 
 " And the plaintiff comes, etc., etc., and says that 
 
 on the day of , in the year of our Lord 17 , 
 
 at Merrifield aforesaid, the said defendant did casually 
 find a certain yearling lamb, ram, or sheep of the value 
 of three dollars, to him the said plaintiff belonging, and 
 then and there wrongfully converted the said yearling, 
 lamb, ram, or sheep to his own use," etc., etc., etc.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 239 
 
 The Squire then passed the writ over to the profes- 
 sional gentleman upon the other side, who scrutinized 
 it carefully, but said nothing. Either by virtue of 
 the legal skill of the one, or the equal or greater igno- 
 rance of the mysteries of special pleading on the part 
 of his adversary, the writ seemed unobjectionable. 
 Indeed, its smoky and venerable hue, dogs-eared cor- 
 ners, and rent foldings testified to an experience in hos- 
 tile investigation that might well defy farther attack. 
 It had evidently passed through an ordeal that might 
 be supposed to have laid bare any weak point, if such 
 existed. At any rate, Squire Punchard, though he 
 looked terribly wise at it, didn't venture to impugn it ; 
 and the counsel for the plaintiff went on, uninter- 
 rupted by technical impediment. 
 
 " You are aware, gentlemen referees, that the plain 
 English of this is, that we claim that the defendant, 
 by some means or other, got possession of this animal 
 belonging to my client, and has kept it for his own ben- 
 efit ; and consequently we demand, in this suit, its mar- 
 ket value to be paid us, according to law and equity, 
 with suitable damages. I will not detain you by use- 
 less explanation, but will now lay before you evidence, 
 that we consider indisputable, of the justice of our 
 claim." 
 
 Thereupon he read over a list of some dozen wit- 
 nesses, which he then handed over to the constable. 
 That functionary, who had been discussing a horse- 
 trade, sotto voce, with his next neighbor among the 
 spectators, abstracted himself from his individual inter- 
 ests for a moment, and repeated it with official empha- 
 sis ; and the witnesses ranged themselves in a row be- 
 fore the foot of the table to take the customary oath. 
 William Vail, plaintiff, who was seated beside his coun-
 
 240 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 sel, in all the conscious importance of being one of the 
 two chief personages of the occasion in whose behalf 
 and by whose agency the whole ceremony was insti- 
 tuted, looked at the array with a satisfied smile ; 
 while Squire Preston cast upon them a dignified and 
 confident glance, such as a gdneral might throw along 
 the line of a gallant army by whose prowess he trusted 
 to win an impending battle. On the other hand, Sam 
 Aiken, defendant, viewed them with a scowl half depre- 
 cating, half indignant, as a set of individuals sadly 
 misguided and mistaken, if not liable to graver impu- 
 tations ; while the face of Squire Punchard assumed 
 an expression of lofty pity, as if he saw in them only 
 a rabble rout, about to be annihilated in due time, by 
 his own superior forces and generalship. 
 
 In the midst of all this by-play, the plaintiff's coun- 
 sel called out his leading witness. The sum of his tes- 
 timony was, that in the spring of the year mentioned 
 in the writ, he had seen a certain yearling ram belong- 
 ing to the flock of William Vail, turned out to pasture 
 upon the commons with the rest of his woolly associ- 
 ates, and that in the fall of the same year he saw 
 the same animal in Aiken's barn-yard with his flock, and 
 that he heard him refuse to give him up to Vail, claim- 
 ing him to be his own. There was also testimony as 
 to the mixing up of flocks pasturing on the commons 
 together, the depredations of wolves, and other like 
 contingencies of ovine life in those parts. Having 
 elicited all that the witness knew, and perhaps a little 
 more, Squire Preston blandly turned him over to the 
 tender care of his learned brother; who commenced 
 his cross examination by a slight skirmish upon the 
 details of the testimony, and woun d up with a terrific 
 attack upon the essential question of the identity of 
 the subject of controversy.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 241 
 
 " How did you know the animal you saw in the 
 spring and in the fall, to be the same one ? " 
 
 " Cause I know'd his countenance and the looks on 
 him." 
 
 " How can you tell one sheep from another by its 
 looks ? " 
 
 " Jest as I can tell one lawyer from another by his 
 looks," replied the witness ; whereupon the audi- 
 ence indulged themselves in a titter. " Besides, added ' 
 he, " the ram was marked." 
 
 " In what way was he marked ? " asked the lawyer 
 with solemn earnestness. 
 
 " His right ear was notched ; and he had a V in red 
 paint on his shoulder." 
 
 " Didn't Aiken mark his sheep with an A ? " 
 
 " I believe he did." 
 
 " Well, mightn't a man, who was marking a sheep 
 lying in his lap, very easily make an A upside down, 
 from carelessness, that would look very much like a V 
 when the animal stood up ? " 
 
 " Can't say, never stood the animal upside down 
 to see what the mark would look like. Dare say a 
 man might make a V instead of an A, if he made 
 it upside down, and didn't put no cross to it." 
 
 The bystanders burst into a roar of laughter at this 
 conclusive answer, which compelled the constable to 
 forego his attention to his horse-trade again, in order to 
 shake his finger at the crowd and shout, " Order, order, 
 gentlemen ! " But Squire* Punchard settled himself 
 back in his chair with a complacent air, as if he had 
 effected a practicable breach in the enemy's rampart. 
 If others couldn't see precisely whether he had be- 
 fooled himself or the witness most, he looked as if he 
 had established a point, if ever so small, on which to 
 16
 
 242 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 build an hypothesis, that, if it enlightened nobody, 
 might puzzle, which would do jnst as well. The re- 
 maining witnesses of the plaintiff were then disposed 
 of to about the same purpose, and as many more called 
 up for the defendant. 
 
 These all deposed that they knew the disputed ani- 
 mal well ; that he belonged, as they believed, to Aiken ; 
 that he had both ears slit, whether by the thorns 
 or a jackknife they couldn't say ; and that he was 
 marked in red paint with what they took for an A, 
 although it was much defaced by weather and rub- 
 bing. 
 
 Squire Preston then badgered and bothered them to 
 his own satisfaction and their great annoyance, till 
 there was hardly more left of the ram than a shadowy 
 myth ; and in regard to the mark upon him, the result, 
 as near as could be stated, was that it was either an A 
 or a V, if it was not something else. 
 
 After elaborate arguments on both sides, in which 
 both advocates showed conclusively that their own wit- 
 nesses knew all about the matter, and those opposed 
 nothing at all ; that the ram was marked either with 
 an A or a V, upside down or otherwise, or some other 
 letter or symbol unknown ; that he was the undoubted 
 property of Vail, except that he unquestionably be- 
 longed to Aiken, the case was left with the refer- 
 ees. 
 
 The room was cleared, the audience, lawyers, wit- 
 nesses, constable, and all scattering themselves around, 
 to traffic, chat, and smoke, and especially to sit in long 
 rows on adjacent sticks of timber, till they could hear 
 the conclusion of this long-disputed case. 
 
 Butler sat for a moment ruefully eying his minutes 
 of the evidence, with the piles of like rubbish that had
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 243 
 
 accumulated in previous trials ; then, turning to his 
 right-hand associate, asked, laughing, 
 
 " Well, sir, what do you think of this lucid and per- 
 spicuous affair ? " 
 
 " I think ? I don't mean to think any more about 
 it. As to whose or what that ram was, bless me if I 
 know ! " 
 
 " And you ? " said Butler, turning to the other 
 side. 
 
 " I don't think his own mother would ever know 
 him now." 
 
 " I certainly must say, for my part, that he is utterly 
 incomprehensible to me," replied Butler. " But he 
 should have been born with a golden fleece to pay his 
 way. The only fact I can come at is that here are 
 two foolish men who have nearly ruined themselves, 
 and are bent on doing it altogether, in a quarrel per- 
 fectly interminable ; and I think it is our duty to put 
 a stop to it. No human being can ever come at any 
 reasonable conclusion from these papers ; and I propose 
 that we burn them up, and set the thing at rest." 
 
 Butler's coadjutors stared, at first, at this novel and 
 summary way of settling a lawsuit *' But have we any 
 ricrht to do it?" asked one. 
 
 O 
 
 " Right ? no, not legally. It is only our duty as 
 Christian men, and that's right enough. As for the 
 pecuniary responsibility, I will take that upon myself, 
 if you, gentlemen, will support me by your concur- 
 rence." 
 
 The matter was soon agreed upon ; and the two 
 huge bundles of documents were placed in separate 
 corners of the fire-place, with a lighted match under 
 each, and speedily reduced to black heaps of cinders. 
 The expectant crowd were then notified that they
 
 244 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 might be admitted, and came pouring in all agape to 
 know what decision had been made of this knotty con- 
 troversy. The two lawyers, with looks of impatient 
 curiosity, resumed their chairs, and their clients sat 
 down by them, absorbed in anxious eagerness. 
 
 Squire Preston threw a wondering glance over the 
 bared table, and hazarded a question : 
 
 " Have you made your decision, Mr. Chairman? " 
 
 " We have settled the matter, I hope," replied 
 Butler, with a meaning smile. " We have been ut- 
 terly unable," continued he, addressing the expectant 
 principals, " to determine to which of you this animal 
 belonged, if, indeed, he belonged to either. All we 
 can do is to return each of you his papers, with our 
 earnest advice to let the matter rest here. Vail, 
 those on the right hand of the fire-place are yours, 
 and those on the left are yours, Aiken. We have put 
 them in better order for you than they have been for 
 many a day, as we hope you will be satisfied upon re- 
 flection." 
 
 All present turned and stared a moment at the sac- 
 rificial hearth. As the idea made its way into their 
 heads, the spectators burst into a tumultuous roar of 
 merriment, and with laugh and joke rushed down into 
 the street to inform the outside public how this Gor- 
 dian knot had been cut at last. 
 
 The lawyers, with their clients, were left alone with 
 the referees. Squire Preston glanced with a comical 
 air of mingled approbation and remonstrance from the 
 heaps of cinders to the bold innovators upon the rules 
 of practice ; Squire Punchard looked decidedly glum. 
 But just then a cheer was heard under the windows : 
 " Hurra for Judge Butler ! " Preston's jolly face 
 relaxed, at the sound, into a broad grin ; and he drove
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 245 
 
 his elbow vigorously into the face of his client, who 
 was twitching at his coat-sleeve, with an admonitory 
 " Keep still, you fool ! " and said to Butler, 
 
 " Well, Judge, if we take any exceptions, I suppose 
 it will be a contempt of court. So I submit. What 
 do you say, Brother Punchard ? " 
 
 Brother Punchard had by this time softened down 
 to a state of calmer appreciation of the position, and, 
 first scowling down his still belligerent client, as his 
 antagonist had been obliged to do with his constituent, 
 replied with a hearty laugh, 
 
 " As the Court has seen fit to issue a writ of fiery 
 facias, I don't see that there is anything to be said." 
 
 " Then, Vail and Aiken," said Butler, " you just shake 
 hands with each other, and settle this quarrel forever ; 
 and I'll give you each two sheep out of my own flock, 
 and you may come and pick them out when you 
 please."
 
 246 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 NOTHING further occurred during the aiitumn of 
 much import to the inhabitants of Merrifield. When 
 winter brought more leisure with it, Shirk followed out 
 eagerly the plan proposed by Butler, and proved an 
 assiduous scholar. The ardent desire that he felt to 
 improve himself, was strengthened by the wish to 
 please his instructor. He almost worshipped Butler, 
 and was prouder of being his favored pupil than he 
 would have been to be prime minister to a king. 
 Sam, indeed, was fairly inspired, as a melodious Cam- 
 panian herdsman might have been, had the god Pan 
 presented him with his own divine pipes, and taught 
 him his own supernal harmonies. 
 
 Butler's new house was nearly finished ; and al- 
 though he had determined to keep the household in 
 their old quarters for the winter, he had furnished 
 one room, which was intended for his own private use. 
 It was there that he and Shirk generally spent their 
 winter afternoons. The comfortable arm-chairs, hand- 
 some carpet, shelves of books, walls hung with a few 
 choice engravings, the mantel clock, and other won- 
 ders brought from the metropolis, made this apart- 
 ment fairy-land to Sam. It also suited Watch very 
 well, who, in consideration of his old age, was allowed 
 to stretch himself upon the rug before the fire when 
 he pleased ; where he generally assisted with grave
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 247 
 
 decorum at the studies or conversations of his biped 
 friends. 
 
 One afternoon, after two or three hours of study, 
 Butler laid down his book, drew his chair to the fire, 
 lighted a cigar, and said to his pupil : " Come, Sam, 
 we have done pretty well to-day. Turn round to the 
 fire, and take a cigar, or light your pipe, if you prefer. 
 I feel chatty." 
 
 Shirk readily complied with the proposition ; and, 
 when everything was comfortably arranged, his young 
 patron went on : 
 
 " You have done admirably so far, Sam. You can 
 now read and write tolerably, and you understand and 
 enjoy the books I lend you. But I observe you don't 
 speak much more accurately than you used to." 
 
 " I know it, and I've worried about it myself. But 
 somehow the English in the books seems to be a differ- 
 ent language from what I've talked all my life. The 
 folks at home, and most of 'em round the village, talk 
 just as I do ; and it comes hard to me to do any dif- 
 ferent, even when I know better. Besides, if I under- 
 take to talk as you do, most folks would think I was 
 gettin' consated, and thought I know'd more than they 
 do, and I shouldn't like that. It would be a sort of 
 mean." 
 
 " I can understand that, and it's not altogether 
 wrong. Still I should advise you to try to correct 
 your inaccuracies gradually. Talk as simply as you 
 please, but talk good grammar. We must always try 
 to say and do what we know is right and proper. 
 There is no danger of doing too well in this world." 
 
 " No, sir, that there an't. I begin to see now what 
 you meant when you told me I might study a hun- 
 dred years, and yet have plenty to learn."
 
 248 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 Butler smiled, but made no reply, and, lapsing into 
 a thoughtful mood, sat looking silently into the fire. 
 His pupil, respecting his evident abstraction, also oc- 
 cupied himself with his own thoughts for a while. 
 But, after a long silence, he arose, shook out the ashes 
 of his pipe upon the hearth, and presently sat down 
 again. But he fidgeted in his chair, evidently ner- 
 vous and restless. At length he looked up, and said 
 in a timid tone : " Mr. James," 
 
 Butler's attention was instantly aroused ; for he 
 knew that some unusually imposing idea was exercis- 
 ing Sam's mind, when he resumed his old ceremonious 
 style of address. He turned his head directly towards 
 his companion ; but only replied with " Well." 
 
 u I went up country a piece, yesterday," resumed 
 Sam, with a still embarrassed manner. " I hope you 
 won't be angry ; " and then stopped short again. 
 
 " Angry ! " repeated Butler with surprise ; " what 
 should I have to do with it, Sam ? " 
 
 " O sir ! promise me not to be angry with me ! I 
 don't know what I should do if you were ; but I 
 stopped at Mr. Wilmot's." 
 
 " Well, what of that? " replied Butler, with assumed 
 indifference, but evident curiosity and interest. 
 
 " O James, don't think I'm impertinent. I don't 
 know as I had any right to meddle ; but I can't help 
 seeing. I know'd you and Miss Mary when you used 
 to play together ; and I know'd you liked each other. 
 I always thought you was born to. But somehow a 
 sort of a cloud like's come between you ; and it's been 
 a worryin' me to death. It's a shame. You an't an- 
 gry, are you ? " he asked, looking in a half-frightened, 
 beseeching manner into his friend's now animated 
 face.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 249 
 
 " No, Sam. I know, whatever you've done, that 
 you meant well. Now tell me what you've been 
 about, and just as it was too." 
 
 Sam proceeded with his story, with a bright look of 
 encouragement. 
 
 " Well, I made an errand to Mr. Wilmot's, as if 
 I was hungry ; though I had plenty in my pocket, and 
 had killed a deer besides. I cut off a hind-quarter, 
 and carried it to Mrs. Wilmot, and asked her for some 
 dinner. They'd all done, for 'twas after one o'clock ; 
 but Miss Mary, she sot the table and fixed me some 
 dinner. Her mother went off about somethin', and 
 Mary sot and talked with me, like a lady as she is, 
 every inch of her. I made believes eat, but I couldn't 
 'a made a real meal, if I'd know'd I shouldn't see any- 
 thing more for a year, for I was chock-full of some- 
 thing else. So, after a while, says I, * Miss Mar}', they 
 do say you are goin' to live at Kennebec.' She turned 
 all red and then white agin ; and says she, in a pitiful 
 but sharp kind o' way, ' People say a great many 
 things they know nothing about, Sam.' O, I wish 
 you'd a been there ! for, as soon as I heerd her, I 
 know'd right off the story about that etarnal young 
 minister was all in your eye. So I went on, and says 
 I, * I'm glad 'tan't true, Miss Mary. I should be sorry 
 you went away from Merrifield ; it's goin' to be some- 
 thin' of a place now. Mr. Butler's come back, and 
 says he means to live there, and has built him a new 
 house ; ' and then I stopped a minute to see what 
 she'd say. But she turned pale as death, and only 
 squeezed out ' yes,' so faint-like I could hardly hear it. 
 Then I went on, and told her all you and your mother 'd 
 been doin' for me, and how you let me come here 
 every day and study with you, and all about it. She
 
 250 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 never said a word, but sot swallerin' down her heart all 
 the time, till at last she burst out a cryin' and run 
 out of the room. I wanted to cry too then, though 
 I never was so glad in my life. Well, I sot awhile, 
 but she didn't come back ; so I thought I'd be off, and 
 took my rifle and started. But, jest as I got to the 
 door, she came out of t'other room ; and says she, 
 ' Are you going, Sam ? I hope you've had dinner 
 enough.' ' Plenty,' says I, ' thank you ; ' and made to 
 open the outer door. But she grabbed my hand, and 
 says she, all pale and cryin' agin, ' O Mr. Shirk ! don't 
 tell anybody you saw me cryin'. I should feel 
 ashamed of myself.' I bid her good-by, and promised 
 I wouldn't. And I've told a darned lie, and I'll tell a 
 thousand sooner than you shouldn't know all about 
 it." 
 
 Sam, who had not dared to look Butler in the face 
 while he was talking, now looked up, and as he saw 
 the warm flush that covered James's features, and the 
 joyous expression of his eye, felt at ease once more. 
 
 " I'll forgive you for the lie, Sam ; and perhaps 
 Mary will by and by." 
 
 " I'll bet she will ! " and, tossing his cap up to the 
 ceiling and catching it as it fell, he rushed out of 
 the room, shouting, " Hurra, hurra ! It's all right, I 
 know'd it was." 
 
 But Butler called him back, and said, with a sly 
 smile : " Sam, I can't forgive your falsehood, except 
 on one condition. You must not tell a word of this 
 to anybody else, mind, not a word to anybody." 
 
 " Mayn't I tell Jenny ? " said Sam, pleadingly. 
 " Thunder ! I shall burst if I can't tell nobody." 
 
 " Not a soul, Sam. If you do, I'll never forgive 
 vou."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 251 
 
 " O Lord ! well, I won't tell a soul, and I'll tell no 
 lie this time," and off he went, singing and whistling 
 like mad. 
 
 After his departure Butler sat himself down before 
 the fire, and went over the whole recital, over and over 
 again. It seemed to be plain enough, though he almost 
 feared to believe it. " Now see," thought he, " what 
 a little common sense and plain dealing might have 
 done ! This honest fellow has come straight at the 
 truth, while I have been sitting in the dark, quarreling 
 with goblins of my own creation. But I will be a fool 
 no longer. I'll know all about it to-morrow." Thus 
 he sat with his heart full of happy hopes and bright 
 schemes for the future, crossed occasionally by slight 
 misgivings lest, after all, there might be some mistake, 
 until Betsey came in to summon him to tea. 
 
 " James," said his mother, at the tea-table, " what 
 was the matter with Sam this afternoon ? He came 
 in and left a quarter of a deer that he said he killed up 
 in the woods yesterday ; and he seemed to be be- 
 witched. He talked so queer that I was afraid he had 
 been drinking." 
 
 " O no, mother, Sam's sober as a judge. But what 
 did he say ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I declare. He didn't say anything 
 that I can remember. But he seemed chock-full of 
 something." 
 
 " Sam's all right. He came in to me from here ; and 
 he said nothing that you would find fault with, I'm 
 sure." 
 
 " Well, you're acting just like him, James. What 
 makes you look so sly ? You and he are getting up 
 some prank. You're in a regular tantrum, James." 
 
 " I in a tantrum, mother ! and I to be a deacon one
 
 252 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 of these days ! If Sam and I play any prank, it will 
 not be anything that will vex you, I assure you, 
 mother." 
 
 " Well, you young men are wild creatures." 
 
 " O no, only on suitable occasions," replied Butler, 
 laughing. " We can be very exemplary at times, as 
 I hope to convince you before long." 
 
 " I don't find any fault ' with you, my son ; but you 
 love to puzzle me sometimes." 
 
 " I am more bent on unriddling a puzzle just now, 
 dear mother, than on getting up one. If I make any 
 pleasant discoveries, be sure you shall know; them." 
 
 The next morning, after breakfast, James ordered 
 his horse and rode off, saying to his mother that he 
 might not be back till evening. She asked no ques- 
 tions, though she saw something was in the wind. 
 But neither her perspicacity nor energy sufficed to fur- 
 nish even a probable guess ; so she sat down to her 
 needle-work in that patient wonderment that filled up 
 so much of her existence. 
 
 Meanwhile, James urged his good horse over the 
 rough, snowy road towards Mr. Wilmot's. The diffi- 
 culties of the way consumed two hours of impatient 
 struggle, before he reined him up, sweating and panting, 
 before the door. Mr. Wilmot shook his hand cordially, 
 and, calling his man to take the animal to the stable, 
 conducted him into the house. 
 
 " Well, James," said Mrs. Wilmot, " this is the first 
 visit you have paid us for some months. But I am 
 very glad to see you, notwithstanding." 
 
 Butler reciprocated the welcome, and pleaded rather 
 awkwardly the numerous calls upon his time, ending 
 by a glance towards Mary, who, unable to escape from 
 the room from the suddenness of his arrival, had sunk
 
 A. TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 253 
 
 pale and trembling into a chair by the window, where 
 she attempted to seem busy with her work. At 
 James's look she arose, and, with a faint smile, extended 
 her hand ; but though her lips moved, she did not ar- 
 ticulate a word. James, glancing searchingly into her 
 face for an instant, pressed the offered hand, and said, 
 in a voice to be heard by her alone, " Are you glad 
 to see me too, after so long a time ? " A struggling 
 tear was the only answer, and she extricated her hand 
 from his, and rushed out of the room. Her departure 
 was unnoticed amid the vociferous attentions of the 
 children, which Butler good-naturedly encouraged, in 
 spite of their mother's remonstrances, until he dis- 
 persed the young guerrillas in happy quietude, by the 
 help of some packages of sugar-plums from his pockets. 
 
 After the interchange of numerous friendly inquiries 
 and replies, Mr. Wilmot excused himself, to attend to 
 his out-door concerns, saying, as he went out, " You 
 must stay to dinner, James, at least ; I have much to 
 say to you." His wife too, remarking the absence of 
 her daughter for the first time, made her apologies. 
 
 " I must go and see that you get a decent dinner. 
 Mary must have gone into the kitchen on the same 
 errand. I will send her to entertain you meanwhile." 
 But James had kept a better reckoning of Mary's 
 whereabouts. He went to the outer door, and calling 
 to him her little sister, said to her, nodding his head 
 toward the door of the opposite room, " Go ask Mary 
 if she will take a short walk with me, Sue." After a 
 few minutes, Mary joined him, with her furred cloak 
 upon her shoulders, and her hood drawn close over her 
 face. They walked a short distance in silence, when 
 Butler, gently arresting her steps, turned to his com- 
 panion.
 
 254 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " Mary, have I been acting like a fool ? have you 
 promised to be the wife of any one ? " 
 
 " No," she faintly murmured, and, if she intended 
 to say more, it was drowned in a burst of tears. 
 
 " And, if I ask you to be mine, will you say no ? " 
 
 A pair of happy blue eyes shone out, for an instant, 
 through the dropping tears, and a low voice replied, 
 " O James ! " 
 
 The answer certainly was not very explicit ; but 
 Butler seemed to understand it perfectly, for he gath- 
 ered her to his bosom, where all ambiguity was ex- 
 plained in a language intelligible wherever love is. 
 They hid themselves and their happiness deeper yet 
 in the little glade of firs, within the edge of which 
 they were standing ; and there, seated on a fallen log, 
 with the bright March sun showering its warmth around, 
 and the soft south wind whispering its benison among 
 the spiry tops above them, they spent in sweet retro- 
 spection and sweeter anticipations one of those hours 
 as rare, alas, as they are blest. For inexorable time 
 is always scowling grudgingly at the bright things 
 of earth, that only lack immortality to make it heaven. 
 A bell, rung at the door of the cottage, summoned 
 them from their peculiar paradise ; and closing the fond 
 colloquy in the same delicious language in which it was 
 begun, they rejoined their friends at the dinner-table. 
 
 Mrs. Wilmot looked up at the young people as they 
 entered ; and read, instantly, in the daughter's eyes, 
 what had been the employment of their absence. She 
 smiled softly in return to Mary's hurried glance, and 
 said nothing. But her father, with masculine direct- 
 ness, called out from the head of the table, " Well, 
 Mary girl, have you and James been strolling in the 
 woods, as you used to do years ago? You haven't
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 255 
 
 looked so rosy and like yourself since you came home. 
 I hope you have earned a good appetite." Mary did 
 not stop to answer her father, but rushed away, blush- 
 ing, to take off her cloak and hood ; and it was some 
 time before she returned, composed, but radiant with 
 quiet happiness. 
 
 An hour passed after dinner in varied chat, when 
 James declared, in spite of earnest solicitation, that he 
 must start for home. While the children ran off with 
 their father to see the noble bay bridled and saddled, 
 Mrs. Wilmot discreetly left the lovers alone again for 
 some moments. 
 
 " Now, dear Mary," said James, " there will be no 
 more clouds between us and happiness. I shall not 
 be able to see you again for a week or more, I am 
 afraid ; but I will come up as soon as I can, and 
 mother will want you to go back with me, and finish 
 the visit you began last August." 
 
 " O James, never speak of that wretched time 
 again ! " 
 
 The arrival of the horse, with Mary's eldest brother, 
 perched as grand as a field-marshal upon the saddle, 
 and quarreling with his father's careful supervision, 
 interrupted them once more. What was left unsaid, 
 was necessarily compressed into a single word of that 
 mysterious tongue to which we have already alluded : 
 and James rode light-hearted homeward. 
 
 ' " Now, mother," said he, as he sat down to the tea- 
 table, which he found awaiting his arrival, " I have 
 a puzzle for you that will please you. Mary Wilmot 
 is not engaged to the Kennebec minister ; but she is 
 engaged nevertheless." 
 
 The good lady, we know, was no (Edipus ; and she 
 stared at her son, as if all the sphinxes of antiquity 
 stood between them on the tea-table.
 
 256 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " Mary Wilmot is not engaged to her cousin, and 
 yet she is engaged to him ! how can that be, my 
 son?" 
 
 " I didn't say precisely that, mother. She is not 
 engaged to him, but she is engaged to guess, mother ! 
 Well, to me." 
 
 His mother looked, for a minute, as if one of the 
 imaginary sphinxes threatened to swallow her ; then 
 she toddled round to her son, and fell upon his neck, 
 sobbing with surprise and joy. When the unusual 
 emotion allowed her to speak, she asked with wonted 
 simplicity, 
 
 " How did you find out all that, James? " 
 
 " She told me herself, mother. So you may depend 
 upon it, it's all correct.'
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 UNDER Butler's judicious and kindly supervision, 
 time had passed away profitably for Sam Shirk, not- 
 withstanding Deacon Hardy's sinister predictions. 
 His barn was full, his cellar was full, and his head was 
 full of new ideas and new hopes. When winter had 
 brought a cessation of farming processes, the labor of 
 his coadjutor was quite sufficient to provide for all the 
 necessary wants of the household. 
 
 McKim was one of those plodding bodies that lived 
 only to travel a daily round, out of which, he had no 
 tastes or inclinations to gratify. To work when he had 
 anything to do, and to do nothing when the work was 
 finished, completed the narrow sphere of his existence. 
 He was one of those human machines that drudge 
 on unflinchingly while the steam is let on, but when 
 work hours are over, and the fires put out for the day, 
 subside in an instant into an inert and motionless 
 quiet. 
 
 His junior partner was just the reverse of all this. 
 He would not work, if he could conscientiously help it ; 
 and the moment he could reasonably leave off, he was 
 full of a thousand schemes wherewith to relieve the 
 monotony of his compulsory industry. The result of 
 their different temperaments was an admirable har- 
 mony of movement in the internal economy of their 
 joint concerns. Sam would patiently drudge along 
 17
 
 258 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with his father-in-law, while matters imperiously re- 
 quired exertion, allowing him, we must acknowledge, 
 as large a share of the common toil as he was inclined 
 to assume. When the hour of leisure arrived, the old 
 man sat himself down with his pipe, in the chimney- 
 corner or on a log out of doors, ready to bring wood 
 and water or meet any other trifling emergency that 
 might occur ; while Sam directly sought relaxation, by 
 what he termed "getting up some kind of a slant," or, 
 if any very piquant amusement was on hand, " a regu- 
 lar time." 
 
 The forest being the usual scene of Shirk's recrea- 
 tion, his play was hardly less profitable than his sen- 
 ior's more systematic motions. Seldom was the larder 
 without a fat partridge or a jolly haunch of venison, 
 whenever Sam could find time to get a stroll in the 
 woods. In his idle days such employment had been 
 habitual to him ; for, in his laziest mood, he never re- 
 garded a tramp of forty or fifty miles for his own pleas- 
 ure as a hardship, though an hour's work upon com- 
 pulsion might have gone against his grain. Moreover, 
 Sam was a perfect sportsman. He knew, as well as 
 any man, where to find his game, and how to catch it. 
 The bodily labor undergone in sporting, to men of such 
 a stamp, is a very different thing from patient and con- 
 tinuous industry. Indeed, they seem to hate the one 
 very much in proportion as they love the other. So, 
 one fine morning in early March, Shirk took down his 
 rifle from the pegs over the chimney, and, with a sup- 
 ply of provisions and ammunition, started off " a hunt- 
 ing." The newly risen sun shone brightly on the snow, 
 and the vapors hung in light fleecy clouds over the 
 distant ocean, as it sent up its caloric in fog into the 
 colder atmosphere. All ai-ound the horizon else was
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 259 
 
 clear as crystal ; and the air was sharp and bracing. 
 Sam strode vigorously along, singing as he went, in 
 pleasure at his emancipation from bondage. In less 
 than three hours he had crossed the " barrens," where 
 for miles the land lay devoid of any but the most 
 stinted vegetation, and struck into the edge of the for- 
 est that still stretches, almost unbroken, to the St. 
 Lawrence. 
 
 He had not proceeded far from this point when he 
 perceived another pedestrian travelling in the same di- 
 rection along the winding track, whom he soon recog- 
 nized as James Butler. The latter stopped at Sam's 
 hail, and stood leaning upon his rifle till he came up. 
 Shirk paused, before he spoke, to cast a glance of 
 friendly admiration upon Butler. Few men exhibited 
 a fairer picture of manly power and beauty. Tall and 
 slender, but muscular and well developed, his thick 
 frock, lined with otter-skins, displayed to advantage 
 his firm and graceful figure. His fur cap was thrown 
 back from his high forehead ; and his dark waving 
 hair, fresh brown cheek, and hazel eye bright with 
 youthful buoyancy, his clearly cut mouth, whose well- 
 defined and slightly compressed lips expressed both en- 
 ergy and pride, and an aquiline nose with full nostrils 
 breathing of high spirit and daring, composed a mien 
 at once attractive and imposing. While Sam gazed 
 in simple satisfaction at the handsome youth, James 
 responded : 
 
 " You here, Sam ? going to scare the deer round 
 old Humpback, hey ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know but I might before I get back 
 to the Falls. I've been a haulin' up next summer's 
 wood this three weeks back ; and now I'm bound to 
 have a little sport. It does me good to see you in the
 
 260 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 woods again, James. What sport we had with them 
 wolves last fall, didn't we ? When you was a boy, 
 and you an't much more yet in p'int of age, you 
 used to love to go out with me now and then." 
 
 o 
 
 " Indeed I did, Sam. And I feel right pleased to 
 get back among the trees again. I feel more at home 
 here yet than in the towns on the Bay." 
 
 " That's right, by jingo ! Those folks in the towns 
 do nothing but drudge behind counters, and sich likes, 
 all day long. I'd as lief be in jail, and done with it, 
 myself. But I guess you're travelling up this way for 
 more than runs in the woods. You're bound for Mr. 
 Wilmot's, I rather conclude." 
 
 A frank laugh admitted the surmise to be true ; and 
 James, who had not divulged to any but his mother 
 his late visit to Mr. Wilmot's, now told his errand, 
 without reserve, to his unceremonious but respectful 
 companion. 
 
 " Well, that's all right. I was sure it would be. 
 I want to see you and Miss Mary married. It's a 
 handy thing to have a good wife. There's Jenny, 
 saves me a world of trouble, and keeps me as snug as 
 a fox in a woodchuck's hole. Jest look at those mit- 
 tins. I didn't use to have such mittins as them." 
 
 " No, Sam, your worldly affairs have improved 
 decidedly ; and I'm glad you feel the advantage." 
 
 " Yes, it's a sight better, and I hope to improve yet. 
 Your ma'am's been the making of me ; and I shall try 
 to do something, to please her, if nothing else. But 
 that Jem Sharpe, he plagues me some ever since that 
 pig scrape. Did I ever tell you about the pig ? " 
 
 " No, but my mother has," replied James, laughing. 
 
 " O, the old lady did ? and she made it pretty hard 
 agin me, I don't doubt. Never mind, she's a right to ;
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 261 
 
 but I shouldn't like to hear anybody else say much about 
 it. But Jem makes me all the trouble he can ; and I 
 take care that sha'n't be much. He hurts himself 
 most, pretty generally. His works always put me in 
 mind of a story I've heard of a Paddy that went out a 
 gunning one day, and got sight of a red squrril. So he 
 chucks in five or six fingers of powder with a handful 
 of shot on top on't, and blazes away at the squrril, 
 that was crackin' nuts on a log. Bang, bang ! went 
 the gun, and away went Paddy, heels over head, 
 almost stunded to death. Away went the crittur too, 
 chippin', chippin' along the logs a piece, and then turns 
 round to see who's comin'. So Paddy he picked him- 
 self up, and looked at him a spell ; and when he got a 
 little to rights, he begun to think as how he'd come 
 out at the little end of the horn. So says he, * Ah, 
 the divil take ye, ye good-for-nothing varmint ! If 
 you'd been at my eend of the gun, ye'd niver gone off 
 with your bothered chickery, chickery, chirree.' So 
 I think it commonly is with Jim. He won't make 
 much out of me ; I an't at all consarned. It's vexa- 
 tious, for all that." 
 
 " That's a pretty good story, Sam, and a good 
 moral. But what's that? Don't I hear a moose 
 bleating ? " 
 
 " That's what it is, certain sure. Hold on a bit." 
 
 Sam put his fingers to his mouth, and produced a 
 perfect imitation of the strange sound, betwixt a bellow 
 and a bleat, that had attracted their attention. 
 
 " Well done. Now, if he'll answer you, we'll soon 
 beat him up." 
 
 They listened a moment, and the strange sound was 
 heard again. 
 
 " He's about half a mile off," said Shirk. " Most
 
 262 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 likely there's a yard on 'em about here ; for they can't 
 travel far with this crust. It an't hard enough to bear 
 them, though it will hold up you and me. The snow 
 is jest right for a moose-hunt. It's lucky we left the 
 road out yonder to cut across here." 
 
 " They are to windward," replied Butler ; " and if 
 we move carefully, we shall soon find out." 
 
 " Look away yonder, down the swale at that thick 
 cedar swamp. It's about the direction of the call ; and 
 if there's a yard of them, they will be there, I think." 
 
 " I think so too. Let's go that way. I'll keep up 
 the talk with him." 
 
 The sportsmen moved steadily towards the spot 
 designated. Now and then Shirk repeated his call, 
 which was answered with due courtesy by their game ; 
 and it became more and more certain that the re- 
 sponses came from the swamp Butler had pointed out. 
 Having nearly reached the spot, they halted in a thick 
 clump, and listened carefully. 
 
 " If it was a single one, he would have moved 
 before now," whispered Butler. " The sound comes 
 always from the same spot. It must be a yard, and 
 the chap does not like to come out. Look to 
 your priming, Sam, and then we'll creep on till we 
 can see something. We don't need any spectacles to 
 see a moose." 
 
 They now proceeded cautiously forward, dodging 
 from cover to cover, till Sam, who was slightly in 
 advance, halted and signed to Butler to come up 
 where he stood, behind a huge pine. 
 
 " There they are ! " whispered he. 
 
 The horns of one of the stately animals, though not 
 yet full-grown, for the moose, like other deer, sheds 
 his horns annually about the month of November,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 263 
 
 could be seen above a thicket of low birches in their 
 front. They soon saw that a number of them were 
 moving about in the same neighborhood. The large 
 head and heavy muzzle of a male were perfectly visible 
 through an opening among the bushes ; and Shirk lev- 
 elled his gun and fired. The head of the animal disap- 
 pearing at the report, he rushed through the copse-wood, 
 exulting in his supposed success. Butler followed him 
 directly, hoping to obtain a shot at another before the 
 herd had dispersed ; but, as he emerged from the 
 thicket, his attention was occupied in an unexpected 
 manner. The moose was standing at bay in one of 
 the paths trodden out by the herd, the blood dropping 
 from a flesh-wound through the neck, with his eye flash- 
 ing and his forefoot pawing the ground. Rage and 
 pain had converted the inoffensive and timid creature 
 into a furious belligerent. As he saw Butler come up, 
 he dropped his head, made a dash at Shirk, and, taking 
 him up fairly on his horns, started off at full speed. 
 Astonished and alarmed, Butler paused a moment in 
 perplexity. 
 
 " Shirk must be fatally bruised and crippled among 
 the trees, if that furious beast does not gore or trample 
 him to death," thought he. " I must try a nice shot ; 
 and Heaven help my aim this time ! " 
 
 James then dropped upon his knee and took a care- 
 ful aim along the barrel of his rifle. The moose had 
 already attained a distance of more than a hundred 
 yards. Still Butler hesitated to pull the trigger. 
 Although his heavy burden did not seem to diminish 
 the speed of the animal in the least, it compelled him 
 to carry his head horizontally, instead of thrown 
 upward and back, as is their wont. The body of Sam 
 and the head and body of the deer offered, therefore,
 
 264 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 one straight line, when seen from behind. The fearful 
 proximity of the human form to the range of his rifle 
 appalled Butler, and his hand shook with agitation. 
 The moose was now rushing directly for a close and 
 heavy growth of large trees, among which it was 
 apparent that a person in Sam's situation must be 
 almost immediately maimed, if not destroyed by a hid- 
 eous and painful death. 
 
 " Better be shot than that," said Butler to himself. 
 " I must do my best, and trust it to Providence." 
 
 Steadying himself by a severe effort, he took a quick 
 but careful aim, and fired. His ball struck precisely 
 as he wished, under the fore shoulder of the moose, and 
 brought him to the ground. Sam was pitched off sev- 
 eral yards in the fall, while the deer lay disabled and 
 helpless. 
 
 James hardly dared look through the smoke to see 
 the effect of his shot ; but as he perceived the fortunate 
 result, " Thank God ! " he exclaimed, " I have done 
 it." Before he could rise and get fairly on his way, 
 he was relieved from all anxiety, by seeing Sam upon 
 his feet and approaching his fallen enemy from the 
 other side. When Butler came up, Sam had cut the 
 animal's throat, and then, at his leisure shaking his fist 
 at his huge head, apostrophized him in the following 
 speech : 
 
 " You bloody scamp you, who told you I wanted a 
 ride, free gratis, for nothing ? " 
 
 " Why, Sam, I think you have no reason to complain. 
 You've got no harm but a fright ; and this poor beast 
 is paying dearly enough for that." 
 
 " No, I won't grumble. But if it wa'n't for that 
 handsome shot of yours, I might have been pounded 
 into a jelly or torn into shoe-strings by this time."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 265 
 
 " What sort of a cradle did the old fellow's horns 
 make, Sam ? " 
 
 " Why, not so awful bad. It would have been 
 worse if they had been full-grown. A pillow or two 
 would have improved it, anyhow. And just look, at 
 my frock ; it is torn clean in halves. Blast him ! he 
 scooped me up just as a boy takes up a lump of sugar 
 in 'a spoon. I wonder what Jenny will say about that 
 coat ; it's bran new, and an all-fired good one." 
 
 " I guess Jenny '11 say you don't know how to keep 
 out of mischief. You were careless, Sam. A moose 
 isn't to be played with very safely, when his temper is 
 up. I think, that for an old hunter, you were very 
 stupid to stand gaping at one with an empty gun, and 
 not a tree near you to dodge behind." 
 
 " Well, it rather looks like it. I must own up, I 
 suppose. But what's to be done with my horned horse 
 here ? " 
 
 " I think we must leave him, and get Mr. Wilmot 
 to send out a hand-sled and bring him there. It's but 
 a few miles off." 
 
 " Can't do better. He's too heavy for us to manage, 
 altogether. Let them take what they want ; and if we 
 can get a chance to send part of him down to-morrow, 
 we can do it." 
 
 " Let us examine a little, Sam, before we start. 
 I've a notion of looking in on this drove again, a day 
 or two hence. There's a large herd of them. See 
 their paths ! they are trodden as hard as the highway. 
 They make a great circuit too.'' 
 
 " That's so. And thev're safe enough while the 
 
 * O 
 
 snow is deep, and there's a good three foot of it here 
 in the woods yet. They wont stir, at least while this 
 crust lasts. It would cut their shins up as bad as a
 
 266 SAM S 
 
 knife. They can't travel in it far. Bob Riley went 
 out yesterday afore breakfast, and found a yard of deer 
 about two miles from his house, with thirteen in it. 
 lie cut the throats of the whole lot with his pocket- 
 knife, just as if they'd been sheep in a barn-yard. 
 They jumped out into the deep snow, one after another, 
 as he came up to 'em, and went down through up to 
 their bellies, so that they couldn't lift a leg through 
 the crust, no more than if they'd been planted in the 
 ground." 
 
 " That's too much like butchering, Sam. I like to 
 give everything a chance. Let a deer have his legs 
 and his horns against our arms and rifles, and it seems 
 something like fair play. I don't know that the differ- 
 ence is really much ; but I wouldn't murder them in 
 cold blood, when they could neither run nor fight." 
 
 The two now inspected the spot around them, and 
 soon satisfied themselves that their conjectures were 
 correct. They found a large space of forest intersected 
 with paths in all directions, beaten hard by the constant 
 passage of the animals. The boughs of the young 
 trees were nibbled off everywhere within reach, the 
 yard having probably been occupied by them ever 
 since the snow had accumulated to a depth sufficient 
 to render moving about laborious. According to the 
 habit of their species, they had remained together 
 within the space comprehended by the labyrinth of 
 tracks which they had made and kept open, in their 
 daily search for the small twigs of the trees and bushes 
 upon which they subsist when the surface of the ground 
 is buried under its wintry covering. The extent, 
 number, and hardness of the beats, with the damage 
 inflicted by their browsing upon the spray of the 
 smaller growth, proved the herd to be numerous.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 267 
 
 Having noted the situation and character of the ground 
 sufficiently to guide any future operations, the travel- 
 lers turned to regain their road. 
 
 O 
 
 It was not long before they reached the point where 
 Butler's destination led him into a direction divergent 
 from that of his companion ; and they halted for a mo- 
 ment to take leave of each other. 
 
 "Here's the path to Mr. Wilmot's," said Shirk. 
 " Now good luck to you, James. Miss Maiy's a nice 
 girl ; she an't like some of 'em, not got wit enough to 
 last 'em over night ; and she's none too good for James 
 Butler neither. I'll just look round old Humpback, 
 and I guess I'll be along time enough to go down with 
 you to-morrow, for I don't mean to camp a great ways 
 out. What time will you be starting for the Falls ? " 
 
 " Bright and early, I think. It's a long walk, you 
 know r , for a woman, and we can't ride. A horse 
 couldn't get along at all. So be about here early in 
 the forenoon, and we shall probably meet." 
 
 " Well, I'll make my calculations according. I 
 should like to keep you and Mary company down. So 
 good-day." 
 
 Less than an hour's walk brought Butler to the 
 homestead of Mary Wilmot's father. A field had 
 been felled and cleared in the bosom of the dense for- 
 est, and now stood, like a solitary square upon a huge 
 checker-board, surrounded by its walls of lofty trees, 
 in strong relief from the rest of the landscape. 
 Sparkling with the rays of the winter sun gleaming 
 upon its snowy surface, as one emerged into the open- 
 ing and glanced around at the deep, shadowy bordei 
 that encompassed it everywhere, it seemed like step- 
 ping out of one world into another. And so indeed it 
 was. One foot of the traveller rested within the un-
 
 268 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 disturbed limits of Nature's empire, while tlie other 
 fell upon the domain of man. Behind, lay hill and val- 
 ley, brook and river, moss and stone, land and wood, 
 as they came from the hand of the Creator ; unchanged 
 in the whole, though silent and powerful instruments 
 were constantly displacing and renewing every part. 
 Not a trace was to be found, in all that quiet and sol- 
 emn scene, of active and apparent agency. The fallen 
 trunk mouldered away in solitude and dim silence; and 
 equally noiselessly and imperceptibly the sapling rose, 
 out of its decay, into the majestic proportions of its 
 predecessor. The brooks ran on in shadow, and the 
 river glistened in the light that penetrated here and 
 there to its secluded bosom, as they had done from the 
 birth of time : apt emblems of all around, always 
 the same to the sense, yet continually changing in every 
 particle ; continually passing away, and continually 
 renewed. , 
 
 Before, spread the picture of man's activity, where, 
 upon a limited space, human toil and care had 
 moulded the scene to their own purposes ; banishing the 
 lone and melancholy grandeur of Nature for the bus- 
 tle and the changes, the shift and restlessness, of civil- 
 ization. Behind, lay a world of unbroken monotony. 
 Before, was an ant-hill, teeming with life and eager 
 with anxious devices, with the instruments and the 
 results of labor visible everywhere around. 
 
 With a hurried step, the youth crossed the clearing, 
 threading his way along the path that wound among 
 the blackened stumps that protruded from the snow. 
 
 Mr. Wilmot's dwelling was a simple log-house, 
 though larger and more commodiously finished than 
 the ordinary. But within it, luxury was necessarily 
 unknown, and mere taste little regarded. In the infant
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 269 
 
 stages of a settlement, it tasks the industry of the pio- 
 neer of civilization severely, for a while, to procure 
 even the necessaries of life. The rich and poor are, 
 in such cases, nearly on a level ; for it is impossible to 
 transport the elegancies of refinement into such situa- 
 tion!, even where the means exist of procuring them. 
 Hence the cradles of our towns and villages are hum- 
 ble and rude. But as grass lands and harvests succeed 
 
 O 
 
 the forest and the blackened and sooty clearing, roads 
 are formed, and cattle stray where the bear and wolf 
 have roamed ; and neat homes and well-appointed 
 households take the place of the rough arrangements 
 that meet the primary necessities of existence. 
 
 As her father had lately left a more cultivated region, 
 and was abundantly able to procure for his family all 
 that circumstances allowed, Mary Wihuot was by no 
 means uneducated or vulgar, though her home was 
 in the heart of the wilderness. She was modest and 
 unpretending, and her manners simple, but refined. 
 Above want or the need of subserviency, a native dig- 
 nity was apparent through her simplicity. Natural 
 politeness and grace were the necessary results of a 
 good heart and mind, unchecked by any feeling of in- 
 feriority, yet devoid of the hauteur of birth and fash- 
 ionable pride. Cheerful mirth beamed from her quiet 
 blue eye ; and the bright forehead that shone beneath 
 her dark hair, the cheek where the wild rose dwelt in 
 health and beauty, the expressive mouth and intelli- 
 gent countenance, all spoke of womanly worth, sweet- 
 ness, and purity, though untuned to courtly phrase and 
 unshapen by the arbitrament of fashion. A gentle 
 voice and a sweet smile completed in her a lovely and 
 attractive personality. 
 
 As Butler approached the dwelling, the young girl
 
 270 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 we have just sketched came out from the door of the 
 rough building that sheltered the domestic animals of 
 the farm, with the milk-pail in her hand ; for she had 
 never learned that to be useful was any derogation 
 from the character of a lady. The bright apparition 
 attracted the young man's eye immediately ; and his 
 hasty step, changing its direction, soon placed him at 
 her side. 
 
 The long intimacy and perfect confidence now 
 happily reestablished between the lovers, perhaps di- 
 vested their intercourse of something of the restless ro- 
 mance of a less assured attachment ; but, in the eager 
 and burning glance of the youth and the downcast 
 but happy expression of the maiden, it was easy to 
 read that both were wrapt in that glowing and deli- 
 cious dream which youth and passion can lend to life 
 but once, the absorbing, all-controlling rush and con- 
 centration of feeling which, once over, can never be 
 recalled ; but is gradually softened to a more sober and 
 worldly happiness, or doomed to sadden into disap- 
 pointment and apathy. Engrossed with the joy of 
 meeting, their hearts were their world, and for exter- 
 nal things they had neither eye nor thought. 
 
 Alas ! that other and contaminated influences should 
 always await those who pass the threshold of life, 
 that clouds should gather in the sunny sky of the 
 inexperienced, that trouble and anxiety should distill, 
 drop by drop, into the cup, turning the sparkling 
 draught into bitterness ! It is a glorious but brief de- 
 lusion that ushers us into the uncertain and wayward 
 paths of manhood. Happy is he who can carry within 
 his breast, living and warm, even a feeble glimmering 
 of his early hopes, and bear about with him a remnant 
 of the buoyancy and confidence of youth, to be a talis-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 271 
 
 man against disappointment and vexation, and a cordial 
 to cheer the fainting spirit in the midst of vicissitude 
 and woe. But the gladsome season when two young 
 and pure hearts worship in trustful affection, being to 
 themselves the shrine and the sweet incense, pre- 
 cious, golden hours of undimmed faith, how short is 
 your promised eternity ! Fidelity and unwavering trust 
 may, indeed, be a sure and welcome staff to our weary 
 steps, as we advance upon our pilgrimage ; but where 
 are the roseate garlands that wreathed it, where 
 the Promethean fire that sparkled from the boy-god's 
 pinions ? 
 
 But few moments were allowed the lovers to indulge 
 undisturbed the feelings that held them entranced. 
 The guest soon attracted the attention of the younger 
 population of the house ; and they dragged the pair in 
 among them, emulating with their boisterous welcome 
 the loud barking with which honest Sancho hailed 
 James's well-known face. Here Butler met a more 
 sedate, but not less cordial reception, and was soon 
 seated quietly by Mary's side, answering the inquiries 
 of Mr. Wilmot respecting the far-off scenes of the 
 metropolis, while the children stood gaping round, as 
 if he were returned from the Pyramids or the sources 
 of the Nile. Railroads and steamers had not yet lent 
 their aid to locomotion, and a journey to Boston was 
 an event of no small moment. Huge logs were piled 
 into the fire-place, that yawned like a cave on one side 
 of the room ; while the curiosity of the elders and the 
 wonder of the small fry were abundantly fed by But- 
 ler's patient responses. The farmer repaid his guest 
 by discussions of the weather, dissertations upon crops, 
 and shrewd remarks, moral, political, and philosophical, 
 upon the topics suggested by the conversation. Be-
 
 272 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 fore the family parted for the night, it was settled that 
 Mary should accompany her lover on the morrow to 
 the village, and that her family should, within a week 
 or two, also come down to grace her wedding. 
 
 All laid their heads upon their pillows in content 
 and happiness ; and early morning found them assem- 
 bled at the breakfast-table. The meal over, the affi- 
 anced pair set out upon their walk. The distance 
 would have been sufficiently alarming to a city miss, 
 being not far from sixteen miles through the forests. 
 But, with materials for a light dinner in her bag car- 
 ried upon Butler's arm, the actively nurtured girl 
 started with foot as light as her heart, and fearless in 
 her confidence in her companion ; for when a pure 
 and truly womanly nature surrenders itself into the 
 arms of its chosen life-companionship, it is with a feel- 
 ing of trustfulness and unhesitancy, not less secure and 
 full than the deeply religious spirit finds in its reliance 
 upon divine Providence. The strong arm upon which 
 the maiden fondly leans her feebler frame and all her 
 hopes, seems to her scarcely less sure than the power 
 of Omnipotence itself.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 273 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE sun shone clear and bright upon the tree-tops, 
 and its rays streamed through the foliage of the ever- 
 greens and the bare trunks of the hard-wood growth, 
 upon the even covering of snow that lay several feet 
 deep upon the earth. The thaw had converted the 
 surface, as we have said, into a crust capable of bear- 
 ing a man's weight ; so that the travellers proceeded 
 without difficulty in all directions, over the tops of the 
 small bushes and undergrowth that were mostly buried 
 beneath the frozen surface. The arrowy stems of the 
 red pines, flashing back the light from their purple 
 bark, and the dark gray white pines, still loftier and 
 larger than the former, rose in myriad columns around 
 them, like pillars of variegated porphyry. The thick 
 blunt tassels of the former species, and the longer and 
 more delicate spray of the latter, were dancing in the 
 light breeze that played over and among their summits, 
 while all below was calm and still. The slaty trunks 
 of the spotted beech, the yellow birch with the golden 
 fringes of its outer bark, the white birch shrouded in 
 its blanched envelope, and the rough and stately ma- 
 ples, rose in magnificent proportions, spreading their 
 leafless branches among the verdant canopies that clus- 
 tered umbrella-like over the tall timber-trees. Occa- 
 sionally a huge hemlock mingled the deep and shadowy 
 green of its long, drooping, and feathery boughs with 
 18
 
 274 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 the yellowish tints of the spruces, or the rich and 
 glossy hues of the fir, whose foliage turned, ever and 
 anon, its pearly reverse to the eye, like bronze lined 
 with silver, as gusts of air swept down the deep vistas 
 of the woods. 
 
 There is not in nature a more magnificent scene 
 than the primitive forest. ' There are the stupendous 
 heights and illimitable distances, the variety of form 
 and color, all softened and chastened, by the depth of 
 shade, into a picture of solemn majesty ; while here 
 and there, in each little glade, a flush of sunshine pours 
 into the bosom of the twilight wood, forming contrasts 
 rich and beautiful beyond description. The regular 
 pyramids of green of the silver firs or young spruces 
 fill the lower portion of the diorama, intermixed with 
 the slender and drooping stalks of the underwood. 
 Next rise the hard-wood trees, a hundred feet or more 
 into the air ; and over all, the pine-tops spread like 
 vast chandeliers, a tassel of living green dangling 
 from the extremity of every twig, and seeming almost 
 to reach the sky, which they nearly shut out from view. 
 The whole sombre and solemn mass, penetrated and 
 penciled, here and there, by glimpses of the upper air, 
 makes a world of mystery and solitude that impresses 
 and overwhelms the sense with a feeling of beauty and 
 of awe. 
 
 The lovers walked briskly on among the aisles of 
 the forest, too much absorbed with themselves to be 
 very attentive to the objects around them, or to the 
 distance passed over. The red squirrels, as they sat 
 upon the stumps that peered in dark and mouldering 
 ruin through the snow, enjoying the straggling beams 
 of the sun and searching out the seeds in the cones of 
 the resinous trees, threw down their treasures, and
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 275 
 
 scudded up the nearest trunk, themselves and their 
 saucy chirruping alike unnoticed. Even had a deer 
 broken away from his browsing, or a stately moose or 
 swift caribou been seen throwing his nose into the air, 
 and pausing to take one eager gaze at the intruders, it 
 would hardly have tempted James to use his rifle. 
 Before the forenoon was much advanced, six or eight 
 miles were left behind by the elastic steps of the young 
 travellers. Before, however, they had reached the 
 point where Butler expected to fall in with Sam, the 
 spare and nervous figure of Shirk was seen approach- 
 ing them, at the long and steady trot often used by the 
 Indians when passing rapidly through the woods. He 
 halted as he came up, and, wiping his forehead with his 
 sleeve, drew a few long breaths to refresh his lungs, 
 and spoke without the ceremony of a good-morning. 
 " Blame the luck, that I couldn't have met you before. 
 There's a pack o' tarnal Indians after us ; and it'll be 
 a hard job to get clear of 'em with Mary. If you and 
 I was alone, we'd give 'em a hard time ; but now 
 we're in a bad fix. But don't be frightened, Miss 
 Mary ; that'll only make matters worse." 
 
 " Indians, Sam ! " replied Butler in a tone of alarm ; 
 and " Indians ! " echoed Mary faintly, her cheek 
 growing pale as ashes. 
 
 " Yes, Indians, Iroquois, confound 'em ! But we 
 an't got any time to throw away. We can't get back to 
 Mr. Wilmot's, as you'll know when I tell you about 
 it. So let's be makin' tracks ! We must push for 
 the Falls ; and maybe, when we get lower down, we'll 
 fall in with somebody to help us." 
 
 Shirk then, taking the lead of the little party, pro- 
 ceeded at a sharp pace to the southward. Butler fol- 
 lowed, supporting with more solicitude than ever his
 
 276 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 companion, who was able, though still trembling with 
 apprehension, to keep up with Sam's rapid pace with 
 the efficient and careful aid of her lover's arm. As 
 they moved along, Sam thus proceeded in his narra- 
 tive : 
 
 " You see," said he, " I was lying on a deer-path, 
 watching for deer, when along came an Indian, and 
 sat down within two or three rods of me. I kept snug, 
 and, in about a quarter of an hour, four more came up, 
 and sat down with him. I knowed by their talk and 
 paint they was Canada Indians ; for I learnt a lit- 
 tle of their lingo from an old feller that used to keep 
 about Merrifield a good deal. I sot a good deal by 
 him ; for he taught me to make paddles and snow- 
 shoes, and arrows, and the like o' that. He was a mas- 
 ter feller for such things. Well, I watched 'em, like 
 a snake ; and I soon found out that the one that came 
 along first had been over to Mary's father's, peepin' 
 round. I suppose he was after stealing something if 
 he could. He'd found out you was about starting 
 down along ; so he comes to hunt up the rest and way- 
 lay you. These British Indians an't forgot the deviltry 
 they used to carry on in the war-time yet. I don't 
 know as they mean to do any worse than to plunder 
 you ; but, blast 'em ! they mustn't have a chance, 
 nohow. So, thinks I, here's a pretty how d'ye do ! 
 and I begun to think how I could get off and let you 
 know time enough to turn back. Right behind me 
 was a cedar swamp, and a steep bank leading down to 
 it. So, you see, I started to creep off on my belly; 
 and, as I kept the thicket atween them and me, I got 
 fairly down and across the swamp. Then the devils 
 saw me, and took after me. Of course I made tracks 
 quick. They gave me a hard one for about two miles ;
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 277 
 
 and I thought my scalp was gone for it. But, in a 
 long pull, a white man '11 beat an Indian ; and there 
 an't many legs, red or white, that '11 go faster or farther 
 than mine. I'm used to trampin'. I led 'em off your 
 track all I could, to give you time to get by 'em. So 
 we got over onto the ridge alongside the lake, and there 
 I gave 'em the slip ; for I know'd the country best, 
 and made down a brook, where they couldn't track me 
 on the ice, and got back here. Now, after they quit 
 me, I saw 'em strike off to the westward, for when 
 they'd fairly lost my track, I went back a piece to find 
 out their motions. They wouldn't come out far this 
 side of Mr. Wilmot's ; but when they find you've 
 passed, they'll be after us like a streak of lightnin'." 
 
 At this exposition of Sam's, James's features showed 
 symptoms of his grave apprehensions for his beloved 
 charge, though for himself, bred among such dangers, 
 he would have been less disturbed. Mary's face was 
 pale as death, and the compressed lip and fixed ex- 
 pression of the eye showed that terror had wrought a 
 painful effect upon her mind. Yet she bore up bravely 
 against her womanly feelings. A few moments of si- 
 lence followed ; for all were aware that it was an hour 
 of extreme and pressing peril, whose suddenness be- 
 numbed by its first shock ; and there seemed no refuge 
 or chance of escape apparent, to cheer or revive their 
 spirits. Butler looked anxiously at Mary, and thought 
 of the probable issue of this race, perhaps for life or 
 death, with dread almost unmingled with the slightest 
 tinge of hope. A glance was exchanged between 
 them full of contradictory and excited sentiment. The 
 love, hope, and confidence, that a few moments before 
 filled their young hearts to the exclusion of all doubts 
 or apprehensions, tumultuously struggled now with
 
 278 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 horrible fears. The happiness whose exulting fresh- 
 ness had raised them far above suspicion of mishap, 
 was brought violently down to a startling and painful 
 reality. But, though joy had fled, confidence and 
 hope revived, as the first shock of surprise and dread 
 passed away. Recovering his elasticity and coolness, 
 James pressed Mary's hand encouragingly, though he 
 dared not trust his voice, at the moment, to speak to her, 
 and turned to Sam, to hold counsel as to their course. 
 
 " What shall we do, Sam ? " 
 
 " Run while we can, and then fight 'em," said 
 Shirk coolly. 
 
 " But," rejoined Butler, his countenance again 
 clouding over in view of the cruel embarrassments of 
 their situation, " what use to talk of running away 
 from five Indians with Mary ? She will never hold out 
 to reach the settlement ; and, if it comes to a brush, 
 they are too many for us. O God ! that she should 
 be here. Sam, you must leave us and hurry down as 
 quickly as you can. I will get Mary along as fast as 
 possible, and try to hold the hounds at bay till you get 
 back with help. But don't lose a minute ; we shall 
 be able to push as low down as Schoodic Brook, at 
 least." 
 
 Sam pushed back his cap, and looked at Butler with 
 a glance of astonishment, while he whistled out a long 
 low " whew " between his teeth. 
 
 " James Butler, that won't do. Come back with 
 help ! we might come back in time to bury you, to be 
 sure. No, James, that won't do, nohow at all." 
 
 " Well, Sam, and what good can you do us ? we two 
 can't fight five ; and if you can't save us, you will save 
 yourself. So go, and we'll get along as fast as we can. 
 I shall hide Mary somehow, if compelled, and fight it
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 279 
 
 out to the last. You'll be back in season yet, with 
 some of our friends. They won't be slow on the 
 road, I know. Perhaps, too, you'll meet somebody not 
 far below. One good rifle, with yours and mine, 
 would give us a decent chance." 
 
 " It's no use saying any more, James Butler. Come 
 cut, come long tail, I don't quit. I should be ashamed 
 to look anybody in the face after it. Besides, don't 
 you feel so downcast ; we'll get Mary off safe enough 
 yet. There an't but three of 'em's got guns. You 
 used to be a dead shot ; and I an't slow with a rifle my- 
 self. If worst comes to worst, we'll give 'em a hard 
 one. Don't be frightened, Miss Mary ; but keep up 
 your heart and push along, as well as you can, to hold 
 out. It won't do any good to be gabbling here. We 
 must try to throw 'em off our trail, and hide till night- 
 fall, and then be off again. They must be some ways 
 behind us yet. But we can't tell exactly. I'll keep 
 an eye on the back track, and you see to Mary, James, 
 and push on smart." 
 
 " So be it then, Sam ; and I can't say but I'm glad 
 enough of your company in this scrape, for Mary's 
 sake. Let us hasten on and keep quiet then." 
 
 The trio now travelled on in silence at a rapid walk, 
 Shirk bringing up the rear, whence danger was to be 
 first apprehended. Two or three miles were thus 
 rapidly traversed, when Sam said to his companions in 
 a low and more cheerful tone, " I'll do it now, I guess. 
 If we can get another half mile before they sight us, 
 we'll cheat 'em." 
 
 He then briefly explained his plan to Butler, who 
 assented to its prudence ; and, encouraged by the 
 whisperings of hope, the brisk pace was still quickened, 
 till they stood within sight of a long reach of low
 
 280 SAM SHIRK; 
 
 ground, overflowed by the rains and now covered 
 with ice. " There," said Sam exultingly, " there we'll 
 baffle 'em." 
 
 They paused upon the brow of a ridge, at the foot 
 of whose steep declivity commenced the stretch of in- 
 terval land, now converted into an unbroken frozen 
 plain, through which rose the trunks of trees and 
 bushes in thickets which made it impervious to the 
 sight for any considerable distance. Butler's eye 
 glistened with joy as he saw this labyrinth of swamps, 
 which he well knew was of great extent, spreading out 
 before them a road which would convey no hint of the 
 direction of their flight to pursuers. 
 
 Sam pointed out to them the long trunk of a fallen 
 tree, which lying down the hill-side connected with 
 the edge of a small ravine, where a temporary torrent 
 made its way, in the thaws and rains, down to the 
 swamp, and which was now congealed in a series of min- 
 iature cascades and slopes, till it reached the bottom. 
 They had for some time been treading carefully in each 
 others' tracks, making but one impression, and that a 
 faint one, on the hard crust, as they hoped here to 
 mystify their enemies. 
 
 "Keep on that log and get into the run, and so 
 down into the swamp ; and don't touch any snow any- 
 where for your lives," said Sam. 
 
 Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when he 
 again spoke, but in a subdued whisper : " Down, down ! 
 There's one of the devils comin'. Here, James. Let 
 Mary creep carefully down, and you come up here. 
 We must stop this feller's mouth." 
 
 James spoke a few words of encouragement to the 
 poor girl, now again pale and trembling with renewed 
 fear, and gave her some directions for her descent; 
 
 7 O y
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 281 
 
 then, pushing his rifle before him, crept along the 
 trunk of the tree till he stood again by Sam's side ; 
 both being protected from observation of any one in 
 front by the huge circular mass of roots and earth 
 turned up by its fall. 
 
 " I saw the rascal away yonder, just comin' along 
 by that bend of the river that we crossed. You can 
 see about ten feet of the ice between the trees ; and I 
 set my eyes right on him, folio win' the track head 
 down, like a hound dog. I guess he's ahead of the 
 rest. I didn't see any more ; and I've been watchin' 
 the spot ever since. He'll be up in five or ten min- 
 utes ; and we must fix him out somehow. But look 
 here, James : best get Mary out o' this ; for if we have 
 to fire, we must run for it afterwards, or our plan is 
 spoilt. They'll come after us like race-horses now. 
 Do you see the big rock down by that crooked cedar, 
 jest ahead of Mary now ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, run down to her, and carry her to that rock. 
 Then look about nor'east, and you'll see a large yeller 
 pine top, higher, by twenty feet, than any round it. 
 Tell her to steer straight for that, and hide on the 
 edge of the ice ; don't let her touch the snow, on no 
 account. We'll come right along to her, after this 
 feller's taken care of. It's considerable far for her to 
 go alone, but it's the only chance. You and I must 
 make after her, when we do start, as tight as we can 
 scamper. If she can get there as quick as we can 
 catch up, I guess we'll do." 
 
 James leaned his gun against the matted roots that 
 rose like a broad shield before them, and crept again 
 down the bank to join Mary. As they moved rapidly 
 on towards the rock, he cautioned her to exert her ut-
 
 282 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 most activity, and to brace herself to meet the emer- 
 gency with the resolution that alone could extricate 
 them. As they turned round the huge and mossy 
 boulder, they easily distinguished the lofty tree-top 
 mentioned by Sam, looming like a tall mast above the 
 general level. 
 
 " Do you see that tall pine, dear Mary ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do, James." 
 
 " Well, dearest, go straight to that tree as fast as you 
 can. Tread only on solid ice, don't touch a morsel 
 of snow. When you get there, conceal yourself as 
 well as you can ; but keep always on the ice. We 
 will soon overtake you." 
 
 " Must I go alone, then, dear James ? " 
 
 " It must be so, Mary. Sam and I will hold the 
 savages in check, till you are across the swamp. It is 
 not more than a quarter of a mile ; we shall join you 
 soon. Come, Mary dear, cheer up, and God protect 
 you ! " 
 
 He stopped and kissed her pale cheek. She turned 
 with a look of anguish to her lover, but replied with 
 a firm voice, " I will go, James ; it will not take me 
 long. I am accustomed to the woods, you know. 
 But, O ! come quickly ; be careful, be a coward even, 
 for my sake, James. What shall I do, if any harm 
 happens to you ? '' 
 
 James threw once more, around the being so 
 precious to him, an embrace that both felt might be 
 the last, and murmured in her ear, " Mary dear, be- 
 loved Mary, I will be with you again in ten minutes, 
 if it be possible. We can hear your voice, if anything 
 happens ; but they must be behind us ; we shall be be- 
 tween you and harm. Now go, and Heaven be with 
 you! " The young lovers now parted, in mutual an-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 283 
 
 guish and with racking anxiety for the dangers which 
 overhung each, and which would have been less intim- 
 idating, could they have been shared in company. To 
 part was, to both, the loss of their best reliance, and 
 trusting to chance and out of their own reach their 
 dearest treasure. Leaving Butler was to poor Mary, 
 especially, to throw away the staff that upheld her 
 tottering steps ; and as she moved away alone, terror 
 and reluctance almost uncontrollable overwhelmed her 
 with a flood of misery. Tears dropped fast from her 
 eyes ; but, with a whispered prayer, the noble girl 
 walked firmly and swiftly to the designated point, and 
 never looked once behind her. 
 
 The stouter heart of Butler was not less dejected, as 
 he left her to traverse the forest alone, while savages 
 were hanging round their path. Silently and briefly 
 commending her to Providence, he turned and quietly 
 crept up again to the cover where Sam maintained his 
 watch, and resumed his faithful rifle. 
 
 Shirk was peeping cautiously through a small loop- 
 hole formed by the intertwining roots, where the gravel 
 and soil had fallen out from between them. As his 
 companion rejoined him, he said to him in a whisper, 
 
 " Can't we contrive to cut that feller's throat ? If 
 we fire, it will give a hint to the others and hurry them 
 on ; perhaps this feller is the only one on the track yet. 
 Time is everything for Mary, you know." 
 
 "It must be done," replied Butler. "Sam, do you 
 keep your rifle on the path ; and, if another comes up 
 before this one is disposed of, you will be obliged to 
 shoot him. I have my hunting-knife about me, and 
 will jump on this chap and stab him before he knows 
 it. Don't you stir unless you see I can't master him ; 
 but watch the track, and don't let any of them get past 
 is."
 
 284 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " Never fear, James. But be cool. Let him have 
 it right in the throat or between the ribs, and push him 
 over if you can. I'll give him a settler on the head, 
 if you don't kill." 
 
 This arrangement made, the pair sat mute and mo- 
 tionless ; Sam's eye bent through his convenient port- 
 hole and Butler keeping a sharp watch upon either 
 side. Once he turned to the quarter where Mary was 
 retreating ; but the trees had long shut out every pos- 
 sibility even of a glimpse of her, and lie bent his whole 
 attention to the crisis at hand. In a few moments the 
 Indian appeared at the foot of the ridge, his eye now 
 bent down to keep the track, and then glancing keenly 
 and widely round to catch any indication of life or mo- 
 tion. He paused a moment at the base of the hill and 
 listened intently before ascending, reconnoitring also 
 with sharp and distrustful looks the natural rampart 
 that sheltered the objects of his pursuit. Not a sound 
 was to be heard, and the native resumed his advance. 
 His moccasined foot gave out no echo, but the vigilant 
 Sam signified all his motions to Butler by signs. 
 James now sat crouching on the trunk, his long hunt- 
 ing-knife glistening in his grasp, and his muscles gath- 
 ered in for an instant bound upon his foe. As the 
 savage approached the wall of roots that covered the 
 ambuscade, his habitual caution led him to edge away 
 a pace or two, from the possible danger. The faithful 
 sentinel, however, gave Butler intimation, by a gesture 
 of his hand, and he summoned all his energies for the 
 coup de main. His eye, fixed steadily upon the point 
 where the Indian must first appear, flashed with a stern 
 excitement, while his cheek was pale with anxiety and 
 a natural reluctance to the painful but necessary act. 
 The instant the savage circled round the buttress, the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 285 
 
 youth sprang upon him, with a tremendous leap ; and, 
 although the precaution of the Indian had given him 
 the opportunity to guard himself, in some measure, 
 against the attack, he succeeded in burying his knife 
 in the side of his antagonist. The sudden shock 
 knocked from the hand of the Indian the gun which he 
 carried ; but the wound was not fatal, and Butler could 
 not extricate the weapon before he felt himself clasped 
 tightly in the embrace of his sinewy enemy. Shirk 
 stood by the while, with rifle raised, ready to pour its 
 deadly volley, if circumstances required. 
 
 The native and the youth struggled hard for a 
 moment or two ; the former to get his hands upon the 
 scalping-knife that hung in his girdle and Butler to pre- 
 vent it. James, at length, feeling the grasp of his foe 
 growing feebler, tripped up his heels with a strenuous 
 effort, and threw him backward upon the snow. For 
 a short space they writhed and twisted in deadly con- 
 tention ; but at last Butler succeeded in planting him- 
 self immovably upon the breast of the Indian, whose 
 strength was rapidly failing from the effects of his 
 wound ; and grasping firmly with one hand the arm 
 by the side of which the knife was hung, compressed 
 his tawny throat with the other, with a strength that 
 choked his respiration. After an ineffectual attempt 
 to reach the knife with the left arm that was wound 
 around Butler's body, he was compelled by faintness 
 and exhaustion to give over his efforts. Shirk, who 
 had been hovering round in vain to strike a blow with 
 the butt of his gun, improved instantly the opportunity 
 to snatch the knife from the belt, and drew with it a 
 deadly gash across the throat that was held motionless 
 in James's grasp. A convulsive shudder ran over the 
 dark frame, and the limbs relaxed their fibres forever.
 
 286 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 Butler sprang up unharmed from the perilous en- 
 counter, Sam quietly slipping the fatal knife into his 
 pocket. 
 
 " It's good stuff, and I may want it agin yet. Now, 
 James, take up the chap's gun. There an't but two 
 more of 'em's got guns ; and if they do overhaul us, 
 with three shots all handy, I think we'll do considera- 
 ble well with t'other four. It's a terrible pretty fowl- 
 ing-piece too, an English one. Well, that poor devil's 
 done for. Now we must be moving, and pretty smart 
 too. But first I'll take the chap's wampum : the 
 women will like it." 
 
 The two friends then quitted the bloody scene of 
 the fray ; and moving carefully down the old trunk that 
 had done them so good service, and thence to the 
 frost-bound rivulet, they landed safely upon the level 
 of the swamp, without leaving any trace whatever of 
 their passage. Having reached the solid ice, they 
 crossed the interval at a rapid pace, and soon gained 
 the farther shore. Here Butler clasped with delight, 
 in his, the hand of Mary, who came to meet them 
 from the midst of a thicket of young cedars. She 
 heard the story of the encounter with a shudder ; and 
 James felt, with unalloyed ecstasy, the warm pressure 
 of the hand that expressed her joy at his safety. 
 Meanwhile they followed up a long cove, as it were, 
 formed by the inundation of the waters, till higher 
 land, on either side, confined again within its proper 
 limits the course of a large brook, whose swollen cur- 
 rent had filled the basin which they had just crossed, 
 during the freshets of the fall and winter. Journeying 
 on for some distance up the little stream, they came 
 upon a sharp bend, inclosed on every side by a dense 
 growth of alders and small trees, and overhung by
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 287 
 
 huge rocks on either bank. The whole formed a little 
 amphitheatre, where the party could be exposed to no 
 eye from without the circle. A large windfall was 
 stretched across the stream, at the outlet of this 
 inclosure. The cakes of ice had driven over the 
 trunk of the tree during the freshet, and hung sus- 
 pended there, as the surface of the pond above fell 
 with the decrease of the flood. Winter had now 
 locked up the springs that fed the channel, and a fee- 
 ble rivulet stole down the centre of the bed, leaving 
 a dry and airy hall, carpeted with withered leaves or 
 strewn with gravel, three or four feet under the crys- 
 tal roof that spread from bank to bank. The fracture 
 of the mass, where it lay raised at the upper end upon 
 the fallen log, left an opening at one corner, by which 
 an easy entrance was afforded to this snug retreat. 
 As the ice-cakes shelved up the stream, it could not 
 attract the attention of any one from below ; the aper- 
 ture being overhung as with a pent-house and wind- 
 ing snugly round the end of the trunk, whose bleached 
 and battered mass seemed, to hasty observation, com- 
 pletely to close the hollow. The fugitives, under the 
 guidance of Sam, crept over the edge of the ice and 
 through the narrow door-way, down into the channel 
 of the brook, along which they easily moved, by 
 stooping, past a bend of the stream which intercepted 
 entirely, by the sudden change of course, all view 
 from the passage by which they entered. There 
 James and Mary, scraping together the dried leaves 
 for a rude couch, sat themselves snugly down behind 
 the projecting point ; and, with her warm cloak drawn 
 closely round her, they reclined against the bank quite 
 comfortably and at their ease. The cold air was shut 
 out, and the ceiling of their hiding-place stretched
 
 288 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 across just above their heads, admitting a sober and 
 pleasant light, though fortunately not so transparent 
 as to betray them from above. Shirk gathered up a 
 bunch of leaves, and, returning to the entrance, sedu- 
 lously effaced and covered up all traces of their pas- 
 sage ; and, having completed his precautions at the 
 point behind which they were concealed, he too qui- 
 etly stretched himself out, to enjoy the rest that he 
 now began to feel acceptable to his weary limbs. 
 
 " Now you mustn't speak too loud, though they 
 will be sharp ears to hear us through a foot of solid 
 ice, and sharp eyes to see us too, for this is snow ice, 
 for three inches on the top, luckily for us. If it was 
 all like this just over our heads, you might look 
 through it as easy as a glass window. Don't you 
 think it's a considerable good shelter for a rainy day, 
 Miss Mary ? I noticed the place some time ago ; but 
 didn't think I should ever be so glad to get into it. 
 I hope these critturs won't track us ; but, if they do, 
 we've got a pretty good fort, provided they don't 
 starve us out. Lay the guns handy, James. There's 
 three good charges for 'em, if they trouble us, for the 
 first brush. It's hard to cheat an Indian. They're 
 master fellers for followin' a track. They won't be 
 likely to think we've come this way ; for our course 
 was south'ard. But when they miss the trail, they'll 
 be apt to think we got away on the ice, and '11 hunt 
 round pretty sharp. But this is a blind hole ; they'll 
 do well to find us ; for who'd ever think of looking 
 here for anything but a musquash ? At any rate, I 
 guess they'll find they've come for .wool to a goat's 
 house, if they undertake to drive us out. I've had 
 a long run to-day ; and if you'll keep a bright lookout, 
 I'll go to sleep, James. But don't make a noise, on
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 289 
 
 any account. When it's dark, we'll start agin. We'll 
 hear something of 'em soon, if at all." 
 
 So saying, Sam wriggled himself into a comfortable 
 position, and soon dropped into a sound slumber. Mary 
 and James forgot their anxieties again, and carried on, 
 in subdued whispers, a conversation more interesting 
 to themselves, probably, than to anybody else. No 
 great time, however, elapsed, before these peaceful em- 
 ployments were suspended by a fierce yell, which ech- 
 oed through the forest and came to their ears, though 
 deadened by the solid covering of their singular retreat, 
 with a most intimidating wildness. Mary grew pale 
 as death, and looked tremblingly at her lover. James's 
 open brow contracted again to a stern and harassed 
 expression ; while Shirk shook off his drowsiness, and 
 raised himself upon an elbow to listen. It was not re- 
 peated, and all was still again as ever. 
 
 "There's the rest on 'em got along," at last spoke 
 Sam. " They're screeching over that feller with his 
 throat cut ; and now they'll do their prettiest to return 
 the favor. I was in hopes t'others had quit chasing us. 
 But they're uncommon perseverin', these Indians. If 
 they cut my throat this time, though, I guess they'll 
 know it." 
 
 " What's best to be done, Sam ? Shall we go out 
 and watch, or keep close ? " 
 
 " Keep close, certain. They won't find us, 'tan't 
 likely ; and if they do, they'll catch a Tartar. Mind 
 and make no noise, and let 'em swing ; that's the talk." 
 
 An anxious hour or two passed by ; but, ensconced 
 in their icy fortress, they could obtain no certain indi- 
 cations of the movements of their enemies. Just as 
 the dusk came on, Sam held up a warning finger, as a 
 dim shadow glided along the surface of the ice, in their 
 
 19
 
 290 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 immediate neighborhood. Perhaps it was one of their 
 pursuers, scouting for some sign of the lost fugitives. 
 It might, however, have been only a wild animal. No 
 interruption of their quiet ensued ; and night closed in, 
 rendering their retreat utterly dark. 
 
 After a lunch upon the contents of Mary's bag, Sam 
 and Butler groped their way cautiously to the mouth 
 of the cavern, and, after listening intently for some 
 minutes and catching no sound that indicated danger, 
 emerged from their concealment, and reconnoitred the 
 immediate vicinity. No traces of an enemy were dis- 
 coverable, and they quickly returned to their compan- 
 ion, and with her took a final leave of the shelter that 
 had done them so good service. 
 
 The evening was still and mild. The rustling of 
 the pine-tops, like the surge of a distant beach, filled 
 the atmosphere with its deep, -indefinite murmurings. 
 Ever and anon the hooting owl called to his mates, 
 and was answered in the droll half shout, half bark, 
 that constitutes their vocabulary. Other sound or 
 sign of life there was none. 
 
 Shirk led the way, with a gun on each shoulder ; 
 and close behind followed Butler, with Mary leaning 
 on his arm. They threaded rapidly and without inter- 
 ruption the dim paths of the forest, the reflection of 
 the star-light from the snow affording them sufficient 
 light, without exposing them to being seen from any 
 distance. A few hours of exertion brought them 
 safely to the settlement. Only here and there a light 
 shone, at that late hour, from the friendly windows ; 
 but the sense of security and peace, which is the first 
 blessing of civilization, relieved the painful tension of 
 their minds, as they passed down the silent roadway ; 
 and each party gained their respective homes, wearied, 
 but thankful.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 291 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 WITH early morning, all Merrifield was in a ferment. 
 Shirk had found time to communicate to numbers of 
 his neighbors the events of the preceding day, and, had 
 he not been compelled to yield to the imperative claims 
 of fatigue and hunger, would probably have devoted 
 himself to gossiping, on an occasion so favorable. As 
 it was, there was no lack of information upon the 
 subject. The story passed from lip to lip and from 
 house to house, gaining all sorts of additions and va- 
 riations as it went its round. Independently of any 
 accessories, true or false, it was unquestionably of 
 startling interest. Strange Indians had been seen lurk- 
 ing round, without doubt, with more or less mischiev- 
 ous purposes. Indian wars, with all their horrible 
 circumstances of carnage and atrocity, although be- 
 longing to a time gone by, still remained fresh in the 
 minds of frontier communities. Straggling incursions 
 of hostile natives from the Canadas were not unlikely 
 to be undertaken for purposes of plunder, which occa- 
 sion might easily turn to conflagration and bloodshed, 
 with such wild marauders. An unbroken forest lay 
 between Merrifield and the St. Lawrence, and lapped 
 the very verge of the little village in all directions. 
 Pillage, and even murder, were too congenial to the 
 habits of the Indians to be bridled securely by mere 
 political conventions, in which they had no share but a
 
 292 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 reluctant obedience. The barbarous allies that Enor- 
 
 o 
 
 land enlisted to her eternal disgrace on her side in 
 the Revolutionary war, remembered still the profitable 
 and congenial license then practiced upon the exposed 
 colonists. Feeble and remote settlements had hardly 
 ceased to view the possibility of Indian aggression with 
 a sensitive and ferocious apprehension. The enmity 
 that existed between the masses of our countrymen and 
 the Indian, where they were brought into rough con- 
 tact, was deep and bitter. The white man regarded 
 his adversary as he did a wolf, as an object alike of 
 fear and contempt. He despised the native, even 
 while he knew, from a sore and bloody experience, his 
 power and will to do mischief upon opportunity. But 
 as Indian warfare was based upon principles abhorrent 
 to civilized antagonism, each instance of prowess gained 
 for the savage no respect, while it did not fail to pro- 
 duce a furious and unrelenting hatred. With the In- 
 dian himself, the contest was one of sullen desperation. 
 Always unable to cope with the superior advantages of 
 his competitors, his natural disposition to covert and 
 insidious attack was compelled into a still deeper 
 treachery, and his bloody retributions driven by the 
 sting of hopeless inferiority into the madness of a yet 
 more reckless vengeance. The history of the struggle 
 has been a melancholy and dark record of mutual hate 
 and reciprocal injury. Philanthropy, while she weeps 
 over the graves of the original occupants of this broad 
 land, can hardly fail to censure severely those by whose 
 hands their sad and utter extermination was wrought. 
 But this censure is, in great degree, unjust. The issue 
 was a moral and physical necessity, a destiny that must 
 needs be accomplished. The result grew inevitably 
 out of the mere juxtaposition of the two races upon the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 293 
 
 same soil. They could no more exist there together 
 than the cultivated field and the primeval forest could, 
 at one and the same time, occupy the ground. Every 
 trait of national character, every social habit, the indi- 
 vidual temperament of both parties, imperatively forbade 
 it. The Anglo-Saxon could not tolerate an equal ; the 
 red man would not acknowledge his superior. The 
 Anglo-Saxon must be master, but the Indian would not 
 be slave. The characteristic temperament of the latter 
 could never be moulded anew, or his moral or physical 
 habitudes changed or even modified. The deep stamp 
 of uncounted centuries was there, which no temporary 
 influence could efface. The proud heart sustained, and 
 even provoked to the end, the unequal strife, and 
 broke in its last despair. Many instances of gross in- 
 justice and heartless cruelty no doubt took place in this 
 furious struggle for existence ; for such, on both sides, 
 it was. There was much to mourn for and much to 
 blush for ; and where is there not ? but the great issue 
 is from the hand of Providence. One era has yielded 
 to another and a more advanced one. The Indian 
 disappears before civilized man, as the saurian and 
 other antediluvian monsters died, in the very change 
 that fitted the earth for a higher order of being. It 
 was written before time began in the eternal . pro- 
 gramme, an inevitable step in the great march of ages. 
 The announcement of the adventure that had be- 
 fallen their townsfolk, left no bosom unmoved in Merri- 
 field. It awoke evil memories that had not yet passed 
 into oblivion. While women trembled, and children's 
 cheeks grew pale, the men took down their rifles, and 
 sallied forth to the public corners, with looks and ges- 
 tures that boded no good to whatever might challenge 
 their resentment. They stood about in knots, eagerly
 
 294 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 engaged in conversation upon what had been and what 
 was to be done, while waiting for the appearance of 
 Butler, whose slumbers had been prolonged beyond the 
 usual hour by the toil and excitement of the previous 
 day. 
 
 Meanwhile, James and Mary were seated at the late 
 breakfast, over which the dame presided with a per- 
 plexed and anxious look, as if she had fallen out of the 
 clouds, or rather fallen into them. Roused from her 
 first nap of the night before by the arrival of the wan- 
 derers, she had listened to their story with an amaze- 
 ment and terror that precluded all possibility of com- 
 prehending its details. She therefore cried herself to 
 sleep again, and awoke in the morning with those in- 
 definite and horrible impressions that weigh down one 
 who has suffered with the nightmare. The morning 
 household cares relieved for a while the uneasy feeling ; 
 but now, seated at leisure, curiosity and affectionate 
 interest led her to fresh inquiry. But the truth was, 
 that the good old lady's mind had no department ap- 
 propriate to ideas so startling as grew out of this mat- 
 ter. She could not domiciliate them at all among her 
 own quiet, gentle, and every-day notions. They came 
 and went like the shadows that swept across the floor ; 
 and she had neither the power nor the wish to detain 
 them. Her energy was not equal to the task, and her 
 kindness loathed it. It was utterly impossible for her 
 to conceive how people would or could be, do, or suf- 
 fer, under circumstances of such out-of-the-way fashion ; 
 and the more she pondered, the deeper was her bewil- 
 derment. 
 
 *' Now, James," said she, " do you suppose you 
 really killed the Indian ? " 
 
 " I am afraid there is no doubt of it, mother. It
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 295 
 
 wasn't a pleasant job ; but if we hadn't killed him, he 
 would hare killed us." 
 
 " O dear me, well, it's awful ! But perhaps he 
 wouldn't have hurt you, after all, if you had asked him 
 not to." 
 
 " I don't think he would have cared much, mother, 
 for anything I could say ; besides," said he, with a sly 
 look at Mary, " you know I can't speak Iroquois." 
 
 " Sure enough, I didn't think of that. But I'm 
 awful sorry you killed the creature." 
 
 " Well, mother," replied Butler, a little annoyed, 
 " what could I do ? what would you have done ? " 
 
 " I ? goody gracious ! " ejaculated the old lady, in 
 terror at the very thought of such a predicament. 
 " I ? why, I should have run away and screamed." 
 
 " And much good that would do," responded her 
 son quietly. 
 
 " I know it wouldn't do any good. But what could 
 a body do ? " 
 
 The dreadful necessity of taking the life of a fellow- 
 being was beyond her kindly logic. The genial in- 
 stincts and peaceful propensities of her nature were too 
 strong for any effort her reason could make ; and she 
 sat silent, and hopelessly perplexed to justify a deed so 
 painful. 
 
 Sam Shirk had come in to inquire after Mary and 
 James, and was sitting in the chimney-corner, with 
 his little black pipe between his lips, waiting till his 
 friends had finished their meal, and his rude politeness 
 would allow him to indulge in his matutinal " smoke." 
 He had listened, as he often did, with a queer mixture 
 of respect and astonishment, to the old lady's rambling 
 notions, till the astonishment got the better of the re- 
 spect ; as he saw the light in which she was inclined to
 
 296 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 view an act, to him so evidently necessary and even 
 praiseworthy. 
 
 " Why, ma'am," exclaimed he, " 'twan't nothing but 
 an Indian ; and if we hadn't a took care of him, we 
 should all have been scalped in less than no time. 
 There was more of 'em than we could handle just be- 
 hind." 
 
 " Well, Sammooel, I hope 'twas right. But you 
 know we never should kill anything when we can 
 help it." 
 
 " To be sure not, ma'am, not Christians, nor even 
 decent dumb beasts for nothing," argued Sam ; " but 
 don't you kill spiders and snakes, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Well, I kill spiders when they get into the house ; 
 but I'm afraid of snakes." 
 
 Butler now rose from table, asking his mother's 
 leave by a silent nod, and signed to Sam to give over 
 the useless controversy. He knew well his mother's 
 mind would never extricate itself from such metaphysi- 
 cal difficulties ; and must be left to flounder by itself, 
 till time and oblivion deadened the trouble that would 
 not be reasoned away. He then took his rifle from the 
 corner where he had left it the night before, and pro- 
 ceeded to put it in order ; while Shirk lighted his pipe 
 and commenced a careful examination of the gun taken 
 from the Indian. He tried the lock, then sighted 
 along the barrel, examined the stock, and drew the 
 rod. 
 
 " Be careful, Sam, that gun is probably loaded." 
 
 " I'll take care. It's a fair piece, but 'tan't a prim- 
 ing to yours. I think it's full better than mine, 
 though." 
 
 " Well, let it be yours, then. You are welcome to 
 my share of it."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 297 
 
 " Thank you kindly, I'll take it out and try it some 
 time. But I'll stick to my old rifle to-day. I know 
 just what that'll do, to a shaving." 
 
 " To-day I " echoed Dame Butler in tones of alarm ; 
 " there an't to be any more fighting, I hope, James." 
 
 " Why, mother, we must look after these Indians 
 or they'll be doing mischief. You wouldn't have our 
 houses burnt, our cattle stolen, and perhaps people 
 murdered, would you ? " 
 
 " O my ! what awful things folks do do ! well, what 
 are you going about ? " 
 
 " Why, I suppose the neighbors will be for scour- 
 ing the woods, to find out at least what is going on. 
 Are they getting ready for a scout outdoors, Sam ? " 
 
 " An't they ! " exclaimed Sam exultingly, for his 
 blood was up to fever heat. " Every rifle in Merri- 
 field's been cleaned this morning. They're only wait- 
 ing for you." 
 
 " O James ! " said Mary, turning pale, " are you go- 
 ing out among those savages again ? " 
 
 " O James ! " cried his mother, " do stay and take 
 care of us, and let somebody else kill the rest of the 
 Indians." 
 
 " Why, Maiy, you wouldn't have me leave my quar- 
 rel and yours to the neighbors, certainly. There is 
 no other way to protect the village from these blood- 
 hounds, mother, but to keep them at a distance. 
 There is no danger. There will be enough of us now 
 to manage all the Indians between here and the Aroo- 
 stook." 
 
 Butler's heightened color and flashing eye told 
 plainly that remonstrance was out of place ; and Mary, 
 casting upon him a look of mingled pride and anxiety, 
 quietl} 7 busied herself in making his preparations for 
 the expedition.
 
 298 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 The old lady sat herself down in her arm-chair, say- 
 ing to herself as she mechanically took up her knitting, 
 u It's no use to talk to him. He's just like his father ; 
 when the old Adam gets up, he won't hear to reason." 
 The tears fell so fast from her eyes that she could not 
 see the ends of her needles. Yet she knitted away 
 with all her might, rocking herself to and fro, as if the 
 fate of the world depended upon her diligence. 
 
 Everything was ready in a few minutes ; and with 
 an affectionate kiss and a cheering word to his mother 
 and Mary, Butler left the house with Shirk, and joined 
 their neighbors in the street.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 BUTLER was a great favorite with his townsmen ; 
 and his appearance was greeted by a general stir of 
 inquiry and congratulation. After having satisfied 
 curiosity, by a clear and succinct account of the in- 
 cidents of the preceding day, he concluded by asking 
 in his turn, " Have you decided what to do ? " 
 
 " Hardly. We have been waiting to hear what you 
 and Shii-k had to say. You can judge best how many 
 of 'em there are, and where we might be likely to find 
 'em." 
 
 " Why, no, Mr. Campbell. Shirk saw five, and 
 doesn't know whether there are more or not. I saw 
 only one ; and he is out of the way of mischief. Sam 
 first fell in with them near Pleasant Mountain, and 
 that's all we know. But here comes Wishcomet. 
 He may be able to tell us something." 
 
 A tall young Indian turned a corner at the farther 
 end of the bridge, and was now crossing it slowly, with 
 his rifle upon his shoulder. He was well formed, erect 
 and easy in his motions, as good proportions and active 
 habits necessarily made him. His features were bold 
 and prominent, as usual with his race, but open and 
 pleasant in then* general expression ; while his bright 
 black eye shone with all the acuteness and more than 
 the ordinary information of his people. His dress was 
 picturesque and characteristic, as it commonly is, even
 
 300 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with those of the natives whose position leads them to 
 adopt the fabrics of civilization in their clothing, in lieu 
 of the ruder materials of savage life. It was also 
 marked by the preference for strong and brilliant col- 
 ors that always prevails among uncivilized peoples, but 
 arranged with a better taste and greater sense of fitness 
 than would have been exhibited by a common savage. 
 He was the lineal descendant of the Sachems of the 
 Passamaquoddies ; and, although the broken condi- 
 tion and lost independence of his tribe left but little of 
 real authority and influence to its head, the acknowl- 
 edged preeminence still imparted a dignity of character 
 and mien not unworthy of a much more elevated po- 
 sition. Like all Indians brought by the progress of 
 events within the territorial limits of white jurisdiction, 
 the tribe had already lost something of native charac- 
 ter, without acquiring any valuable qualities or habits 
 in return. 
 
 They were something less Indian, but not a whit more 
 civilized. Compelled, by the changes that had taken 
 place around them, to seek some novel means of sup- 
 plying their necessities, a petty barter with their white 
 neighbors in baskets, seal- oil, furs, and other products 
 of rude manufacture or the chase had superseded, to 
 some extent, their former independent life. They 
 wore such clothing as they could buy, beg, or some- 
 times steal, in lieu of furs or dressed skins ; used guns 
 instead of bows and arrows, and procured their food 
 partially by exchanges with the whites, instead of find- 
 ing it altogether in the woods and rivers. But they had 
 acquired no habit of steady industry, and added nothing 
 to the comfort of their condition. Roving, desultory, 
 and indolent, their small share in the results of civili- 
 zation was a necessity, and not an improvement ; and,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 301 
 
 wherever it was possible, they tenaciously adhered to 
 their ancestral usages. In this perverse rejection of 
 all refinement and amelioration, whatever was its 
 cause, must be found the chief reason of the degrada- 
 tion and destruction of the aborigines. The great 
 wave of foreign power and change swept rapidly and 
 resistlessly over their land. They would not move 
 with its current, nor submit to be borne along by its 
 tide. Consequently they were buried forever beneath 
 it, or dashed in wretched ruin into nooks and corners, 
 to wither away in decrepitude and helplessness. But 
 the Passamaquoddies were, at this time, yet upon the 
 outer verge of Anglo-Saxon progress. Diminished in 
 numbers and broken in spirit, they had still a sem- 
 blance of national character, and had not yet reached 
 that abnegation of all valuable and hopeful traits char- 
 acteristic of a crushed and ruined race. Their young 
 Sachem, or Governor, as the whites termed him, de- 
 served and received considerable respect, both from re- 
 gard to his station and his own good qualities. For, 
 upheld, as we have said, by a sense of personal dis- 
 tinction and self-respect, above the rapidly declining 
 standard of his followers, he was sober, honorable, gen- 
 erous, and manly. He had not the bitter spirit, born 
 of revenge and conscious degradation, so common 
 among his unfortunate people, but seemed to seek to 
 maintain an equal and frank intercourse where strug- 
 gle was useless, and complaint vain. A quiet melan- 
 choly of expression and a reserved staidness of de- 
 meanor, at variance with his youth and disposition, 
 showed, however, that his own spirit, too, was overcast 
 with the sorrows of the present and the dark shadow 
 of the future. 
 
 The young Sachem came up, and, saluting the group
 
 302 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with a quiet nod, stood resting upon his rifle. He was 
 dressed in a blue hunting-shirt, ornamented at the bot- 
 tom with a red fringe, and girt about his waist with 
 a sash of the same color. His blue leggings were 
 adorned up and down the outside seam with a similar 
 fringe to that which bordered the frock ; and his feet 
 were protected with moccasins beautifully worked 
 with the quills of the porcupine, in various colors. A 
 blue cloth cap bordered with fur, with the emblematic 
 eagle's feather gracefully bending over its front, 
 covered his jetty hair. A dark gray blanket, banded 
 with red, was thrown loosely over his shoulder, and a 
 broad silver medal, suspended from his neck by a cord, 
 hung upon his chest. 
 
 There was a moment's pause, in deference to the 
 known habit of the natives, who never allow them- 
 selves to evince the impatient eagerness of white men 
 in opening a conference. Wishcouiet stood like a fine 
 bronze statue, till he was addressed by Butler. 
 
 " Does the Governor know there are strange In- 
 dians above ? " 
 
 " One of our hunters came down last night, and 
 brought in the clothes of a red man that was killed in 
 the woods by two whites." 
 
 " It was the tracks of Shirk and myself that he saw. 
 I know that part of the story ; but what was the In- 
 dian that was killed ? " 
 
 " His dress and paint were that of the Indians of the 
 great lakes." 
 
 " Sam, have you that wampum . belt about you ? 
 the chief will know it." 
 
 Shirk came forward, and held up the embroidered 
 belt. Wishcomet glanced at it a moment, and then 
 replied, " Iroquois."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 303 
 
 " So I said, Governor," said Sam. 
 
 Butler then went on : 
 
 " Do you know anything about them, Governor, 
 their numbers, and what they are about ? " 
 
 " Succobash saw only the dead man, and he had 
 been hidden in the bushes." 
 
 " Well, then, I don't see that you can enlighten us 
 much. We must go and find out for ourselves. Will 
 you go with us, Governor ? " 
 
 "Yes, and carry some of our men, if you want 
 them. The Iroquois are enemies : you are friends." 
 
 " Get three or four of your best young men, Chief, 
 if you will, and assist us to hunt up these chaps. We 
 can take care of them fast enough, if we can only find 
 them." 
 
 " I will be back in half an hour," answered the 
 Sachem, turning to depart. 
 
 " One moment, Governor. You know best of us all 
 how to go to work. Give us your opinion." 
 
 " There must be a good many. They wouldn't 
 come so far, if not. Twenty or thirty men, at least, 
 ought to go. Succobash shall put on the dead man's 
 dress. Then we must contrive to find their trail. 
 They will either go home right away after this, or hide 
 till night for a chance to strike." 
 
 " So I think, Governor. They will know well 
 enough we shall be after them to-day. If they are 
 strong enough to risk it, they will keep close to-day, 
 and try for their revenge to-night. The moon rises 
 at ten o'clock. Get your men here as quick as possi- 
 ble. We will be ready." 
 
 The young chief now started for the encampment 
 of his people, which was then about a mile below the 
 village ; for tribes in communication with the settle-
 
 304 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 merits, though they will neither quarter with their 
 white neighbors, nor make permanent villages by them- 
 selves, in most instances, generally pitch their wig- 
 wams within convenient distance for intercourse, unless 
 upon a hunting or fishing expedition. 
 
 The assembly held a hasty consultation, on the de- 
 parture of the Sachem, and made their arrangements 
 upon the brief hints already suggested. Forty active 
 and resolute men were selected, and unanimously chose 
 Butler for their commander. The rest were to remain 
 to guard the village against attack. The band chosen 
 for the expedition, at Butler's suggestion, immediately 
 set about preparing themselves with three days' pro- 
 vision and arms and ammunition. In a short time all 
 were at the rendezvous, ready to march. 
 
 About the same time Wishcomet returned, bring- 
 ing with him four followers, besides Succobash, arrayed 
 in the garb of the slain Indian. The latter had also 
 painted his face in the fashion which he had noticed on 
 the dead man. He was therefore well prepared to 
 pass for one of the enemy, should circumstances re- 
 quire it ; and nothing but a very close examination 
 would betray him. At his chiefs suggestion, he wound 
 a bright red cord around the stock of his gun, as if it 
 had been split and hastily repaired, in order that he 
 might not be mistaken by his friends. 
 
 The party then started up the river, trusting to 
 chance and their own diligence and ingenuity for the 
 successful issue of their enterprise.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 305 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 BUTLER and the Indian chief walked side by side a 
 little in advance of their companions. Of nearly 
 equal age and position, each was, both by circum- 
 stance and capacity, the natural leader of his comrades. 
 Both, active, resolute, and quick of apprehension, 
 frank, generous, and warm-hearted, were qualified to 
 sustain ably the preeminence which their popular qual- 
 ities secured them. But how different the career that 
 opened before them ! The young Anglo-Saxon, a for- 
 tunate member of a dominant race, happy in the pres- 
 ent and ambitious of the future, saw his nation advanc- 
 ing with an almost incredible rapidity on the road to 
 prosperity. His heart glowing with the confidence of 
 hope and the energy of power, he felt that he had but 
 to will the accomplishment of every reasonable wish 
 and legitimate purpose. His bright eye and elastic 
 tread, his cheerful laugh and spontaneous independ- 
 ence of manner gave outward token of his feelings 
 and his thoughts. But Wishcomet, though scarcely 
 yet a man, wore the grave and chastened air of long 
 experience. Still in the very spring-tide of his youth, 
 he had already lived a life-time of sorrows in the mis- 
 fortunes of his people. The anxious apprehensions 
 and bitter trials of life had already laid the weight of 
 years upon his brow, and oppressed his heart with a 
 burden, beneath which it throbbed painfully and con- 
 20
 
 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 vulsively. To him, the present was a hopeless strag- 
 gle against evil, and the future a dark gulf which no 
 eye could fathom and no joy could light. His spring- 
 ing and easy step showed the activity of perfect physi- 
 cal powers, but it had the languor of restricted purposes 
 and sad anticipations. A melancholy quiet pervaded 
 his features, and shone from his deep-set eye, except 
 at times ; when, from a memory of the past or a galling 
 surmise of insult or wrong, it would flash, for a mo- 
 ment, with the natural spirit of his years and race. 
 But it was only to settle back into a despondency, the 
 more touching that it had nothing of the sullen Indian 
 ferocity, which might, however, have been pardoned 
 to despair. The one, like a young eagle, looking out 
 from his lofty perch over field and forest, hailing the 
 joyous light of morning, and balancing himself upon 
 eager wing to swoop forth on his fearless errand ; the 
 other, like the same gallant bird retreating at evening, 
 stricken and sore, to his wonted station, with drooping 
 wing and glazing eye, looking dreamily into the dark- 
 ness that is fast hiding from him the scene of his free, 
 bold life, that shall see no new morning. 
 
 There existed a feeling of friendliness between the 
 youths, heightened on the part of Butler by sympathy, 
 and on that of the young chief by gratitude. They 
 often hunted and fished together, and free intercourse 
 had begotten a mutual respect and good-will. Their 
 thoughts and speech were turned, at this time, upon 
 the object of their present expedition ; and they agreed 
 in the opinion that the hostile Indians, if they had not 
 retreated, would be hovering on the rear of the upper 
 settlements of the river ; and that the best course was 
 to proceed at once to that quarter. By this plan, im- 
 mediate aid might be afforded to the isolated farms ;
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 307 
 
 while, if they chanced to pass the enemy, they would 
 be in a position to intercept his retreat. The door of 
 Captain Dee's farm-house was reached, as they con>- 
 eluded the discussion by this arrangement. 
 
 The old gentleman and William stood, gun in hand, 
 awaiting their approach. 
 
 " We heard about an hour ago of yesterday's affair, 
 James," said the Captain, as he wrung Butler's hand 
 with cordial interest. " You and Mary escaped fa- 
 mously. If those copper-skins do as well for them-- 
 selves, they will be lucky. Why, you've a small army 
 here." 
 
 " Yes, Captain, there are plenty of us. I think you 
 and William may as well stay at home, and take care 
 of your premises and old Polly." 
 
 " D n old Polly ! if the Indians carry her off, 
 
 she's as fit for a squaw as anything else. William's 
 determined to go with you, and I'm determined to go 
 with William. So you'll have to take us both." 
 
 " Well, for my part at least, I shall not regret it, as 
 you know. Tell me what you think of the plan Wish- 
 comet and I have formed." Butler then recited the 
 conclusions upon which himself and his associate had 
 rested. Dee assented to their propriety, and the party 
 proceeded, with numbers thus increased, upon their 
 road. 
 
 It was about noon, as they had crossed the river at 
 the Falls, and passed a mile or two beyond, when one 
 of the scouts of whom several had been thrown out 
 on the flanks and front gave the signal of alarm, by 
 lifting his cap upon his rifle and giving a low and pecul- 
 iar whistle, that was passed from mouth to mouth till 
 it reached the main body. The company had been 
 simply organized into two platoons, with directions
 
 308 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 sufficient for the sudden emergencies so common in 
 forest warfare. At the signal, Butler waved his hand, 
 and his followers immediately sprang into the woods, 
 half of them on either side, and instantly concealed 
 themselves behind the trees and bushes, in a semicir- 
 cular formation, in order to protect their flanks against 
 surprise. They remained thus, silent and motionless, 
 with the exception of their leaders, who sought by 
 cautious examination to discover any movement in the 
 woods around. After the lapse of a few minutes, the 
 advanced scout was seen to emerge from the cover 
 which he had taken upon giving his signal, and join a 
 single individual who was now plainly visible coming 
 down the path. Convinced by this that the intruder 
 was a friendly one, the band stepped out again into 
 the track, and the sharpest-sighted among them directly 
 pronounced it to be Joe Sibley. 
 
 " That is fortunate, James," said Captain Dee. 
 " Joe will be able to tell us what's going on above. 
 His eyes are sharp ones, and he's always roving about/' 
 
 Joe, with the patrols from the front, now all came 
 in together, and a rapid interchange of information and 
 conjectures took place. Sibley had already gathered, 
 from the advanced guard, the main points of Butler's 
 adventure of the day before and of their plans and pur- 
 poses. 
 
 " This is jest the thing," said he to Butler. " I was 
 on my way to the Falls to raise some men to look after 
 these darned red devils. There are too few of us, in 
 the upper settlement, to scour the woods and keep our 
 houses safe too. They're all on the watch above, 
 though. But as I had three men in my house, I 
 thought I could risk it to run down for help. But I'm 
 plaguy glad to meet you half-way ; for ye see I didn't
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 309 
 
 want to be away over night. We didn't know of the 
 frolic you'd had with 'em, Butler. But last night my 
 dogs were howling like destruction, and we got up and 
 went out, supposing there was a bear or a wolf about 
 the barn. We couldn't see nothin', though it was 
 bright moonlight. But this mornin' I looked into the 
 edge of the woods, and found what I took for the print 
 of moccasins ; and I consated there was some mischief 
 round. I tracked 'em across the ridge and to the big 
 Mopang Lake, though the tracks was terrible faint. 
 But I didn't dare to show myself on the ice, for I 
 judged by the signs that there's twenty or more of 'em. 
 So I took the back track, and came straight down. I 
 guess we'll give 'em some now, if they an't made off." 
 . " Well, that's pretty much as I'd figured it," ob- 
 served Shirk. " 'Twas round there I first saw 'em ; and 
 I expected they'd skulk thereabouts. I'll bet my rifle 
 I can go straight to 'em. Governor, don't you know 
 the deep gully where the brook makes in toward the 
 head of the lake, all sot round with high hills and 
 thunderin' tall pines ? That's the place for 'em, dead 
 sure. They can see the whole length of the lake from 
 there ; but the devil a body could see them, unless he 
 climbed a tree right over their heads. It's just the 
 place for a skulking-hole." 
 
 Wishcomet expressed his concurrence in the con- 
 iecture by a nod of assent. Basing their schemes upon 
 this supposition, it was decided to proceed, after a 
 short rest, to Sibley's house, about six miles off. 
 Thence a few men were to be detached in various 
 quarters to garrison two or three of the most exposed 
 houses, while the remainder were to watch, and, if need 
 be, fight the enemy. The afternoon was nearly half 
 spent when the main body halted at Sibley's dwelling,
 
 310 . SAM SHIRK: 
 
 having first sent off the reinforcements for the out- 
 skirting points that seemed to be in danger of surprise. 
 These latter had orders to watch carefully and to pa- 
 trol constantly, as far as safety allowed. A line of 
 videttes of ten men, to maintain a communication across 
 the front between the various posts, was organized and 
 intrusted to a resolute and trusty leader. Various 
 signals were also arranged to convey information, if 
 need required, by discharges of guns, which might be 
 heard by attentive ears over the whole field of opera- 
 tions. The force left behind might thus serve both as 
 a garrison and a reserve. It secured the settlement 
 from insult, being sufficient to sustain any probable at- 
 tack till succors could arrive, and might be summoned 
 to the front in part or in whole, should the discoveries 
 and position of the main body require it. 
 
 Great pains were taken, at Butler's command, to 
 conceal all these movements from prying eyes. The 
 main body of the expedition entered into Sibley's cleai*- 
 ing from the deep woods in the rear, and stole into the 
 house by twos and threes, so as to be covered by the 
 buildings from any who might be watching the settle- 
 ment from the side of the forest. 
 
 After a march of twenty miles, the men in general 
 were inclined to give a very zealous and undivided at- 
 tention to refreshment, both in the way of food and 
 rest. The leading spirits, nevertheless, mingled with 
 these vulgar cares earnest consultations and careful 
 conjectures of the probabilities upon which it would be 
 safest to act. 
 
 In sudden emergencies, whether affecting greater or 
 less issues, whether they occur in mighty empires or 
 petty hamlets, lies the sure test of manly character. 
 On such occasions, daring and wisdom take the ascend-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 311 
 
 ancy, just -as surely as the atmosphere rises above the 
 grosser and heavier particles of the material world. 
 Shake up a community, little or great, till each individ- 
 ual disengages himself from conventional regulations 
 and artificial restraints, and it must follow, as matter 
 of course, that each will assume, at least for a time, 
 the rank which his specific gravity assigns him in 
 the human scale. Experience, courage, genius, then 
 assert their prerogative, and maintain it upon the 
 great law of natural affinities. Thus, in this little 
 company of borderers, as much as in the armies of 
 Napoleons and the cabinets of great nations, the strong 
 spirits and the clear heads, instinctively and without 
 contradiction, assumed the direction. While, in Sib- 
 ley's kitchen, the undistinguished members ate and 
 drank, and smoked, and chatted, and stretched them- 
 selves at length to rest their wearied limbs, Butler, 
 the Dees, Sibley, Wishcomet, and two or three more, 
 conferred together in the other appartment ; and came 
 to conclusions which were sure to command the con- 
 currence and zealous cooperation of their comrades. 
 Seated around the table, on which were spread mate- 
 rials for the restoration of their physical energies, they 
 debated upon the various suggestions that presented 
 themselves for consideration. James's modesty had 
 surrendered to the superior age of Captain Dee the 
 duty of presiding over the little council of war. The 
 Captain occupied the great flag-bottomed chair, with 
 his glass of brandy and water before him and his pipe, 
 in hand or mouth. Behind him, on a stool, young 
 William sat, just without the circle, quietly and intel- 
 ligently listening to the suggestions of his seniors. 
 Butler, Sibley, and three other of the prominent whites 
 sat around the board ; and the reserved and dignified
 
 312 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 young Sachem, at its foot, answered briefly but clearly 
 to the frequent appeals made by his more loquacious 
 friends to his well-known shrewdness and sagacity. 
 Unceremoniously, but decorously, the various opinions 
 were stated and compared, in reply to the calls of the 
 chairman. 
 
 " Wishcomet, you are the best judge, after all, 
 where these fellows are likely to be secreted. What 
 do you think ? " 
 
 " They would not feel safe nearer than the lake's 
 head. They need not go any further to be out of 
 sight. I should camp there, if I were their chief." 
 
 " Then we all seem to think that, conclusion pretty 
 sure. Is there any other spot thereabouts so secret 
 and convenient as the gully Shirk spoke of? " 
 
 "None to compare with it," Sibley broke in. 
 " There's their camp, ten to one." 
 
 " It's most important of all to guess right in this 
 matter," added Dee. " Is there any way, Wishcomet, 
 to make sure of it?" 
 
 " Our eyes will tell us," replied the chief. " The 
 ridge is between them and us. They will light a fire 
 to cook their venison. We could see their smoke 
 from the ridge." 
 
 " But may they not have a lookout upon the hill 
 themselves, Wishcomet? " inquired Butler. 
 
 " The lake is nearly four miles long. The forest 
 behind is dark. They will only watch the ice and the 
 other side of the ridge. A lookout on this side might 
 be seen as well as see ; they know your eyes will be 
 sharp." 
 
 " That's the talk, Captain," rejoined Sibley. 
 " They won't venture a spy on this side in broad day. 
 Their game is to keep snug till night-fall. Now, my
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 313 
 
 notion's just this way. Let Wishcomet and Succobash 
 go with me and any one other of our men ; and we'll 
 soon know whether there's anything to be seen from 
 the top of Pleasant Mountin. I know the ground as 
 well as my way to bed ; I can get to a first-rate chance to 
 range the lake, and never quit cover neither. I'll spy 
 'em out, without their knowin' anybody's lookin', you 
 may depend. Now, Butler, you stay here till towards 
 dark ; and then let the men creep into the woods be- 
 hind here, and lead 'em quietly across, by the little 
 round pond out yonder, to the head of the Sinclair 
 Brook. If we find we an't safe on the mountin, we'll 
 come back to the beaver-dam on the upper swamp, and 
 join. you. If you don't find us there, foller along right 
 up the swale to the ledge on top o' the hill. You 
 know the big rock, close by that little old birch, pretty 
 nigh the flat ledge, don't you ? Now I will get up 
 under that ? and from there I can see all over t'other 
 side. If we need any more risky scouting, we'll send 
 Succobash ahead. If they should spy him, maybe 
 they won't mistrust that he wan't one of their own 
 men stragglin' round. In about an hour, let some- 
 body go up to my garret winder ; you can see this side 
 of the rock from there, plain. It'll be jest about sun- 
 set too, and be bright as a dollar on the west side of 
 the ledge. If we see signs of 'em, we'll all stand in a 
 row and swing our caps. Then you'll have nothin' 
 to do but to come up to us as fast you can. If we 
 don't make the signal, you must come along as you 
 think best ; only meet us, at all events, at the beaver- 
 dam, or above. If there's any great trouble, of course 
 we'll come back as fast as we can, to let you know. 
 How will that do ? " 
 
 " Capitally, Joe," said Butler. " I see but one
 
 314 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 thing more to provide for. It is six miles from the top 
 of the ridge to the head of the lake. We can't cross 
 the ice ; for we should be all shot down, or the Indians 
 would be sure to escape into the woods. We must go 
 round and take them in the rear, which will make two 
 or three miles further. How can we manage this, Wish- 
 comet ? " 
 
 " Why need we go to them ? Make an ambush at 
 the foot of the lake, and they will come to us." 
 
 " That's it exactly ; how stupid I was ! Well, we 
 must get on to the ground as quickly as possible, to 
 have time to arrange everything." 
 
 " We'll have time enough," said Sibley. " I know 
 the whole ground like a book. As they won't be dis- 
 turbed, they'll take the road that I tracked 'em on this 
 mornin'. It's the nateral one for anybody comin' this 
 way. We'll fix 'em easy." 
 
 " The sooner you start the better, Joe," suggested 
 Captain Dee. " There's a bare pattern of time for 
 everything to work in right." 
 
 " I'm ready. Come, Governor, you call Succobash 
 and I'll take Tom Bray with me. If we get into a 
 tight fix anyhow, Butler, we may naterally have to 
 fire ; and if you hear us, you must put along to help 
 us." 
 
 " I will send six men along with you, Joe, to stop 
 at the beaver-dam until we come up. You will then 
 have something to fall back on, in case of emer- 
 gency." 
 
 " Very well. Come, Governor, let's be movin'." 
 
 Butler, Sibley, with the Sachem and the rest, then 
 went into the other room. After explaining briefly 
 the plan of operations, James addressed his men as 
 follows : " Now, boys, you all know well enough that
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 315 
 
 a bush-fight, such as we shall have, if we catch these 
 fellows, will be no joke. We can't have a man with 
 us that isn't ready for the scratch. If any of you 
 mean to hang back, do it now, when you will get no- 
 body into a scrape by it. Those who prefer it, can 
 stay here and guard this house. Let those who don't 
 want to go with us, step over to that side, and those 
 who are ready for whatever comes, stand on this." 
 
 In a moment every man in the room stood as near 
 to Butler as their numbers permitted, and the farther 
 end of the room was bared. 
 
 " That's well. I needn't tell you now that the man 
 that flinches " 
 
 " Is a d d coward and a traitor ! " broke in Cap- 
 tain Dee, emphatically winding up Butler's oration. 
 
 " Amen ! " shouted Sibley, and " Amen ! " re- 
 sounded round the crowded room. 
 
 " Now," resumed Butler, " I want six volunteers to 
 go with Sibley, Wishcomet, Bragg, and Succobash, 
 and do whatever Sibley or the Sachem orders. Who 
 will go ? " 
 
 Every man, in a breath, answered, " I." 
 
 " Good again, boys. But I want only six. Let 
 these go." With his hands James waved off the half- 
 dozen who stood next him. The little party thus des- 
 ignated, trailed their rifles, and moved instantly to the 
 door. 
 
 " Go out by the back door, boys, one by one, and 
 keep under the rick fence, and stop in the woods 
 behind the barn. Keep snug under the cover, so that 
 nobody can see you from the ridge." 
 
 Sibley and the young chief saw their party file 
 through the door, and then followed after them. 
 Crouching behind the line of fence, they stole around
 
 316 SAM SHIRK 
 
 the out-building and into the woods in the rear. After 
 selecting two men to march a few rods upon either 
 flank, Joe and his Indian friend led the remainder 
 down into the hollow at the foot of the hill, then, fac- 
 ing to the north, proceeded briskly along their road. 
 
 " Now no talking or smoking ; look sharp ahead. If 
 you see anything like an Indian, take cover, and be 
 ready to obey orders."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 317 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 A RAPID walk of two miles brought the party to the 
 foot of the ridge. The waters of a swamp, from 
 which issued a considerable brook, were here thrown 
 back so as to form a small pond, by a dike of trees and 
 earth some three or four feet high and about as much 
 in width, the work of that little animal whose instinct 
 and industry are sufficient to excite the admiration 
 even of reasoning man. A dense thicket of young 
 firs and spruces grew close upon the edge of the pond. 
 Here Sibley stationed six of his companions. 
 
 " Lie down on the snow in the very thickest of the 
 clump ; and keep your mouths shut and your eyes 
 and ears open. Don't fire at anything unless you are 
 obliged. If you are attacked, which an't likely, hold on, 
 if possible, till we join you. We shall take the back 
 track, if we hear any muss here. If you hear us fire 
 more than once round, come up to our support ; and do 
 it up handsome. Jem Small, you take the command 
 till we come back. Now mind, still and steady." 
 
 " With these injunctions, Joe and his three compan- 
 ions left them, and pursued their way along the borders 
 of the swamp, until they reached a swale that wound 
 in a regular ascent, between the swells of the moun- 
 tain, to the summit. Half an hour brought them so 
 near to the latter, that they caught occasional glimpses, 
 through the trees, of the bare and storm-beaten roc-k
 
 318 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 which formed the crest of the hill. Sibley now called 
 his comrades close to his side by a silent gesture, and 
 spoke in a low tone : 
 
 " This swale comes out just on the nor'west of the 
 big rock. If the Iroquois have a lookout on the hill, 
 he will be behind that stone probably ; and if there's 
 anybody there, we must try to catch him without giv- 
 in'. him a chance to fire or run. Governor, you and 
 Succobash can worm along better than Tom or I can. 
 If you will creep up a little to the left, so as to get a 
 peep round the back side, Brag and I will foller you, 
 jest under cover of the swale. If there's anythin' to 
 be done, we'll be on hand. But don't show yourselves 
 over the ridge, nohow." 
 
 Wishcomet expressed his consent by a silent nod, 
 and, signing to Succobash to follow him, ascended by 
 the slope that skirted on the left the hollow way by 
 which they had hitherto advanced. Sibley and Bray 
 continued along their original direction, keeping them- 
 selves just in the rear of their flankers. When the 
 top of the ascent was nearly gained, the Indians threw 
 themselves flat upon the ground and worked them- 
 selves slowly and cautiously along towards the spot to 
 be examined. Sibley and Bray remained meanwhile 
 crouched motionless among the stinted growth of the 
 barren and inhospitable height, with eye and ear 
 strained to the utmost, and their arms prepared for in- 
 stant use ; each holding his rifle in one hand and a keen 
 hunting-knife in the other. After the lapse of ten anx- 
 ious minutes, Wishcomet and his follower glided noise- 
 lessly back into the friendly shelter of the hollow. 
 
 " The hill is clear," said the Sachem. 
 
 " Well, then, let us creep up quietly to our side of 
 the rock, and contrive how to get a peep round it."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 319 
 
 The four, now turning slightly to the right, so as to 
 approach the hither side of the boulder, soon gained 
 their post at its foot. It was of more than sufficient 
 height to protect them from observation beyond, even 
 in an erect attitude : but, mindful of the signal agreed 
 upon with Butler, they remained upon their hands and 
 knees until they could complete their reconnoitring. 
 
 Sibley now laid aside his gun, and cut up with his 
 hunting-knife a few of the straggling shrubs that grew 
 among the hollows of the ledge. Collecting them in 
 a bundle, he slowly and gently fixed them, in the form 
 of a natural bush, in the snow just beyond the outer 
 edge of the boulder. 
 
 " There now, Governor, I don't think the devils 
 will see how sudden that bush growed up here, unless 
 they're nearer than we think ; and they won't see our 
 noddles through the stalks neither. I claim the patent 
 for the invention ; so I'll take fust look, and then give 
 you a chance." 
 
 So saying, he threw off his cap, and, cautiously pok- 
 ing his head forward behind the little screen, took a 
 careful survey of the ground below them. Then, 
 drawing back again behind the rock, he said, in a tone 
 of high satisfaction, " By jimini, Wishcomet, they're 
 right there. I see their smoke jest over the trees 
 where the brook comes into the lake. You take a 
 look and see how you make it out." 
 
 The young chieftain now applied his eye in turn to 
 the openings in the brush-wood. He made a leisurely 
 survey of the extensive prospect in front of them, and, 
 drawing himself back, replied to Sibley's look of inter- 
 rogation, " They are there." 
 
 " Well, boys, now for the signal. Stand up in a line 
 agin the rock, and put yer caps on yer rifles."
 
 320 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 The manoeuvre was instantly performed according 
 to the direction ; and a handkerchief shaken from the 
 little square window in the distant gable of Joe's house 
 showed them that the movement was seen and under- 
 stood. Butler himself had long been watching their 
 motions through Captain Dee's pocket-glass, and made 
 the answering signal. 
 
 "Now we'll start down again," said Sibley. Care- 
 fully withdrawing from their exposed observatory, the 
 scouts rejoined their comrades below, to await the com- 
 ing of Butler with the rest of the company. 
 
 Butler and William Dee descended from the garret, 
 where they had kept watch, and reported the result to 
 their friends. 
 
 " All right, Captain : the signal has been given that 
 things are according to our expectation. There can 
 be no Indians this side of the ridge ; and it will be bet- 
 ter to start immediately." 
 
 " Well, James, the sooner the better, if at all. I 
 have been thinking here, over my pipe, that it isn't 
 very charitable business to be hunting down these poor 
 miserable devils, after all." 
 
 " What's the alternative, Captain Dee ? They 
 hunted me yesterday, and will hunt you to-morrow if we 
 don't hunt them to-day. It's a thing to be avoided, if 
 possible ; but how can you do it ? You can't tame 
 them, you can't frighten them, you can't coax them. 
 You can't fit them for neighbors to civilized men, for 
 they won't be civilized. You and I must give up our 
 corn-fields, or they must lose their hunting-grounds : 
 there is no reconciling the two. I have thought of 
 this too, and was wishing we could surround and 
 catch these fellows, with as little bloodshed as may be. 
 But how can it be done, and, if done, where's the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 321 
 
 gain ? You must release them again, with heads and 
 hearts fuller than ever with hatred and revenge, or 
 
 O * 
 
 keep them prisoners for life. All the parsons and 
 schoolmasters in Maine won't change them. There's 
 Wishcomet : he's the only Indian I ever saw that seems 
 capable of being civilized. I sometimes think his 
 blood must be crossed. And even he is as Indian, in 
 some respects, as the best of them. What use could 
 you put him to in one of our towns ? You may as well 
 try to keep partridges in a barn-yard instead of hens." 
 
 " Sure enough, James, sure enough. Give a squaw 
 a gown, and she'll tie the sleeves round her neck, and 
 hang it down her back. But this isn't the time for 
 talk ; we can't mend this matter now. We must do 
 the best we can. But the notion of taking these chaps 
 alive is rather chimerical, as you say. We must go 
 ahead, and come out as we can." 
 
 They then proceeded to summon the men for the 
 march ; and in a few moments all left the house, in the 
 same way the others had done, and started for the 
 beaver-dam. 
 
 Butler gave out his orders for the disposition of his 
 little force. " Archie Campbell, take three men a few 
 rods out to the right ; Laighton, you take as many to 
 the left flank. I'll take Wishcomet's three men, and 
 look out in front. Make no noise, but push along ; 
 there is not much danger of interruption just here." 
 
 A quick and steady pace soon brought them to the 
 rendezvous, where they joined the reconnoitring 
 party. Sibley and Wishcomet related circumstantially 
 to Butler and the rest what they had seen, and a short 
 halt was ordered to decide finally upon the mode in 
 which the information thus gained should be turned to 
 
 account. 
 
 21
 
 322 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " The sun will set in less than an hour. We ought 
 to be at our posts on the other side by dark, which will 
 give us a short two hours for all our arrangements." 
 
 " That's true, Butler ; but I think we can arrange 
 here, and very quick too," replied Sibley. " They 
 took to the lake this mornin', at the head of the deep 
 cove on the sou'west side, close to the bottom, you 
 know. Now, you remember, there's an island runs in 
 the rake of the cove, across the middle of the water. 
 These chaps won't start till near mornin', or say mid- 
 night. It'll be moonlight, and they'll keep down the 
 east shore, and cross under the shadow of the island, 
 to keep out of sight as much as they can. Besides, it's 
 altogether the easiest and shortest way to cross the 
 ridge, and they'll take it as they did afore. We must 
 ambush 'em at the head of the cove." 
 
 " What do you think of this, Wishcomet ? You 
 know the ground well." 
 
 " I think Sibley is right. They'll come that way ; 
 and if they should go off below at the outlet, we shall 
 be behind, and can cut them off." 
 
 " Just so, and I don't see what better we can do. 
 How does it strike you, Captain Dee ? " 
 
 " It's far the likeliest plan in my mind," replied 
 Dee. 
 
 " Then so let it be. Now, men, we'll take a quarter 
 of an hour to rest. Do up all your eating, smoking, 
 and talking before we start. We must push for the 
 spot, and be still as death when we get there, or our 
 game's up at once. Take your ease now ; then for 
 work." 
 
 In obedience to Butler's suggestion, the party now 
 prepared themselves for the night's work. Some ate 
 and drank, some lighted their pipes ; all looked to their 
 flints, and freshened the priming of their rifles.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 323 
 
 " It will be of no use to try to conceal our tracks on 
 this side, will it, Joe ? " asked Butler. 
 
 " Not a mite of use. All we want is to get where 
 we're bound without their knowin' on't. I'll bet 
 they'll never see our tracks, unless we bring 'em back 
 this way, with their hands tied behind their backs." 
 
 " Well, Joe, if Wishcomet and Succobash will go 
 with me, I'll strike off to the north, and try to get a 
 peep over the ridge about opposite where we take 'em 
 to be. I am anxious to make sure of their camp if I 
 can ; then we shall know better what to count on. 
 We'll come down the ridge and join you by dark. 
 But you must lead the men over and post them ; no- 
 body can do it better than you." 
 
 " I'll do my best. If I don't suit you, you can shift 
 things to your mind, after you come in." 
 
 " O, no fear ; we've talked the matter pretty well 
 over together, and I can't mend your plan at all. Only 
 be careful ; don't let a soul show himself, or give them 
 a chance to suspect. Wishcomet, will you and Suc- 
 cobash back me? " 
 
 " I'll go with you anywhere ; and Succobash will 
 go with me." 
 
 " Let's be off, then. You'd better be moving too, 
 Joe." 
 
 Butler, with his two companions, now went off up 
 the ridge, at a broad angle with the course taken by 
 the main body, which was guided by Sibley so as to 
 cross just in the rear of the exposed summit of the 
 mountain, while the direction pursued by Butler was 
 but slightly diagonal to that of the ridge itself. The 
 highlands sloped gradually and regularly to the north- 
 ward from the summit of the mountain which crowned 
 its southern extremity, and formed the dividing line
 
 324 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 between the waters of the Mopang on the east and the 
 valley of the Narraguagus River on the west. Directly 
 under the steep declivity of its eastern side was the 
 broad Mopang Lake. Its foot lay directly opposite the 
 spot where the halt had been made at the head-waters 
 of the little tributary of the Narraguagus. To reach 
 the deep bay at its lower extremity, already spoken of, 
 it was necessary to cross the hilly barrier perpendicu- 
 larly, or by a course about due east. It was Butler's 
 object to cross it two miles farther north and to come 
 out on the northwestern corner of the lake, opposite 
 to the northeastern angle, where the hostile Indians 
 were supposed to be hidden. Leaving for the pres- 
 ent the bulk of our adventurers under Sibley's lead, 
 we will follow the steps of the little reconnoitring party. 
 Skirting the upper edge of the low grounds, they trav- 
 ersed diagonally the belt of hemlocks, spruces, and 
 scattered pines, that chiefly composed the growth upon 
 the lower slopes, till they reached the more open woods 
 of maples, birches, and beeches that covered the flanks 
 of the ridge. The surface of the ground, in the black 
 growth, as the woodsmen designate the resinous trees 
 from the deep and dull tone of their foliage, was ob- 
 structed with the trailing underwood that struggles for 
 a feeble existence in the shade of its lofty competitors. 
 The verdure of the umbrella-like tops, far up overhead, 
 acknowledging the failure of the generous sap of sum- 
 mer days only by a duller tint of green, shut out the 
 waning brilliancy of the declining sun. A dim shade 
 pervaded the evergreen forest ; and the columnar trunks 
 of the thickly set trees, interlaced with the humbler 
 spray that occupied the spaces between, bounded the 
 possibility of vision to a narrow space. A russet pali- 
 sade, advancing with the advance of the wayfarers, en-
 
 -1 TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 325 
 
 circled them around ; and the deep shadow, which was 
 but partially modified by the noonday sun, mocked at 
 the feeble radiance of the western sky. Thus, while 
 the mantle of spotless snow, that wrapped in its dazzling 
 expanse the surface of the ground, rendered the mi- 
 nutest twig that dropped upon its surface or the smallest 
 stem that rose through its bosom almost painfully dis- 
 tinct within a limited compass, a few rods from either 
 side, the constantly intercepted distance was entirely 
 shut out from sight. But, in the zone where the de- 
 ciduous trees became the predominant occupiers of the 
 soil, the atmosphere brightened. The straggling bushes 
 became rare, while the western sun poured in among 
 the bared branches upon the dazzling carpet of snow. 
 The shadows of the tall skeletons of the trees were 
 drawn distinctly upon the glittering white surface ; and 
 wherever a withered leaf still clung tenaciously to its 
 stalk above, a mimic shadow fluttered and swayed to 
 and fro below. The sparser and smaller trunks also 
 permitted a more comprehensive range to the eye. 
 Nevertheless, at a certain distance, and that not a re- 
 mote one, the continuous and unbroken forest bounded 
 in the view with its living wall. 
 
 As they drew near to the point where they purposed 
 to cross the height of land and descend towards the 
 head of the lake, on its further side, Butler said to his 
 companions, 
 
 " It may be that we should stumble upon a scout of 
 the enemy hereabouts. It is far from the settlement 
 and near their camp ; and they may think it worth 
 while to watch this side of the ridge a little. I think 
 
 O 
 
 we must go along cautiously,Wishcomet. Suppose we 
 should let Succobash move a few rods ahead of us. 
 If he was seen, he would hardly be taken for one of a
 
 326 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 white party, dressed as he is. He would pass for one 
 of themselves or a stray hunter. He can give us a 
 signal in time to keep out of sight. If they see only 
 him, they would be puzzled at least, if not entirely 
 misled. But if they should pursue us, we must draw 
 them away from the lake ; and when it grows dark, 
 shift as well as we can. 
 
 " Right," rejoined the Sachem ; and turning to Suc- 
 cobash, who was following just behind, he spoke a few 
 words in their own tongue. Succobash then passed to 
 the front ; while his two companions paused till he at- 
 tained a distance just within range of sight, when they 
 resumed their own progress, keeping a constant eye 
 upon his form, as it alternately disappeared and reap- 
 peared among the trees. No interruption, however, 
 occurred ; and Butler, judging that they had reached 
 a point as high as desirable, after a time called in 
 Succobash by a gesture, and directed him to strike to 
 the eastward through a swale, which marked with a 
 slight depression the interval between two of the roll- 
 ing hills that composed the chain. Passing the height 
 of land, thev soon reached the channel of a small 
 
 tt 
 
 brook which wound downwards, carrying the waters 
 of the declivities into the lake. Its narrow icy bed 
 formed a path, at once easy to travel and sure to 
 lead them speedily to the desired termination. It 
 soon brought them to the foot of the slope ; and the 
 frequent breaks in the tree-tops before them warned 
 them that they were upon the borders of the basin. 
 The utmost circumspection was now necessary to 
 avoid discovery from the keen eyes that were supposed 
 to be occupying the further shore. Succobash was 
 again called in ; and the whole party halted to sur- 
 vey the ground, and select a spot whence they might
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 327 
 
 safely command a view of the ice-bound sheet. The 
 little stream here issued into the broad lake, that re- 
 ceived its tribute, through a small savannah or inter- 
 
 * O 
 
 val, skirted both above and below by bold bluffs that 
 terminated on the shore. Upon the outer face of the 
 lowermost knoll, a huge hemlock, upturned by the 
 fierce winds sweeping across the water, lay prostrate 
 upon the ground with its roots turned up into the air. 
 Wishcomet pointed to this natural breastwork. 
 
 " Yes, Sachem, that's the very chance for us. Just 
 such a cover, as I was lucky enough to find in good 
 time yesterday. We can see all we want from behind 
 that old fellow. Succobash, creep through the alders 
 down yonder and look round on the other side of the 
 horse-back opposite ; and make sure that there's no- 
 body watching ws." In a few minutes the Indian re- 
 turned and reported that all was quiet beyond. The 
 three then ascended the knoll in front and gained the 
 shelter of the fallen tree. Depositing their guns 
 against the trunk, the young chief and Butler carefully 
 surveyed the prospect in front through the loops of the 
 tangled roots, while Succobash stood a watchful sen- 
 tinel upon the hill-side a few paces behind them.
 
 328 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 WHEN they had taken up their position, the Sachem 
 pointed out to his companion a cluster of large rocks 
 scattered at the furthermost corner of the lake, behind 
 which opened a meadow running a short distance into 
 the forest. 
 
 " The brook comes in through that meadow. 
 You can see their smoke in the woods behind. We 
 must be careful ; there will be eyes behind those big 
 stones." 
 
 Butler looked in the direction pointed out, and clear- 
 ly distinguished the light wreath of vapor curling up 
 above the trees into the clear air. For a short time, 
 both gazed intently on the shore ; but with the excep- 
 tion of the faint column that shadowed the blue sky, 
 no sign of life could be detected. The level rays of 
 the sun glinted over the frozen mirror, bathing in a 
 clear bright glitter the blue ice and the shining girdle 
 of snow that bordered round the edge of the forest. 
 
 O 
 
 On their own side, the deep shadows of the lofty hills 
 behind them buried every object in a dusky obscurity, 
 in strong contrast with the sharply defined and bril- 
 liantly lighted outlines that reflected upon the opposite 
 shore the clear, golden rays of the wintry sunset. 
 
 " It seems as if we could see every pine twig over 
 yonder, in this pure atmosphere. How beautiful the 
 sunlight is, Sachem, among the rocks and on the banks
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 329 
 
 and the smooth surface of the lake ! How superbly it 
 flashes on the ice and snow ! and how magnificently it 
 gilds the front of the dark and solemn woods ! Wish- 
 comet, all this speaks a language that we both can un- 
 derstand equally well." 
 
 It was not till after a slight pause that the young 
 chief replied in a low, melancholy tone, " The Great 
 Spirit is good, and the world is beautiful." But the 
 admission was concluded by a deep sigh, in sad contrast 
 with the frank and cheerful buoyancy of Butler's com- 
 ment, which induced his young companion to turn and 
 look him fully in the face. He saw and appreciated 
 the sadness that shadowed the dark eye of the Sachem ; 
 and the joyous admiration that lighted up his own 
 features, instantly gave way to an expression of deep 
 sympathy. He stretched out his hand silently to his 
 comrade, who pressed it with convulsive emotion. 
 
 " Never mind, Wishcomet ; you have done your 
 duty, and I know you always will. Be of good cheer, 
 and remember that James Butler will always be an 
 honest friend to you and yours." 
 
 The bosom of the chief heaved with his struggling 
 feelings ; but he did not trust himself to speak. He 
 again silently wrung James's proffered hand, while a 
 gleam of melancholy gratitude spread a transient smile 
 upon his countenance. The young men turned again 
 to their watch, in the hope of yet obtaining some more 
 definite information. Scarcely had they resumed their 
 stand, when a low hiss from Succobash aroused their 
 attention to a sharp, light clatter on the ice below 
 them. Directly a fine buck came rushing up the lake 
 in front of them, closely pursued by two gaunt wolves. 
 The ice was hard and slippery, but the sharp- 
 edged hoofs of the deer enabled him to traverse it with
 
 330 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 tolerable security, while it was evident that the claws 
 of his pursuers were less adapted to its unyielding and 
 glassy surface. They toiled along in a heavy gallop, 
 while the deer bounded ahead in elastic leaps, that 
 promised speedily to distance his pursuers. As the 
 chase drew near, however, it became apparent to the 
 experienced eye of a practiced hunter that the poor 
 animal was hard run ; and that his airy and rapid 
 bounds were the exertions of desperate terror rather 
 than of vigorous power. Distress and exhaustion were 
 plainly visible. His tongue hung languidly from his 
 mouth, his sides were heaving painfully, and every 
 spring was evidently shorter and heavier than the pre- 
 ceding. 
 
 " Poor fellow," said Butler, " those devils will soon 
 pull him down ; they are death on a long chase." 
 
 The buck now turned his head ; and, as he saw his 
 deadly enemies gaining upon him at every step, ex- 
 treme terror seemed to exhaust his remaining energies. 
 His pace rapidly slackened, and the indefatigable pur- 
 suers pressed hard upon his heels. At last the fore- 
 most wolf came up alongside, and made a furious spring 
 at the throat of his flying prey. The imminent peril 
 aroused the flagging energies of his victim. Leaping 
 to a great height, he sprang side wise over his assailant, 
 and started off, at right angles, directly for the bank 
 where the little patrol was hidden. Butler instinct- 
 ively seized his rifle, and cocked it, but immediately 
 let down the hammer again, and said, smiling, 
 
 " What a boy I am behaving like ! but, faith, I 
 would give a farm, almost, to be able to shoot those 
 two miscreants." 
 
 " And then to shoot the deer," added Wishcomet, 
 in a tone of melancholy sportiveness.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 331 
 
 " Ah, that speech is a little malicious, Sachem. But 
 see, the wolves are on the track again. The scamps 
 had to make a long round to turn upon the slippery- 
 ice. That big gray one, that made the dash, slid on 
 his belly more than a rod, before he could bring up." 
 
 The gaunt beasts now closed again in their long 
 swinging pace, and were once more almost side by 
 side with their prey. Frantically the poor buck sped 
 on, and doggedly his pursuers followed. Again the 
 foremost wolf made his spring, and this time with more 
 effect ; for he reached the neck of the deer, and in- 
 flicted a slight wound. But the sudden shock over- 
 threw both pursuer and pursued. Both of them lost 
 their hold upon their slippery footing, and rolled 
 over and over on the ice ; while the second wolf shot 
 ahead, unable immediately to arrest his career. For 
 a second or two, the ferocious beast of prey and the 
 timid deer lay panting and overdone upon the ice, 
 within a few feet of each other. But again the wolf 
 gathered himself up for a spring ; and the trembling 
 animal beside him, catching the threatening movement 
 in his anxious eye, scrambled hastily up and com- 
 menced his flight anew, followed by both of his perti- 
 nacious enemies. He now directed his course exactly 
 for the northeastern corner of the lake, and rapidly 
 approached the rocks at the mouth of the gully. 
 
 " Now," said Butler, " we shall soon see whether 
 there is any one out yonder." 
 
 The panting fugitive came up with the cluster of 
 rocks and within a few rods of the woods, the wolves 
 again close upon his heels. But now a little glancing 
 point shot out from behind one of the boulders, just 
 visible as it flew through the air, and the headmost 
 wolf lay at his length upon the ice, transfixed with an
 
 332 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 arrow. A second shaft was immediately twanged into 
 the thigh of the other, arresting his career ; and a 
 third brought him also to the ground. The sorely 
 beset buck, swerving from this demonstration, rushed 
 towards the shore beyond, and was lost to view in the 
 dense forest. 
 
 " Ah ! that's all right," said Butler. " The poor 
 beast has saved himself, after all ; and those two 
 rascals have got their deserts. I wonder they didn't 
 shoot the buck too." 
 
 " Probably they have venison enough in their camp, 
 and didn't want him. But the wolf-skins are in prime 
 order ; and Indians know, the fewer wolves, the more 
 deer." 
 
 " That's it. But look sharp, Sachem, they're steal- 
 ing out after the wolves. They can't have any suspi- 
 cion of being watched, or they'd wait till dark. One, 
 two, three, and I see a fourth, among the stones, 
 looking down the lake." 
 
 O 
 
 They stood still a few minutes, during which the 
 carcasses of the wolves were dragged off, and the In- 
 dians disappeared again from their view. 
 
 " We need stop no longer, Wishcomet. We have 
 seen all that we shall see, and, indeed, all that we 
 want. Let's creep down now, and join our friends 
 below." 
 
 They then carefully descended the rear of the little 
 hill, and, striking into the woods sufficiently to secure 
 them from observation, moved quickly down the side 
 of the water. The night was fast settling around. 
 The shadows of the woods projected far over the ice, 
 and the lingering rays from the west were rapidly dis- 
 placed by gray tints, and these by black, till darkness 
 enwrapped the whole landscape, excepting the dim out-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 333 
 
 line to be traced by the light of the stars that now 
 shone bright in the clear cold sky. A rapid walk 
 brought them soon to the spot where Sibley had con- 
 cealed his men ; and Sibley himself, who was on the 
 lookout in the advance, stepped from behind the trunk 
 of a huge pine to welcome them back. 
 
 " Well, what news ? " 
 
 The result of the reconnoitring was soon detailed. 
 Succobash joined his comrades, while Joe, Butler, and 
 Wishcomet carefully reviewed the ground and the ar- 
 rangement that had been made. A ^ove of nearly 
 triangular shape ran up about a quarter of a mile into 
 the land. A brook which drained a series of swamps 
 entered its upper extremity. The banks on either 
 side, were bold, and swelled, at a very short distance 
 from the water, into wooded " horsebacks," or long 
 narrow hills, until they reached the mouth of the 
 brook ; where they diverged again from each other, 
 and melted into rolling highlands inclosing a succes- 
 sion of swamps, thickly wooded with the white cedar 
 and hacmatack, and fringed with thickets of alder. 
 
 " There, Butler, there's the island, you see, that I 
 told you of, jest off the mouth of the cove. Now the 
 moon will be up in two hours, and the lake be as light 
 as day. When those chaps move, they'll keep the 
 woods on t'other side as long as they can. Now to 
 cross at the outlet below will take 'em too far down. 
 They must come across behind the island. But when 
 they get into the cove, where '41 they land? That's 
 the question." 
 
 " Why, Joe, for the very same reason that they keep 
 in the shadow of the island, they will strike directly 
 over to the south shore of the cove, and take the woods 
 there."
 
 834 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " You're right, James. An't it so, Wishcomet ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the chief. 
 
 " Then the men must be posted differently ; now 
 let's settle that. We want to cut 'em off from a 
 chance to retreat up the lake again." 
 
 " I see but one way to do that. Let eight or ten of 
 the men hide down in this little hollow, just over the 
 bank. A sentry or two must be kept on the watch 
 here. When the Indians have passed off the lake, 
 they must hang on their rear. Meanwhile we must 
 ambush the rest, as nearly as we can judge, upon the 
 line they will follow. That will probably be either on 
 the side of the horseback or up the swamp upon the 
 ice. If the men are put over the south side of the 
 hill, we shall have them in flank and rear." 
 
 " Can't do better, Butler. That'll fix 'em, I guess." 
 
 " There's one thing more, Joe. Can't we contrive 
 some way to trap the lot of them. If we attack them, 
 we shall have to fight it out till most of them are shot 
 down, and probably some of us too. Now, if we could 
 capture the poor devils, take away their guns, and 
 send them home with a good scaring, it will be better 
 than killing half of them, won't it ? " 
 
 " Well, I suppose it will, James," replied Sibley, in 
 a doubtful and disappointed tone. " But blast their 
 skins ! I've got all ready to fight 'em, and it's a darned 
 pity to have so much trouble for nothing. The boys 
 won't like it nohow." 
 
 " I'm afraid they won't, Joe. But I can coax them. 
 The worst of the matter is that I don't see exactly how 
 to manage the Indians. It's something like drawing a 
 wolfs teeth. I must think about it ; and meanwhile 
 we must post the men. If you will take command of 
 the main body, I'll watch here with Wishcomet and
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 335 
 
 Succobash and four or five more. But I must have 
 good stuff with me here. There'll be no backing out 
 for us." 
 
 " Well, take your pick. I'll take charge of the rest, 
 if you say so." 
 
 They now proceeded to the spot where Joe had left 
 his band, and after careful examination of the forma- 
 tion of the land, established them in a dense growth 
 in the hollow behind the horseback ridge that skirted 
 the south side of the swamp. Butler then selected six 
 men, and returned with them and his two Indian com- 
 panions to the northern point of the cove. Here he 
 placed his white comrades in the well screened, wood- 
 ed hollow, and sent Succobash a few rods up the 
 shore of the lake to watch the approach of the enemy, 
 while himself and Wishcomet occupied a carefully con- 
 cealed post of observation, near the extreme point of 
 the cove, for the same purpose. Just upon the ex- 
 tremity of the bank, a compact clump of small firs ran, 
 like a screen, for a rod or two on the edge of the for- 
 est. Behind this green parapet Butler and the Sachem 
 seated themselves upon a fallen trunk, alternately ris- 
 ing to look abroad, and whiling away the time in whis- 
 pered conversation. 
 
 The last faint reflection from the western sky had 
 long vanished, and darkness and silence had taken 
 joint possession of the woods. The tall trunks of the 
 trees arose, dimly visible for a few paces around the 
 watchers ; but, above and around, at a little distance 
 all was visionless and black, except that here and there 
 a star might be seen twinkling through the tree-tops in 
 the far-off sky. The gentle night-breeze swept over 
 the surface of the forest with its deep, mysterious 
 moanings. Other sight or sound there was none ; as
 
 336 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 if the little spot occupied by the sentinels were taken 
 out of the world of man and enveloped with the origi- 
 nal darkness of chaos. The snow-covered ground at 
 their feet gave forth a feeble reflection ; and the stars 
 diffused a dull leaden hue over the ice, out upon the 
 lake. The snow glimmered upon and sharply defined 
 the edge of the opposite shore, and the line of trees 
 was traced dimly against the sky. 
 
 " Wishcomet," said Butler, " I have been thinking 
 how to manage this matter without so much bloodshed ; 
 and I can contrive but one way, and that is rather haz- 
 ardous. Can you speak Iroquois ? " 
 
 " Very little ; but Succobash does pretty well." 
 
 " Then I think I can manage it. But it will be a 
 nice affair. I can't do it without you. Succobash, go 
 ask Sibley to come here. Mind you go round on the 
 ice ; it won't do to have the ground tracked up like a 
 cow-yard." 
 
 Succobash soon performed his errand, and Sibley 
 returned with him. 
 
 u Joe, were you careful to make no tracks about, 
 that would tell tales?" 
 
 " Yes. I an't so simple as not to look arter that, 
 when it comes to trappin' Indians. We made but one 
 print comin' down the ridge ; and then I kept the men 
 on the hard ice yonder, till we moved off to our am- 
 bush. We all trod in one track too, till we got down 
 into the holler. The crust on this snow is e'en a'most 
 as hard as ice ; and I know 'twould puzzle old Nick to 
 tell much by the trail. I hardly think you can- see it 
 by moonlight. We've all got moccasins on." 
 
 " Well, so far good. Now hear my plan." 
 
 Butler then detailed his scheme to his companions. 
 We shall leave it to develop itself in the course of
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 337 
 
 events. After full explanation, and various objections 
 raised by Sibley and provided for by Butler, Joe gave 
 a rather reluctant assent, and prepared to return to his 
 post. 
 
 " Well, James, if you will have it so, you must ; and 
 we'll try to do our part. But why can't you let all 
 take their chance together ? I shall be all-fired sorry 
 if it don't work well, and you get into trouble." 
 
 " O, never worry, Joe. The Sachem and I can 
 both either run or fight, as well as most men ; and it 
 he will venture it, I will. I was obliged to kill one of 
 these fellows yesterday ; and if I can get the upper 
 hand of the rest, and yet save their lives, I think I 
 shall sleep the better for it." 
 
 " Well, be darned keerful. It an't no boys' play." 
 
 " I know that very well. But we'll try it when the 
 moon gets well up." 
 
 The discussion over, Sibley went down again into 
 the swamp with Succobash, and, as they went along, 
 suggested certain propositions to the Indian that elic- 
 ited from him an expression of earnest concurrence. 
 But we shall not, at present, betray their confidence. 
 They rejoined the main body, and the arrangements 
 required to meet Butler's plan were made with silent 
 promptitude. 
 
 Soon after James and Wishcomet were left alone, 
 the hour at which the moon rose, arrived. A faint 
 tinge showed itself upon the eastern sky, brightening 
 into a halo of silvery light that continually widened into 
 a larger semicircle, and deepened, at its centre, with a 
 rosy refulgence, from which at last shot forth scattered 
 rays that glittered on the tops of the highest trees, and 
 lighted up point after point of every projecting object ; 
 as if shaded lamps were suddenly hung about the 
 22
 
 338 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 woods. In a few moments more, the mellow and soft 
 radiance, overtopping the deep screen behind which it 
 had been veiled, threw strong patches of illumination 
 upward upon every salient point. The outlines of the 
 trees became visible, as if they had actually grown out 
 of chaos before the eye ; and the shadows crept away 
 into the deep recesses. Light diffused itself fast over 
 the open expanse of the lake ; and the scene, which 
 intense darkness had seemed to annihilate, was recon- 
 structed, as by a magic that breathed over it a fairy 
 atmosphere of light and shade, far more beautiful than 
 the harsher outlines and distincter characters of day. 
 
 In about an hour, the moon rode in the blue sky far 
 above the loftiest tree-tops ; and the whole landscape 
 received, through the transparent atmosphere of the 
 March night, the full power of her rays. Every parti- 
 cle of moisture, set free by the warmth of the sun dur- 
 ing the previous day, was congealed in frost-work that 
 sparkled with a tremulous reflection of witching deli- 
 cacy and beauty. The deep bosom of the woods still 
 held masses of shadow, rendered all the darker by the 
 intense contrast, until the scenery seemed a magnifi- 
 cent panorama, carved of ebony and chased and frosted 
 with glittering silver. A clear reflection glimmered 
 up from the surface of the ice, and spread a gauzy veil 
 over the lower zone of the prospect, that softened even 
 while it brightened its general tone. But the upper 
 air was lucid and serene, as if mist or cloud could 
 never dim its purity ; and the more luminous stars and 
 planets shone through its blue depths, scarcely shorn 
 of a ray by the brilliancy of the glorious moonlight.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 339 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 BUTLER and the chief sat for another hour; then 
 they arose, examined the priming of their guns, and 
 started upon their expedition up the shore of the lake. 
 Retiring into the depths of the woods until safe from 
 observation, they again turned their faces northward, 
 and, in less than an hour, reached the little hillock 
 from the top of which they had, at nightfall, recon- 
 noitred the opposite side. Sheltering themselves once 
 more behind the roots of the fallen tree, they sat down 
 to gather breath for the perilous movement they now 
 purposed to make, and to take a preliminary survey of 
 the ground. Before them spread the sparkling ice ; 
 and on its further verge, the huge boulders arose in 
 the distance before the mouth of the gully, throwing a 
 heavy shadow upon the bright surface, and distinct as 
 if the mile or more that intervened were but a rifle- 
 shot. All was motionless and still, and the deep wall 
 of bronzed shadow girt the opposite shore in a voice- 
 less quiet, as if no animate life had any portion in its 
 mysterious solitude. 
 
 " Now, Wishcomet, we must be wide awake. Yet 
 we must not make too much display, or these fellows 
 will suspect a trick, and our plan will fail. We must 
 try to make them take us for two belated hunters on 
 their way homeward, or we shall not get them to fol- 
 low us into the ambuscade. If they doubt us, they 
 will either lie still or make a rush for our scalps."
 
 840 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " All we can do is to take the ice, as if we sought 
 it for smooth walking, and go steadily down," replied 
 the Sachem. " I think they will follow through the 
 woods on the other shore. If they rush upon us, we 
 must take to the bank again, and make a running fight 
 among the trees." 
 
 " Well, we'll start in a few minutes, and take our 
 chance." 
 
 This short consultation terminated, they turned 
 again to vigilant watch of the hostile quarter. Before 
 they had been thus employed more than a minute or 
 two, they heard the hoot of an owl breaking the 
 death-like stillness, apparently near the angle of the 
 lake on their own side and just above them. The gut- 
 tural whoop rang through the air with a startling dis- 
 tinctness ; then all was silent again. 
 
 " Hush, Butler," whispered the chief, and, after wait- 
 ing a moment, added, " only one whoop. That bird 
 was frightened from his perch. He isn't calling to his 
 mate. There's something in the woods above on our 
 side. We must either hide or go back." 
 
 " I can't give it up yet, Sachem, if you will stand 
 by me. Let us hide here and see a little further into 
 it." 
 
 " Very good ; what you do, I do." 
 
 The fallen tree was one of a group of huge hem- 
 locks, whose clustered foliage threw a deep gloom over 
 the earth beneath them. Several scattered young 
 evergreens fringed the landward side of the hillock, so 
 that the whole summit lay in almost impenetrable 
 shadow. The upturning of the vast mass of roots had 
 raised with it the surface of the soil, so as to leave a 
 lai'ge hollow which the snow had not entirely filled 
 up. Butler and Wishcomet stretched themselves at
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 341 
 
 full length in the bowl-like concavity ; one of them 
 watching the lake, the other looking up the shore. 
 Directly a rustling was heard among the bushes in a 
 thick swarnp just above them ; and a large bear, rush- 
 ing out of the thicket, shambled off at a smart trot 
 across the ice. 
 
 " See," whispered the chief, " there is a party com- 
 ing down this shore. The bear tells us that plain 
 enough." 
 
 " Yes, and if they don't spy us out, he will tell us 
 too whether there is anything going on, on t'other 
 side. If they're moving too, he'll give 'em a wide 
 berth, and make down the lake, instead of taking the 
 woods again. We must be quiet now for our lives. 
 Put your foot against mine, that we may be able to 
 give each other notice without speaking." 
 
 A moment or two now passed in perfect quiet, when 
 a slight push of Butler's foot apprised his companion 
 that he discovered fresh signs of interruption. Six 
 Indians emerged from the swamp, held their way in 
 single file past the hill, and disappeared in the woods 
 beyond them. 
 
 When they were fairly out of sight, Butler whis- 
 pered his comrade, " Six of them, Wishcomet. What 
 does the bear say ? " 
 
 " He's afraid to land, and keeps down the lake." 
 
 " That settles everything then, Sachem. They're 
 going down the lake on each side, in two parties. 
 Mighty careful, an't they ? Our plan is blown up 
 sky-high ; and I hardly know what to do. Do you 
 think the scamps on this side will find our trail and try 
 to hunt us up ? Fortunately, they passed higher up 
 the slope just here, and did not cross it." 
 
 " 'Twill not be easy to see in the woods at night,
 
 342 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 on this hard crust. If they don't come directly upon 
 it, they won't discover it. If they do, they'll turn 
 upon us." 
 
 " Well, we must take our chance of that. Let's 
 follow them down now carefully. They're between us 
 and our party ; and the nearer we get without their 
 knowing it, the better for us. We shall be ready to 
 fall on their rear when Joe pitches into them. And, 
 if they turn upon us, the nearer we are to our friends, 
 the sooner we shall have help. What do you think, 
 Sachem ? " 
 
 " We can do nothing else now. We must keep 
 as near the bank as we can. If they follow our trail 
 back, they may pass us again, as they did just now, if 
 we are careful." 
 
 " True, let's start now. They're a quarter of a 
 mile ahead of us, by this time. You lead, for you can 
 see sharper than I ; and if they should chance to catch 
 a glimpse of you, they may take you for one of them- 
 selves." 
 
 The young chief rose, and, followed by Butler, re- 
 traced the course towards the foot of the lake again. 
 Singling out in his front some large tree or thick 
 
 o o o 
 
 bush, from which he could safely examine the ground 
 in advance, he proceeded rapidly up to the shelter, and 
 there halted till he had satisfied himself that all was 
 clear for another movement. In this way he passed 
 about half the distance, Butler following his motions 
 about a rod in the rear. 
 
 They now stood upon the upper edge of a smooth 
 slope, covered with a glade of heavy timber. Wish- 
 comet had halted to reconnoitre, upon the line where 
 it opened upon a little valley thick with undergrowth, 
 beyond which rose a rounded ridge. Here the quick
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 343 
 
 eye of the chief caught sight of a human figure, just as 
 it vanished among the alders ; and, in a moment, an 
 Iroquois came up the slope directly upon him. He 
 had found time to warn Butler, by a motion of his arm, 
 to conceal himself behind a large pine, by the side of 
 which he was awaiting the Sachem's farther proceed- 
 ings. Concealment on his own part was, however, im- 
 possible ; for the Indian advanced precisely to the root 
 of the tree beside which he stood. The Sachem im- 
 mediately turned, and, stepping boldly out, took the 
 same direction as that of the new-comer, and, casting 
 his head downward, appeared to be carefully examining 
 the ground as he went along. The stranger Indian 
 started, as he first discovered the chief, and instantly 
 drew an arrow to his ear. But without taking any 
 notice of his hostile attitude, Wishcomet spoke to him 
 in his own tongue : " There's no trail between here 
 and the lake. Go up higher on the ridge." 
 
 As he uttered these words, he waved his hand 
 towards the interior of the forest, pretending himself to 
 assume a course nearly parallel. The Iroquois was 
 puzzled and deceived for a moment by the cool and 
 ready ruse. He lowered his bow, detached the arrow 
 from the string, and took a few steps in the direction 
 suggested ; but, pausing once more, he eagerly exam- 
 ined, by the dim light, the figure of the chief. This 
 more careful scrutiny failing to satisfy his doubts, he 
 slackened his pace in order, by bringing himself more 
 into the rear, to be able to attack the object of his sus- 
 picions with greater certainty and security. But Wish- 
 comet, while seemingly intent upon the ground, nar- 
 rowly watched all his motions, and saw that he was 
 suspected, and must be detected, sooner or later, in the 
 attempted imposition. He gently detached his blanket
 
 344 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 from his girdle, and gathered it upon his left arm ; then, 
 drawing his hunting-knife and letting his rifle drop, 
 he turned and sprang like a tiger upon his insidious 
 companion. The leap of the Sachem was of almost 
 incredible extent and speed ; but the necessity of turn- 
 ing diminished both its celerity and force. He mas- 
 tered the arms of his antagonist, but could not succeed 
 in throwing the blanket over his head without a short 
 but desperate struggle, during which an exclamation of 
 surprise and fear escaped from the Iroquois, which at- 
 tracted the attention of other ears. Butler was anx- 
 iously watching these manoeuvres, and, seeing the 
 result, rushed to the assistance of his friend. Coming 
 up behind the Iroquois, he forced the blanket over his 
 head, and, tripping up his feet, laid him prostrate on 
 the ground. The Sachem, now kneeling upon his 
 overthrown foe, attempted, with Butler's assistance, to 
 fetter and gag him, so that he might be safely left for 
 the present, till matters still more important could be 
 decided. He was yet occupied in binding his arms, 
 which were firmly compressed in James's powerful grasp, 
 with his own bowstring, when, suddenly raising his 
 head, he listened attentively for an instant, and then 
 buried his knife to the very hilt in the Indian's bosom 
 and sprang to his feet. Snatching up his blanket, he 
 gave a word of warning to Butler, and both picked up 
 their rifles and darted behind the nearest trees. Sev- 
 eral arrows whistled over their heads, as they glided 
 behind the sheltering trunks, but neither of them was 
 touched. 
 
 By peering cautiously from behind their cover 
 through the twilight of the forest, they soon ascertained 
 that the five remaining Iroquois, of the band that had 
 passed them on the hill, were watching them from be-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 345 
 
 hind the trees in their front. Two of them were 
 armed with guns ; but neither side seemed to desire to 
 give the alarm by a discharge. But, on the slightest 
 exposure of a face or limb by Butler or his comrade, 
 the hiss of an arrow admonished them of the necessity 
 of the utmost caution. For some minutes the hostile 
 parties observed each other with the utmost vigilance. 
 But soon the outermost of the Iroquois were seen to 
 steal forward from tree to tree, with a view to outflank 
 the weaker party and command their rear. James 
 and Wishcomet had agreed to avoid firing, except in 
 the last extremity ; as the alarm so given would nec- 
 essarily derange the plan according to which their 
 friends below had been stationed. The occasional show 
 of the muzzles of their rifles, however, hinted broadly 
 to their enemies to be careful in their motions, and had 
 the effect to render the attempted manoeuvre one of 
 slow and difficult execution. The instant a dusky form 
 on either side was seen to quit its cover, the menacing 
 barrel was thrust forth as if ready to pour out its deadly 
 fire, and generally awed back the encroaching assail- 
 ants. Little by little, nevertheless, the extremes of 
 the attacking line assumed the shape of a crescent, 
 whose threatening horns would before long be suffi- 
 ciently protruded to expose the besieged occupants of 
 the centre to attack on both sides, without a possibility 
 of shelter. Slowly and reluctantly the two companions 
 withdrew from cover to cover, as their active opponents, 
 dodging from point to point, made their posts untenable, 
 until they stood upon the verge of the bank, and fur- 
 ther retreat was out of the question. 
 
 " Butler," whispered the chief, " we must either fire 
 or make a run upon the ice." 
 
 " That last will never do, Wishcomet. We should
 
 346 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 be shot down like rats. When worst comes to worst, 
 we must fire. But look out to the left here, Sachem, 
 on my side. Don't you see another Indian stealing up 
 behind this devil that's working up along side of me ? 
 How queerly he manosuvres ! " 
 
 " I see him, and I see the shadow of another on this 
 side, creeping up in the same way." 
 
 Anxiously the two now watched the motions in their 
 front, and with especial interest the singular proceed- 
 ings of the additional actors in the skirmish. These 
 last had flitted from trunk to trunk, till now they stood 
 respectively at the back of the second man from either 
 end of the curved line of the Iroquois warriors, where 
 they carefully concealed themselves, each behind his 
 tree. 
 
 Butler and his comrade now gazed in breathless sus- 
 pense, straining their vision to gather through the dim 
 vistas of the forest some indication of the intentions 
 of the mysterious pair. They did not appear to belong 
 to the hostile party, for they seemed carefully to con- 
 ceal their approach from them. But to discover their 
 character or design, in that dusky silence, was beyond 
 the power of human senses. Conjectures of various 
 sorts passed rapidly through their excited minds, but 
 no probable solution yet appeared. The new-comers, 
 however, remained but a few moments in their cover 
 behind the Iroquois, although it seemed a long and 
 tedious interval to the eager and wrought-up expec- 
 tations of Butler and the young chief. Swiftly and 
 quietly each stepped around his tree, an arm of each 
 was dimly seen to rise into the air, and the two Indians, 
 towards whom they had stridden, fell heavily to the 
 ground. Their three remaining companions turned at 
 the noise of their fall ; and the besieged pair were soon
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 347 
 
 convinced that, whoever the strangers might be, they 
 were at any rate no friends to the besiegers. All 
 doubt was soon removed ; for the cheery voice of Sibley 
 said aloud, " Now, Butler, knock out the brains of that 
 varmint on your left. Wishcomet, take care of the 
 chap next to you. We'll settle this 'ere feller in the 
 middle." Even while he was speaking, Succobash, 
 who was the other new actor in the scene, sprung 
 upon the thunder-struck Iroquois, who was yet striv- 
 ing to understand what had so strangely altered the 
 face of affairs, and mastered him before he could raise 
 an arm. A groan and another fall upon the snow told 
 that the keen knife had effectually done its work. 
 
 Butler and Wishcomet had, at the same instant, 
 rushed upon the assailants of their flanks. The sud- 
 denness of the attack and the speedy and fearful fate 
 of their companions left them but small disposition for 
 further contest ; and both turned and fled. But their 
 opponents were young and nimble. Succobash and 
 Sibley, having nothing now upon their hands, joined 
 in the chase, one to either side. The fugitives were 
 soon overtaken, disarmed, and bound ; and the four 
 victors returned to the bloody battle-ground, leading 
 their sullen, but unresisting prisoners between them.
 
 348 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 "WELL, James, I'm mighty glad that Succobash 
 and I took it into our heads to look arter you a little, 
 as things has turned out. I didn't dare say anything 
 when I left you, for fear you'd be riled. I know'd 
 you and Wishcomet are both hard customers ; but 
 'twas a pokerish job. I felt everlastin' consarned 
 about you, and Succobash here was just as bad about 
 the Governor." 
 
 " I certainly shan't make any complaints about it 
 now, Joe ; and a better friend than you, in a hard 
 pinch, I don't want to see. Those scamps had got the 
 Sachem and me into a tight corner, as plain as day- 
 light. But we mustn't stop to talk now. The rest of 
 the Iroquois are moving down on the other side, and 
 will reach the cove before us, if we don't look out 
 sharp. Here's four of the poor devils that'll do no 
 more harm. I wish to heaven the rest of 'em would 
 run off. I've seen butchery enough now." 
 
 " Faith, so have I ; but where's the four ? " 
 
 " There's one out yonder. The Sachem and I 
 were tying him, when the rest of 'em attacked us, and 
 Wishcomet was obliged to stab him. He lies just be- 
 yond that big red pine." 
 
 " What shall we do with these two live beauties 
 here ? Wishcomet, I don't see what you Indians 
 want to paint yourselves up like striped squirrels for. 
 You're pretty good-lookin' fellers naterally."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 349 
 
 " What does Captain Dee cover his head all over 
 with flour for ? " replied the young chief, smiling. 
 
 " Sure enough. We've all got our silly ways, that's 
 a fact. But we mustn't stand chattering here. Succo- 
 bash, pick up these fellers' guns ; I suppose you'll 
 want their scalps into the bargain ; but them articles 
 an't in my line. Break up all the bows and arrows 
 you can find too. On the whole, you and the Gov- 
 ernor had better keep a good one and some arrows, 
 apiece. We may be glad to have something to shoot 
 with that won't make a noise. I don't know no more 
 about bows and arrows myself than a yaller dog." 
 
 Succobash performed the commission assigned him, 
 and came back with the two guns and his belt stuck 
 full of knives and hatchets, and with a bow and ar- 
 rows also for himself and his chief. Wishcomet 
 placed the two prisoners between himself and Succo- 
 bash, with an intimation that instant death would be 
 the reward of any attempt at escape. James and Sib- 
 ley followed close behind, carrying their own and the 
 captured fire-arms. 
 
 As they went along, they imparted to each other, 
 in a low voice, their doings on both sides. We already 
 know what had befallen Butler and his companion. 
 Sibley gave an account of his own adventures as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " Well, you see, Succobash and I concluded to fol- 
 ler out a piece, so as to be on hand, if things went hard 
 with you ; and arter you'd been gone a matter of half 
 an hour, we made tracks arter you. We travelled tip 
 to hereabouts, and then sot still in some bushes. 
 Pretty soon we heard a deer snort and break away not 
 far off, and judged somebody was stirrin'. So we 
 started, and soon got sight of six Indians. Jest as we
 
 350 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 made 'em out, they was runnin' round a-lookin' up 
 your tracks ; and arter something of a talk, they turned 
 about and pushed up the shore agin. It didn't take us 
 long to cipher that out ; so we pulled foot arter 'em. 
 The rest you know all about." 
 
 " Yes, and I shan't forget it, Joe. I'll do as much 
 for you, if I have the chance." 
 
 " I'll bet you will. But we're close to the boys 
 now. You and I had better go first ; for they won't 
 know what to make of all these Indians. Jest as like 
 as not they'll fire into 'em." 
 
 Accordingly Butler and Sibley went to the front, 
 and shortly exchanged greetings with the sentry at the 
 north side of the cove. They were here informed 
 that the Iroquois had come down on the other side of 
 the lake, and were hidden in the woods on the island, 
 where they had remained quiet for some time. It was 
 evident, on comparing observations, that they were 
 awaiting the arrival of the party that had been sent 
 down the western shore ; with a view undoubtedly of 
 making sure that no danger should be threatening 
 them from behind, before they started on their expe- 
 dition. A hurried council was now held, to decide 
 how best to meet this new state of things. Wish- 
 comet, Butler, and Sibley soon arranged their plans ; 
 and James gave directions accordingly. 
 
 " Succobash, bring the prisoners this way." The 
 two Iroquois were brought into the midst of the assem- 
 blage, each guarded by a man on either side, with 
 drawn knife ( and loaded rifle. Through the medium 
 of Succobasn, as interpreter, James endeavored to ef- 
 fect an understanding with them, by which all further 
 difficulty might be avoided. 
 
 " We are a large party," he said. " You don't see
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 351 
 
 here a man for every four of us. You can't escape, 
 nor can your friends out yonder. Now if you will 
 speak to them to come in and give us up their arms, 
 we will let you all go safe and unhurt home. If you 
 keep yourselves in your own country henceforth, we 
 shall never trouble you ; but if we catch you lurking 
 round here again, we will shoot you like dogs." 
 
 Succobash repeated this proposition to the captives 
 in their native tongue. But, whether from distrust of 
 Butler's good faith or from sullenness, no reply what- 
 ever could be elicited. They stood, like dark statues, 
 impassive and motionless. Not even a glance was 
 vouchsafed to the speakers ; and their features re- 
 mained as vacant and listless as if they neither saw 
 nor heard what passed around them. 
 
 " D n 'em, Butler," said Sibley. " It's no use to 
 
 talk to 'em. You might as well try to make a bargain 
 with a wolf; and they feel jest about as peaceable. 
 I'll try my hand with 'em." 
 
 Sibley turned and spoke a few words to two of the 
 men behind him, who instantly drew their knives and 
 planted themselves each over one of the prisoners, 
 holding the glittering blades ready to be buried, at a 
 word, in their naked bosoms. 
 
 " Now tell 'em, Succobash, that if they don't do this 
 'ere message right off, in good shape too, we'll make 
 minced meat of 'em." 
 
 The threatening announcement was faithfully re- 
 peated ; but it failed as utterly as the peaceful tender 
 of Butler. The menace was met with perfect stoicism. 
 Not a muscle quivered, not an eyelash winked, not a 
 sound was heard. Wishcomet, who was leaning, a 
 silent spectator, against a neighboring pine, smiled 
 with apparent satisfaction at the failure of Joe's ex- 
 periment.
 
 352 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 " Sibley," said he, " you can't frighten any more 
 than coax them. I and Succobash will manage all this. 
 Place your men so as to surround this cove as much 
 as possible. I will undertake to brin those upon the 
 island into the very middle of the ice. Then, when I 
 give the signal, let every man show himself, and push 
 in as fast as possible ; and take care to throw men 
 enough well forward to close the mouth of the cove 
 when the time comes." 
 
 " Why, Wishcomet, you'll get into a worse scrape 
 than you did up yonder. I should think you'd lamed 
 a better lesson there. The minute they see into the 
 trick, you'll have a dozen knives into you, d'ye see ? " 
 
 " I shall do as well as I did then, if you will do as 
 much on your part. Just let me arrange everything, 
 and it will all go right." 
 
 The Sachem now threw off his own blanket, and put 
 over his shoulders one taken by his follower from the 
 dead Indians, and also pulled the eagle's feather from 
 his cap. 
 
 " Now, Sibley, pick out two men that never miss a 
 shot, and put them behind that bunch of bushes on 
 the shore." 
 
 " Here, Tom Bray and Robert Campbell, take up 
 your guns and go with the Governor. If those boys 
 won't, either of 'em, hit a dollar ten times runnin' as 
 far as they can see it, I hope they'll never see another 
 one. Tell what you want, and they'll do it, if it's pos- 
 sible with powder and ball." 
 
 The chief now bade the marksmen creep cautiously 
 behind the covert, and carefully to watch the course of 
 things. " If you see that Succobash and I can't clear 
 ourselves, you must shoot down those that press us 
 hardest, and don't make any mistakes. Now, Sibley,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 353 
 
 have these two prisoners fettered so that they can 
 barely walk. They must help us, whether they will 
 or no." 
 
 The legs of the Iroquois were now fettered with 
 gun-slings, in such a manner as to render walking diffi- 
 cult and any more rapid motion impossible. All being 
 now prepared, the Sachem, explaining to Butler his 
 whole scheme and cautioning him to place his men as 
 speedily as might be, moved off with Sibley, Succo- 
 bash, the two Iroquois, and four of the other men. He 
 halted near the head of the cove, where a little point 
 jutted conspicuously a few feet out from the shore. 
 Succobash also brought up four of the Passamaquoddies 
 that had remained with the ambush on the other side. 
 The plan was then detailed, and each instructed in his 
 part. The two Iroquois were made to advance just 
 out of the edge of the wood on to the shore, while two 
 riflemen crouched beliind the little point at their side, 
 and two more stood behind the trees at their back. 
 Two of Wishcomet's band lay also, knife in hand, 
 among the bushes close to their feet. The Sachem 
 then, after addressing a few stern words to the prison- 
 ers, in the Iroquois dialect, as he passed them, moved 
 boldly out into the lake, with Succobash at his side 
 and his two other comrades close in the rear. The 
 four proceeded steadily till they reached the midway 
 of the length of the cove. Here the chief signed to 
 his followers behind to halt ; while himself and Succo- 
 bash continued on a few rods farther toward the isl- 
 and. An Indian was soon seen cautiously emerging 
 from its shore, to whom Wishcomet made a gesture 
 to advance, and himself remained stationary upon the 
 ice. Directly thirteen Iroquois appeared, one after the 
 other, upon the edge of the island, and, not doubting 
 23
 
 354 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 that they saw their six companions from the western 
 side of the lake scattered up and down the cove before 
 them, immediately set out to join them. The Sachem 
 stopped for a moment or two, till he saw them safely on 
 the road, then, turning again, he and Succobash saun- 
 tered slowly towards their friends at the centre of the 
 cove, and halted a moment as if awaiting to be over- 
 taken by the main band. When they reached this 
 point, the Iroquois were still many rods off; and the 
 whole four turned again to the rear, and walked slowly 
 towards the head of the recess. The Iroquois w r ere 
 lured far up the bay by this skillful manoeuvre '; and 
 the Passamaquoddies had approached within a short 
 distance of the spot where the captives stood, watched 
 by their invisible jailers. 
 
 The Sachem, aware that the deception could not be 
 sustained much longer, now faced about once more, 
 and stepped forward till he met, face to face, the leader 
 of the Indian files. So completely had these plausi- 
 ble movements imposed upon their distrustful sa- 
 gacity, that the Iroquois chief started to find that a 
 stranger stood before him. Instinctively he advanced 
 his rifle, and drew a hatchet from his belt. But Wish- 
 comet, making a calm gesture to refrain, dropped the 
 butt of his own rifle to the ice at his feet, and spoke in 
 the Iroquois tongue : 
 
 " Why do you come from the waters of the St. 
 Lawrence to prowl on the shores of the ocean ? 
 These are not the Iroquois hunting-grounds." 
 
 " Cannot my brother spare us a little venison ? " 
 returned the Iroquois, in the true spirit of Indian eva- 
 sion and caution. 
 
 " Yes, but we don't like to feed wolves that steal 
 sheep and bite. My brother has come for bad pur-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 355 
 
 poses, but he is caught in his own trap. It will be 
 better for him to give us up his guns, and he shall go 
 home this time unhurt ; but he must not come so far 
 from home again." 
 
 O 
 
 The hostile leader now began to distrust his posi- 
 tion. His eager glances wandered stealthily from 
 shore to shore, but he gathered no information from 
 the survey. His eye flashed with ill-suppressed en- 
 mity, and every gesture showed that he burned to at- 
 tack the Sachem and his little party ; but the dignity 
 and quiet fearlessness of the young chief daunted him. 
 He therefore sought, before coming to extremities, to 
 ascertain a little better the circumstances by which he 
 was surrounded, and which were, thus far, apparently 
 so different from his expectations. 
 
 " Why should my men give up their arms ? " he 
 rejoined. 
 
 " Because, if they do not, they will be taken from 
 them, dead or alive" was the quiet reply. 
 
 " Can you four take them from us ? " 
 
 " Forty good rifles are leveled at you from the 
 woods, Chief," said Wishcomet. " At a wave of my 
 hand, the men that carry them will be around you. 
 Take my counsel, while you have time." 
 
 " Who is it tells Poconet to be afraid ? " 
 
 " I am Wishcomet, Sachem of the Passamaquod- 
 dies." 
 
 " I, too, have men in the forest," pertinaciously an- 
 swered the Iroquois leader. 
 
 " The six men who came down on this side cannot 
 help their chief now." 
 
 " Why not ? They are faithful and strong." 
 
 " They cannot break the bands that hold them." 
 
 " Does not Wishcomet dare tell me where my young 
 men are, or doesn't he know ? "
 
 356 SAM SHIRK; 
 
 " Wishcomet knows what he says ; and what he 
 says is true. Yonder are two of them : call them, and 
 see if they can come to you." 
 
 The Iroquois warriors had now clustered in a semi- 
 circle about their leader, in their anxiety to see and 
 hear what was passing. Impatience and ill blood be- 
 gan to get the better of discretion. Moody brows and 
 angry eyes were bent from all quarters upon the Sa- 
 chem and his three followers. At length the foremost 
 clutched their knives, and raised their guns and bows 
 to a position for ready use. Poconet himself stood, 
 dark and sullen, like a wolf at bay, longing to spring, 
 yet hardly daring the venture. 
 
 Wishcomet observed the growing commotion, and, 
 stepping back a pace, he trailed the butt of his rifle 
 across the ice, and coolly said, " Let nobody cross 
 that line ; we can hear each other very well." Hardly 
 had he spoken, when, either from chance or with the de- 
 sign of bringing on the fray, a stout and savage-looking 
 Iroquois stepped forward close to the side of the Sa- 
 chem, with a hatchet in his hand. The young chief 
 seized him by the shoulder, and pushed him roughly 
 again beyond the limit. The aggression and its re- 
 pulse both served but to add fuel to the rising flame ; 
 and every hostile savage made ready for an onset. 
 Their chief again brandished his hatchet, and growled 
 out in scornful wrath, 
 
 " An Iroquois has crossed the line, and he is not 
 dead, we will all try." 
 
 " Stop but one moment," replied the young Passa- 
 maquoddy ; and again his firm and commanding tone 
 awed into momentary quiet the boiling passions and 
 brandished weapons around him. " If you will not 
 believe me, see for yourselves."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 357 
 
 As he spoke, he raised his right arm into the air, 
 and then pointed his finger at the intruder, who still 
 stood a few feet in advance of his fellows. Instantly 
 a ball hissed over the ice, the crack of a rifle rang 
 upon the air ; and the offending Iroquois sprang up- 
 wards with a howl, and dropped lifeless at their feet. 
 
 A jell of dismay and vengeance at once burst forth 
 from the whole band ; and their chief sprang furiously 
 at Wishcomet, while the rest poured tumultuously 
 after him. But again a rifle-shot flashed along the 
 mark upon the ice, and one of the foremost assailants 
 fell dead. Poconet had, however, leaped beyond the 
 rest, and attacked the Sachem witli deadly animosity. 
 But this second retribution for their presumption 
 abashed his followers ; and they hung back instinct- 
 ively from the fatal boundary ; while Succobash and his 
 comrades pressed to the side of their young chief and 
 leveled their guns full in the eyes of the assailants. 
 Wishcomet was ready to meet his antagonist; and, 
 seizing his uplifted arm firmly in his own right hand, 
 he checked his career ; and the two stood motionless, 
 face to face. 
 
 " No firing, Succobash, till I order." Then, look 
 ing his infuriated enemy coolly in the eye, he said to 
 him : 
 
 " Does Poconet think his warriors are not worth 
 saving ? How can they run away from these rifle- 
 balls ? Tell your men to lay down their arms." 
 
 " Never ! " shouted the maddened savage, making 
 once more a desperate attempt to liberate his arm and 
 complete his blow. His adversary was, however, both 
 sinewy and active ; and still retaining his hold upon 
 the uplifted limb of the Iroquois with one arm, he 
 dexterously twirled him round with the other, so as to
 
 358 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 throw him between himself and the faithful Succobash, 
 by whose aid he was quickly stripped of hatchet and 
 gun, and put entirely in the power of his opponents. 
 This disaster of their chieftain and the address, 
 strength, and daring of the Sachem, with the ready 
 rifles of his men, kept the mass of the Iroquois still in 
 check. Wishcomet profited by the temporary lull to 
 make one more appeal to considerations of prudence. 
 
 "Look, Chief! " said he ; and once more he raised 
 his left arm above his head, and swung his cap in the 
 air. Before it fell to his side again, from behind rock, 
 tree, and bush sprang out armed men, on right and 
 left, in front and rear. 
 
 "Listen, Chief!" he added, as the loud hurra rang 
 round the cove, as, man after man, they stepped out 
 from their covers. Butler's commanding voice, Sib- 
 ley's deep shout, and the answering responses of the 
 Dees and other leaders filled every corner of the shores 
 with rapidly uttered orders. With trailed rifles, all 
 rushed at full speed, in rapidly converging lines, upon 
 the central groups. Before subsiding astonishment 
 gave room for resistance, a circle of deadly barrels 
 hedged round the devoted band of Iroquois ; and every 
 instant it narrowed its intervals, as fresh men came up, 
 and the whole ring contracted, as it closed upon the 
 central point. 
 
 " Now, Chief, are you satisfied ? " said Wishcomet. 
 But Poconet neither answered nor stirred. Livid 
 with rage and mortification, he stood like a human 
 effigy of Satan, sulky, obdurate, and malignant. But- 
 ler, Sibley, the Dees, and others instantly pushed to 
 the Sachem's side, as they came up ; and resistance, 
 either within or without, was now utterly hopeless. 
 Quitting his disarmed and sullen rival, the young chief
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 359 
 
 
 called Succobash, Sibley, and two or three more to his 
 
 aid ; and the weapons were taken from the hands and 
 belts of the Iroquois without opposition, and piled up 
 under the guard of their own men. 
 
 *' Now, boys, our work is done," cried Butler. 
 We've pulled their teeth ; now let nobody disgrace 
 himself by harming defenceless men. Sachem, tell 
 Succobash to let them know that their lives are safe, 
 if they take themselves right off home. If we catch 
 them this way again, we'll hunt them down like 
 wolves." 
 
 " Succobash, put that last matter to 'em strong," 
 added Sibley, " or they'll be for opening another score. 
 They don't look particularly grateful." 
 
 Succobash now explained the conditions of their 
 release to the captives ; and the ring was opened for 
 their departure. Sam Shirk, who stood at the gap, 
 begged hard for the privilege of a kick at each one as 
 he passed out ; but his request was imperatively nega- 
 tived, even when reduced to the moderate demand of 
 a kick " at that 'tarnal old sinner of a chief." He 
 was obliged, therefore, to content himself with mak- 
 ing up a face at him, expressive of his unutterable con- 
 tempt. But the impassive savage deigned him not 
 even a look, as he moodily stalked after his dejected 
 band. 
 
 " You might as well try to grin the weather-cock off 
 of the meeting-house, Sam," said Tom Bray ; " that 
 feller's worse than a bear with a sore head." 
 
 A small patrol followed after the retiring enemy, 
 and watched them across the lake, till they were hid- 
 den in the woods on its northern border. The victors 
 then took up their march for Sibley's house, to recruit 
 their wearied frames with food and sleep after their
 
 360 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 severe exertions, which had now been prolonged nearly 
 twenty-four hours. 
 
 It was daybreak when they reached again the 
 friendly roof, bringing with them the trophies of their 
 victory. After a hasty refreshment and a few hours' 
 sleep, all were aroused to a plentiful late breakfast, or 
 more properly perhaps an early dinner, according to 
 the social ideas of the time and place, preparatory to 
 taking up their homeward march ; for it was not till 
 nearly noon that hunger and fatigue were so far abated 
 as to make fresh exertion comfortable. After making 
 the most of the rations brought with them, and such 
 hospitable accompaniments as Mrs. Sibley's resources 
 could supply, the party started to return to Merrifield. 
 The day was in unison with their own exultant feelings, 
 one of those bright, clear days of March, that come to 
 bring grateful evidence of the termination of the stern 
 reign of the northern winter. The rays of the sun 
 diffused, through the pure atmosphere, a warmth which 
 the contrast with recent cold rendered almost oppress- 
 ive. A slight snowfall in the early morning had cov- 
 ered the landscape about an inch in depth with its 
 feathery deposit, the unsullied crystals of which flashed 
 back the radiance of the brilliant sky, as from a bed of 
 diamonds. A soft and glittering cushion rested upon 
 every surface, diversifying the bare and brown limbs 
 of the hard-wood trees and the deep masses of the 
 evergreen foliage with a fairy mantle of the purest 
 white ; upon which the beams of the unclouded sun 
 were reflected with a dazzling light, till the whole air 
 shimmered with its sparkling lustre. 
 
 Lightly and joyfully the little band proceeded on 
 their homeward route, their success marred by no 
 painful reflections. Jokes and laughter, song and noisy
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 361 
 
 frolic beguiled the road; and at dusk they were dis- 
 missed by Butler, at the entrance of the village, to 
 their several homes. 
 
 Great was the rejoicing in Merrifield that evening. 
 Fathers, brothers, and sons had returned in safety, dan- 
 ger and anxiety were dispelled, and all minds were 
 disposed to enjoy the welcome news. Around many a 
 blazing fire, the history of the expedition was recounted 
 to an earnest group of listeners. But at last, when 
 curiosity and excitement had subsided, light after light 
 disappeared ; till the quiet hamlet was left to the guar- 
 dianship of the bright moon and the vigilance of the 
 watch-dogs. 
 
 Morning brought with it, nevertheless, a still in- 
 creasing stir and bustle. Immediately after breakfast, 
 the corners and sunny sides of adjacent buildings were 
 occupied by the chief part of the population, engaged 
 in relating, listening, conjecturing, commenting, criti- 
 cising, and all other possible modes of speculation, if 
 other there be, upon matters such as then occupied 
 all minds. 
 
 Sibley had accompanied the expedition down to 
 Merrifield to enjoy his share of the glory and gossip. 
 He was to be seen enthroned upon the top of an 
 empty molasses hogshead, flanked by Shirk, who sat 
 whittling the edge of the sugar-box which served him 
 and two others for a seat. Around them was gathered 
 the largest knot of loiterers ; and even the grave Dea- 
 con Hardy stopped among them, for the better part of 
 an hour, with pleased face, to gather up the often re- 
 counted details.
 
 862 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Bur good Dame Butler's mind dwelt little upon the 
 military achievements that had just graced the annals 
 of Merrifield. She had other cares, to which she gladly 
 fled for refuge from the story of bloodshed and human 
 perversity, which was to her peaceful soul as a thorn 
 in the flesh, an irritating, painful, and altogether un- 
 welcome intrusion. Turning a deaf ear to the glorifi- 
 cations of the community, and barring out, as far as she 
 possibly could, all thought of transactions so utterly 
 abominable and monstrous to her, she merged herself 
 body and soul in the preparations for James's wedding. 
 Lucky it was for her that she had a retreat, so entire 
 and absorbing, from all external perplexities. Even 
 without this fortuitous recommendation, the occasion 
 would have concentrated and tasked to the uttermost 
 all her energies. For not even when, in her youthful 
 and undisturbed placidity, she had given herself into 
 the arms of her own earthly destiny, long years ago, 
 had she probably felt the intense interest that she did 
 for the wedding of her only child. Then it was only 
 her own quiet self that was concerned ; now it was no 
 less herself, but a reduplicated self. What was there, 
 either of extant or possible, that could lure a thought 
 of hers from an event so important, so dear to her 
 heart, so deep in its significance to her self-secluded 
 sphere ! The fall of empires, floods, earthquakes, Vev-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 363 
 
 olutions would have fallen on her ears unheeded. Had 
 the moon tumbled in upon the earth, it would hardly 
 have disturbed her proceedings, provided it kept itself 
 out of her own premises. Soon a stir was gotten up 
 in the household that was wonderful to behold. The 
 event produced in the family an effect like that of a 
 revolution in the city of Paris. Even the shootings 
 and bayonetings, the hangings up to lamp-posts, and 
 such other little episodes, by which Frenchmen give 
 zest and piquancy to their periodical amusements of 
 this description, found a parallel in the wholesale mur- 
 ders committed on the occasion. The widow's atroci- 
 ties, indeed, were confined to the brute creation ; but 
 the chickens that were guillotined, the pigs that were 
 stabbed, the partridges that were shot, and the trout 
 that were hung up by the gills might have satisfied the 
 heart of a regular gang-cidotte, unless his content were 
 marred by the insignificance of the game. 
 
 The inroads upon flour-barrels, sugar-boxes, and 
 butter-firkins were enormous ; for no coronation or 
 lord mayor's feast ever awakened such an interest as 
 did tliis occurrence, in the old lady's heart. James 
 was her pride and glory ; and if, in anything she fell 
 short in the virtues of humility and abstraction from 
 this world's objects, it was in his behalf. Mary's at- 
 tractions and sweet womanly spirit, too, had made her 
 only less dear than James to her genial affections. 
 
 The energies of the household itself, thus galvanized 
 into excited activity, were fully competent to raise a 
 very respectable hubbub. But the parties concerned 
 were too well known and too generally esteemed not 
 to call forth all the sympathies, and enlist in the service 
 all the disposable force of the village. Every old maid 
 and gossiping young damsel in Merrifield stood ready
 
 864 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 to lend their aid : while the matrons, whose own cares 
 limited the display of their good-will, were constantly 
 popping in and out to taste, advise, suggest, or decide 
 mooted points, like skirmishers about the line of the 
 main battle. 
 
 An immense amount of cutting and clipping, sewing 
 and stitching, finally exhausted the bales and packages 
 that had been forwarded from Boston to James's order, 
 in the unceasing manufacture of garments and house- 
 keeping appliances. The day of sewing circles, for the 
 supply of the babies in Africa with flannel waistcoats 
 and like praiseworthy charities, had not yet dawned ; 
 and old and young were glad to amuse themselves by 
 assisting Mary and the dame, stimulated partly by cu- 
 riosity and by better motives as well. 
 
 Great was the confusion and din, the consultation, 
 examination, criticism, and admiration ; and the con- 
 sumption of tea and doughnuts was prodigious. The 
 tongues were as nimble as the needles, and some of 
 them quite as sharp. Everything that had happened 
 in the village from its settlement, everything that pos- 
 sibly could happen, and many things that never did and 
 never would happen, were related, surmised, and dis- 
 cussed ; and many an offender was tried and adjudged, 
 with equal zeal as questions upon flounces and ribbons. 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Mary," said James, as he took 
 up his cap one morning to escape from the turmoil, 
 " when will you ever be done with this fuss ? You 
 have cooked enough to feed all Maine and old Massa- 
 chusetts to boot, and sewed enough to clothe them ; 
 and yet I don't see that you are not as busy as ever." 
 
 " Why, James," said the widow, " you'd like to 
 have things handsome at your wedding, wouldn't 
 you?"
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 365 
 
 " Not a bit would I care, mother, if I have but you 
 and Mary about me, and enough for our friends' comfort 
 and our own. We've all our lives to eat and drink in ; 
 and I should think you meant that we should do it all 
 up at once." 
 
 " Why, I'm sure, James, I don't see any harm done ; 
 and we don't have a wedding every day." 
 
 "No, mother, we don't. And I vow," replied 
 James, laughing slyly at the blushing Mary, " I'll 
 never be married again, if I live a thousand years." 
 
 " Well, my son, you shall do as you please about 
 that," answered his mother, with grave simplicity ; 
 " but now I want you to let me have my way. As to 
 being married a second time, some think it's a good 
 plan, and some don't. For my part, I never wanted to 
 be," added she, wiping her eyes. 
 
 Butler affectionately kissed away the tear that was 
 stealing down her cheek, as he replied, " You shall al- 
 ways have your way in my house, mother, saving 
 Mary's rights ; and you and she will have no difficulty 
 in settling all that, I am sure. So, if you will promise 
 to leave enough in the house to last us a week, I will 
 take to the woods for further supplies ; if we can do no 
 better than live on venison and partridges." 
 
 Then kissing Mary too, who thereupon blushed more 
 than ever, " in order," as he said, " to prove his per- 
 fect impartiality,' 5 he left the house clear for operations 
 alike distasteful and incomprehensible to masculine 
 minds. 
 
 The great wave of preparation at last passed its cul- 
 mination ; and its multitudinous waters subsided, as it 
 were, into nooks and crannies and standing pools all 
 about the premises. Nothing was left of them but, if 
 we may use the figure to its end, the broken surf,
 
 3GG SAM SHIRK: 
 
 that is to say, such matters as either from their nature 
 could not be disposed of beforehand, or were too insig- 
 nificant to cause especial care. Quantities of clothing 
 and household chattels of every sort, with eatables 
 almost enough to feed the army of Xerxes, had been 
 prepared and carefully deposited in their various re- 
 ceptacles ; and comparative quiet was restored. 
 
 But one source of uneasiness still remained. But- 
 ler had steadfastly refused to allow the carpet to be 
 spread upon the floor of the large parlor in the new 
 house, which, in a more aristocratic circle, would be 
 called the drawing-room. 
 
 This strange and pertinacious whim had long fur- 
 nished an eye-sore to the industrial zeal of the fe- 
 males, as well as a perplexing riddle to their curiosity. 
 But James was neither to be moved by remonstrance 
 from his determination, nor induced to give his rea- 
 sons for it. 
 
 Mary had quietly given up the point, satisfied that, 
 whatever those reasons might be, they were good and 
 sufficient in his mind. But his mother had neither 
 the acuteness to perceive the hopelessness of debating 
 the question, nor the energy to put it aside from her 
 thoughts ; she could only fidget along in a despairing 
 worry over this unseemly blank in the otherwise satis- 
 factory prospect. 
 
 There were now but two days left before the wed- 
 ding, and James had given no indication of yielding. 
 The carpet still remained, in a roll wrapped in its tow- 
 cloth cover, out in the shed where it had been placed 
 on its first arrival. As the proceedings of the break- 
 fast table, on that morning, drew towards conclusion, 
 the careful old lady recommenced for the twentieth 
 time an internal review of the field of operations, to
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 367 
 
 make sure that nothing had been overlooked in the 
 hubbub of preparation. Everything seemed right but 
 the standing grievance of the carpet ; which weighed 
 upon her mind with such annoying prominence that, 
 after revolving the vexation silently for some time, she 
 could not resist the inclination to renew the attack on 
 James's unaccountable perversity. 
 
 " Now, James, do you really mean to say that you 
 won't have the carpet put down on the large room ? " 
 
 " Why, dear mother, I have surely said so often 
 enough to be understood," replied her son, with a 
 laugh and a sly look at Mary. 
 
 " Well, you're just like your father. When he once 
 said a thing, you might as well talk to the wind as try 
 to alter him." 
 
 James looked amusedly at Mary again, and said, in 
 a voice too low to reach his mother's ear, " That's the 
 reason mother still keeps talking. I hope you will be 
 wiser, Mary." The young lady returned the pressure 
 of his hand which had gone in search of hers beneath 
 the table, and rejoined with an answering smile, 
 " Don't you see that I am so already ? " 
 
 Not. noticing this little episode, the good woman 
 shambled along the path of her disturbed thoughts. 
 
 " Well, but how it will look ! and then all the com- 
 pany will get their deaths with cold feet upon the bare 
 floor." 
 
 " O no, mother, I have provided for all that. I'll 
 warrant nobody's feet will be cold in that room." 
 
 Mary looked suddenly up with a prompt glance of 
 unwelcome understanding, and exclaimed somewhat 
 reproachfully, " O James ! " But she said nothing 
 more, and the old lady was altogether impervious to 
 the intimation. Mary followed James, as he rose to
 
 368 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 ^ 
 
 take his hat, and, closing the parlor door carefully be- 
 hind her, placed her arm on his shoulder, and plead- 
 ingly repeated, " O James ! please don't." 
 
 The young man looked fondly, and a little roguish- 
 ly withal, at the handsome face that looked up so ear- 
 nestly into his own ; and first of all tried a prescrip- 
 tion upon the rosy lips, that relieved the face very 
 considerably of its air of chagrin. 
 
 "Don't what, Mary? Have you lost your confi- 
 dence in my discretion already ? " 
 
 " But your mother, James, will be troubled if you 
 have dancing. You know what she thinks about it." 
 
 " Yes, I know very well what she and most of our 
 older neighbors think of it ; and that is just the chief 
 reason for my determination. Our young friends, you 
 know, Mary, would enjoy a dance infinitely, for oppor- 
 tunities for a frolic are somewhat rare here ; and I 
 should be glad, if I could, to render everybody as 
 happy as I am myself. But my special wish is to ex- 
 press emphatically my dissent from that morose relic of 
 puritanical bigotry, which makes fools of the old peo- 
 ple and hypocrites of the young ones. The boys and 
 girls will dance and ought to dance together. You 
 have brought upon yourself a long sermon, and I must 
 make sure of my audience," added he, as he wound 
 his arm round her waist and drew her closer to his 
 side. 
 
 " Now, what is the result of all this ? Simply that 
 an innocent and proper pleasure is converted almost 
 into the sinful indulgence that some foolishly think it, 
 by investing it with a half-admitted sense of shame. 
 The young folks are driven into corners and to the 
 degradation of concealment, while the old are com- 
 pelled to wink at what they can't help ; and so the
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 309 
 
 self-respect of both parties is insulted, as well as their 
 mutual respect for each other. 
 
 " You remember, Mary, the spruce beer we used to 
 make together, when we were children : it was a pleas- 
 ant and healthful drink, wasn't it ? " 
 
 " I used to think so certainly," replied Mary ; " but 
 what has the spruce beer to do with it ?" 
 
 " Just this : You agree that the beer, with a due 
 degree of fermentation, was both wholesome and agree- 
 able. Now, you know that we used sometimes to un 
 dertake to put it up in bottles and cork it tight. The 
 consequence often was that the corks were blown out, 
 the bottles burst, and in the end it turned sour on our 
 hands. Now, if you cork up the legitimate love of 
 pleasure and the high spirits of the young, either the 
 pressure will be thrown off or the bottles will be 
 spoiled, and the natural and innocent feelings be 
 turned sour. Now, a dance at our wedding will settle 
 the question in Merrifield ; and if we can put a little 
 of the milk of human kindness into Deacon Hardy, 
 instead of the vinegar, it will improve the old gentle- 
 man decidedly." 
 
 " I think you are right, James, about the beer and 
 the dancing too ; but still your mother, she will sink 
 through the floor, when she hears a fiddle." 
 
 " I will prepare her for it in time, Mary. But it 
 was not worth while to have her frizzling over such 
 nonsense for a week. She will now see, for her- 
 self, that there's no immorality in an orderly dance, 
 and that the devil don't creep into a fiddle-case half 
 as often as into well, I won't say what. Another rea- 
 son for my silence is that I don't want the deacons 
 holding a sanhedrim over the matter, to get up a fuss 
 and a dispute. I want to settle the question before 
 24
 
 370 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 they know it. Common sense and human nature will 
 keep it settled safe enough. Don't you think that I 
 am a good general ? " 
 
 " I will wait till you've won the victory," replied 
 Mary, laughing, " before I make up my mind." 
 
 " You little faithless one ! Perhaps you'll desert to 
 Deacon Hardy, in the heat of the battle. But I shall 
 win the victory ; and nobody will be hurt either. It's 
 just as sure as that I love you dearly," he whispered ; 
 applying also at the same time, in support of his con- 
 clusion, another of those arguments so powerful with 
 young lovers. Mary retreated, a trifle flurried, to her 
 own occupations ; and Butler went out with a smile 
 of quiet satisfaction in his eye. 
 
 The important morning at length arrived ; and, if 
 there be truth in the old adage, " Happy the bride 
 whom the sun shines upon," it was specially adapted 
 for a wedding. It was one of those magnificently 
 bright days of early spring when the warmth of the 
 returning sun gives brilliant and genial assurance that 
 summer is on its way ; while a lingering breath of 
 wintry frost clarifies and invigorates the pure atmos- 
 phere. Not a cloud was to be seen, but here and 
 there a little patch of white vapor, that hurried away 
 before the brisk west wind, as if it felt even its own 
 delicate shadow to be out of place in the transparent 
 sunshine. The snow had vanished from the open 
 places, though remnants of heavy drifts still lay in hol- 
 lows and shaded spots. Night brought commonly with 
 it frost intense enough to seal up the rivulets that had 
 trickled in every direction during the day, and convert 
 into a dense rime all the vapor that had not been 
 driven seaward by the strong, cool winds that blew 
 from the still ice-bound bosom of the interior. But
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 371 
 
 the days were bright and warm, and night came at- 
 tended by hosts of stars, twinkling in silvery lustre in 
 the pellucid and deep-blue sky. 
 
 Towards the close of the afternoon, Captain Dee 
 and William, and Sam Shirk and his wife, who were 
 invited to join the family circle on this occasion, 
 and Mr. Morrison, the clergyman whose quiet but 
 useful labors supervised the spiritual concerns of 
 the little neighborhood, made their appearance by pi'e- 
 vious appointment. A few brief but solemn words 
 made James and Mary man and wife, in conformity 
 with the unostentatious ritual of Puritan simplicity. 
 The bridal party then sat down, at a profusely laden 
 tea-table, to the last meal in the old house, so inti- 
 mately connected with the memories of their past lives. 
 
 A tinge of melancholy generally pervades even what 
 we consider the most joyous events of life. Memo- 
 ries and associations throw their lengthened shadows 
 from the past; and a dim sense of the mutability 
 and chances of human existence checkers the bright- 
 est anticipations of present happiness. The far-off cloud 
 interposes between us and the sun. A subdued seri- 
 ousness took irresistible possession of the family party. 
 The little brothers and sisters of the bride alone ex- 
 hibited the careless hilarity of a festive occasion, or 
 did justice to the ample supply of good things that 
 graced the board. When even their eager appetites 
 were sated, a moment or two of silence marked the 
 conclusion of the repast. Grave reflections of various 
 character stole quietly over all those hearts, bound to 
 each other by the strongest and closest ties of human 
 love. Mr. and Mrs. Wilmot looked at their daughter, 
 and remembered that the flower so carefully nurtured 
 in their own garden, had been transplanted forever to
 
 372 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 a new home, and intrusted to chances beyond the fond 
 control that had watched over her childhood. Mrs. 
 Butler sat at her end of the table, the post of honor 
 and responsibility so long occupied, and now to be sur- 
 rendered to her son's wife, absorbed in reflections far 
 deeper than the usual current of her equable tempera- 
 ment. Her fancy, usually so quiescent in the calm 
 routine of every-day life, was startled out of its nest 
 and fluttered vaguely and dreamily over the half- 
 forgotten past ; picturing to her her husband, sitting, 
 in the comeliness of youth, where now sat his son 
 and legitimate representative, and herself, a timid girl, 
 happy to nestle confidingly within his manly arms. 
 Briefly she ran over the quiet history of her mar- 
 ried life, ending with the sad day when she had last 
 looked upon the face of him who had been to her 
 almost the whole world ; and fell back, as she had 
 done on that day of overwhelming grief, upon the 
 only and darling child, that had filled the void in her 
 fond idolatry. As these half-sad, half-happy recollec- 
 tions exhausted themselves, her eyes fixed upon the 
 external surroundings of the life, so uneventful, yet so 
 engrossing to her. She went carefully over the out- 
 lines of the familiar room, just as she had once pain- 
 fully scanned the features of her dead husband, treas- 
 uring up in her memory even the scratches and bruises 
 of time, that had so long annoyed her thrifty house- 
 wifery. 
 
 James pushed his chair slightly from the table, a 
 shade of repressed emotion disturbing his features for 
 a moment, and, while his young wife looked up into 
 his steadfast face with ill-concealed anxiety, broke the 
 silence which was becoming painful. 
 
 " Mother, you are thinking of the old house which
 
 ^1 TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 373 
 
 has been our home so long ; and much reason we all 
 have to recall all we have experienced under its roof. 
 But everything must change and does change in this 
 world ; and in place of that which my father built for 
 his day and generation, I have built another more suit- 
 able to present circumstances. It will be the dearest 
 wish of Mary and myself, mother, that you shall never 
 regret the change. But there is change in other mat- 
 ters than houses ; and you must not think me wanting 
 in respect or affection for j'ou, dear mother, if I feel 
 it right to do some things contrary to the notions you 
 have been accustomed to. If I should, you will never 
 doubt my reverence and love for you, will you ? " 
 
 The widow awoke from her reverie, as James ad- 
 dressed her, but only to stare at him awhile in utter 
 perplexity. After a moment of consternation at so 
 grave a question, she seized upon the last idea of 
 James's long exordium and eagerly replied, 
 
 " O ! no, my son, I never would believe you did not 
 love me. If I did, I should die." 
 
 " Well, mother, we are safe, then, on both sides. 
 But I intend to do to-night what some of our good 
 neighbors will think an awful thing, and I am afraid 
 you may be inclined to think so too." 
 
 " O dear ! my son, what do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean simply, dear mother, that I have kept up 
 the carpet from the floor of the large parlor, that our 
 young friends may enjoy a good dance to-night." 
 
 " A dance ! " murmured she in renewed dismay. 
 Had her son announced a deliberate design to commit 
 a murder, the bewilderment expressed in his mother's 
 face could not have been greater. Again she faintly 
 ejaculated " a dance ! " and, as if the words took away 
 her very breath, sat as if, like Niobe, she was turned
 
 374 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 to stone. After a vain attempt to arrange the matter 
 in her own mind, she turned imploringly to the clergy- 
 man, as having special jurisdiction in such a case. 
 But Mr. Morrison seemed little less disconcerted than 
 herself. He, too, sat with expanded eyes and mouth 
 wide open, as if he had swallowed his knife and fork, 
 and did not know what to do with them. He made 
 no answer to the dame's mute appeal, however ; but 
 left her to flounder through the difficulty as she best 
 could. Perhaps he prudently remembered that Butler 
 was the richest and most influential of his parishioners ; 
 or perhaps he was in the very common predicament of 
 laboring under an obstinate prejudice, for which he 
 could give no good reason. Whether he did not think it 
 prudent to speak, or had nothing to say, he was mute 
 as a stone. The much exercised old lady, finding the 
 minister himself inadequate to the emergency, fell 
 back in her chair with a despairing commentary of 
 "O my!" 
 
 A smile flickered over Butler's face, which, however, 
 he repressed and gravely continued : 
 
 " I know you have been accustomed, mother, to 
 consider dancing as a folly, if not a sin. But what 
 reason have you for it ? It may be abused like every- 
 thing else, but it is, in itself, a wholesome and grace- 
 ful exercise. It is one of the most innocent and re- 
 fined forms of intercourse between young people of 
 the two sexes ; and both harmless and agreeable. 
 Moreover, mother, if you want authority higher than 
 mine, you remember that the Bible says that it was 
 even a religious exercise, and used as a manifestation 
 of worship and thanksgiving. David himself danced 
 before the ark. But common sense settles the ques- 
 tion sufficiently. I imagine that the puritanic preju-
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 375 
 
 dice against it arose, partly from its association with 
 dissolute companionship, and partly from the old, sour 
 idea of self-mortification ; as if self-denial were of any 
 merit without a sufficient reason and a useful purpose. 
 In any other case, it is not virtue, but mere folly ; and 
 leads not to righteousness, but only to self-righteous- 
 ness, the most intolerable of faults. It is our duty 
 to be as happy ourselves and make our neighbors as 
 happy as we can, innocently. The boys and girls will 
 dance, mother ; and they ought to dance. Let them 
 do it honestly and openly, under the guardianship of 
 social decorum, and not in corners where mischief may 
 creep in, and where the degrading sense of conceal- 
 ment must injure self-respect. So, mother, I mean to 
 give our friends an opportunity to amuse themselves, 
 and myself an opportunity to express my opinion on 
 a somewhat important social question. I hope I have 
 the pleasure of Mr. Morrison's concurrence," added 
 Butler, with a sly and half-comic glance at the par- 
 son, but going on without waiting for his answer, 
 " so, Mary, I shall expect to dance the first dance 
 with you, unless mother will honor me with her hand, 
 in which case I must leave you, for that time, to your 
 own merits." Thus, with a smile upon his face that 
 very nearly broadened to a laugh, James concluded 
 his speech ; and they all rose from the table. 
 
 " What will Deacon Hardy gay ? " remarked Mrs. 
 Butler, as her son hastened to her side. 
 
 " I hope he won't say anything very hard ; if he 
 does, it will not worry me. Mother, I am the repre- 
 sentative of a man far wiser and better than ever Dea- 
 con Hardy was ; and I do not forget it. Neither will 
 I ever forget that I am your son." 
 
 The widow turned her face upon her child, beaming
 
 376 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 with pride and delight. From that moment, dancing 
 was at least venial with her. Presently James found 
 opportunity to whisper to Mary, " You can't deny 
 that my skirmishing has been successful. Now for the 
 main battle." 
 
 " O, I do not care for the rest, James, now that 
 your mother is content."
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 377 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE bridal party now prepared to leave the plain, 
 small house that had so long been the home of their 
 
 O 
 
 comforts and pains, their joys and their sorrows, to be 
 ready for the reception of their guests in the statelier 
 and more tasteful mansion which Butler had erected for 
 his own household gods. The warm, golden glow of 
 a clear evening sunset was lingering upon the western 
 sky, and the tops of the distant mountains still shone 
 brightly and sternly beautiful with the last rays of day ; 
 while, over the tops of the eastern hills, the full moon 
 renewed the splendor of the vacated sky with a silvery 
 glory, that pervaded every particle of the crisp and 
 pellucid air of the March night, and which, if less 
 powerful, seemed hardly less clear and magnificent 
 than the brilliant day of which it was both the absolute 
 contrast and the worthy peer. 
 
 In the primitive and inartificial society of pioneer 
 communities, the ultimate classifications of human life 
 are undeveloped. An organized train of servants is 
 an impossibility, and "help," in necessary domestic 
 arrangements, is a precarious and somewhat unreliable 
 element. Therefore Mrs. Wilmot, assisted by the 
 widow's handmaiden, remained behind for a while to 
 expedite certain matters in the commissariat depart- 
 ment ; while the remainder of the party went over to 
 see how old Jacobs who had left his out-door duties
 
 378 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 to a deputy, in order to take charge of the fires and 
 other responsibilities in the new mansion was per- 
 forming his part. When they reached the front of the 
 house, the warm, ruddy glow of the bright fires filled 
 the windows ; and the parlor was brilliantly lighted 
 up for their reception. 
 
 " Well, mother," said Butler, " old Jacobs has proved 
 himself an efficient valet." He laid his hand on the 
 lock as he spoke ; but immediately the door flew open, 
 and Sam Shirk, with beaming face and a bow that 
 would not have disgraced the best-trained footman, 
 stood before them, to usher them in. A little in the 
 rear was his wife, Jenny, smiling a welcome that evi- 
 dently came warm from her heart. Both were dressed 
 in their best ; but it must be admitted that Sam, in his 
 flurry, forgot to remove his cap ; and the courtesy, in 
 which he had carefully drilled his wife, somehow 
 slipped out of the programme. But these slight defi- 
 ciencies were unfelt and unnoticed. 
 
 Butler instantly extended his hand to Shirk. " Ah, 
 Sam, you slipped off this afternoon, and I did not know 
 what had become of you. I meant you should have 
 had your tea with us. It was not a month ago, Sam, 
 that you and Mary and I took our supper together 
 under the ice at the brook up yonder. It looks rather 
 more cheerful here, thanks, I presume, at least partly, 
 to yourself and your wife." 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the self-appointed porter, " your 
 mother asked us to stop after the wedding. But Jenny 
 and I thought there was more to look after here than 
 Jacobs could well attend to ; so we ran in to help him." 
 
 " Thank you, Sam ; it was thoughtful and kind." 
 
 "Kind! O James! Mr. Butler, I mean. Don't I 
 owe my own home, my wife, everything, to you ; and
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 379 
 
 what could I think of myself, if I grudged any pains to 
 make your home pleasant to you and Miss Mary ? 
 and to-night too " 
 
 What more Sam's feelings might have prompted was 
 lost ; for the poor fellow broke down completely. His 
 eyes filled with tears and his voice choked with emo- 
 tion. Butler shook again the hand of his grateful col- 
 loquist, and laughingly rejoined, 
 
 " Very good, Sam. But I and Mrs. James Butler 
 remember, Miss Mary no longer thank you none 
 the less. You and Jenny will be invaluable to us to- 
 night and save us a world of trouble. If you will un- 
 dertake to be my major-domo, I shall feel much more 
 at ease, and my wife will be glad to deposit much of 
 her cares with Jenny. Jacobs can see to keeping up 
 the fires ; and if you will keep an eye on matters in 
 general, you will greatly oblige me. But our guests 
 will be coming before long, and we must not stand 
 chattering here." 
 
 The little party now dispersed. Butler, with his 
 new aid-de-camp at his elbow, went through the apart- 
 ments, and settled all necessary details. The ladies 
 inspected the refreshment tables and other concerns 
 within their province, duties which the skill and dili- 
 gence of the thorough housewives who had presided 
 over the preparations, rendered brief and easy. 
 
 Presently the ringing of the door-bell began to give 
 notice of the arrival of visitors. To many among 
 them, however, such a contrivance was a novelty ; for 
 no portal in the village had before been provided with 
 such an appendage. The uninitiated announced them- 
 selves by the more primitive institution of their own 
 knuckles ; while, others yet, introduced themselves 
 without any announcement at all ; considering that a
 
 380 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 previous invitation and the assurance of a welcome 
 constituted in themselves a very sufficient arrangement, 
 without any further ceremony. The two parlors were 
 soon filled with a numerous company, disposed in all 
 the grim dignity of fidgety restlessness characteristic 
 of the Anglo-Saxon race, in miscellaneous assemblages, 
 especially where habit has not substituted the artificial 
 nothings of society for the more solid requisites too 
 commonly found wanting. 
 
 A Frenchman is never more at home than in a 
 crowd, and gives himself without difficulty to what- 
 ever is going on around him. He is easily satisfied, 
 for the present time, both with himself and his neigh- 
 bors. But the Englishman or American is discontented 
 and restless where he has nothing special to do ; and 
 pleasure without a set purpose is to him an unqualified 
 bore. His personal independence and activity do not 
 readily mingle with an idle concourse. He is too an- 
 gular to slip easily through the throng, too intense to 
 content himself with a dolce far niente. That phrase 
 is not translatable into English. 
 
 In an unsophisticated and quiet little community, 
 like Merrifield, this social embarrassment displays itself 
 in full force. Here were one or two hundred sensible, 
 active, earnest people, taken out of the sphere of their 
 occupations and personal specialities, and dropped down 
 where none of them could tell what they came for, ex- 
 cept in a vague sense of friendliness and companion- 
 ship ; or knew what they should do when they got 
 there, but to go home again in due time. 
 
 Rows of demure old ladies sat strung along upon the 
 sofas, motionless as platoons of soldiers on parade, with 
 hands in their laps, feeling nervously for the knitting- 
 work which was not there, and all looking very much
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 381 
 
 as if they were at a prayer-meeting or a funeral. Now 
 and then, as if in protest against the solemn silence, a 
 remark was made by one to another, embodying some- 
 thing which everybody knew, and replied to by the 
 only answer that human ingenuity could devise to the 
 trite and transparent observation. The outside limits 
 of village experience were soon reached ; and the con- 
 versation necessarily sunk into the desperate resource 
 of petty scandal. But what would you have ? Those 
 to whom it is not given to be eagles, have no alterna- 
 
 o o * 
 
 tive but the microscopic impertinence of the fly. 
 
 The seniors of the male sex instinctively gathered 
 around the cheerful hearths, and stood about in the 
 genial glow, discussing questions of church, town, and 
 business affairs, mostly already worn threadbare at the 
 stores and street corners, till they would bear handling 
 no longer. Then they amused themselves with a phil- 
 osophic and taciturn inspection of the new house and 
 its furnishing, with more or less demonstrative calcula- 
 tions of consequences in the way of dollars and cents. 
 
 The young girls grouped themselves into corners, 
 where they stood, seemingly unconscious, but really 
 wide awake to all around them, giggling and nudging 
 each other, and ready to burst out into innocent riot, 
 but awed into a constrained hypocrisy by the grave 
 glances that were now and then launched forth from 
 
 O 
 
 the stiff rows of watchful matrons. In spite of the 
 piquet guard of staid mothers, and the vigilant looks, 
 like warning shots, forbidding the crossing of the inter- 
 
 o * o o 
 
 dieted lines of prudish restraint, bright eyes brimful of 
 repressed frolic often wandered towards the doors, 
 where the young men loitered, in awkward irreso- 
 lution, half tempted and half scared. The subdued 
 hum of the current small talk on hand had begun to
 
 382 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 subside into a dull, monotonous drone, when the open- 
 ing of the outer door, followed by a stir in the hall, be- 
 tokened some unusually interesting arrival. 
 
 The tall, lithe form of the young Sachem of the 
 Passamaquoddies entered into the room with the free, 
 elastic step of the forest. The chief wore a dark blue 
 tunic, girt round the waist with an elaborately em- 
 broidered belt of wampum. A silver medal, the gov- 
 ernmental indorsement of his hereditary rank, lay on 
 his manly bosom suspended by a scarlet ribbon. Doe- 
 skin leggings, fringed along the outer seam, met his 
 richly worked moccasins. A blanket lined with otter- 
 skins hung from his left arm ; and he carried in his 
 hand a blue cap, edged with a broad gold lace and cir- 
 cled with the emblematic eagle's feather. 
 
 O 
 
 Well known as he was to all, every eye was at- 
 tracted for a moment by his picturesque and dignified 
 appearance, but only to rest, with still deeper interest 
 and admiration, upon a young Indian girl that clung to 
 his side, half bewildered by the novelty of the scene 
 around her. Slender, graceful, and pliant as a reed, 
 the dark, short cloak lined with sable-skins and con- 
 fined about her waist with a sash, though it covered 
 her figure, could not hide the free grace of her motions, 
 or the sinuous and delicate symmetry of her form. 
 The little moccasin, gayly wrought with porcupine 
 quills, neatly cased a foot and ankle that showed the 
 high-arched and exquisitely moulded contour so often 
 seen in the Indian woman ; and her wrists and hands 
 were of corresponding delicacy. Her lovely face re- 
 called the somewhat harsh outline of aboriginal physi- 
 ognomy only in the severely pure and clean-cut pro- 
 file of her features. Her dark eyes, of a soft, lustrous 
 brilliancy; long, straight, 'raven-black hair, and pearly
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 383 
 
 teeth, relieved the tawny skin, so as to make it a beauty, 
 in its own peculiar way, rather than a defect; espe- 
 cially when the bright flush of emotion mantled, dis- 
 tinctly but subduedly visible, through the clear and del- 
 icate though dark complexion. This deep-hued flower 
 of the woods was indeed surpassingly beautiful, in the 
 particular type of her race. The whole effect was of 
 a wild loveliness, as of some half-divine nymph of the 
 forest, a hamadryad of Grecian poetry, done in dusky 
 marble. 
 
 A low murmur of admiration followed the hush of 
 surprise that first greeted the appearance of these two 
 splendid children of Nature, perfect in the graces of 
 their unconstrained development, yet removed by dig- 
 nity of station and an appreciation of the general prin- 
 ciples of a more refined civilization, from the rudeness 
 and squalor of savage life. 
 
 The Sachem advanced a few steps into the room, 
 with his timid and beautiful companion nestling close 
 to his side, as a partridge hides under the shelter of a 
 bush. Butler saw and advanced to meet him, with 
 extended hand. 
 
 " Wishcomet, my friend, you are welcome to my 
 house always, and especially to-night. You got my 
 message, then ? " 
 
 " Yes. Succobash brought faithfully to his chief 
 your errand. And "Wishcomet knows," added the 
 young chief proudly, " that his own wigwam is always 
 open to his white friend ; and he would have come un- 
 bidden, when he heard that your heart was wide open 
 with joy, that he might rejoice with you at your wed- 
 ding-feast." 
 
 " Right, Sachem ; and this beautiful flower that 
 blooms under my friend's shadow ? " said Butler in-
 
 384 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 quiringly, and instinctively adopting the natural meta- 
 phor of Indian speech, as he looked courteously to- 
 wards the Indian damsel. 
 
 " Yamouna is a daughter of the Penobscot Sachem, 
 and is Wishcomet's wife, according to our customs. 
 But I wished to have been married by the same priest 
 and at the same time with my friend, for you have 
 taught me of the white man's God. He is the same 
 great, good Spirit our fathers worshipped; but you 
 know him better than we, as you do everything else. 
 Yamouna tired on the way, and I am come too late." 
 
 " Not so, Chief; as well now as an hour or two ago. 
 The clergyman is here, and so are all your white 
 friends. We will hold our wedding-feast together. 
 But first to refresh yourselves. 
 
 " Mary, take this wild flower to your room with you ; 
 and, Wishcomet, come with me. Our friends will ex- 
 cuse us for a few minutes." 
 
 The new comers retired with their kindly hosts to 
 arrange themselves, leaving the company to discuss 
 the unexpected incident which excited so great and 
 general interest ; for, as we know, the young Sachem 
 was both respected and liked. Shirk came near rais- 
 ing a quarrel with a youngster, who, bewitched with 
 the beauty of the Indian girl, expressed his opinion 
 that the native pair fairly rivaled their host and 
 hostess. 
 
 " Wishcomet's a grand fellow, and his little squaw 
 is handsome as a picture. But nobody shall say, in 
 my hearing, that he's equal to James Butler, or she's 
 as handsome as Mary Wilmot ; now, I tell you that, 
 Bill Young." 
 
 But Bill, thus sharply brought to account, avowed 
 his admiration for the objects of Sam's idolatry in
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 385 
 
 terms so hearty and unequivocal as to appease his 
 hasty indignation ; and harmony was restored again. 
 
 It did not require long to adjust the simple toilet 
 of the children of the woods ; and, after a slight re- 
 freshment, they returned to the expectant company. 
 Wishcomet led his timid bride by the hand, supported 
 by Mary, while James stood by the Sachem. Perhaps 
 no four beings ever stood side by side, embodying a 
 finer and more instructive pyschologic lesson. Rep- 
 resentin g in high perfection the distinctive types of 
 their races, four human spirits, in the fresh glow and 
 energy of youth, alike worthy, pure, and true to their 
 capacities and position, alike thorough and high devel- 
 opments of excellence in their appointed sphere ; yet 
 how different in fortunes, though so like in moral 
 seeming ! The open, manly, and broad intelligence of 
 Butler, buoyant with conscious power and sparkling 
 with the assurance of successful anticipation, contrasted 
 strongly with the melancholy, concentrated, fate-com- 
 pelled intensity of his Indian friend, adequate to its 
 own proud consciousness, but bowing,'in uncomplaining 
 dignity and manly stoicism, to an inexorable destiny. 
 The fair, bright beauty of Mary, confident in her own 
 educated powers, confident in the happy and upward 
 aspects of all her surroundings, contrasted no less 
 strikingly with the dark perfection of her sister grace, 
 with no hold on earth, no hope, no stay but the deep 
 untutored instincts that twined around a being noble, 
 yet nearly helpless as herself, whom she loved with the 
 untaught love of woman. It was, on one side, like the 
 rosy calm morning, surely brightening to the full noon ; 
 on the other, the rich splendor of the evening sky, 
 shadowed and saddened by fast approaching darkness. 
 
 What human insight can comprehend the vast
 
 386 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 schemes and deep mysteries of Providence ! The 
 feeble light of our intelligence often serves but to be- 
 wilder and mislead our anxious speculation. So far 
 from holding steadily the balance of right and wrong, 
 our utmost comprehension only suffices to tell us that 
 whatever is, is ; our deepest investigation, but blindly 
 to prove that " whatever is, is right." 
 
 Mr. Morrison arose, as did the whole company, as 
 the bridal party took its station. After a short and 
 touching prayer, for though somewhat straight-laced, 
 he was a man of kindly feelings and some respectable 
 degree of intellect, the clergyman pronounced the 
 brief words that tie the sacred bond, upon which the 
 personal sympathies and the duties and interests of two 
 lives are to be woven. 
 
 At the conclusion of the ceremony, Butler cordially 
 shook hands with the new couple, while Mary kissed 
 > the bride affectionately. " Wishcomet," said James, 
 " it is hardly a month since you and I were fighting 
 the Iroquois together ; and glad enough was I to have 
 you at my side then. You must stay with us awhile, 
 and help us to enjoy ourselves now, you and Ya- 
 mouna." 
 
 The young chief returned his friend's grasp, and 
 replied, " We will stay. The bread of our friends is 
 sweet to us." He then made a signal to Shirk, who 
 thereupon brought him a neatly rolled package. The 
 Sachem, unfolding it, held up a rich robe of soft, glossy 
 sable-skins, which he gently laid with a bow over 
 Mary's shoulders. He also handed at the same time 
 to his wife a pair of moccasins, richly worked with por- 
 cupine quills and lined with the same rare fur, from 
 the interior of the parcel, which she presented with a 
 shy smile to Butler. Mary acknowledged the gift of
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 387 
 
 the chief by another kiss to his young wife ; while 
 Butler, as he restored the tasteful presents to the care 
 of Sam, expressed his own thanks. 
 
 " Many thanks, Wishcoraet, for your beautiful and 
 friendly gifts. Mary and I have something which we 
 shall by and by ask you and Yamouna to take from us, 
 to keep bright the recollection of our mutual regard. 
 But now, Chief, for the wedding festivities, yours and 
 mine. My people, like yours, dance when their hearts 
 are glad, as indeed do all the peoples of the earth. 
 Will you and Yamouna help us lead the way for our 
 friends ? These contra- dances are simple ; and you 
 will easily follow us, if you will forgive our taking the 
 lead to show you the figure. Then, when our guests 
 have earned their appetites, we will have some supper ; 
 and you shall retire to rest or remain, as you may 
 please, with this travel-worn tender one." 
 
 The chief nodded assent, and Mary and Butler led 
 the way towards the folding-doors that opened into the 
 hitherto closed drawing-room. Sam Shirk slid back the 
 doors at Butler's intimation ; and the large, well-pro- 
 portioned room was disclosed to the admiring gaze of 
 all, flashing with an inspiriting brilliancy, that glowed 
 and sparkled from the crystal pendants of a handsome 
 chandelier which hung from its ceiling. A very tol- 
 erable orchestra of two violins and a flute struck up a 
 lively measure ; and at the same moment, a youngster, 
 previously, but privately, commissioned for the pur- 
 pose, proclaimed in a loud voice, 
 
 " Young gentlemen, please select your partners for 
 a contra-dance." 
 
 The scene might then well have arrested the eye 
 of a Hogarth. The young people seemed inspired, at 
 once, with some irresistible spell of hilarity and activ-
 
 388 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 ity. The frost of awkwardness and restraint melted 
 away. The young men that had been hanging about 
 bashfully in by-places, dashed eagerly into the throng, 
 anxious to secure a favorite partner. The damsels 
 ceased their uneasy giggling and fidgetty nestling, and 
 awaited in fluttering expectancy the fulfillment of 
 smothered hopes and fears. But generally, every 
 Jack found his Gill ; and a happy crowd, with their 
 hearts full of the strongest and most genial feelings 
 of human nature, followed their leaders to the bright 
 scene of that pleasure, whose outward manifestation 
 was underlaid with the deep and natural tendencies 
 of youth and joy. 
 
 But this unexpected episode did not affect all the 
 spectators alike. We have already said that the inno- 
 cent amusement of dancing lay decidedly under the 
 ban of Puritan asceticism. Among the graver por- 
 tion, even of the last generation, it was accounted, if 
 not one of the chief devices of the devil, at least 
 very far from Scriptural rectitude. A certain portion 
 of the company, therefore, found themselves in a grave 
 dilemma. 
 
 Deacon Hardy sat grim and defiant in his chair, 
 like a man entrapped but not conquered, a picture of 
 outraged sanctity. The junior deacon looked at his 
 colleague and endeavored to model his countenance 
 after the severe gravity of his senior's face ; while the 
 clergyman cast his eyes upon the floor in a desperate 
 non-commitalism, awaiting the issue of events. Old 
 Mrs. Butler anxiously watched all three of the digni- 
 taries of the church, and, seeing no outward manifes- 
 tation of opposition, concluded, in her innocent simpli- 
 city, that everything was right, after all ; and falling 
 happily back upon her confidence in James's judgment,
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 389 
 
 went to look upon the dance, a sight she had hardly ever 
 before seen in her life. The responsible parties to the 
 offense being thus withdrawn and clearly gone over to 
 the enemy of souls, the dissentients were perforce 
 compelled to confine themselves to a helpless inter- 
 change of low and muttered condolences and testimo- 
 nies of horror and dismay, that worried nobody but 
 themselves. Decent courtesy to their entertainers, 
 surprise and a mortifying sense of being outwitted, as 
 well as the important fact that they could devise no 
 tenable ground of condemnation, effectually repressed 
 any open resistance to the bold innovation. They 
 were defeated before they knew the battle was upon 
 them. The enlivening strains of the music and the 
 brilliant show and joyous merriment of the ball-room 
 combined with curiosity to draw almost everybody 
 to the scene of festivity, and committed them to the 
 complicity of passive spectators, if not to the sin of 
 participation in the offense. Once within the range 
 of the fascination, nature and common sense did the 
 rest. The dignity and gentlemanly ease of Butler, 
 the grace of Mary, the free, elastic motion of Wish- 
 comet and his beautiful young bride, the decorous 
 pleasure of all, even the uncouth and immeasurable 
 delight evinced in the boisterous movements of the 
 less practiced performers, afforded small ground for 
 censure or criticism. Soon mothers began to follow, 
 with interest and pride, the graceful evolutions and 
 youthful buoyancy of blooming daughters, and even 
 to initiate quietly, in their maternal bosoms, private 
 speculations upon life-partnerships. Even hard-faced 
 and practical fathers thought once more, as they 
 watched a manly son, of the soft emotions or ardent 
 and headlong passions, that, in days gone by, had
 
 390 SAM SHIRK: 
 
 thawed through the icy frigidity of New England form- 
 alism, and grew younger and happier for the thought. 
 When the music ceased, a low buzz of satisfaction and, 
 as it were, of general congratulation, followed the re- 
 tiring couples ; and when Butler led his wife to her 
 seat, he whispered in her ear, 
 
 " What do you think now, Mary ? The day is won 
 without even the show of a fight." 
 
 " O, you have outdone both Washington and Frank- 
 lin," was the laughing reply. 
 
 In truth the victory was complete. When the 
 dancing was resumed, every one that had the smallest 
 skill in the graceful mysteries of Terpsichore, with 
 some, it must be confessed, who seemed to have been 
 heretofore strangers to her temple, were speedily on 
 foot and eager for the pleasure. 
 
 The older guests, whose heads had altogether got 
 the better of their heels, crowded round, amused 
 and delighted spectators, except a row of sour old 
 crones, chiefly spinsters of indisputable standing, and 
 a few starched and unyielding dogmatists, like Deacon 
 Hardy. But dancing had become an institution in 
 Merrifield, in spite of them. 
 
 These complacent worthies kept aloof in gloomy 
 and self-denying protest ; though it was remarkable 
 that their austerity did not disdain the sofas and most 
 comfortable and luxurious seats. In dignified ease, 
 they solemnly shook their heads, groaned over the de- 
 generacy of the times, and prophesied of the evil yet to 
 come of this unprecedented enormity. But as nothing 
 did come of it, worse than three or four weddings, 
 which were distinctly traceable to this evening as their 
 proximate cause, these dark denunciations fell harm- 
 less to the ground.
 
 A TALE OF THE WOODS OF MAINE. 391 
 
 After three or four dances had promoted an appe- 
 tite, a bounteous supper, in which the zesty luxuries 
 of the woods and brooks were combined with every 
 trick of culinary art known in that region, exercised 
 its mollifying influence over the latent irritation of the 
 malcontents. There is as much difference between men 
 and women, before and after a plentiful and genial re- 
 past, as between a well-fed and a hungry wolf. The 
 venerable old tabbies were softened down to a mild 
 feeling of devout self-righteousness, by the abundant 
 delicacies and a copious supply of tea, and partially 
 forgot the sins of others in the agreeable contemplation 
 of their own virtue. It was even said that, when the 
 dancing recommenced after supper, Deacon Hardy 
 was surprised in the act of peeping over the shoulders 
 of the rearmost of the crowd, to catch a sight of the 
 merry go-round of a Virginia reel. Before midnight 
 the villagers of Merrifield retired to rest, happier and 
 probably wiser than before ; and the wedding party 
 became a fixed and imperishable era in their annals. 
 
 Sam Shirk declared the next day, to an unanimously 
 assentient crowd of youths assembled to discuss the 
 events of the evening, " There an't no such man as 
 James Butler anywhere. It was just the best time 
 that ever was or ever will be ; and sooner than not 
 have been there, I'd have given my rifle, though it's a 
 rouser, and all the one I've got." 
 
 THE END.