Chapter 8 - Page 2

return to a bondage he had found
so irksome. It was April; but it was April as the month was known a
century ago in Connecticut, and as it is even now so often found to
disappoint all expectations of that capricious season of the year. The
weather had returned suddenly and violently to the rigor of winter. A thaw
had been succeeded by a storm of snow and sleet, and the interlude of the
spring-time of blossoms had terminated with a biting gale from the
north-west, which had apparently placed a permanent seal on the lingering
presence of a second February.

On the morning that Content led his followers into the forest, they issued
from the postern clad in coats of skin. Their lower limbs were protected
by the coarse leggings which they had worn in so many previous hunts,
during the past winter, if that might be called past which had returned,
weakened but little of its keenness, and bearing all the outward marks of
January. When last seen, Eben Dudley, the heaviest of the band, was moving
firmly on the crust of the snow, with a step as sure as if he had trodden
on the frozen earth itself. More than one of the maidens declared, that
though they had endeavored to trace the footsteps of the hunters from the
palisadoes, it would have exceeded even the sagacity of an Indian eye to
follow their trail along the icy path they travelled.

Hour after hour passed, without bringing tidings from the chase. The
reports of fire-arms had indeed been occasionally heard, ringing among the
arches of the woods; and broken echoes were, for some hours, rolling from
one recess of the hills to another. But even these signs of the presence
of the hunters gradually receded with the advance of the day; and, long
ere the sun had gained the meridian, and its warmth, at that advanced
season not without power, was shed into the valley, the whole range of the
adjoining forest lay in its ordinary dull and solemn silence.

The incident of the hunt, apart from the absence of the Indian boy, was
one of too common occurrence to give birth to any particular motives of
excitement. Ruth quietly busied herself among her women, and when the
recollection of those who were scouring the neighboring forest came at all
to her mind, it was coupled with the care with which she was providing to
administer to their comforts after the fatigue of a day of extraordinary
personal efforts. This was a duty never lightly performed. Her situation
was one eminently fitted to foster the best affections of woman, since it
admitted of few temptations to yield to other than the most natural
feeling; she was, in consequence, known on all occasions to exercise them
with the devotedness of her sex.

"Thy father and his companions will look on our care with