Chapter 3 - Page 2

surface of
the four hundred acres smooth and fit for the plough. The soil was the
deposit of centuries, and the inclination, from the woods to the
stream, was scarcely perceptible to the eye. In fact, it was barely
sufficient to drain the drippings of the winter's snows. The form of
the area was a little irregular; just enough so to be picturesque;
while the inequalities were surprisingly few and trifling. In a word,
nature had formed just such a spot as delights the husbandman's heart,
and placed it beneath a sun which, while its fierceness is relieved by
winters of frost and snow, had a power to bring out all its latent
resources.

Trees had been felled around the whole area, with the open spaces
filled by branches, in a way to form what is termed a brush fence. This
is not a sightly object, and the captain had ordered the line to be
drawn _within_ the woods, so that the visible boundaries of the
open land were the virgin forest itself. His men had protested against
this, a fence, however unseemly, being in their view an indispensable
accessory to civilization. But the captain's authority, if not his
better taste, prevailed; and the boundary of felled trees and brush was
completely concealed in the back-ground of woods. As yet, there was no
necessity for cross-fences, the whole open space lying in a single
field. One hundred acres were in winter wheat. As this grain had been
got in the previous autumn, it was now standing on the finest and
driest of the soil, giving an air of rich fertility to the whole basin.
Grass-seed had been sown along both banks of the stream, and its waters
were quietly flowing between two wide belts of fresh verdure, the young
plants having already started in that sheltered receptacle of the sun's
rays. Other portions of the flat showed signs of improvement, the
plough having actually been at work for quite a fortnight.

All this was far more than even the captain had expected, and much more
than his wife had dared to hope. Mrs. Willoughby had been accustomed to
witness the slow progress of a new settlement; but never before had she
seen what might be done on a beaver-dam. To her all appeared like
magic, and her first question would have been to ask her husband to
explain what had been done with the trees and stumps, had not her
future residence caught her eye. Captain Willoughby had left his orders
concerning the house, previously to quitting the Knoll; and he was now
well pleased to perceive that they had been attended to. As this spot
will prove the scene of many of the incidents we are bound to relate,
it may be proper, here, to describe it, at some length.

The hillock that rose out of the pond, in the form of a rocky little
island, was one of those capricious