USA > Connecticut > Litchfield County > Litchfield > More chronicles of a pioneer school, from 1792 to 1833, being added history on the Litchfield Female Academy kept by Miss Sarah Pierce and her nephew, John Pierce Brace > Part 27
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With no hesitation - for the whole operation occupied much less time than we have taken in its relation - he proceeded to crawl on the face of the cliff on a projection not more than four inches wide in some places. We call it crawling - for it could hardly be anything else - for his face was close to the perpendicular cliff and his hands were grasping the naked projections above him as he shoved his feet along on the narrow shelf.
Those below were held in breathless suspense. Where they stood, they could not see even the ledge on which his feet rested, though they saw his aim, and it seemed to them that at every side way move- ment he made in shoving one foot on the snowy margin, and then dragging the other after it, that he would fall backward and be dashed to pieces on the debris of the mountain around them. Their shouting ceased and each eye was anxiously fixed.
But James Hinsdale knew what he was about. He had no fear in his composition - not enough even for ballast. He never relin- quished his grasp with one hand until he had a firm hold with the other. But the task of holding on was a difficult one. The snow made the slate slippery, and often, if his fingers had not possessed the gripe of a vice, he would have been lost.
He reached the wide ledge, however, where he could turn, and, without waiting to rest or take breath, let himself down into the limbs of a gnarled birch tree that was growing upon the face of the rock. The descent was now easy until he reached the ledge imme- diately above the wolf's den. He heard the animal growl, and, in his eagerness to descend that cliff, he slipped and slid down to the very
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entrance of the cave. The wolf, seeing him slide, sprang out and seized him by the shoulder as soon as he touched the ground. Happily it was the left shoulder, but the animal's tusks went deep into the flesh, and the blood began to discolor the snow. James was paralyzed at first - the suddenness of the slide and the shock of the attack bore him down on his back against one of the rocks that concealed the mouth of the cave, and it was a second or so before he rallied his thoughts. The pain of the arm aroused him and he reached for his knife, but the animal lay on that and he could not grasp it. He seized the wolf by the throat with his right hand and endeavored to choke her as she lay upon him. With the immense strength he possessed, he straightened himself upon his feet, still holding the wolf by the throat and feeling for his knife with his left hand, he plunged it into the wolf's side. But his left hand was almost powerless and he gave his fierce enemy but a slight wound.
This motion of his brought the combat within sight of those below. Some sprang and endeavored in vain to ascend the slippery cliff. Now was the time for Uncle Hale's coolness in moments of danger to show itself. He brought his rifle to his eye as quick as thought. He waited an instant until the struggle brought the animal's head out of the line of young Hinsdale's body, and then fired. The ball came crashing thro' the back part of the wolf's skull. Hinsdale even felt the air of the bullet as it passed so near him. The grasp of his enemy relaxed; he tore him off from his shoulder and threw the body over the face of the cliff and was in an instant sliding after it into the midst of his companions. The wound was bound up at once and the party returned to the settlement, carrying their foe in triumph.
"Jim Hinsdale," said Uncle Hale, as they passed alone over the Eastbury hill, "you've been a plaguey rash boy today. True grit never runs risks. The den of that varmin wasn't more 'n ten feet higher 'n our heads and we were cutting poles to make a ladder to get up there. What on 'arth led you to fly in the face of your Creator so riskily. You mought as well tried to have crawled down the cla'- boards of Eastbury meetin'-hus. Though I must say, Jim, you wormed your way down them rocks like an old hunter. 'T was pesky risky however. Remember, boy, that God give us life for other uses than to run such chances for a mere wolf. Your keen eyes and strong limbs were given to you to use for the good of the world. You are a brave lad, Jimmy, but an all-fired rash one."
The old man shook his head as he spoke, but there was a gleam of exaltation under his grey eye-brow that belied his words, and in his secret heart he loved Jim Hinsdale the better for his very rashness.
"But Uncle Sim, wasn't you afraid when you shot at the wolf that you would hit me?"
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The old man stopped his long strides in the snow path and brought his rifle down hard on the crust. His eyes flashed and his cheek and brow colored, and his lips closed firmly.
"Jim Hinsdale, I've knowed you from childhood, and I never knowed you say a saucy thing to me afore. When was I ever deceived in my aim? When was I ever scary about hitting anything else but what I shot at? I was as sure of hitting that critter's head, as I should be of hittin' that old chestnut yonder. I am not so old yet that my eye fails as my finger trembles on the trigger, or my hand shakes as I hold the rifle. Ther's enough left of the old man yet to kill a wolf even if he was only two inches from your head."
It was in vain that James protested that he had no intention of offending and was certainly rejoiced at the result, but nothing that he could say could mollify the old hunter, and the rest of the tramp over the Eastbury hills was passed in silence.
The story which Moses and Aaron told when they reached home caused the blanching of Martha's cheek and the tear to start in her eyes, and she slept not until thanksgivings were uttered to God for the safe return of her lover from such danger.
There were no tears however on Grace's pillow, that night. "Grand- mother," said she, starting up with a flushed face and sparkling eye, as her grandmother came in, "may I not be glad because the naughty wolf is dead that ate poor Clover? Is it wicked to say so, grandmother?"
CHAPTER XII
The winter slowly passed away. The snowbanks gradually yielded to the power of the sun and each day found them diminished. The March mornings are delightful after such a winter. The cold of the night has frozen the snow banks, so that children and often even men can pass over them as if they were rocks. The morning sun is bright and scatters legions of diamonds on the hard snow as the child runs over its surface. The rough reign of winter is over and the promise of spring is near. Oh, these mornings, how delightful, how invigorat- ing they are!
Not so the evenings. The snow is then soft, the air chilly from the melting of the day, and the invigoration of the frosty but bright morn- ing has departed.
"Boys," said Thomas Welles, after the recurrence of a few of these beautiful mornings, "it is fine sap-weather now. This freezing nights and thawing in the day time must make the sap run famously. Get out the sap troughs from the shed and load them on the small sled. Martha will wash them out before we start. I'll take the large gimblet in my pocket, and Aaron do you run down to the large bunch of elder
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near the Brook and pick out enough of the straight stocks to make our taps out while Moses is hitching the oxen on to the sled. We'll go over to the South East hill. The maples there are on the southern slope and will be the first to feel the sun. When we get to sugaring off, Grace, Martha may lead you and Jeduthun over. It will not be a long walk."
Modern improvements have, of course, been introduced into sugar- making, by which greater attention is paid to neatness in the collec- tion of the sap, and to expedition in the manufacture of the sugar. But these were primitive times. The wooden trough rinsed in the running brook and the hollow tap of elder were the collectors and recipients of the sap, and a potash kettle answered for the boiling. By these materials sufficient sugar was made to answer the wants of the family.
It was an hilarious time for the young people. The boys worked faithfully, but they had many a frolic with the young girls who in- vaded their premises for a taste of the sap, and they themselves often joined in the walk to the neighboring maple orchards to watch the progress of others.
On the morning of the stated day, Martha sat out after breakfast with her little brother and sister, leaving Prudence at home with the baby. The walk in the bright morning along the hard snowbanks by the side of the fences was exhilarating, and Martha felt the influence of the spring sun and the bracing air, and was more cheerful than she had been for months. The path she had taken was along the edge of a bare hill which gave her an extended prospect over the valley of the Roaring Brook, and she soon perceived a young man hurrying over the fields towards her. Her heart told her who it was, even before it seemed possible that she could have distinguished the figure. There is an instinct about such things where love is genuine that can hardly be accounted for on ordinary principles.
Martha walked slowly with the children until Hinsdale overtook her. He appeared somewhat embarrassed as he joined her, as if he was forcing his mind up to a certain pitch of resolution, and was fear- ing her presence would weaken his determination. He had started to meet her, as he saw her walking toward the sugar-orchard, with considerable elevation of spirit. He had even muttered, as he leaped over the fences above the hard snow banks, in order to reach her soon, that no woman even such as she was, should enthrall him any longer.
"No," said he, snapping his fingers, "her power is over. I have but to tell her so. Henceforward a life of roving adventure or of military exploits for me."
But as he moved on and saw her beyond him, he felt the resolution
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like Bob Acres' courage, oozing out of the ends of his fingers. His indignation melted and his irritation evaporated. When he saw her standing with that patient meekness of aspect and that quiet calmness of look, which the consciousness of duty performed had stamped upon her countenance and her whole demeanor, his love burst forth afresh, and all the planned speeches he had been conning in his mind were put to flight. Hence his uncertainty.
She addressed him first and bade him good morning with one of those lovely smiles that called out all her charms. She was never called beautiful only when she smiled, and then the exceeding loveli- ness of her classical mouth, the bewitching hue of her blue eyes and the fascinating influence of her dimples were all manifested in their power. It was like a gleam of sunlight over a sober landscape of rocks, waters and woods.
We pass over the common remarks by which all such embarrassing conversations are preceded. It was difficult for Hinsdale to find an opportunity to express what was dwelling on his mind, when she observed:
"We have seen little of you lately, James! Why is it so?" and she looked up anxiously into his troubled face.
"It has depended on yourself, dear Martha. It is in your power to enable me to see you all the while, as you well know."
A deeper shade of sadness passed over Martha's face, as she said: "I have told you my reasons already, James. You well know they are those of duty. Why are you not willing to be patient and wait until the ordering of Providence renders what you desire proper. A few years will not be a long time."
She looked down as she spoke and her hand trembled as she held little Jeduthun on the snow.
James appeared irritated: "It is the same old story, Martha - that of duty. If you loved me as you once said you did, the dictates of duty would not interfere with your wish to make me happy. I cannot wait years for that happiness. I want it now."
"I will not reproach you, James, for saying that I do not love you. I have said all that a modest maiden should say on that subject. God knows that I love you only too well," and the tears started to her eyes, "but God would never bless a love that was built on a sacrifice of duty, or bless a union formed on a neglect of what I owe the little ones which Providence has given me to guide. I cannot say this as I want to say it to you, James, for I am an ignorant, country-bred girl, and cannot express what I feel. You have only to wait a little and I promise you I will be yours."
"Wait, I cannot wait. I will not wait. You are only trifling with me. You are a cold hearted, fickle girl. Once for all, Martha Welles,
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will you marry me before April closes? Speak definitely: yes or no. I want no reasons or excuses. Give me a direct answer."
Martha turned as pale as the snow around her. "Do not be rash, dear James, and form such hasty resolutions. Do hear my reasons and look at my real situation. Oh God, help me to convince him of my duty !"
"I have heard reasons about duty long enough and wish only to hear a definite answer to my question, Will you marry me before May comes in?"
Martha was silent. The struggle between love and duty was almost too much for her frame. Her own deep-seated, long-felt love was on his side; her inclinations were treacherous defenders of the citadel of her heart. The contest was terrible and her frame shook under it. She pressed both her hands on her breast to repel the rising faintness that was creep- ing over her, and in so doing took the hand away which Jeduthun held. "Sister Martha," said the child, looking her up in the face, "have I been a naughty boy? Won't you lead me yet over the snow banks? Mayn't I take hold of your frock, if I can't of your hand?" and the little one clung to her skirts.
"No, Jeduthun," she said, turning to the child, "I will not desert you. James Hinsdale, you have your answer. My duty is here."
"Very well," said he, "Martha Welles. We part then here forever. I go to war and adventure, in other lands if necessary, to drive the image of such a fickle girl as you from my heart. An active life and an honorable name must compensate me for your love, or an unknown grave in some distant battlefield be all that is left to me. Farewell." He sprang over the neighboring fence and was soon lost to her sight.
Martha sat down upon a stump that projected above the snow, and covered her face with her hands. Her sight grew dizzy and every- thing seemed turning black around her. "This will not do," she said, "I must not faint. O God, help me!"
The children looked on in astonishment and grief. Little Jeduthun began to whimper, while Grace stepped close to her sister and whisp- ered, "Isn't Jim Hinsdale a naughty boy, sister Martha, to scold you so and make you cry? I mean to hate him, I do."
The voices of the children recalled her to herself, and she smiled upon them with a sickly smile, but rose and went on with them. "Ah," thought she, "little ones, you never will know what you have cost me!"
She checked herself, and would not even express in words, even in her own mind, the wrongful thought. It was turned into a mental prayer for the support of heaven.
The children were gratified by their visit to the sugar orchard and drank the sap, and tasted the hot molasses, and wandered around from one trough to another, under the huge maples, till the sun warned
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them to return, which they did by the snow path the team had made, the banks being now too soft.
Martha said nothing to her friend upon her return, but it would have been impossible for her to have related a single particular respect- ing the maple orchard. Her mind had been elsewhere.
CHAPTER XIII
The principally settled part of Eastbury then lay on the south slope of the mountain that forms the watershed of the Connecticut. Some of the farms were on the west side of the hill where the sandstone forma- tion commences; the others were on the south slope or in the valleys of the brooks that ran from the series of granite hills, that bounded the basin of the Connecticut. To accommodate all, the meeting-house and the school house were placed between the principal settlements on the first bend of the road or rather of the mountains to the East. The school house was over a mile from Roaring Brook and the dwelling of Thomas Welles.
Late in the month of May when the leaves were fluttering their soft, early green in the balmy southern breeze, and the songs of the birds were filling the woods with their choral harmony, little Grace had permission to take Jeduthun to school with strict injunctions to see that he behaved well.
Their mother was sitting at the West door when they went out, nursing her baby, now large enough to be a plaything for Grace. Martha was in the kitchen, busy at her cheese-making, and could hardly find time to bid the little ones good morning and tell them to be good children, as they started in the bright morning for school. Their father, with Moses and Aaron could be seen planting on the South East hill, while the long string of cows were engaged in cropping the dewy grass among the alders near the brook.
"Grandmother, grandmother," said Grace, "Mother says I may take 'Duth to school to-day, and he says he will tell the school-marm that he knows big A and round O and crooked S, and I hope he will learn some more letters to-day; and Prudy is to take the dinner basket, and I am to lead little 'Duth," and she kissed him as she spoke and rearranged his little hat and apron for the twentieth time.
"I do wish Aaron went to school in the summer as he did in the winter, and then he would take care of us."
"Just as if I was n't old enough to take care of you as well as Aaron," said Prudence.
"God bless you," said the grandmother, "and make you good children. We must all help each other in our turns in this world. Aaron led you to school and now you lead Jeduthun."
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" And 'Duth will lead little Sister. How pretty it is to help each other."
"Kiss me, dear Grace," said the mother before you go, "and don't walk too fast for your little brother. Prudence, take good care of them, and see that each has a proper part of the dinner and that they have fresh water at noon. Good bye," and the mother followed them with her eyes, as they passed over the little eminence to the West of the house. She sighed heavily as they left her sight, and then again sighed at her own weakness. A silent prayer ascended for them and then for her own feeble strength which returned so slowly. The grand- mother observed the sigh and the look upward. She understood both.
"Your children and your health, my dear daughter, are in God's hands. He will manage both better than you fear. Do not be dis- couraged at the slowness with which you gain strength. It will come on in its season, by God's blessing, under this delightful weather."
"I am sinful to murmur, I know, dear mother, but, I feel sad as I see this group of immortals around me with so little power on my part to educate them for God and future usefulness. I know that you assist me all you can, and Martha slaves herself for them; but oh that I was as strong as once to work for them, and struggle with them, and pray that they might be a Christian family brought up in the fear of God. But, dear mother, it was not that alone which caused me to sigh. As the children's forms were lost over the brow of the hill, there came a sudden presentiment over me that I had looked the last upon them - that I should never see them again. It is my weak state of nerves I know, and I must strive against it, but it weighs my spirits down most sadly."
"They are in God's hands, my dear. Leave them there submis- sively," said the grandmother, with even more than her usual solem- nity. "But it is strange that the same impression floated over my mind as Grace bade me good bye, that that voice was never more to reach my ear. Such warnings are sent for some useful purpose - at present undoubtedly, to lead us to trust the more implicitly in all God's deal- ings with us."
The forenoon was a solemn one in Thomas Welles's house. Martha was too much engrossed with the memory of James's desertion to sing at her work, as was her wont, and the silent prayer of her mother and grandmother ascended continually to heaven.
We shall not undertake to describe all the actions of the children at school - how very precise and demure Prudence sat up on her bench - or how tired the little ones were in sitting on the rough plank seats with no backs. Prudence was horribly shocked, several times, at Grace's yawning and sitting so crooked on her seat that her knees were
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seen. She would persist too in taking off her shoes, stockings she had none. Prudence was horrified, likewise, at the impropriety of little Jeduthun's falling asleep and rolling off the bench several times, and at his exclaiming aloud, "Grace, see that squirrel!" as one appeared on the chestnut tree opposite the open window. Poor little things! It was hard work to sit hours in such a pleasant day, with the sun just shining through the thick trees in the forest near them, and the birds singing merrily, and the squirrels hopping about from tree to tree in their sight!
But this was one of the foundations of the love of order, of self- denial, of self-sacrifice, and obedience to the constituted forms of law on which our ancestors built up the training of their children.
The school madam was a kind woman and understood children better than Prudence and only smiled at these departures from propriety.
At noon, the children ate their dinners by the side of a spring on the edge of the forest, on some granite boulders with moss. It was a beau- tiful place. The old oaks stretched their limbs and waved their thou- sand leaves between them and the sun, while to the West it was cleared for some miles, and the air came up the mountain to breathe upon their hot brows. The road in front of them was on the side hill, and the opened meadow on the other side enabled Grace to look far over the low-land forests, sleeping lazily in the noon sun, with hardly a breath to ruffle their tops. She took her little sun bonnet off and bathed her hot head in the cooling stream, and then gently washed her little brother, and fixed a pillow for him on a projecting root of the old oak and watched him as he slept, overpowered by the heat and confine- ment of the day.
Prudence had left them, and had gone with Joel Strong in quest of honeysuckle apples in the wood, and Grace felt a motherly responsi- bility in the care of quiet little Jeduthun. She ate her share of the dinner, reserving one large apple, the last of the winter's stock, for her brother's share, when he should awake. As she sat thus, brushing the flies from his face, or gazing down on the bright leaves of the valley forest, wondering whether Eden, of which her grandmother had told her, could have been more beautiful "in the cool of the day," than the bright green forest below rejoicing in its young foliage, David Hubbard, whom she always felt to be the Serpent of her Eden, came by, and rudely demanded the apple which lay on her dinner basket.
Grace firmly refused it - her blue eyes sparkling with spirit as she threw back her golden curls in the contemptuous toss of her little head, and answered no.
"Why, what a selfish critter you are" said David, "to want such a big apple all to yourself."
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"It is n't for myself, I'll let you know Dave Hubbard. It's for little 'Duthe when he wakes up. 'Duthe does n't come to school often and I promised him the apple if he would n't cry, and he didn't, and I'm not a-going to let you have it, Dave Hubbard."
"Oh, selfish! selfish! stingy, and you are hateful for saying so. Go away from us!"
"I'll have the apple at any rate," said Dave, making a dive for it, and kicking Jeduthun, as he sprang, so as to awaken him.
Grace screamed, and at that instant a noble looking boy sprang over the rocks and rescued Grace and her apple from the young filibuster's hands and drove him off.
"I'm not selfish," sobbed Grace, "I prayed this morning that God would give Dave Hubbard a better heart, so as not to torment me."
"Don't cry, Gracy," said Jeduthun, "I shall be a bigger boy soon, and will lick Dave Hubbard, when he plagues you."
"I wish Aaron had come with us to take care of us. He stays with us but Prudy always goes away to walk with Joel Strong. She calls him her lover," and the smile chased away the tears on Grace's cheek, like the sunshine and the clouds on the forest landscape beneath her.
The ordeal of the afternoon in school was safely passed through with by the children. At the close of the labors of the day, the older ones chose sides to spell. Jack Strong was one of the leaders, who as- tonished the whole by the selection of Prudence Welles as his first choice, who was not considered as a good speller. Prudy blushed and simpered as she took her seat on the high side-table next him, but she evidently thought " such medicine was not bad to take."
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