FLOWERING SHRUBS. 123 



for the night could be entertained. Under so sad a loss, the distress of 

 the bereaved parents may easily be imagined. Their agonizing suspense, 

 their hopes and their fears, found a ready response in every kind and 

 feeling heart. 



No sooner was it known that a young child was lost, than hundreds 

 of persons interested themselves in the discovery and restoration of little 

 Jane Ayre. The people came from their farms ; they poured out from 

 towns and villages, from the borders of the forest ; wherever the tale 

 was told came men in waggons, on horseback, and on foot, to scour the 

 plains in every direction. 



The Indians, under their Chief, Pondash, came under promise of a 

 liberal reward if they found the child. Day after day passed without 

 tidings of the lost one. As night came on each party returned, only to 

 say the child was not found, and hope began to fade away in all hearts. 

 It still lingered however in that of the father. 



It was now Thursday, and it was on the evening of the previous 

 Saturday that the little girl had been lost. The chances were indeed 

 remote that she would he found, or if found, that she would be a living, 

 breathing child. 



However, about noon on the Thursday a horseman was seen 

 riding at full speed towards the farm, followed by a crowd that thronged 

 the road. The lost child was found ! Alive or dead ? There was a 

 stop, a pause, in the pulsation of the woe-worn heart of the mother. 

 Could it be that after five days of famine and wandering, exposed to 

 the rain and dews, and the sun's hot rays, that she should behold her 

 child alive once more ? Yes, it was even so, and He who tempers the 

 rough wind to the shorn lamb and shelters the unfledged nestling of 

 the wild birds, had been her guard by night from the wild beasts and 

 her shield by day from the elements. No harm had befallen the young 

 wanderer, save what naturally arose from exhaustion and fear in her 

 unusual position. 



Each night she had lain down, and, sheltered by a fallen Pine 

 tree, had slept as soundly as if on her own little bed at home. The 

 first night a drenching thunder-shower had wetted her clothes, and she 

 had lost her shoes in the grass and she had not cared to seek for them ; 

 her face was much sunburnt, and she said each day she had heard 

 voices in the distance, but her fear of strangers, and especially of 

 Indians, had made her conceal herself One thing was remarkable — 

 hope and trust in her father had never deserted her young heart. She 

 said, she knew that he would never cease to look for her till she was 

 found. It was with the hope of seeing that dear face that she came 



