52 LETTERS FKOM THE BACKWOODS. 



the sound to a troop of horse whose steady tramp, at 

 first low and indistinct, soon shook the earth with its 

 tread, then suddenly and fiercely sweeping by, gra- 

 dually lost itself in the distance. The steeds of the 

 air were out, and their successive squadrons, as they 

 went trampling over the bending tree tops, made the 

 forest tremble. God seemed near, there in the soli- 

 tude and night, and his voice seemed speaking to me. 

 How calm the sleepers around me lay in the firelight, 

 reposing as quietly amid this wild uproar as if naught 

 but the dews were gently distilling, and yet how help- 

 less they seemed in their slumbers ! God alone was 

 their keeper, and I never felt more deeply the pro- 

 tection of that parental hand than here at midnight. 



The moon at length arose on the darkness, and the 

 wind lulled gradually into silence. I threw myself 

 on the ground, and watched the bright orb as it slowly 

 mounted the heavens, till finally weariness prevailed, 

 and I slept. The crack of a rifle startled me from 

 my repose before an hour had passed by, and I 

 sprang to my feet. That was a rude waking to one 

 not accustomed to a hunter's life, but nothing but a 

 poor rabbit had suffered. One of the young men 

 had shot him as he was stealiug around the camp fire, 

 attracted by the food we had left scattered about. 



The welcome morning at length came, and a lit- 

 tle after daylight we were afloat, steering for Cold 

 River, in order to take some trout for breakfast. 



