MILL CREEK. 221 



rather than an indifferent timepiece. Without a mo- 

 ment's warning a raw east wind swept across the water 

 and sent a chill to my very bones. The crickets ceased 

 to stridulate, the whippoorwills to sing ; the moping 

 herons rose, with impatient cries, and sought the shelter 

 of the woods. In a minute, at most, there was the 

 fearful, unnerving change from sound to silence. I hur- 

 ried to a safe shelter for my boat. The dipping of my 

 oars was a hollow, mocking sound. I was as one de- 

 serted, absolutely alone, and it was with a sweet sense of 

 relief that I reached the highway and neared the habi- 

 tations of man. 



Quickly following in the track of that chilling wind 

 came up from the east a great bank of leaden clouds, 

 and before I reached the threshold of my home, the 

 steady pattering of rain-drops on the oaks foretold, in no 

 uncertain terms, the coming of a storm. 



