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A
low
moan
,
which
told
his
success
,
and
by
which
even
animals
cars
express
their
dying
agony
,
was
unheeded
by
Reuben
Bourne
.
What
were
the
recollections
now
breaking
upon
him
?
The
thicket
into
which
Reuben
had
fired
was
near
the
summit
of
a
swell
of
land
,
and
was
clustered
around
the
base
of
a
rock
,
which
,
in
the
shape
and
smoothness
of
one
of
its
surfaces
,
was
not
unlike
a
gigantic
gravestone
.
As
if
reflected
in
a
mirror
,
its
likeness
was
in
Reuben
’
s
memory
.
He
even
recognized
the
veins
which
seemed
to
form
an
inscription
in
forgotten
characters
:
everything
remained
the
same
,
except
that
a
thick
covert
of
bushes
shrouded
the
lowerpart
of
the
rock
,
and
would
have
hidden
Roger
Malvin
had
he
still
been
sitting
there
.
Yet
in
the
next
moment
Reuben
’
s
eye
was
caught
by
another
change
that
time
had
effected
since
he
last
stood
where
he
was
now
standing
again
behind
the
earthy
roots
of
the
uptorn
tree
.
The
sapling
to
which
he
had
bound
the
bloodstained
symbol
of
his
vow
had
increased
and
strengthened
into
an
oak
,
far
indeed
from
its
maturity
,
but
with
no
mean
spread
of
shadowy
branches
.
There
was
one
singularity
observable
in
this
tree
which
made
Reuben
tremble
.
The
middle
and
lower
branches
were
in
luxuriant
life
,
and
an
excess
of
vegetation
had
fringed
the
trunk
almost
to
the
ground
;
but
a
blight
had
apparently
stricken
the
upper
part
of
the
oak
,
and
the
very
topmost
bough
was
withered
,
sapless
,
and
utterly
dead
.
Reuben
remembered
how
the
little
banner
had
fluttered
on
that
topmost
bough
,
when
it
was
green
and
lovely
,
eighteen
years
before
.
Whose
guilt
had
blasted
it
?
Dorcas
,
after
the
departure
of
the
two
hunters
,
continued
her
preparations
for
their
evening
repast
.
Her
sylvan
table
was
the
moss
-
covered
trunk
of
a
large
fallen
tree
,
on
the
broadest
part
of
which
she
had
spread
a
snow
-
white
cloth
and
arranged
what
were
left
of
the
bright
pewter
vessels
that
had
been
her
pride
in
the
settlements
.
It
had
a
strange
aspect
that
one
little
spot
of
homely
comfort
in
the
desolate
heart
of
Nature
.
The
sunshine
yet
lingered
upon
the
higher
branches
of
the
trees
that
grew
on
rising
ground
;
but
the
shadows
of
evening
had
deepened
into
the
hollow
where
the
encampment
was
made
,
and
the
firelight
began
to
redden
as
it
gleamed
up
the
tall
trunks
of
the
pines
or
hovered
on
the
dense
and
obscure
mass
of
foliage
that
circled
round
the
spot
.
The
heart
of
Dorcas
was
not
sad
;
for
she
felt
that
it
was
better
to
journey
in
the
wilderness
with
two
whom
she
loved
than
to
be
a
lonely
woman
in
a
crowd
that
cared
not
for
her
.
As
she
busied
herself
in
arranging
seats
of
mouldering
wood
,
covered
with
leaves
,
for
Reuben
and
her
son
,
her
voice
danced
through
the
gloomy
forest
in
the
measure
of
a
song
that
she
had
learned
in
youth
.
The
rude
melody
,
the
production
of
a
bard
who
won
no
name
,
was
descriptive
of
a
winter
evening
in
a
frontier
cottage
,
when
,
secured
from
savage
inroad
by
the
high
-
piled
snow
-
drifts
,
the
family
rejoiced
by
their
own
fireside
.
The
whole
song
possessed
the
nameless
charm
peculiar
to
unborrowed
thought
,
but
four
continually
-
recurring
lines
shone
out
from
the
rest
like
the
blaze
of
the
hearth
whose
joys
they
celebrated
.
Into
them
,
working
magic
with
a
few
simple
words
,
the
poet
had
instilled
the
very
essence
of
domestic
love
and
household
happiness
,
and
they
were
poetry
and
picture
joined
in
one
.
As
Dorcas
sang
,
the
walls
of
her
forsaken
home
seemed
to
encircle
her
;
she
no
longer
saw
the
gloomy
pines
,
nor
heard
the
wind
which
still
,
as
she
began
each
verse
,
sent
a
heavy
breath
through
the
branches
,
and
died
away
in
a
hollow
moan
from
the
burden
of
the
song
.
She
was
aroused
by
the
report
of
a
gun
in
the
vicinity
of
the
encampment
;
and
either
the
sudden
sound
,
or
her
loneliness
by
the
glowing
fire
,
caused
her
to
tremble
violently
.
The
next
moment
she
laughed
in
the
pride
of
a
mother
’
s
heart
.
"
My
beautiful
young
hunter
!
My
boy
has
slain
a
deer
!
"
she
exclaimed
,
recollecting
that
in
the
direction
whence
the
shot
proceeded
Cyrus
had
gone
to
the
chase
.
She
waited
a
reasonable
time
to
hear
her
son
’
s
light
step
bounding
over
the
rustling
leaves
to
tell
of
his
success
.
But
he
did
not
immediately
appear
;
and
she
sent
her
cheerful
voice
among
the
trees
in
search
of
him
.
"
Cyrus
!
Cyrus
!
"
His
coming
was
still
delayed
;
and
she
determined
,
as
the
report
had
apparently
been
very
near
,
to
seek
for
him
in
person
.
Her
assistance
,
also
,
might
be
necessary
in
bringing
home
the
venison
which
she
flattered
herself
he
had
obtained
.
She
therefore
set
forward
,
directing
her
steps
by
the
long
-
past
sound
,
and
singing
as
she
went
,
in
order
that
the
boy
might
be
aware
of
her
approach
and
run
to
meet
her
.
From
behind
the
trunk
of
every
tree
,
and
from
every
hiding
-
place
in
the
thick
foliage
of
the
undergrowth
,
she
hoped
to
discover
the
countenance
of
her
son
,
laughing
with
the
sportive
mischief
that
is
born
of
affection
.
The
sun
was
now
beneath
the
horizon
,
and
the
light
that
came
down
among
the
leaves
was
sufficiently
dim
to
create
many
illusions
in
her
expecting
fancy
.
Several
times
she
seemed
indistinctly
to
see
his
face
gazing
out
from
among
the
leaves
;
and
once
she
imagined
that
he
stood
beckoning
to
her
at
the
base
of
a
craggy
rock
.
Keeping
her
eyes
on
this
object
,
however
,
it
proved
to
be
no
more
than
the
trunk
of
an
oak
fringed
to
the
very
ground
with
little
branches
,
one
of
which
,
thrust
out
farther
than
the
rest
,
was
shaken
by
the
breeze
.
Making
her
way
round
the
foot
of
the
rock
,
she
suddenly
found
herself
close
to
her
husband
,
who
had
approached
in
another
direction
.
Leaning
upon
the
butt
of
his
gun
,
the
muzzle
of
which
rested
upon
the
withered
leaves
,
he
was
apparently
absorbed
in
the
contemplation
of
some
object
at
his
feet
.
