ELLA.
The town of P—— is almost exactly east of Glen’s Creek, and by keeping
constantly in that direction, Orianna had but little difficulty in
finding her way. In twelve days’ time she accomplished her journey,
stopping for food and lodging at the numerous wigwams which lay on her
road.
It was near the middle of the afternoon when, at last, she entered the
woods on the borders of which lay the settlement of P——. Wearied with
her day’s toil, she sought a resting-place beneath the same old oak
where, seventeen years before, Mr. Gorton had laid his little Madeline;
and the same large, rough stone which he had placed there to mark the
spot, and which had since fallen down, now served her for a seat. But
Orianna knew it not, nor ever dreamed that often had Robert and Marian
stood there, the one listening tearfully, while the other told her all
he could remember of the sister who, in childish playfulness, he had
often called his little wife.
It was now near the 1st of April, and already had the forest trees put
forth many a dark green leaflet, while the song birds gaily carolled of
the coming summer; but Orianna did not hear them. Sadly her heart went
back to her home, and what there awaited her. Weary and worn, is it not
strange that for a time she yielded to the despair which had gathered
about her heart? Covering her face with her hands, she wept bitterly,
nor until twice repeated did she hear the words, “What makes you cry
so?” uttered in the soft tones of childhood.
Looking up, she saw before her a little girl, her deep blue eyes filled
with wonder and her tiny hands filled with the wild flowers of spring.
Something whispered to Orianna that it was Ella, and brushing away her
tears, she answered, “Orianna is tired, for she has come a long way.”
“What have you come for?” asked the child.
“Charlie sent me. Do you know Charlie?” and Orianna looked earnestly at
the little girl, whose blue eyes opened wider, and whose tiny hands
dropped the flowers, as she answered, “Charlie, my cousin Charlie? Have
you come from him? What word did he send me?”
“Walk with me and I will tell you,” said Orianna, rising and taking by
the hand the unresisting child, who with the ready instinct of
childhood, could discriminate between a friend and foe.
For more than an hour, they walked rapidly on, Ella, in her eagerness to
hear from Charlie, never once thinking how fast the distance between
herself and her home was increasing; nor had she a thought of her
companion’s intention, until Orianna, suddenly lifting her in her arms,
said, “I promised Charlie I would bring you, and for that have I come.”
Then a cry of fear burst from Ella, who struggled vainly to escape from
the arms which gently, but tightly, held her. “Let me go, oh, please let
me go,” she cried, us Orianna’s walk quickened into a run; but Orianna
only replied, “I told Charlie I would bring you, and I promise you shall
not be hurt.”
“Mother, oh, mother, who will tell my mother?” asked Ella.
“I will send some one to her in the morning,” answered Orianna; and then
in order to soothe the excited child, she commenced narrating anecdotes
of Charlie and the place to which they were going.
Finding it impossible to escape, Ella by degrees grew calm, and as the
night closed in, she fell asleep in the arms of Orianna, who with almost
superhuman efforts, sped on until a wigwam was reached. There for a
short time she rested, and won from a young Indian a promise that he
would next morning acquaint Capt. Wilder of the whereabouts of his
child. Fearing pursuit, she could not be prevailed upon to stay all
night, but started forward, still keeping in her arms the little Ella,
who at last slept as soundly as ever she had done in her soft bed at
home.
The night was far spent when Orianna finally stopped beneath the shelter
of a large, overhanging rock. The movement aroused Ella, who, instantly
comprehending where she was, again pleaded earnestly that she might go
home. Orianna soon convinced her that to return alone was impossible,
and then painted the meeting between herself and Charlie so glowingly
that though her eyes were full of tears, her voice was more cheerful as
she asked, “And will you surely bring me back?”
“As yonder stars fade in the rising sun, so surely shall you go home,”
said Orianna. Then spreading in her lap the blanket which, with ready
forethought, she had brought from home, she bade Ella lie down and
sleep.
“And will you keep the bad Indians off?” asked Ella, looking
shudderingly around at the dark woods.
“No one will harm you while I am here,” was Orianna’s reply, and with
the trusting faith of childhood Ella, was soon fast asleep, while
Orianna carefully watched her slumbers.
Once during her night vigils she was startled by the distant cry of some
wild beast, but it came not near, and the morning found them both
unharmed. Dividing with her little charge the corn bread and cold
venison which had been procured at the wigwam, Orianna again set
forward, leading Ella by the hand, and beguiling the hours in every
possible way. The next night they passed in a wigwam, where dusky faces
bent curiously above the “pale flower” as she slept, and where, next
morning, in addition to the bountiful supply of corn cake and venison, a
bunch of spring violets was presented to Ella by an Indian boy, who had
gathered them expressly for the “white pappoose,” as he called her.
Blest season of childhood, which gathers around it so many who are ready
to smooth the rough places and pluck the sharp thorns which he so
thickly scattered on life’s pathway! It was Ella’s talisman; for more
than one tall Indian, on learning her history from Orianna, cheerfully
lent a hand, and on his brawny shoulders carried her from the sun’s
rising to its going down.
With Ella for a companion, Orianna proceeded but slowly, and nearly
three weeks were spent ere familiar way-marks told her that they were
nearing Lexington. “In less than two days we shall be there,” she said
to Ella, as at the close of one day they drew near that town.
Lighter grew Ella’s footsteps, and brighter was her eye, while darker
and deeper grew the shadows around poor Orianna. She was right in her
calculations, for on the afternoon of the second day they struck into
the narrow footpath which led to Deacon Wilder’s house, and which she
and Charlie oft had trodden.
Here for a time we will leave them, while in another chapter we will
read what has taken place since we in the wilderness have been roaming.