Turning from this scene I found my grief considerably modified in its intensity; and I began now to look on my case only as that of a lost child in society, whom the parents would be certain of finding on diligent search.
"God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," and in a thousand mysterious ways prepares the minds of his creatures to meet the burdens they are called upon to bear. Of this truth I was early convinced. Had the night of my first day's loneliness closed on me in the full consciousness of my desolation and self-dependence for preservation, it is impossible to say what dreadful effects might have been wrought on the mind of one so young, and so tenderly brought up. But it was ordered otherwise. The want of sleep the previous night, together with agonised moments of distress, and fears which returned with redoubled force as the day progressed and no relief came, all contributed so much to the exhaustion of my frame, that long ere the curtains of night were drawn over the forest, I involuntarily fell into a profound sleep, unconscious at what hour, or where I had lain myself. I was thus spared those feelings of dread which, if night had overtaken my waking moments, might have overshadowed my reason while I was watching the final departure of daylight.
When I awoke the next morning, it was broad day; and nothing, while memory retains her seat, can obliterate or weaken the impressions I received on opening my eyes. There was presented to my view the most magnificent scene perhaps ever beheld in this world of nature's productions. For a time I imagined myself dreaming of fairy-land. Before me, as I reclined on a mossy bed of green herbage, as soft as eider-down, there was an opening in the wood, shaped like an amphitheatre, with the sun's rays throwing a flood of light into it. Trees rich with foliage and blossoms waved like a galaxy of parti-coloured flags or banners at a jubilee of nature; brilliant colours, varied in endless hues, all beautifully harmonising, so that each was seen without any being predominant. Here arose upright flowers on stupendous branches, towering aloft as if aspiring to reach the sun; there others hung pendulously, as if seeking to hide themselves amidst the rich foliage that cradled their birth, and were anxious in their modest delicacy, to avoid the god of day. Birds of ever-varied plumage, sizes, and habits, were congregated in immense numbers, forming an orchestra of thousands of vocalists, as if met to celebrate the hour of creation.
A small glassy lake in the centre of the glade, peopled with water-fowl, served the songsters for a grace-cup, each quitting the sprays to dip its beak into it, and again resume its perch to pour forth a torrent of musical notes. I know not how long I might have lain rapt with delight, had not some husks fallen on my face, and roused me. I have reason to think that I was pelted by monkeys, whose jealousy at the appearance of a stranger in their territories had aroused their indignation.
The nut-hatch in the gum tree
Entranced as I had been by the scene, the grosser appetite admonished me that food was necessary for the sustenance of the body; I had not tasted it for upwards of twenty-four hours, and the demands of the stomach now became imperative. Without allowing myself time to reflect, the horror of starvation presented itself to my imagination, and I was again relapsing into despondency, when I saw several small birds running up and down the trunk of a large tree, in a spiral course; their movement was so rapid, that I could not distinguish whether their heads or tails were uppermost. Curious to obtain a nearer view of them, I advanced, and observed that they frequently tapped the bark with their beaks, and then inserted them into the interstices; this led me to examine the tree more closely, when I discovered large masses of gum protruding from the bark. This description of bird is named the nuthatch. They were in search of insects and their eggs, not of the gum. I however filled my pocket with it, and putting piece after piece into my mouth, as it dissolved, it allayed for the present the cravings of hunger.
Frequently when distant dreaded danger is more nearly approached, our fears vanish, and it often happens that a supposed coming evil turns out to be a benefit. At all times, however, the mind is soon familiarised to those dangers that partake of the inevitable. The very worst had now passed away from me—the first night's sleep alone in the forest. I was safe, unhurt, refreshed, and even cheerful: perhaps because I was still full of the hope of being sought for and found by my father and friends.
It was the will of Divine Providence that I should for several weeks cherish this hope; nor did I abandon the flattering solace till I had become fully initiated into the ways of providing for myself. Indeed, I may affirm that hope never left me—hope, if not of meeting directly with my friends, of emancipating myself from the intricacies of the forest. Hope, Memory, and Imagination, three lovely sisters, were my companions, and even in the wilds of a forest,
"Hope enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden hair."
Memory, a visionary slumber, with half-closed eyes, was frequently dispelled by the hard necessity there was to be up and stirring for immediate self-preservation. Imagination came with lamp-like eyes, a bright and bold beauty, seating me at one bound or flight in the midst of my family, enjoying all the comforts of civilized life, throwing me into the arms of my mother, indulging in her warm embrace. Remorse would then supervene—remorse for the pain and anguish I had occasioned my fond and worthy parents, and for the misery my waywardness had brought upon myself.