We took leave of our young friends at the close of the previous volume as they separated, John to return to the blacksmith’s shop at Portland, Charlie to the ship-yard at Stroudwater, while Fred Williams remained in his store, which was in one part of his father’s mill.
On Elm Island, Lion Ben was recovering from a severe sickness, through which he had passed without any other attendance than that of his wife, or medicine save those simple remedies which nature and experience had taught our mothers, or had been learned from the red man.
As Ben was not reduced by bleeding or purgatives,—the mode of medical practice prevalent in those days,—he gained strength rapidly after the first few weeks, soon being able to go about the house, and at length to extend his excursions to the workshop and barn.
He soon discovered that the partridges were missing; and upon asking Sally, she told him she remembered having seen them a week before, but had been so much occupied since that she had not given any attention to them.
“Then they are gone,” replied Ben; “some owl or hawk has carried them off.”
“I don’t believe they would go of their own accord,” said Sally; “they seemed just as tame and contented as the rest. Perhaps the coons have got them. There are no skunks or foxes on the island.”
“That’s it. I’m sorry, because Charlie will feel bad about it.”
A few days after, Ben went out quite early in the morning to the barn, and instantly returning, called Sally to the door, and told her to stand still and listen.
Soon a sound was heard in the woods, like that of distant thunder.
“Do you hear that noise, Sally?”