“She was a good old soul,” said Ben; “she didn’t forget old Luce.”
“Not she; but, as I was saying, she got her table out, and irons hot; but just as she opened the door to bring in the shawl, she saw a fish-hawk rising from the ground with it in his claws. Almost beside herself, she screamed for Richard, who came running from the field; but long enough before he could load the gun, the hawk was out of sight behind a high hill back of the house; and when I heard Sally screaming for Ben, it brought it right up.”
“Why couldn’t they have followed, seen where he went to, and cut the tree down?” asked Charlie.
“Because, child, it was all thick woods. You couldn’t see, only right up in the air, without climbing a tall tree, and before they could do that he was out of sight.”
“Did the women come?”
“Yes; but instead of rejoicing with the poor old lady, they did their best to console her. She didn’t live but a week after that. Some thought the loss of the shawl, and thinking what Patience would say when she came, shortened her days; but I don’t. She was very old, and had been very feeble all the winter before.”
“Did they ever find it?”
“Yes; some men, who were clearing land two miles off, cut down a tree, the next summer, that had a fish-hawk’s nest on it; and there was the shawl, all rotten and covered with the lice that are always on young fish-hawks.”
“The hawk is welcome to the yarn, mother.”
“That’s right, Sally; that is spoken like a child of mine, and a good, thoughtful girl. If the Lord had told you, two years ago, that he would give you all he has sent you in that time, by the way of the Ark, if you would give a couple of skeins of yarn to a fish-hawk, you would have been very glad to have done it. These are all his creatures, and he careth for them, and feeds them all. The robins, in their nests, open their little mouths for God to feed them. The Scripture says, ‘He feedeth the ravens, and not even a sparrow is forgotten before God.’”