Where now the solemn shade,
Verdure and gloom, where many branches meet;
So grateful, when the noon of summer made
The valleys sick with heat?
Let in through all the trees,
Come the strange rays; the forest depths are bright:
Their sunny-colored foliage, in the breeze,
Twinkles like beams of light.
Bryant.
A few days after the evening before mentioned, Edith and her father prepared for their little journey, to visit the young student.
It was a brilliant morning in the very last of October. All journeys, at this time, were made on horseback: they were mounted, therefore, Mr. Grafton on a sedate old beast, that had served him many years, and Edith on the petite fille of this venerable "ancestress,"—gentle, but scarcely out of its state of coltship.
The Indians, at this time, were much feared, and the shortest excursions were never undertaken without fire-arms. Paul, as well as Mr. Grafton, was well armed, and served them as a guard.
As soon as they had left their own village, their course was only a bridle-path through the forest; and the path was now so hidden with the fallen leaves, that it was sometimes indicated only by marks on the trees. The trees were almost stripped of their foliage, and the bright autumn sun, shining through the bare trunks, sparkled on the dew of the fallen leaves. It was the last smile of autumn. The cold had already commenced. No sound broke the intense stillness of the forest but the trampling of their horses' feet as they crushed the dry, withered foliage.
The sky was intensely blue, and without a cloud. The elasticity of the air excited the young spirits of Edith. She was gay, and, like a young fawn, she fluttered around her father, sometimes galloping her rough little pony in front, and then returning, she would give a gentle cut with her whip to her father's horse, who, with head down, and plodding indifference, regarded it no more than he did a fly.
Mr. Grafton, delighted with his daughter's playfulness, looked at her with a quiet, tender smile: her gayety, to him, was like the play of her infancy, and he delighted to think that she was yet young and happy.