The Black Eagle; or, Ticonderoga

by G. P. R. James

He then left her bridle, and walked carefully round several of the trees, examining their trunks and roots with a very critical eye, to ascertain that they were firmly fixed and not decayed; and then, approaching Edith again, he held out his hand, saying,--

"Jump down! Here's one will do. He must ha' stood many a hard storm and bitter blast, and p'r'aps will bear this one too; for he's as sound as when he started up a little twig out of the ground, before the eye of any mortal man now living winked in the sunshine--ay, or his father's either. Here, Chando, take the horses and grip them all tight, for depend upon it they'll caper when the wind and rain come. Now, my dear, put yourself on this side of the tree, keep close to him, and listen well. You may find him shiver and sway a bit, but don't mind that, for he's not so tall as the rest, and twice as stout; and what makes me trust him is, that in some storm his head has been broken off, and yet his feet have stood stout. He won't catch so much wind as the others, and I think he'd stand it if he did. But if you hear him begin to cranch, jump clear out here to the left into the open ground. He'll fall t'other way. If you keep close, the branches won't strike you when they fall, and the rain won't get at you; for it's taking a long sweep."

The next moment, it came. The wind, blowing with the force of a hurricane, rushed over the valley below; the leaves were torn off, the small twigs, with their umbrageous covering, were carried aloft into the air and scattered; a few large drops of rain fell; and then the whole force of the tempest struck the hill-side and the more open forest where Edith stood. In an instant, the scene of confusion and destruction was indescribable. The gusts seemed to hiss as they passed through the boughs of the trees and between the tall stems. Large branches were torn off and scattered far; the young pines and birches bent before the force of the storm. As in the case of war and pestilence, the weak and the sickly and the young and the decayed suffered first and most. Wherever the roots had not got a firm hold of the ground--wherever the thawing of the spring, or the heavy rains, had washed away the earth or loosened it--the trees came thundering and crashing down, and the din was awful; the howling wind, the breaking branches, the falling tree, all joining in the roar; and the pattering rain, rustling and rushing amongst the withered leaves left by the winter, became at length thicker and more dense, till it seemed as if a river was falling down from the sky, hardly separated into drops, rather than a fertilizing shower passing over the landscape.

Edith gazed round her in affright, for she could, as Woodchuck had predicted, feel the enormous but low-stemmed hemlock against which he had placed her tremble and quiver with the blast; and a number of large trees hard by were rooted up, and cast prostrate, bearing the turf and earth in which they had stood, up into the air; while, here and there, some more firmly fixed in the ground, but defective higher up, snapped in the midst, and the whole upper part was carried many yards away. But, though she gazed, little was the distance she could see, so thick and black was the covering of the sky; while all around, what between the close-falling deluge and a sudden mist rising up from the earth, the sort of twilight that the storm-cloud left, was rendered hazy and still more obscure.

The two negroes, as usual with that race, were clamorous and excited, adding the noise of their tongues to the roar of the tempest; but the horses, contrary to the expectation of Woodchuck, seemed cowed and paralyzed by fear. Instead of attempting to break loose and rush away, they merely turned from the wind and rain; and with hoofs set firm, and drooping heads, abode the storm, with now and then a shivering thrill, showing the terror that they felt. Woodchuck himself stood silent close by Edith, leaning his strong shoulder against the tree, and, with his eyes bent down upon the ground, seemed to lose himself in heavy thought. A man who has parted with the world and the world's hopes, is tempest-proof.

After the first rush of the storm, there came a lull: and then another fierce roar, and more falling trees and crashing branches. The whole forest swayed and bent like a feather in a breeze, and down came the torrents from the sky more furiously than ever. But, in the midst of all, Woodchuck started, leaned his head a little on one side, and seemed to listen, with his eyes fixed upon vacancy.

"What is the matter?" asked Edith, alarmed by his look.

"I thought I heard a footfall," he answered.

"In the roar of such a storm!" exclaimed Edith. "It must have been some falling branch."

He only smiled for an answer; but still he listened, and she could see him lift his arm a little from the lock of his rifle on which it had been tightly pressed, and look down upon it to see that it was dry.