The dog seemed to understand the man, for his fierceness abated, and he stepped from the portal.
“There! I knew it was Johnny Appleseed,” the trapper said triumphantly, as he opened the cabin door, and let a flood of moonlight into the dingy room. “Here he comes, down the river. What’s that he’s saying, Dick?”
The speaker leaned forward and caught these words uttered in a melodious voice:
“The spirit of the Lord is upon me, and he hath anointed me to blow the trumpet in the wilderness and sound the alarm in the forest: for behold the tribes of the heathen are round about your door, and a devouring flame followeth after them.”
The herald of danger stood near the edge of the water, and looked like some wild being from spirit-land.
“Old Johnny means somethin’; somethin’s gone wrong somewhar,” cried the trapper, becoming excited, and then in a louder tone he spoke the singular cognomen of the man of the wilderness—“Johnny Appleseed!”
The latter turned and after some hesitation came forward.
“Do not detain the Lord’s anointed long,” said the little wiry man, exhibiting his old restless activity, “for the Philistines are this night sweeping down upon the scattered tents of Israel, who will be found without the cities of refuge.”
“But, Johnny, what has happened?” queried the settler, who could not repress a smile at the herald’s quaint phraseology.
“The Philistines hold revel in the great walled city on the northern water.”