of the gun, Father?" asked Daniel. "Didst thou find it?"
"Nay," answered his father. "They had it not, and that causes me to
think they have passed it as well as the boy on to others of
their tribe. There is naught to be done now but wait until after
Thanksgiving Day."
"'T will be but a sad holiday," said the Goodwife. "Though he is but a
blackamoor, the lad hath found a place in my heart, and I grieve that
evil hath befallen him."
"When I saw thee come out from behind the cow-shed I thought thou
hadst a burden," said Daniel. "I thought it was Zeb--wounded, or
mayhap dead."
"Aye," answered the Goodman. "I did carry a burden and had like to
forgot it. I dropped it by the door of the cow-shed. Go thou and bring
it in."
Dan ran out at once and returned a moment later carrying a huge wild
turkey by the legs. His mother rose and felt its breastbone with her
fingers.
"'T is fine and fat, and young withal," she answered. "'T will make
a brave addition to our feast on the morrow, for, truth to tell, our
preparations have been but half-hearted thus far. Our minds were taken
up with thy danger and fear for the lad."
"Dwell rather on our deliverance," said her husband. "The Lord hath
not brought us into this wilderness to perish. Let us not murmur, as
did the Children of Israel. The Lord still guides us."
"Aye, and by a pillar of fire, too," said Nancy, remembering the
straw-stack.
"And instead of manna he hath sent this turkey," added Dan.
Supper was now over, and after it was cleared away, and they had had
prayers, the mother sent the rest of the family to bed, while she
busied herself with final preparations for the next day. She plucked
and stuffed the great turkey, first cutting off the long wing-feathers
for hearth-brooms, and set it away on the shelf in the secret closet
along with Nancy's array of pies. It was late when at last she lit her
candle, covered the ashes, and climbed wearily to bed.
The wind changed in the night and when they looked out next morning
the air was full of great white snow-flakes, and the blackened ruins
of the straw-stack were neatly covered with a mantle of white.
The family was up betimes, and as they ate their good breakfast of
sausages, johnny-cake, and maple syrup, they sent many a thought
toward poor Zeb, wandering in the forest or perhaps lying dead in its
depths.
It was a solemn little party that later left the cabin in the care
of Nimrod and started across t
|