every hand;
and for one long night, sleep sought no pillow in the settlement. And
to thrill all hearts with keener agony, and strain each nerve and cord
to its utmost tension, a little before daybreak, not a mile from the
desolate home, the fierce, wild scream of a panther was heard,
startling the very air to a violent shudder, and receiving angry
answers from the low lakeshore.

IX.

SEEKING THE LOST LAMB IN VAIN.

Darkness retired. The twilight glimmered on the tallest trees.
Morning, so wearily watched-for, came. The clouds broke in masses, and
rolled tardily down the sky. Day gilded the heavens, and the tranquil
bosom of the low Cayuga mantled in his beams, and reflected the glory
of his face. But to the Waldron Settlement that smiling day brought
little hope, and no enjoyment. A favorite child was lost from a goodly
family, and ill feelings were agitated, and all hearts ran after him
through thicket and field, over hill and valley, like shepherds after a
lost lamb. Comfortless and faint, the family assembled at the morning
altar, and one general sob of grief, and one leaping pulse of anxiety
went round. They kneeled for prayer; and the venerable father bore
their petitions before the Lord. He prayed for grace to sustain them
in the trial. He acknowledged their errors; but bending at the feet of
Infinite Kindness, he was encouraged to ask for a Father's blessing.
He prayed for more faith in Providence. He prayed that they might have
resignation, and that comfort might come to their hearts in the
recovery of their little boy.

Grief brooded not over that altar alone. It sat upon every face; it
occupied every home; it assailed every heart in the settlement. Tilly
Troffater even seemed to share somewhat of the general sorrow, though
seldom shedding a sympathetic tear.

"I never tuck a great likin' to childern," said he; "but I kindy liked
little Clint; his cheeks was so soft, and smooth, and his eyes snapped
sich funny fire; and he was olers so full o' his cunnin' jabber. I
hope the painters haint ketched him. They yelled despotly last night;
but I hope they haint ketched him yit. I'd like to see him agin, and
baird his dimple face for him; the pretty mischief."

"He's worth a long hunt," said Colwell, "and my farm won't suffer if I
search a month."

"I did not see how I could leave my work," said Wilson; "but I must
give one hunt for Clinton; I must."

"We mustn't give him up yet. O,