ther search that night, and he had lighted the
fire, in order if possible, to attract the attention of the child, and
also to bring together all the inhabitants around, to institute a more
thorough search in the morning.

Afterwards others came in; and when they heard the story, one of them
proposed to give a shoe or an apron of Lucy's to one of the dogs and let
him follow the scent. But Mr. Littlejohn said this would not do, for the
dogs were fierce and used to hunting for prey only. They would tear the
little girl in pieces if they were to find her. And Mrs. Keyes would not
consent to have the dogs set on the track. Another proposed to hunt with
torches. With this plan all fell in; and the party, now swelled to ten
or fifteen, were divided into squads and sent to hunt, each in a
different direction. All night they kept up the search. They called
aloud for Lucy again and again, and in all directions; they scoured the
woods for miles around; they hunted on the shore of the lake for the
tracks of little feet. Behind rocks and trees, under logs and clumps of
bushes, they peered; but no trace was to be seen--nothing but darkness
and gloomy night. Now and then the hoot of an owl would be mistaken for
a child's cry, and hope would momentarily rise in the breast of a hunter
only to fall as the sound became more distinct. And thus the night
dragged on. When morning came, the various squads of hunters came back
to the houses all with the same story of failure. They were weary with
wakefulness and the heavy tramp. After a hasty meal they carefully
searched the ground within two or three miles of the house. The whole
day was spent in this; and at nightfall the party came back to the
desolate house without hope. The mother, almost frantic, called for
Lucy, and nothing but the echoes gave answer. One by one the neighbors
went to their own homes and cares. The conviction forced itself upon the
minds of all, that Lucy had been captured by the Indians. Mr. Keyes and
his boys hunted in the woods for days afterwards, till the only hope
that Lucy was alive lay in her being captured. Otherwise she must have
died from exposure or starvation.

Sorrow and desolation now surrounded the cabin of Mr. Keyes. The sanded
floor remained unswept; the trellis was broken by the wind; the vines
hung straggling; the smooth, spacious front of the door was cluttered;
the mewing cat gave voice to the general gloom. Mrs. Keyes could not
forget her grief. A