CHAPTER XII.ELLA.
The town of P—— is almost exactly east of Glen’s Creek, and by keeping constantly in that direction, Orianna had but little difficulty in finding her way. In twelve days’ time she accomplished her journey, stopping for food and lodging at the numerous wigwams which lay on her road.
It was near the middle of the afternoon when, at last, she entered the woods on the borders of which lay the settlement of P——. Wearied with her day’s toil, she sought a resting-place beneath the same old oak where, seventeen years before, Mr. Gorton had laid his little Madeline; and the same large, rough stone which he had placed there to mark the spot, and which had since fallen down, now served her for a seat. But Orianna knew it not, nor ever dreamed that often had Robert and Marian stood there, the one listening tearfully, while the other told her all he could remember of the sister who, in childish playfulness, he had often called his little wife.
It was now near the 1st of April, and already had the forest trees put forth many a dark green leaflet, while the song birds gaily carolled of the coming summer; but Orianna did not hear them. Sadly her heart went back to her home, and what there awaited her. Weary and worn, is it not strange that for a time she yielded to the despair which had gathered about her heart? Covering her face with her hands, she wept bitterly, nor until twice repeated did she hear the words, “What makes you cry so?” uttered in the soft tones of childhood.
Looking up, she saw before her a little girl, her deep blue eyes filled with wonder and her tiny hands filled with the wild flowers of spring.
Something whispered to Orianna that it was Ella, and brushing away her tears, she answered, “Orianna is tired, for she has come a long way.”
“What have you come for?” asked the child.
“Charlie sent me. Do you know Charlie?” and Orianna looked earnestly at the little girl, whose blue eyes opened wider, and whose tiny hands dropped the flowers, as she answered, “Charlie, my cousin Charlie? Have you come from him? What word did he send me?”
“Walk with me and I will tell you,” said Orianna, rising and taking by the hand the unresisting child, who with the ready instinct of childhood, could discriminate between a friend and foe.
For more than an hour, they walked rapidly on, Ella, in her eagerness to hear from Charlie, never once thinking how fast the distance between herself and her home was increasing; nor had she a thought of her companion’s intention, until Orianna, suddenly lifting her in her arms, said, “I promised Charlie I would bring you, and for that have I come.”
Then a cry of fear burst from Ella, who struggled vainly to escape from the arms which gently, but tightly, held her. “Let me go, oh, please let me go,” she cried, us Orianna’s walk quickened into a run; but Orianna only replied, “I told Charlie I would bring you, and I promise you shall not be hurt.”
“Mother, oh, mother, who will tell my mother?” asked Ella.
“I will send some one to her in the morning,” answered Orianna; and then in order to soothe the excited child, she commenced narrating anecdotes of Charlie and the place to which they were going.
Finding it impossible to escape, Ella by degrees grew calm, and as the night closed in, she fell asleep in the arms of Orianna, who with almost superhuman efforts, sped on until a wigwam was reached. There for a short time she rested, and won from a young Indian a promise that he would next morning acquaint Capt. Wilder of the whereabouts of his child. Fearing pursuit, she could not be prevailed upon to stay all night, but started forward, still keeping in her arms the little Ella, who at last slept as soundly as ever she had done in her soft bed at home.
The night was far spent when Orianna finally stopped beneath the shelter of a large, overhanging rock. The movement aroused Ella, who, instantly comprehending where she was, again pleaded earnestly that she might go home. Orianna soon convinced her that to return alone was impossible, and then painted the meeting between herselfand Charlie so glowingly that though her eyes were full of tears, her voice was more cheerful as she asked, “And will you surely bring me back?”
“As yonder stars fade in the rising sun, so surely shall you go home,” said Orianna. Then spreading in her lap the blanket which, with ready forethought, she had brought from home, she bade Ella lie down and sleep.
“And will you keep the bad Indians off?” asked Ella, looking shudderingly around at the dark woods.
“No one will harm you while I am here,” was Orianna’s reply, and with the trusting faith of childhood Ella, was soon fast asleep, while Orianna carefully watched her slumbers.
Once during her night vigils she was startled by the distant cry of some wild beast, but it came not near, and the morning found them both unharmed. Dividing with her little charge the corn bread and cold venison which had been procured at the wigwam, Orianna again set forward, leading Ella by the hand, and beguiling the hours in every possible way. The next night they passed in a wigwam, where dusky faces bent curiously above the “pale flower” as she slept, and where, next morning, in addition to the bountiful supply of corn cake and venison, a bunch of spring violets was presented to Ella by an Indian boy, who had gathered them expressly for the “white pappoose,” as he called her.
Blest season of childhood, which gathers around it so many who are ready to smooth the rough places and pluck the sharp thorns which he so thickly scattered on life’s pathway! It was Ella’s talisman; for more than one tall Indian, on learning her history from Orianna, cheerfully lent a hand, and on his brawny shoulders carried her from the sun’s rising to its going down.
With Ella for a companion, Orianna proceeded but slowly, and nearly three weeks were spent ere familiar way-marks told her that they were nearing Lexington. “In less than two days we shall be there,” she said to Ella, as at the close of one day they drew near that town.
Lighter grew Ella’s footsteps, and brighter was her eye, while darker and deeper grew the shadows around poor Orianna. She was right in her calculations, for on the afternoon of the second day they struck into the narrow footpath which led to Deacon Wilder’s house, and which she and Charlie oft had trodden.
Here for a time we will leave them, while in another chapter we will read what has taken place since we in the wilderness have been roaming.