Rensselaer Republican, Volume 13, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 August 1881 — A STRANGE STORY. [ARTICLE]

A STRANGE STORY.

. I have a atrangay almost incredible story to tell of an experience of my own one fearful night In tbe woods. Imagination bad dhtfatog-to do with, it. limabackwoodsman's daughter,, accustomed to the wild sounds of tbe! forest, the loneltneee, and- all that is terrifying to a novice. M * My father waa a good man, serving God after his own simple fashion, see- 1 log him awd loving him after hfs dwn works. I have heard him hold forth on the provident ways- of the beaver: ‘Why! thefiftle critter’d starve lb the oold season If it hadn't used its little flat tail for bulletin* Us house, and then fined it with food in time!’! I have heard him tell of the caribou: ‘took at that, too’he Would say,‘and at the moose. Now, the ' caribou has to travel dfteh a matter ortwenty miles for his dinner, for he’s a dainty ’un, and only eats the long gray moss,that hangs from the trees —so God gave him snow-shoes good as an Injun could make 'em to Rkim over the Ice the big, ‘ heavy 'flioose thete sinks right • in. Hi* dinner is close kt hand. He could?live a month on an acre lot!' He woujd apeak of the loon, and its adaptation, in evory way to its watery home —always ending such talk With; ’All God’s works are ’pop honor; there’s, no half way with him!’ j> : I was pie only one, left of twelve children. My father, when mourning Over and missing the others, would never complain but only, say: ‘They’re better off! Why! if we can’t trdlt the little children, that don’t wrong doing is, and don’t- know the meaning of sin, tbeu there ain’t any chance for us men!’ And so he lived his quiet life —his heart being doea to nature’s heart, and his soul unconsciously seeking and finding nature's f3od. * My mother must have been befiki-s ful in her youth. -Bhdwa*-& I/oWt(f Canadienne, and her bright Freneh spirits oarried ber gaily over many a hard trial in her life of frequent deprivations. One great, ovrt shadowing sorrow of her lire was tlie unaccouhta-' ble disappearance of her, liuteyear old daughter, her cnly beautiful child—the one in her own image, whom, from the first she loved with a peculiar teuderness.. ~ The child had been left alone in her little birch byrk crib for ashort-haU hour, while mother Was busy at the spring, a mile from home, in'ihe midst of the woods. I, a little six-year old, wks off In the ‘eauoe with my father, as a treat for baviDg been especially good the day Ijefore, Father and I bad had a splendid time—we always dhl When we went together—and, our canoe foil of trout, We were earning gayly home, toward evening, when a cold chill ft 11 <in our happiness, and my child's heart felt a strange thrill jl* I Wad a shde >u anxiety; U, my father’s face, whojr«» every cringe T kffeW: His quick ear had entnvit' fl-.e sound of v.-ree, mtul, after a while, I, .too, could hear a - hoptlces moanini'. a dreadful heart-broken sound We found mother kneeling on tbe floor, her head leaning on the emptyxrib', and mourning as one that coiffariQt. lie comforted. The baby was gone. How, or where, we coifld uot tell—we never knew. Weeks were spent in searching for her, and, at length, to save mothef'arreason, father fdffced ber to leave the pretty log hut in the by thp lake, where this last seiy row had come upon her, and we .went to Montreal. . J » Then we lived quietly for rear-dur-ing.the winter tijpe. The- nuns of the great con vent of tbe Grav listers tooß charge of my education. Mother and* I had neat little rooms In the French quarter, while father went ufi moosehunting for weary: months; but.the summer-times are always spent- with him* He would choose lovefv soots for oitr does momenta, hut never on the site of the log"cnbui deserted after the habyfe loss, until trie summer, of my nineteenth year. 'Then a grand desire took possession of my mother to go once more to ther old home. She bad been very* delicate that winter,’and my' great,rbugb father denied her nothing, I shudder when I think of that beoutiful direful place now- it seems fas though our evil fate hovered about it. All the anguish I ever knew centers there! 7 We passed one peaceful mouth together, disturbed only by distant rumors of the dyptheria-a yq.-n'irg* u,Ki..h weemed to Be striding along from village to village, first ou the river, then nearer us.on the great, lake; ihut we never thought of its touch!mr us, until one miserable night when fathtr came home, languid and feverish, from one of his numerous expeditions, ami we read in that the ghastiv finger of the scourge bad set its mark, upon him. After the second day of anxiety about my father, all strength seemed to desert my delicate little mothei. From the first she had despaired about bim and now I saw that, if father died, I ahiuld have to part with them both. ' Her Iftowoukl die with hu, for sorrow forges Htronger bonds even than* joy, ana tty?y bad suffered so much tugetherjmis'iove always supporting her, that be had beqome the life of her life, • She could not exiat.alone.

«v Istruggled band to hand,and si .*k at. tyia*t, against what I felt to be an ineaf oraUle fun?, andon the afternoon of the eigbtday 4 found myself alone and aldespairing, save for the thought of the happiness ofthe-frwor’l had loved beet in the world. - - The sunset came a* I sat by the lake aide, flooding my desolate.world with a heavenly glory,like a sigh from, them to me of their n^w-found, Joy. The stars tad cofne out- before I veiltured to return to the worse than deserted house. I could not hope for help . from my neighbors until I sought ft myself the next day. and I had to look forward to & night— hdw horrible I* did not foresee, or I could not have endured iL What follows I could scarcely credit mv»elf,if I did not boar on my hand a tangible, ni-oof of it in a Welldefined sear; and, £v*n now. I could not bear to write .fin that niglita *xpe- ... riehce bad not nyj children's laughter and my loving husband's care long since banished all unnatural gloom from my life. * la^L 0 ® r b,ul on the laxaahore, toward n# evening, I had heard a disunt sb*>f; ft scarcely roused me. A jportenmn, J thought, had wan deredtrom his encampment on the" *« opposite shore, bad seen some game in’ our wild woods, killed It, and his canoe -m. had long since carried him away. In ‘ darkness, I groped my. . way btfck through the familiar Jftrfe pajn and reached my awn door. I atari* bhould pass iu thefutureIfieir feet were still; the busy feet that

had toiled for me, followed me, and Jedteen ever near me! I was to go fab bay rugged path alone! Heartsick and stopped at the door, and leaning my head against it, sobbed IfawMontrolable despair. Bred out at length, X bad grown quiet, and was imvitot to lift the hush, when a faint moan, as of animal in pain, 2nd close to me, startled me; then a death like silence reigned. * I knew I bad not been mistaken. . I felt that I must forget myself and help the poor creature in distress. “It is very good for strength to know that some one needs yon to be strong.’! No longer hesitating, I hurried into the Mitle cabin, struck a light, and went in the direction whence the moan had reached my ear. I thought of the shot I had heard. It was quite possible a poor, wounded deer was lying in the boshes. Yee! I ooul l now see its skin —unmistakably a saw dun .color. It lay quite still—perhaps that was its dying gasp!—ana so I came quite close to it, leaned over, and, paralyzed witfehorror saw my mother’s lam, eniy yolbg and very beautiful, ag Mie must hsrve looked when a girl. Beatnly pale, dead, possibly, she lay—matted hair all about her face and clothed in doeskin. Just tnen she stirred; it was not death. All wonder ceased within me, every feeling fled before the thought that this being, whatever, whoever she was might be saved Jto live. t dragged her.the few steps into the heuse, laid her on hay hemlock houghs, untouched by me since the sickness visited us. Then I found a wound in the poor creature’s side and bound it up; bathed her head, and in the quiet, how again I felt startled at seeing my mother's image, young aud fair, before mq, and, when at length her great eyes opened, I felt it must be that sister lost to me till now, and sent back in this r sad hour to take my mother’s place. I leaned forward* in an access ot tenderness, to'welcome her, when a look of fnght. an animale-like, wild with terror, took possesion of her face, and a low sortn of snarl brook from her human Ups. r'B .

Tb n start she gave ceased a fresh flow ot blood; dimness passed over her eyes. Again I staunched the wound, and prepared some nourishmen i i *iu sh awaked. Too busied in these ways for further «; violation, only with a strange weight at my heart and weariness of body, suddenly I felt the gleam of eyes watching me. Such strange eyes! No - human expression about them; a stealthy look in them pow. Gently as I couM I approached. her side. Bhe trembled and tried to bide her head when l offered my carfully prepared food. I paqved away studiously avoided any appearance of watching ner. Yet 1 was intentTy conscious of bet every pnovemfjit l could see her eyeing eagerly with a wretched, famished look at a raw venison steak that had beep forgottep and lay on the table close beside her. Suddenly likp a bird of prfey, she grasped it, andin a moment she had turn it in pieces and devoured it. Horror Ailed my heart. TJoi'dd this creature be human? I sat stilly, in the corner, where, myself unsc«i. I could watch and restrain her if n ecsseary,. and sopit-r weak ness overcoming her—after this last effort she

day tossing.io au uneasy sleep. Oh! I was so weary and so very lonely! The dreadful night was almost at an end. I went to her side, threw myself on the bed b&ide her, and put my arms about her neck. Again her wonderful eyes opened full in my face. 1 fixed them witfl mt ifwn. I caressed her, called her by tue.endearing names of qjd I besought her to be gentle and to love uir. I toW her sbe my ovwi, tbe .only creaturo left for me to love and care sot! One short second It seemed a soul looked.out of her glorous deerlike eyes, then, with a groan as if she gave the struggle over,'.and with that low. fearful growl again, she fastened her white teeth in my hand. Shrieking with the pain, I fainted. When T came to myself, (fawn was atrugglfng in at the window; leaf-shad-■W' flickered on the floor. Fearful pain in niy hand roused me at lepgtb, and consuming thirst dro4£ me to the woods toward the spring to get a driuk. - I struggled through the Underbrush, and there, close to the water, discerned r _a confused There lay my poor jfisfer, dead, lief head pilkowed on a ■wildcat of the woods, killed by the same hand,' probably,that had wounded her fatally.