584
HISTORY OF THE REDLON FAMILY.
the absence of their son. The father does not play the pipe, nor is the
mother's song heard as she works at the wheel. But time is healing, and
the demands of a laborious life soon made the recurrence of their thoughts
less frequent; they cling more closely to the little ones and the wonted
cheerfulness in time returns.
But turn from that home to follow the departed son. Crossing the
channel to the mainland he moves south to the Scottish border, thence
onward to England, where he was seized by a press-gang employed by the
British naval authorities, and hurried on board a man-of-war, which, in a
few hours, sailed for America. Reaching the New England coast, and
being in want of fresh water, they cast anchor off "Old York," in Mas-
sachusetts colony, and went on shore to fill their casks. Among the num-
ber sent on this errand was the subject of this narrative. He had been
pressed into a service which was invested with a bondage too galling to
be endured, and determined to seek his liberty at all hazards; the favored
hour had now arrived, and the moment his feet touched the shore he ran
for the deep and shadowy forest; if he was pursued he was not overtaken,
and made good his escape.
And now consider the situation and prospects of this young adventurer.
How singular the fate which had placed him upon a foreign shore! Alone
in a strange land; but worse than that, alone in a deep, dark, howling
wilderness, and without the knowledge of the existence of any human
being within hundreds of miles of him, save those from whom he had so
recently escaped; exposed to wild beasts and threatened with starvation,
with no weapon of defence or means of supply, his case was hard indeed.
But his was not a spirit to quail in an hour like this, and he pushes boldly
forward, like Abraham of old, "not knowing whither he went." The
shadows of night came down upon the primeval forest, and he could see
to proceed no longer; wild beasts crept from their lairs and answered
each other with terrible screams from the hills around him; and weary,
cold, and hungry, the young man sank upon the leaves to rest. Long and
dreary was that first night in America. Fearing to sleep, he spent his
time in memory of his childhood home and the dear ones there; the ears of
affection that fell upon the leafy couch hallowed the place and made it a
Bethel to him ever after. No sound save the howl of wild animals,the
hooting of owls, the solemn note of the night-bird, and the sighing of be
zephyrs in the trees above him, reached his ear. How sad his musings
and dark the forebodings of that night! What numbers of questions re-
volved in his troubled mind! Was he to die alone and unknown in this
boundless wood, where none would ever learn his sad fate? Must his
body become food for wild beasts, and his requiem be sung by the way-
ing pines? But he sleeps at last, and dreams of home and friends, while
the angels of God watch over him.
Rising from his hard bed he gathers roots and nuts to appease his
hunger, and, guided by the rising sun, he staggers on, over hills, down
through valleys, into tangled swamps, fording muddy streams, until, ex-
hausted and bruised by falling over ragged stones, night spreads her
mantle over him again, and he stretches himself once more upon the leaves.
Another night of troubled dreams, and he is up and away: away to the
highlands, and after a few hours of weary wandering he heard what made
his heart leap for joy, heard a human voice, the echoes of which, ring-
ing through the forest, were sweeter music than he ever heard. With
swelling heart and bounding step he hastens forward, till, in a little while,
