Sanders' Union Fourth Reader Part 48

UN' DER GROWTH, shrubbery.

CON FRONT', stand before.

CA TAS' TRO PHE, disaster; calamity.

DE TER' RED, hindered; prevented.

HUR' RI CANE, violent tempest.

BUF' FET ING, beating with the hands.

ATH LET' IC, strong; powerful.

MI RAC' U LOUS, wonderful.

TRE MEN DOUS, terrible; frightful.

DES' PE RATE, rash; furious.

IN VOL' UN TA RY, spontaneous.

CAT' A RACT, waterfall.

RE SUS' CI TATE, revive; bring to life.

CH AR' AC TER IZ ED, distinguished.

THE INTREPID YOUTH.

1. It was a calm, sunny day in the year 1750; the scene, a piece of forest land in the north of Virginia, near a n.o.ble stream of water.

Implements of surveying were lying about, and several men reclining under the trees, betokened, by their dress and appearance, that they composed a party engaged in laying out the wild lands of the country.

2. These persons had apparently just finished their dinner. Apart from the group, walked a young man of a tall and compact frame, and moved with the elastic tread of one accustomed to constant exercise in the open air. His countenance wore a look of decision and manliness not usually found in one so young, for he was apparently little over eighteen years of age. His hat had been cast off, as if for comfort, and he had paused, with one foot advanced, in a graceful and natural att.i.tude.

3. Suddenly there was a shriek, then another, and several in rapid succession. The voice was that of a woman, and seemed to proceed from the other side of a dense thicket. At the first scream, the youth turned his head in the direction of the sound; but when it was repeated, he pushed aside the undergrowth which separated him from it, and, quickening his footsteps, as the cries succeeded each other in alarming rapidity, he soon dashed into an open s.p.a.ce on the banks of the stream, where stood a rude log-cabin.

4. As the young man broke from the undergrowth, he saw his companions crowded together on the banks of the river, while in the midst stood the woman, from whom proceeded the shrieks, held back by two of the men, but struggling vigorously for freedom. It was but the work of a moment for the young man to make his way through the crowd and confront the female.

The instant her eye fell on him, she exclaimed, "Oh! sir, you will do something for me. Make them release me,--for the love of G.o.d! _My boy,--my poor boy is drowning, and they will not let me go!"_ "It would be madness; she will jump into the river," said one, "and the rapids would dash her to pieces in a moment!"

5. The youth had scarcely waited for these words, for he recollected the child, a bold little boy of four years old, whose beautiful blue eyes and flaxen ringlets made him a favorite with all who knew him. He had been accustomed to play in the little inclosure before the cabin, but the gate having been left open, he had stolen incautiously out, reached the edge of the bank, and was in the act of looking over, when his mother saw him.

6. The shriek she uttered only hastened the catastrophe she feared; for the child, frightened at the cry of its mother, lost its balance, and fell into the stream, which here went foaming and roaring along amid innumerable rocks, const.i.tuting the most dangerous rapids known in that section of the country. Scream now followed scream in rapid succession, as the agonized mother rushed to the bank.

7. The party we left reclining in the shade within a few steps of the accident, were immediately on the spot. Fortunate it was that they were so near, else the mother would have jumped in after her child, and both been lost. Several of the men approached the brink, and were on the point of springing in after the child, when the sight of the sharp rocks crowding the channel, the rush and whirl of the waters, and the want of any knowledge where to look for the boy, deterred them, and they gave up the enterprise.

8. Not so with the n.o.ble youth. His first work was to throw off his coat; next to spring to the edge of the bank. Here he stood for a moment, running his eyes rapidly over the scene below, taking with a glance the different currents and the most dangerous of the rocks, in order to shape his course when in the stream. He had scarcely formed his conclusion, when he saw in the water a white object, which he knew to be the boy's dress, and he plunged into the wild and roaring rapids.

9. _"Thank G.o.d, he will save my child,"_ cried the mother; _"there he is!--oh! my boy, my darling boy, how could I leave you!"_ Every one had rushed to the brink of the precipice, and was now following with eager eyes the progress of the youth, as the current bore him onward, like a feather in the embrace of the hurricane. Now it seemed as if he would be dashed against a jutting rock, over which the water flew in foam, and a whirlpool would drag him in, from whose grasp escape would appear impossible.

10. At times, the current bore him under, and he would be lost to sight; then, just as the spectators gave him up, he would appear, though far from where he vanished, still buffeting amid the vortex. Oh, how that mother's straining eyes followed him in his perilous career! how her heart sunk when he went under,--and with what a gush of joy when she saw him emerge again from the waters, and, flinging the waves aside with his athletic arms, struggle on in pursuit of her boy!

11. But it seemed as if his generous efforts were not to avail; for, though the current was bearing off the boy before his eyes, scarcely ten feet distant, he could not, despite his gigantic efforts, overtake the drowning child. On flew the youth and child; and it was miraculous how each escaped being dashed in pieces against the rocks. Twice the boy went out of sight, and a suppressed shriek escaped the mother's lips; but twice he reappeared, and then, with hands wrung wildly together, and breathless anxiety, she followed his progress, as his unresisting form was hurried with the onward current.

12. The youth now appeared to redouble his exertions, for they were approaching the most dangerous part of the river, where the rapids, contracting between the narrow sh.o.r.es, shot almost perpendicularly down a declivity of fifteen feet. The rush of the waters at this spot was tremendous, and no one ventured to approach its vicinity, even in a canoe, lest he should be dashed in pieces. What, then, would be the youth's fate, unless he soon overtook the child? He seemed fully sensible of the increasing peril, and now urged his way through the foaming current with a desperate strength.

13. Three times he was on the point of grasping the child, when the waters whirled the prize from him. The third effort was made just as they were entering within the influence of the current above the fall; and when it failed, the mother's heart sunk within her, and she groaned, fully expecting the youth to give up his task. But no; he only pressed forward the more eagerly; and, as they breathlessly watched amid the boiling waters, they saw the form of the brave youth following close after that of the boy.

14. And now, like an arrow from the bow, pursuer and pursued shot to the brink of the precipice. An instant they hung there, distinctly visible amid the foaming waters. Every brain grew dizzy at the sight. But a shout of involuntary exultation burst from the spectators, when they saw the boy held aloft by the right arm of the youth,--a shout that was suddenly checked with horror, when they both vanished into the abyss below!

15. A moment elapsed before a word was spoken, or a breath drawn. The mother ran forward, and then stood gazing with fixed eyes at the foot of the cataract, as if her all depended upon what the next moment should reveal. Suddenly she gave the glad cry, (_f_.) "_There they are! See!

they are safe!_--Great G.o.d, I thank thee!" And, sure enough, there was the youth still unharmed, and still buffeting the waters. He had just emerged from the boiling vortex below the cataract. With one hand he held aloft the child, and with the other he was making for the sh.o.r.e.

16. They ran, they shouted, they scarcely knew what they did, until they reached his side, just as he was struggling to the bank. They drew him out almost exhausted. The boy was senseless; but his mother declared that he still lived, as she pressed him frantically to her bosom. The youth could scarcely stand, so faint was he from his exertions.

17. Who can describe the scene that followed,--the mother's calmness while she strove to resuscitate her boy, and her wild grat.i.tude to his preserver, when the child was out of danger, and sweetly sleeping in her arms? Our pen shrinks at the task. But her words, p.r.o.nounced then, were remembered afterwards by more than one who heard them.

18. "_G.o.d will reward you_," said she, "as _I_ can not. He will do great things for you in return for this day's work, and the blessings of thousands besides mine will attend you." And so it was; for, to the _hero_ of that hour, were subsequently confided the destinies of a mighty nation. But, throughout his long career, what tended to make him more honored and respected beyond all men, was the _self-sacrificing spirit_, which, in the rescue of that mother's child, as in the more august events of his life, characterized OUR BELOVED WASHINGTON.

QUESTIONS.--1. Describe the scene where this accident took place. 2.

What did the woman say to the young man? 3. Why would not the men release the woman? 4. What did the young man do? 5. Did he finally succeed in saving the child? 6. What did the mother say to him? 7. Who did this youth prove to be?

LESSON LXV.

RAB' BI, teacher or doctor.

HEA' THEN, pagan; gentile.

BOUND' A RIES, limits.

WAN' DER ED, strayed.

SUB MIS' SIVE, resigned; humble.

PIL' GRIM, wanderer.

RE PEL' LED, drove off.

IN HOS' PI TA BLE, unkind to strangers.

MAN' TLE, garment, cloak.

CON SOL' ING, comforting.

RE POS' ING, lying down; resting.

CA LAM' I TY, misfortune.

POUN' CED, fell or jumped suddenly.

IM PLOR' ING, begging; entreating.

DE SPOIL' ED, robbed.

CHURL' ISH, surly; rude.

THE FOUR MISFORTUNES.

JOHN G. SANE.

1. A pious Rabbi, forced by heathen hate, To quit the boundaries of his native land, Wandered abroad, submissive to his fate, Through pathless woods and wastes of burning sand.

2. A patient a.s.s, to bear him in his flight, A dog, to guard him from the robber's stealth, A lamp, by which to read the law at night,-- Was all the pilgrim's store of worldly wealth.

3. At set of sun he reached a little town, And asked for shelter and a crumb of food; But every face repelled him with a frown, And so he sought a lodging in the wood.

4. "'Tis very hard," the weary traveler said, "And most inhospitable, I protest, To send me fasting to this forest bed; But G.o.d is good, and means it for the best!"

5. He lit his lamp to read the sacred law, Before he spread his mantle for the night; But the wind rising with a sudden flaw, He read no more,--the gust put out the light.

6. "'Tis strange," he said, "'tis very strange, indeed, That ere I lay me down to take my rest, A chapter of the law I may not read,-- But G.o.d is good, and all is for the best!"

7. With these consoling words the Rabbi tries To sleep,--his head reposing on a log,-- But, ere he fairly shut his drowsy eyes, A wolf came up and killed his faithful dog.