Legends of the Shawangunk2 JR.pdf - Friends of the Sabbath ...

140 Legends of the Shawangunk.
removed from the valley, found no difficulty in making satisfactory terms with the heirs
of Hardenburgh. Thus was ended what the old settlers termed the “Hardenburgh war,” a
term by which it is usually spoken of to this day by the residents of the valley.
LITTLE JESSIE MITTEER AND THE BEAR-TRAP.
“BE sure and start for home early; you know I don’t like to have Jessie out after dark,
when there are so many wild animals about. You remember it was only a night or so ago
that we heard the wolves howl dreadfully over by the creek; and I heard to-day they
killed some sheep of Job Jansen’s.”
Such was the parting injunction of Mrs. Samuel Mitteer, as her husband and little
daughter Jessie set out one afternoon on an errand to the house of a neighbor some three
miles distant. The husband bade her not to disturb herself on that account, assuring her
that he would be home before nightfall; and the little girl, first kissing her mamma
good-bye, took her father’s hand and departed in high spirits.
They reached their destination, but were obliged to wait a short time for the neighbor
to return. The business being arranged, the men engaged in a friendly chat, and the
moments flew by unheeded. The sun had already disappeared behind the wall of forest to
the west when Samuel bethought himself of his promise to his wife. Still, he did not
dream of any more serious result than a little anxiety on the part of the good woman; and
taking his daughter by the hand, set out on their homeward journey as fast as her little
feet could carry her.
Her merry voice rang through the woods, now growing dim and solemn with the
gathering darkness: and they had already passed the Hemlock wamp, and were more than
half way home, when their ears were greeted with a sound that made the father
involuntarily clutch the arm of his little companion with an energy that could not fail to
alarm her. Again the sound came through the darkening forest aisles and echoed from
hill to hill, and at last died away to a whisper.
“What is it, Papa?” exclaimed the child, whose quick glance noted the strange
demeanor of her father; “is it anything that will hurt us? I do wish I was with Mamma!”
Without deigning a reply, Samuel caught the child in his arms, and ran in the direction of
home with all his might.
Reader, did you ever hear the howl of a wolf in the woods of a still night—when
some old forester opens his jaws and sends forth a volume of sound so deep, so
prolonged, so changeful, that, as it rolls through the forest and comes back in quavering
echoes from the mountains, you are ready to declare that his single voice is an
agglomerate of a dozen all blended into one? Then as you wait for the sound to die away,
perhaps, across the valley, another will open