ues of the morning, and then the romantic
incidents of the hour, had occupied my thoughts, and hindered me from
dwelling on future plans or purposes. Now, however, that I was coming
close to the clearing of the squatter, I began to feel, that I was also
_approaching a crisis_.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A RUDE RESPONSE.

An opening of about two acres in extent, of irregular semi-circular
shape, with the creek for its chord, and a worm-fence zig-zagging around
its arc--scarcely a clearing: since trees bleached and barkless stand
thickly over it; a log shanty, with clapboard roof, in the centre of the
concavity, flanked on one side by a rude horse-shed, on the other, by a
corn-crib of split rails; all three--shed, shanty, and crib--like the
tower of Pisa, threatening to tumble down; near the shanty, a wood-pile,
with an old axe lying upon the chop-block; by the shed and crib, a
litter of white "shucks" and "cobs;" in front, among the stumps and
girdled trees, a thin straggle of withered corn-stalks, shorn of their
leafy tops--some standing, some trampled down: such was the picture
before my eyes, as, with my horse, breast up against the fence, I looked
into the clearing of Squatter Holt!

"It must be the place--my place? there is no other clearing within a
mile? My directions have been given with exact minuteness of detail. I
have followed them to the letter: I cannot be mistaken: I have reached
Holt's Clearing at last."

I had ridden quite up to the fence, but could see no gate. A set of
bars, however, between two roughly mortised uprights, indicated an
entrance to the enclosure. The top bar was out. Not feeling inclined
to dismount, I sprang my horse _over_ the others; and then trotted
forward in front of the shanty. The door stood wide open. I had hopes
that the sound of my horse's hoof-stroke would have brought some one
into it; but no one came! Was there nobody within? I waited for a
minute or two, listening for some sign of life in the interior of the
cabin. No voice reached me--no sound of any one stirring! Perhaps the
cabin was empty! Not untenanted: since I could perceive the signs of
occupation, in some articles of rude furniture visible inside the
doorway. Perhaps the inmates had gone out for a moment, and might be in
the woods, near at hand?

I looked around the clearing, and over the fence into the forest beyond.
No one to be seen no one to be heard! Without the cabin, as within,
reigned