y told me, I decided
that what he said must be true. His presence at once gave me a feeling
of protection and security and creeping close to his side on the cedar
boughs which formed our bed, while the immense fire blazed in front of
our tent, I soon forgot my childish fears, in a sound sleep which
remained unbroken till the morning sun was shining brightly above the
trees. But it was long before I heard the last of the night I spent in
the bush; and as often as my brothers wished to tease me, they would
enquire if I had lately heard the cries of a catamount? Time passed on
till I grew up, and leaving the paternal home went forth to make my own
way in the world. Old Rufus still resided in R. When a child I used to
fancy that he would never seem older than he had appeared since my
earliest recollection of him; but about the time I left home there was a
very observable change in his appearance. I noticed that his walk was
slow and feeble, and his form was bending beneath the weight of years
and his hair was becoming white by the frosts of time. I occasionally
visited my parents, and during these visits I frequently met with my old
friend; and it was evident that he was fast losing his hold of life. He
still resided alone much against the wishes of his neighbours, but his
old habits still clung to him. I removed to a longer distance and
visited my early home less frequently. Returning to R., after a longer
absence than usual, I learned that the health of Old Rufus had so much
failed, that the neighbours, deeming it unsafe for him to remain longer
alone, at length persuaded him to remove to the house of a neighbour,
where each one contributed toward his support. His mind had become weak
as well as his body; indeed he had become almost a child again, and it
was but a short time that he required the kind attentions which all his
old neighbours bestowed upon him. I remained at home for several weeks,
and ere I left, I followed the remains of Old Rufus to the grave. I have
stood by many a grave of both kindred and stranger; never before or
since have I seen one laid in the grave without the presence of some
relative; but no one stood by his grave who bore to him the least
relationship. It was on a mild Sabbath afternoon in midsummer that we
laid him to rest in the burial ground of R.; and if none of his kindred
stood by to shed the tear of natural affection, there was many a cheek
wet with the tear of sensibility when the coffin