It was a wonderful clear night, the moon rising, as we judged, about
eight of the clock, over the tops of the hills on the easterly side of
the lake, and shining brightly on the water in a long line of light, as
if a silver bridge had been laid across it. Looking out into the
forest, we could see the beams of the moon, falling here and there
through the thick tops of the pines and hemlocks, and showing their tall
trunks, like so many pillars in a church or temple. There was a
westerly wind blowing, not steadily, but in long gusts, which, sounding
from a great distance through the pine leaves, did make a solemn and not
unpleasing music, to which I listened at the door until the cold drove
me in for shelter. Our horses having been fed with corn, which Mr.
Easton took with him, were tied at the back of the building, under the
cover of a thick growth of hemlocks, which served to break off the night
wind. The widow and I had a comfortable bed in the corner of the room,
which we made of small hemlock sprigs, having our cloaks to cover us,
and our saddlebags for pillows.
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