out on a dry and sun-burnt plain, where their steps left no impression.
Coubitant then advanced to the side of his prisoner, and, taking his
arm in his powerful grasp, he compelled him to advance, at an almost
breathless speed, across the plain. In the wood, on the other side, he
allowed a short pause, and gave Henrich some water from a bottle made
of a dried gourd, which hung about his neck; and thus they traveled on,
with slight refreshment and little rest, until the sun arose in all his
splendor, and displayed to Henrich's admiring gaze the wild and
magnificent woodland scenery through which he was travelling. Under
other circumstances, he would keenly have enjoyed the novelty and the
beauty of the objects that met his eyes, so different from the
luxuriant, but flat and monotonous fields, and gardens, and canals,
that he so well remembered in Holland. Here all was wild and varied;
and all was on a scale of grandeur that inspired him with a feeling of
awe and solemnity, heightened, no doubt, by the fearful uncertainty of
his fate, and the thought that, perhaps, this was the last time that he
should look upon these glorious hills, and ancient forests, and wide
rushing rivers--the handiworks, and the visible teachers of God's
power. Something of American scenery he had become acquainted with in
his rambles round the Indian village, but only enough to make him long
to see more; and had he now been travelling by the side of his father,
or his friend Brewster, the elastic morning air, and the splendid and
ever-varying views, would have made his young heart bound with joy and
health.

As it was, the silent beauty of nature was not without its influence on
the captive boy. He seemed to feel more strongly the presence and the
goodness of his heavenly Father; and his young spirit was cheered to
endure his present desolate situation, and strengthened to meet
whatever future trials might await him. He had learnt from Brewster to