cleared on the firmer ground, at the margin of the flats, where barns
and farm buildings had been built, and orchards planted; but, in order
to preserve the harmony of his view, the captain had caused all the
stumps to be pulled and burnt, giving to these places the same air of
agricultural finish as characterized the fields on the lower land.

To this sylvan scene, at a moment which preceded the setting of the sun
by a little more than an hour, and in the first week of the genial
month of May, we must now bring the reader in fancy. The season had
been early, and the Beaver Manor, or the part of it which was
cultivated, lying low and sheltered, vegetation had advanced
considerably beyond the point that is usual, at that date, in the
elevated region of which we have been writing. The meadows were green
with matted grasses, the wheat and rye resembled rich velvets, and the
ploughed fields had the fresh and mellowed appearance of good husbandry
and a rich soil. The shrubbery, of which the captain's English taste
had introduced quantities, was already in leaf, and even portions of
the forest began to veil their sombre mysteries with the delicate
foliage of an American spring.

The site of the ancient pond was a miracle of rustic beauty. Everything
like inequality or imperfection had disappeared, the whole presenting a
broad and picturesquely shaped basin, with outlines fashioned
principally by nature, an artist that rarely fails in effect. The flat
was divided into fields by low post-and-rail fences, the captain making
it a law to banish all unruly animals from his estate. The barns and
out-buildings were neatly made and judiciously placed, and the three or
four roads, or lanes, that led to them, crossed the low-land in such
graceful curves, as greatly to increase the beauty of the landscape.
Here and there a log cabin was visible, nearly buried in the forest,