"Aye, and by a pillar of fire, too," said Nancy, remembering the
straw-stack.

"And instead of manna he hath sent this turkey," added Dan.

Supper was now over, and after it was cleared away, and they had had
prayers, the mother sent the rest of the family to bed, while she
busied herself with final preparations for the next day. She plucked
and stuffed the great turkey, first cutting off the long wing-feathers
for hearth-brooms, and set it away on the shelf in the secret closet
along with Nancy's array of pies. It was late when at last she lit her
candle, covered the ashes, and climbed wearily to bed.

The wind changed in the night and when they looked out next morning
the air was full of great white snow-flakes, and the blackened ruins
of the straw-stack were neatly covered with a mantle of white.

The family was up betimes, and as they ate their good breakfast of
sausages, johnny-cake, and maple syrup, they sent many a thought
toward poor Zeb, wandering in the forest or perhaps lying dead in its
depths.

It was a solemn little party that later left the cabin in the care
of Nimrod and started across the glistening fields to attend the
Thanksgiving service in the meeting-house. They were made more solemn
still by the sight of the two Indians sitting with hands and feet
firmly fixed in the stocks, apparently as indifferent to the falling
snow as though they were images of stone. The first snowfall, usually
such a joy to Nancy and Daniel, now only seemed to make them more