The broken surface of the land,
however, limited the view to an horizon of no great extent, though the art
of man could scarcely devise colors so vivid, or so gay, as those which
were afforded by the brilliant hues of the foliage. The keen, biting
frosts, known at the close of a New-England autumn, had already touched
the broad and fringed leaves of the maples, and the sudden and secret
process had been wrought upon all the other varieties of the forest,
producing that magical effect, which can be nowhere seen, except in
regions in which nature is so bountiful and luxuriant in summer, and so
sudden and so stern in the change of the seasons.
Over this picture of prosperity and peace, the eye of old Mark Heathcote
wandered with a keen degree of worldly prudence. The melancholy sounds of
the various toned bells, ringing hollow and plaintively among the arches
of the woods, gave him reason to believe that the herds of the family were
returning, voluntarily, from their unlimited forest pasturage. His
grandson, a fine spirited boy of some fourteen years, was approaching
through the fields.
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