The work of the savages now seemed complete. An effectual check appeared
to be placed to the further progress of civilization in the ill-fated
valley of the Wish-Ton-wish. Had nature been left to its own work, a few
years would have covered the deserted clearing with its ancient
vegetation; and half a century would have again buried the whole of its
quiet glades, in the shadows of the forest. But it was otherwise decreed.
The sun had reached the meridian, and the hostile band had been gone some
hours, before aught occurred likely to affect this seeming decision of
Providence. To one acquainted with the recent horrors, the breathing of
the airs over the ruins might have passed for the whisperings of departed
spirits. In short, it appeared as if the silence of the wilderness had
once more resumed its reign, when it was suddenly though slightly
interrupted. A movement was made within the ruins of the block. It sounded
as if billets of wood were gradually and cautiously displaced, and then a
human head was reared slowly, and with marked suspicion, above the shaft
of the well.
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