But it is not known whether it was the next autumn, or a year or two after, some hunters came upon traces of the child’s wanderings among the hills, in a different direction from the previous search, and farther than it was supposed he could have gone.  They found some little houses, such as children build of twigs and sticks of wood, and these the little fellow had probably built for amusement in his lonesome hours.  Nothing, it seems to me, was ever more strangely touching than this incident,—­his finding time for childish play, while wandering to his death in these desolate woods,—­and then pursuing his way again, till at last he lay down to die on the dark mountain-side.  Finally, on a hill which E——­ pointed out to me, they found a portion of the child’s hair adhering to the overthrown trunk of a tree; and this is all that was ever found of him.  But it was supposed that the child had subsisted, perhaps for weeks, on the berries and other sustenance such as a forest-child knew how to find in the woods.  I forgot to say, above, that a piece of birch or other bark was found, which he appeared to have gnawed.  It was thought that the cry of “Father! father!” which the mother and little sister heard in the night-time, was really the little fellow’s voice, then within hearing of his home; but he wandered away again, and at last sank down, and Death found him and carried him up to God.  His bones were never found; and it was thought that the foxes or other wild animals had taken his little corpse, and scattered the bones, and that, dragging the body along, one lock of his flaxen hair had adhered to a tree.

I asked a physician whether it were possible that a child could live so long in the woods; and he thought it was, and said that children often show themselves more tenacious of life than grown people, and live longer in a famine.  This is to me a very affecting story; and it seems to be felt as such by the people of the country.  The little boy’s parents, and his brothers and sisters, who probably lived to maturity or old age, are all forgotten; but he lives in tradition, and still causes wet eyes to strangers, as he did to me.

To account for the singularity of his not having been found by such numbers as took up the search, it is suggested that he was perhaps frightened, and perhaps concealed himself when he heard the noise of people making their way through the forest, people being apt to do so, when they get mazed with wandering in the woods.  But it is strange that old hunters, with dogs, should have failed to find him.  However, there is the fact.

After breakfast (a broiled chicken and excellent coffee) I walked out by myself.  The brook would be a beautiful plaything for my children, and I wish I had such a one for them.  As I looked down into it from the bridge, I saw little fish, minnows, small chubs, and perch sporting about and rising eagerly to anything that was thrown in.  Returning towards the house, I encountered an ass, who seemed glad to