LOST IN THE BACKWOODS. 

A TALE OF THE CANADIAN FOREST. 

BY MRS. TRAILL

Preface

The interesting tale contained in this volume of romantic adventure inthe forests of Canada, was much appreciated and enjoyed by a large circleof young readers when first published, under the title of "The CanadianCrusoes. " After being many years out of print, it will now, we hope andbelieve, with a new and more descriptive title, prove equally attractiveto our young friends of the present time. 

EDINBURGH, 1882. 

CHAPTER I. 

 "The morning had shot her bright streamers on high, O'er Canada, opening all pale to the sky, Still dazzling and white was the robe that she wore, Except where the ocean wave lashed on the shore"

 _Jacobite Song_

There lies, between the Rice Lake and the Ontario, a deep and fertilevalley, surrounded by lofty wood-crowned hills, clothed chiefly withgroves of oak and pine, the sides of the hills and the alluvialbottoms display a variety of noble timber trees of various kinds, asthe useful and beautiful maple, beech, and hemlock. This beautiful andhighly picturesque valley is watered by many clear streams, whence itderives its appropriate appellation of "Cold Springs. "

At the period my little history commences, this now highly cultivatedspot was an unbroken wilderness, --all but two clearings, where dweltthe only occupiers of the soil, --which previously owned no otherpossessors than the wandering hunting tribes of wild Indians, to whomthe right of the hunting grounds north of Rice Lake appertained, according to their forest laws. 

I speak of the time when the neat and flourishing town of Cobourg, nowan important port on Lake Ontario, was but a village in embryo, --if itcontained even a log-house or a block-house, it was all that itdid, --and the wild and picturesque ground upon which the fastincreasing village of Port Hope is situated had not yielded one foresttree to the axe of the settler. No gallant vessel spread her sails towaft the abundant produce of grain and Canadian stores along thewaters of that noble sheet of water; no steamer had then furrowed itsbosom with her iron paddles, bearing the stream of emigration towardsthe wilds of our northern and western forests, there to render alonely trackless desert a fruitful garden. What will not time and theindustry of man, assisted by the blessing of a merciful God, effect?To him be the glory and honour; for we are taught that "unless theLord build the house, their labour is but lost that build it: withoutthe Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain. "

But to my tale. And first it will be necessary to introduce to theacquaintance of my young readers the founders of our little settlementat Cold Springs. 

Duncan Maxwell was a young Highland soldier, a youth of eighteen, atthe famous battle of Quebec, where, though only a private, he receivedthe praise of his colonel for his brave conduct. At the close of thebattle Duncan was wounded; and as the hospital was full at the time, he was billeted in the house of a poor French Canadian widow in theQuebec suburb. Here, though a foreigner and an enemy, he received muchkind attention from his excellent hostess and her family, consistingof a young man about his own age, and a pretty black-eyed lass notmore than sixteen. The widow Perron was so much occupied with otherlodgers--for she kept a sort of boarding-house--that she had not muchtime to give to Duncan, so that he was left a great deal to her sonPierre, and a little to Catharine, her daughter. 

Duncan Maxwell was a fine, open-tempered, frank lad, and he soon wonthe regard of Pierre and his sister. In spite of the prejudices ofcountry, and the difference of language and national customs, a steadyand increasing friendship grew up between the young Highlander and thechildren of his hostess; therefore it was not without feelings of deepregret that they heard the news that the regiment to which Duncanbelonged was ordered for embarkation to England, and Duncan was so farconvalescent as to be pronounced quite well enough to join it. Alasfor poor Catharine! she now found that parting with her patient was asource of the deepest sorrow to her young and guileless heart; nor wasDuncan less moved at the separation from his gentle nurse. It might befor years, and it might be for ever, he could not tell; but he couldnot tear himself away without telling the object of his affections howdear she was to him, and to whisper a hope that he might yet returnone day to claim her as his bride; and Catharine, weeping andblushing, promised to wait for that happy day, or to remain single forhis sake. 

They say the course of true love never did run smooth; but with theexception of this great sorrow, the sorrow of separation, the love ofour young Highland soldier and his betrothed knew no otherinterruption, for absence served only to strengthen the affectionwhich was founded on gratitude and esteem. 

Two long years passed, however, and the prospect of reunion was yetdistant, when an accident, which disabled Duncan from serving hiscountry, enabled him to retire with the usual little pension, andreturn to Quebec to seek his affianced. Some changes had taken placeduring that short period: the widow Perron was dead; Pierre, the gay, lively-hearted Pierre, was married to a daughter of a lumberer; andCatharine, who had no relatives in Quebec, had gone up the countrywith her brother and his wife, and was living in some littlesettlement above Montreal with them. 

Thither Duncan followed, and shortly afterwards was married to hisfaithful Catharine. On one point they had never differed, both beingof the same religion. 

Pierre had seen a good deal of the fine country on the shores of LakeOntario; he had been hunting with some friendly Indians between thegreat waters and the Rice Lake; and he now thought if Duncan andhimself could make up their minds to a quiet life in the woods, therewas not a better spot than the hill pass between the plains and thebig lake to fix themselves upon. Duncan was of the same opinion whenhe saw the spot. It was not rugged and bare like his own Highlands, but softer in character, yet his heart yearned for the hill country. In those days there was no obstacle to taking possession of any tractof land in the unsurveyed forests; therefore Duncan agreed with hisbrother-in-law to pioneer the way with him, get a dwelling put up, andsome ground prepared and "seeded down, " and then to return for theirwives, and settle as farmers. Others had succeeded, had formed littlecolonies, and become the heads of villages in due time; why should notthey? And now behold our two backwoodsmen fairly commencing theirarduous life: it was nothing, after all, to Pierre, by previousoccupation a hardy lumberer, or the Scottish soldier, accustomed tobrave all sorts of hardships in a wild country, himself a mountaineer, inured to a stormy climate and scanty fare from his earliest youth. But it is not my intention to dwell upon the trials and difficultiescourageously met and battled with by our settlers and their youngwives. 

There was in those days a spirit of resistance among the firstsettlers on the soil, a spirit to do and bear, that is less commonlymet with now. The spirit of civilization is now so widely diffused, that her comforts are felt even in the depths of the forest, so thatthe newly come emigrant feels comparatively few of the physical evilsthat were endured by the earlier inhabitants. 

The first seed-wheat that was cast into the ground by Duncan andPierre was brought with infinite trouble a distance of fifty miles ina little skiff, navigated along the shores of Lake Ontario by theadventurous Pierre, and from the nearest landing-place transported onthe shoulders of himself and Duncan to their homestead. A day of greatlabour but great joy it was when they deposited their precious freightin safety on the shanty floor. They were obliged to make two journeysfor the contents of the little craft. What toil, what privation theyendured for the first two years! and now the fruits of it began toappear. 

No two creatures could be more unlike than Pierre and Duncan. TheHighlander, stern, steady, persevering, cautious, always giving amplereasons for his doing or his not doing. The Canadian, hopeful, lively, fertile in expedients, and gay as a lark; if one scheme failed, another was sure to present itself. Pierre and Duncan were admirablysuited to be friends and neighbours. The steady perseverance of theScot helped to temper the volatile temperament of the Frenchman. Theygenerally contrived to compass the same end by different means, as twostreams descending from opposite hills will meet in one broad river inthe same valley. 

Years passed on: the farm, carefully cultivated, began to yield itsincrease; food and warm clothing were not wanting in the homestead. Catharine had become, in course of time, the happy mother of fourhealthy children; her sister-in-law had exceeded her in these welcomecontributions to the population of a new colony. 

Between the children of Pierre and Catharine the most charming harmonyprevailed; they grew up as one family, a pattern of affection andearly friendship. Though different in tempers and dispositions, HectorMaxwell, the eldest son of the Scottish soldier, and his cousin, youngLouis Perron, were greatly attached: they, with the young Catharineand Mathilde, formed a little coterie of inseparables; theiramusements, tastes, pursuits, occupations, all blended and harmonizeddelightfully; there were none of those little envyings and bickeringsamong them that pave the way to strife and disunion in after-life. 

Catharine Maxwell and her cousin Louis were more like brother andsister than Hector and Catharine; but Mathilde was gentle anddove-like, and formed a contrast to the gravity of Hector and thevivacity of Louis and Catharine. 

Hector and Louis were fourteen--strong, vigorous, industrious, andhardy, both in constitution and habits. The girls were turned oftwelve. It is not with Mathilde that our story is connected, but withthe two lads and Catharine. With the gaiety and _naivete_ of theFrenchwoman, Catharine possessed, when occasion called it into action, a thoughtful and well-regulated mind, abilities which would well haverepaid the care of mental cultivation; but of book-learning she knewnothing beyond a little reading, and that but imperfectly, acquiredfrom her father's teaching. It was an accomplishment which he hadgained when in the army, having been taught by his colonel's son, alad of twelve years of age, who had taken a great fancy to him, andhad at parting given him a few of his school-books, among which was aTestament without cover or title-page. At parting, the young gentlemanrecommended its daily perusal to Duncan. Had the gift been a Bible, perhaps the soldier's obedience to his priest might have rendered it adead letter to him; but as it fortunately happened, he was unconsciousof any prohibition to deter him from becoming acquainted with thetruths of the gospel. He communicated the power of perusing his booksto his children Hector and Catharine, Duncan and Kenneth, insuccession, with a feeling of intense reverence; even the labour ofteaching was regarded as a holy duty in itself, and was not undertakenwithout deeply impressing the obligation he was conferring upon themwhenever they were brought to the task. It was indeed a precious boon, and the children learned to consider it as a pearl beyond all price inthe trials that awaited them in their eventful career. To herknowledge of religious truths young Catharine added an intimateacquaintance with the songs and legends of her father's romanticcountry; often would her plaintive ballads and old tales, related inthe hut or the wigwam to her attentive auditors, wile away heavythoughts. 

It was a lovely sunny day in the flowery month of June. Canada had notonly doffed that "dazzling white robe" mentioned in the songs of herJacobite emigrants, but had assumed the beauties of her loveliestseason; the last week in May and the first three of June beingparallel to the English May, full of buds and flowers and fair promiseof ripening fruits. 

The high sloping hills surrounding the fertile vale of Cold Springswere clothed with the blossoms of the gorgeous scarlet castilegiacoccinea, or painted-cup; the large, pure, white blossoms of thelily-like trillium grandiflorum; the delicate and fragile lilacgeranium, whose graceful flowers woo the hand of the flower-gathereronly to fade almost within his grasp: the golden cypripedium ormoccasin flower, so singular, so lovely in its colour and formation, waved heavily its yellow blossoms as the breeze shook the stems; andthere, mingling with a thousand various floral beauties, the azurelupine claimed its place, shedding almost a heavenly tint upon theearth. Thousands of roses were blooming on the more level ground, sending forth their rich fragrance, mixed with the delicate scent ofthe feathery ceanothus (New Jersey tea). The vivid greenness of theyoung leaves of the forest, the tender tint of the springing corn, wascontrasted with the deep dark fringe of waving pines on the hills, andthe yet darker shade of the spruce and balsams on the borders of thecreeks, for so our Canadian forest rills are universally termed. Thebright glancing wings of the summer red-bird, the crimson-headedwoodpecker, the gay blue-bird, and noisy but splendid plumed jay mightbe seen among the branches; the air was filled with beauteous sightsand soft murmuring sounds. 

Under the shade of the luxuriant hop-vines that covered the rusticporch in front of the little dwelling, the light step of CatharineMaxwell might be heard mixed with the drowsy whirring of the bigwheel, as she passed to and fro guiding the thread of yarn in itscourse. And now she sang snatches of old mountain songs, such as shehad learned from her father; and now, with livelier air, hummed somegay French tune to the household melody of her spinning-wheel, as sheadvanced and retreated with her thread, unconscious of the laughingblack eyes that were watching her movements from among the emboweringfoliage that shielded her from the morning sun. 

"Come, ma belle cousine, " for so Louis delighted to call her. "Hectorand I are waiting for you to go with us to the 'Beaver Meadow. ' Thecattle have strayed, and we think we shall find them there. The day isdelicious, the very flowers look as if they wanted to be admired andplucked, and we shall find early strawberries on the old Indianclearing. "

Catharine cast a longing look abroad, but said, "I fear I cannot goto-day; for see, I have all these rolls of wool to spin up, and myyarn to wind off the reel and twist; and then, my mother is away. "

"Yes, I left her with mamma, " replied Louis, "and she said she wouldbe home shortly, so her absence need not stay you. She said you couldtake a basket and try and bring home some berries for sick Louise. Hector is sure he knows a spot where we shall get some fine ones, ripeand red. " As he spoke Louis whisked away the big wheel to one end ofthe porch, gathered up the hanks of yarn and tossed them into the openwicker basket, and the next minute the large, coarse, flapped strawhat, that hung upon the peg in the porch, was stuck not verygracefully on Catharine's head and tied beneath her chin, with a merryrattling laugh, which drowned effectually the small lecture thatCatharine began to utter by way of reproving the light-hearted boy. 

"But where is Mathilde?"

"Sitting like a dear good girl, as she is, with sick Louise's head inher lap, and would not disturb her for all the fruit and flowers inCanada. Marie cried sadly to go with us, but I promised her and Louiselots of flowers and berries if we get them, and the dear children wereas happy as queens when I left. "

"But stay, cousin, you are sure my mother gave her consent to mygoing? We shall be away chief part of the day. You know it is a longwalk to the Beaver Meadow and back again, " said Catharine, hesitatingas Louis took her hand to lead her out from the porch. 

"Yes, yes, ma belle, " said the giddy boy quickly; "so come along, forHector is waiting at the barn. But stay, we shall be hungry before wereturn, so let us have some cakes and butter, and do not forget a tincup for water. "

Nothing doubting, Catharine, with buoyant spirits, set about herlittle preparations, which were soon completed; but just as she wasleaving the little garden enclosure, she ran back to kiss Kenneth andDuncan, her young brothers. In the farm-yard she found Hector with hisaxe on his shoulder. "What are you taking the axe for, Hector? youwill find it heavy to carry, " said his sister. 

"In the first place, I have to cut a stick of blue beech to make abroom for sweeping the house, sister of mine, and that is for youruse, Miss Kate, and in the next place, I have to find, if possible, apiece of rock elm or hickory for axe handles: so now you have thereason why I take the axe with me. "

The children left the clearing and struck into one of the deep defilesthat lay between the hills, and cheerfully they laughed and sung andchattered, as they sped on their pleasant path, nor were they loath toexchange the glowing sunshine for the sober gloom of the forest shade. What handfuls of flowers of all hues, red, blue, yellow, and white, were gathered, only to be gazed at, carried for a while, then castaside for others fresher and fairer. And now they came to cool rillsthat flowed, softly murmuring, among mossy limestone, or blocks of redor gray granite, wending their way beneath twisted roots and fallentrees; and often Catharine lingered to watch the eddying dimples ofthe clear water, to note the tiny bright fragments of quartz orcrystallized limestone that formed a shining pavement below thestream. And often she paused to watch the angry movements of the redsquirrel, as, with feathery tail erect, and sharp scolding note, hecrossed their woodland path, and swiftly darting up the rugged bark ofsome neighbouring pine or hemlock, bade the intruders on his quiethaunts defiance; yet so bold in his indignation, he scarcelycondescended to ascend beyond their reach. The long-continued, hollowtapping of the large red-headed woodpecker, or the singularsubterranean sound caused by the drumming of the partridge strikinghis wings upon his breast to woo his gentle mate, and the softwhispering note of the little tree-creeper, as it flitted from onehemlock to another, collecting its food between the fissures of thebark, were among the few sounds that broke the noontide stillness ofthe woods; but to such sights and sounds the lively Catharine and hercousin were not indifferent. And often they wondered that Hectorgravely pursued his onward way, and seldom lingered as they did tomark the bright colours of the flowers, or the sparkling of the forestrill, or the hurrying to and fro of the turkeys among the luxuriantgrass. 

"What makes Hec so grave?" said Catharine to her companion, as theyseated themselves upon a mossy trunk to await his coming up; for theyhad giddily chased each other till they had far outrun him. 

"Hector, sweet coz, is thinking perhaps of how many bushels of corn orwheat this land would grow if cleared, or he may be examining the soilor the trees, or is looking for his stick of blue beech for yourbroom, or the hickory for his axe handles, and never heeding suchnonsense as woodpeckers, and squirrels, and lilies, and moss, andferns; for Hector is not a giddy thing like his cousin Louis, or--"

"His sister Kate, " interrupted Catharine merrily. "But when shall wecome to the Beaver Meadow?"

"Patience, ma belle, all in good time. Hark! was not that the ox-bell?No; Hector whistling. " And soon they heard the heavy stroke of his axeringing among the trees; for he had found the blue beech, and wascutting it to leave on the path, that he might take it home on theirreturn: he had also marked some hickory of a nice size for his axehandles, to bring home at some future time. 

The children had walked several miles, and were not sorry to sit downand rest till Hector joined them. 

He was well pleased with his success, and declared he felt no fatigue. "As soon as we reach the old Indian clearing, we shall findstrawberries, " he said, "and a fresh cold spring, and then we willhave our dinner. "

"Come, Hector, --come, Louis, " said Catharine, jumping up, "I long tobe gathering the strawberries; and see, my flowers are faded, so Iwill throw them away, and the basket shall be filled with fresh fruitinstead, and we must not forget petite Marie and sick Louise, or dearMathilde. Ah, how I wish she were here at this minute! But there isthe opening to the Beaver Meadow. "

And the sunlight was seen streaming through the opening trees as theyapproached the cleared space, which some called the "Indian clearing, "but is now more generally known as the little Beaver Meadow. It was apleasant spot, green, and surrounded with light bowery trees andflowering shrubs, of a different growth from those that belong to thedense forest. Here the children found, on the hilly ground above, fineripe strawberries, the earliest they had seen that year, and soon allweariness was forgotten while pursuing the delightful occupation ofgathering the tempting fruit; and when they had refreshed themselves, and filled the basket with leaves and fruit, they slaked their thirstat the stream which wound its way among the bushes. Catharineneglected not to reach down flowery bunches of the fragrantwhitethorn, and the high-bush cranberry, then radiant with noddingumbels of snowy blossoms, or to wreathe the handle of the littlebasket with the graceful trailing runners of the lovely twin-floweredplant, the Linnaea borealis, which she always said reminded her of thetwins Louise and Marie, her little cousins. And now the day began towear away, for they had lingered long in the little clearing; they hadwandered from the path by which they entered it, and had neglected, intheir eagerness to look for the strawberries, to notice any particularmark by which they might regain it. Just when they began to think ofreturning, Louis noticed a beaten path, where there seemed recentprints of cattle hoofs on a soft spongy soil beyond the creek. 

"Come, Hector, " said he gaily, "this is lucky; we are on thecattle-path; no fear but it will lead us directly home, and that by anearer track. "

Hector was undecided about following it; he fancied it bent too muchtowards the setting sun; but his cousin overruled his objection. "Andis not this our own creek?" he said. "I have often heard my father sayit had its rise somewhere about this old clearing. "

Hector now thought Louis might be right, and they boldly followed thepath among the poplars, thorns, and bushes that clothed its banks, surprised to see how open the ground became, and how swift and clearthe stream swept onward. 

"Oh, this dear creek, " cried the delighted Catharine, "how pretty itis! I shall often follow its course after this; no doubt it has itssource from our own Cold Springs. "

And so they cheerfully pursued their way, till the sun, sinking behindthe range of westerly hills, soon left them in gloom; but theyanxiously hurried forward when the stream wound its noisy way amongsteep stony banks, clothed scantily with pines and a few scatteredsilver-barked poplars. And now they became bewildered by two pathsleading in opposite directions; one upward among the rocky hills, theother through the opening gorge of a deep ravine. 

Here, overcome with fatigue, Catharine seated herself on a large blockof granite, near a great bushy pine that grew beside the path by theravine, unable to proceed; and Hector, with a grave and troubledcountenance, stood beside her, looking round with an air of greatperplexity. Louis, seating himself at Catharine's feet, surveyed thedeep gloomy valley before them, and sighed heavily. The convictionforcibly struck him that they had mistaken the path altogether. Thevery aspect of the country was different; the growth of the trees, theflow of the stream, all indicated a change of soil and scene. Darknesswas fast drawing its impenetrable veil around them; a few stars werestealing out, and gleaming down as if with pitying glance upon theyoung wanderers, but they could not light up their pathway or pointtheir homeward track. The only sounds, save the lulling murmur of therippling stream below, were the plaintive note of the whip-poor-will, from a gnarled oak that grew near them, and the harsh grating screamof the night hawk, darting about in the higher regions of the air, pursuing its noisy congeners, or swooping down with that peculiarhollow rushing sound, as of a person blowing into some empty vessel, when it seizes with wide-extended bill its insect prey. 

Hector was the first to break the silence. "Cousin Louis, we werewrong in following the course of the stream; I fear we shall neverfind our way back tonight. "

Louis made no reply; his sad and subdued air failed not to attract theattention of his cousins. 

"Why, Louis, how is this? you are not used to be cast down bydifficulties, " said Hector, as he marked something like tearsglistening in the dark eyes of his cousin. 

Louis's heart was full; he did not reply, but cast a troubled glanceupon the weary Catharine, who leaned heavily against the tree beneathwhich she sat. 

"It is not, " resumed Hector, "that I mind passing a summer's nightunder such a sky as this, and with such a dry grassy bed below me; butI do not think it is good for Catharine to sleep on the bare ground inthe night dews, --and then they will be so anxious at home about ourabsence. "

Louis burst into tears, and sobbed out, --"And it is all my doing thatshe came out with us; I deceived her, and my aunt will be angry andmuch alarmed, for she did not know of her going at all. DearCatharine, good cousin Hector, pray forgive me!"

But Catharine was weeping too much to reply to his passionateentreaties; and Hector, who never swerved from the truth, for which hehad almost a stern reverence, hardly repressed his indignation at whatappeared to him a most culpable act of deceit on the part of Louis. 

The sight of her cousin's grief and self-abasement touched the tenderheart of Catharine; for she was kind and dove-like in her disposition, and loved Louis, with all his faults. Had it not been for the painfulconsciousness of the grief their unusual absence would occasion athome, Catharine would have thought nothing of their present adventure;but she could not endure the idea of her high-principled father taxingher with deceiving her kind indulgent mother and him. It was thishumiliating thought which wounded the proud heart of Hector, causinghim to upbraid his cousin in somewhat harsh terms for his want oftruthfulness, and steeled him against the bitter grief that wrung theheart of the penitent Louis, who, leaning his wet cheek on theshoulder of Catharine, sobbed as if his heart would break, heedless ofher soothing words and affectionate endeavours to console him. 

"Dear Hector, " she said, turning her soft pleading eyes on the sternface of her brother, "you must not be so very angry with poor Louis. Remember it was to please me, and give me the enjoyment of a day ofliberty with you and himself in the woods, among the flowers and treesand birds, that he committed this fault. "

"Catharine, Louis told an untruth, and acted deceitfully. And look atthe consequences: we shall have forfeited our parents' confidence, andmay have some days of painful privation to endure before we regain ourhome, if we ever do find our way back to Cold Springs, " repliedHector. 

"It is the grief and anxiety our dear parents will endure this night, "answered Catharine, "that distresses my mind; but, " she added, in morecheerful tones, "let us not despair, no doubt to-morrow we shall beable to retrace our steps. "

With the young there is ever a magical spell in that little word_to-morrow_, --it is a point which they pursue as fast as it recedesfrom them; sad indeed is the young heart that does not look forwardwith hope to the future!

The cloud still hung on Hector's brow, till Catharine gaily exclaimed, "Come, Hector! come Louis! we must not stand idling thus; we mustthink of providing some shelter for the night: it is not good to restupon the bare ground exposed to the night dews. --See, here is a nicehut, half made, " pointing to a large upturned root which some fiercewhirlwind had hurled from the lofty bank into the gorge of the darkglen. 

"Now you must make haste, and lop off a few pine boughs, and stickthem into the ground, or even lean them against the roots of this oldoak, and there, you see, will be a capital house to shelter us. Towork, to work, you idle boys, or poor wee Katty must turn squaw andbuild her own wigwam, " she playfully added, taking up the axe whichrested against the feathery pine beneath which Hector was leaning. Now, Catharine cared as little as her brother and cousin about passinga warm summer's night under the shade of the forest trees, for she wasboth hardy and healthy; but her woman's heart taught her that thesurest means of reconciling the cousins would be by mutuallyinteresting them in the same object, --and she was right. Inendeavouring to provide for the comfort of their dear companion, allangry feelings were forgotten by Hector, while active employmentchased away Louis's melancholy. 

Unlike the tall, straight, naked trunks of the pines of the forest, those of the plains are adorned with branches often to the veryground, varying in form and height, and often presenting mostpicturesque groups, or rising singly among scattered groves of thesilver-barked poplar or graceful birch trees; the dark mossy greennessof the stately pine contrasting finely with the light waving foliageof its slender, graceful companions. 

Hector, with his axe, soon lopped boughs from one of the adjacentpines, which Louis sharpened with his knife and, with Catharine'sassistance, drove into the ground, arranging them in such a way as tomake the upturned oak, with its roots and the earth which adhered tothem, form the back part of the hut, which when completed formed by nomeans a contemptible shelter. Catharine then cut fern and deer grasswith Louis's _couteau de chasse_, which he always carried in a sheathat his girdle, and spread two beds, --one, parted off by dry boughs andbark, for herself, in the interior of the wigwam; and one for herbrother and cousin, nearer the entrance. When all was finished to hersatisfaction she called the two boys, and, according to the custom ofher parents, joined them in the lifting up of their hands as anevening sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Nor were thesesimple-hearted children backward in imploring help and protection fromthe Most High. They earnestly prayed that no dangerous creature mightcome near to molest them during the hours of darkness andhelplessness, no evil spirit visit them, no unholy or wicked thoughtsintrude into their minds; but that holy angels and heavenly thoughtsmight hover over them, and fill their hearts with the peace of Godwhich passeth all understanding. And the prayer of the poor wandererswas heard; they slept in peace, unharmed, in the vast solitude. Sopassed their first night on the Plains. 

CHAPTER II

"Fear not: ye are of more value than many sparrows. "--_St. Luke_. 

The sun had risen in all the splendour of a Canadian summer morningwhen the sleepers arose from their leafy beds. In spite of the noveltyof their situation, they had slept as soundly and tranquilly as ifthey had been under the protecting care of their beloved parents, ontheir little palliasses of corn straw; but they had been cared for byHim who neither slumbereth nor sleepeth, and they waked full ofyouthful hope, and in fulness of faith in His mercy into whose handsthey had commended their souls and bodies before they retired to rest. 

While the children slept in peace and safety, what terrors had filledthe minds of their distracted parents! what a night of anguish andsorrow had they passed!

When night had closed in without bringing back the absent children, the two fathers, lighting torches of fat pine, went forth in search ofthe wanderers. How often did they raise their voices in hopes theirloud halloos might reach the hearing of the lost ones! How often didthey check their hurried steps to listen for some replying call! Butthe sighing breeze in the pine tops, or sudden rustling of the leavescaused by the flight of the birds startled by the unusual glare of thetorches, and the echoes of their own voices, were the only sounds thatmet their anxious ears. At daybreak they returned, sad and dispirited, to their homes, to snatch a morsel of food, endeavour to cheer thedrooping hearts of the weeping mothers, and hurry off, takingdifferent directions. But, unfortunately, they had little clue to theroute which Hector and Louis had taken, there being many cattle-pathsthrough the woods. Louis's want of truthfulness had caused thisuncertainty, as he had left no intimation of the path he purposedtaking when he quitted his mother's house. He had merely said he wasgoing with Hector in search of the cattle, giving no hint of hisintention of asking Catharine to accompany them; he had but told hissick sister that he would bring home strawberries and flowers, andthat he would soon return. Alas! poor, thoughtless Louis! how littledid you think of the web of woe you were then weaving for yourself, and all those to whom you and your companions were so dear! Children, think twice ere ye deceive once. 

Catharine's absence would have been quite unaccountable but for thetestimony of Duncan and Kenneth, who had received her sisterlycaresses before she joined Hector at the barn; and much her mothermarvelled what could have induced her good, dutiful Catharine to haveleft her work and forsaken her household duties to go rambling awaywith the boys, for she never left the house when her mother was absentfrom it without her express permission. And now she was gone, --lost tothem perhaps for ever. There stood the wheel she had been turning;there hung the untwisted hanks of yarn, her morning task; and therethey remained week after week, and month after month, untouched, --amelancholy memorial to the hearts of the bereaved parents of theirbeloved. 

It were indeed a fruitless task to follow the agonized fathers intheir vain search for their children, or to paint the bitter anguishthat filled their hearts as day passed after day, and still no tidingsof the lost ones. As hope faded, a deep and settled gloom stole overthe sorrowing parents, and reigned throughout the once cheerful andgladsome homes. At the end of a week the only idea that remained was, that one of these three casualties had befallen the lostchildren, --death, a lingering death by famine; death, cruel andhorrible, by wolves or bears; or, yet more terrible, with tortures bythe hands of the dreaded Indians, who occasionally held their councilsand hunting-parties on the hills about the Rice Lake, which was knownonly by the elder Perron as the scene of many bloody encountersbetween the rival tribes of the Mohawks and Chippewas. Its localitieswere scarcely ever visited by the settlers, lest haply they shouldfall into the hands of the bloody Mohawks, whose merciless dispositionmade them in those days a by-word even to the less cruel Chippewas andother Indian nations. 

It was not in the direction of the Rice Lake that Maxwell and hisbrother-in-law sought their lost children; and even if they had doneso, among the deep glens and hill passes of what is now commonlycalled the Plains, they would have stood little chance of discoveringthe poor wanderers. After many days of fatigue of body and distress ofmind, the sorrowing parents sadly relinquished the search as utterlyhopeless, and mourned in bitterness of spirit over the disastrous fateof their first-born and beloved children. "There was a voice of woe, and lamentation, and great mourning; Rachel weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they were not. "

The miserable uncertainty that involved the fate of the lost ones wasan aggravation to the sufferings of the mourners. Could they but havebeen certified of the manner of their deaths, they fancied they shouldbe more contented; but, alas! this fearful satisfaction was withheld

 "Oh, were their tale of sorrow known, 'Twere something to the breaking heart; The pangs of doubt would then be gone, And fancy's endless dreams depart. "

But let us quit the now mournful settlement of Cold Springs, and seehow it really fared with the young wanderers. 

When they awoke, the valley was filled with a white creamy mist, thatarose from the bed of the stream (now known as Cold Creek), and gavean indistinctness to the whole landscape, investing it with anappearance perfectly different to that which it had worn by thebright, clear light of the moon. No trace of their footsteps remainedto guide them in retracing their path, so hard and dry was the stonyground that it left no impression on its surface. It was with somedifficulty they found the creek, which was concealed from sight by alofty screen of gigantic hawthorns, high-bush cranberries, poplars, and birch trees. The hawthorn was in blossom, and gave out a sweetperfume, not less fragrant than the "May, " which makes the lanes andhedgerows of "merrie old England" so sweet and fair in May and June. 

At length their path began to grow more difficult. A tangled mass ofcedars, balsams, birch, black ash, alders, and _tamarack_ (Indianname for the larch), with a dense thicket of bushes and shrubs, suchas love the cool, damp soil of marshy ground, warned our travellersthat they must quit the banks of the friendly stream, or they mightbecome entangled in a trackless swamp. Having taken copious andrefreshing draughts from the bright waters, and bathed their hands andfaces, they ascended the grassy bank, and, again descending, foundthemselves in one of those long valleys, enclosed between loftysloping banks, clothed with shrubs and oaks, with here and there astately pine. Through this second valley they pursued their way, till, emerging into a wider space, they came among those singularlypicturesque groups of rounded gravel-hills, where the Cold Creek oncemore met their view, winding its way towards a grove of evergreens, where it was again lost to the eye. 

This lovely spot was known as Sackville's Mill-dike. The hand of manhad curbed the free course of the wild forest stream, and made itsubservient to his will, but could not destroy the natural beauties ofthe scene. 

Fearing to entangle themselves in the swamp, they kept the hillyground, winding their way up to the summit of the lofty ridge of theoak hills, the highest ground they had yet attained; and here it wasthat the silver waters of the Rice Lake in all its beauty burst uponthe eyes of the wondering and delighted travellers. There it lay, asheet of liquid silver, just emerging from the blue veil of mist thathung upon its surface and concealed its wooded shores on either side. All feeling of dread, and doubt, and danger was lost for the time inone rapturous glow of admiration at the scene so unexpected and sobeautiful as that which they now gazed upon from the elevation theyhad gained. From this ridge they looked down the lake, and the eyecould take in an extent of many miles, with its verdant woodedislands, which stole into view one by one as the rays of the morningsun drew up the moving curtain of mist that enveloped them; and soonboth northern and southern shores became distinctly visible, with alltheir bays, and capes, and swelling oak and pine crowned hills. 

And now arose the question, "Where are we? What lake is this? Can itbe the Ontario, or is it the Rice Lake? Can yonder shores be those ofthe Americans, or are they the hunting-grounds of the dreadedIndians?" Hector remembered having often heard his father say that theOntario was like an inland sea, and the opposite shores not visibleunless in some remarkable state of the atmosphere, when they had beenoccasionally discerned by the naked eye; while here they coulddistinctly see objects on the other side, the peculiar growth of thetrees, and even flights of wild fowl winging their way among the riceand low bushes on its margin. The breadth of the lake from shore toshore could not, they thought, exceed three or four miles; while itslength, in an easterly direction, seemed far greater, --beyond whatthe eye could take in. [Footnote: The length of the Rice Lake, fromits head-waters near Black's Landing to the mouth of the Trent, issaid to be twenty-five miles; its breadth, from north to south, variesfrom three to six. ]

They now quitted the lofty ridge, and bent their steps towards thelake. Wearied with their walk, they seated themselves beneath theshade of a beautiful feathery pine, on a high promontory thatcommanded a magnificent view down the lake. 

"How pleasant it would be to have a house on this delightful bank, overlooking the lake!" said Louis. "Only think of the fish we couldtake, and the ducks and wild fowl we could shoot; and it would be novery hard matter to hollow out a log canoe, such a one as I have heardmy father say he has rowed in across many a lake and broad riverbelow, when he was lumbering. "

"Yes, it would, indeed, be a pleasant spot to live upon, " said Hector, "though I am not quite sure that the land is as good just here as itis at Cold Springs; but all those flats and rich valleys would makefine pastures, and produce plenty of grain, too, if cultivated. "

"You always look to the main chance, Hec, " said Louis, laughing;"well, it was worth a few hours' walking this morning to look upon solovely a sheet of water as this. I would spend two nights in awigwam, --would not you, ma belle?--to enjoy such a sight. "

"Yes, Louis, " replied his cousin, hesitating as she spoke; "it is verypretty, and I did not mind sleeping in the little hut; but then Icannot enjoy myself as much as I should have done had my father andmother been aware of my intention of accompanying you. Ah, my dear, dear parents!" she added, as the thought of the anguish the absence ofher companions and herself would cause at home came over her. "How Iwish I had remained at home! Selfish Catharine! foolish, idle girl!"

Poor Louis was overwhelmed with grief at the sight of his cousin'stears; and as the kind-hearted but thoughtless boy bent over her tosoothe and console her, his own tears fell upon the fair locks of theweeping girl, and dropped on the hand he held between his own. 

"If you cry thus, cousin, " he whispered, "you will break poor Louis'sheart, already sore enough with thinking of his foolish conduct. "

"Be not cast down, Catharine, " said her brother cheeringly; "we maynot be so far from home as you think. As soon as you are rested, wewill set out again, and we may find something to eat; there must bestrawberries on these sunny banks. "

Catharine soon yielded to the voice of her brother, and drying hereyes, proceeded to descend the sides of the steep valley that lay toone side of the high ground where they had been sitting. 

Suddenly darting down the bank, she exclaimed, "Come, Hector! come, Louis! here indeed is provision to keep us from starving;" for her eyehad caught the bright red strawberries among the flowers and herbageon the slope--large ripe strawberries, the very finest she had everseen. 

"There is, indeed, ma belle, " said Louis, stooping as he spoke togather up, not the fruit, but a dozen fresh partridge's eggs from theinner shade of a thick tuft of grass and herbs that grew beside afallen tree. Catharine's voice and sudden movements had startled theruffed grouse [Footnote: The Canadian partridge is a species ofgrouse, larger than the English or French partridge. We refer ouryoung readers to the finely arranged specimens in the British Museum(open to the public), where they may discover "Louis's partridge. "]from her nest, and the eggs were soon transferred to Louis's strawhat, while a stone flung by the steady hand of Hector stunned theparent bird. The boys laughed exultingly as they displayed theirprizes to the astonished Catharine, who, in spite of hunger, could nothelp regretting the death of the mother bird. Girls and women rarelysympathize with men and boys in their field sports, and Hector laughedat his sister's doleful looks as he handed over the bird to her. 

"It was a lucky chance, " said he, "and the stone was well aimed, butit is not the first partridge that I have killed in this way. They areso stupid you may even run them down at times; I hope to get anotherbefore the day is over. 

"Well, there is no fear of starving to-day, at all events, " he added, as he inspected the contents of his cousin's hat; "twelve nice fresheggs, a bird, and plenty of fruit. "

"But how shall we cook the bird and the eggs? We have no means ofgetting a fire made, " said Catharine. 

"As to the eggs, " said Louis, "we can eat them raw; it is not forhungry wanderers like us to be over-nice about our food. "

"They would satisfy us much better were they boiled, or roasted in theashes, " observed Hector. 

"True. Well, a fire, I think, can be got with a little trouble. "

"But how?" asked Hector. 

"Oh, there are many ways, but the readiest would be a flint with thehelp of my knife. "

"A flint?"

"Yes, if we could get one: but I see nothing but granite, whichcrumbles and shivers when struck--we could not get a spark. However, Ithink it's very likely that one of the round pebbles I see on thebeach yonder may be found hard enough for the purpose. "

To the shore they bent their steps as soon as the little basket hadbeen well filled with strawberries; and descending the precipitousbank, fringed with young saplings; birch, ash, and poplars, theyquickly found themselves beside the bright waters of the lake. A flintwas soon found among the water-worn stones that lay thickly strewnupon the shore, and a handful of dry sedge, almost as inflammable astinder, was collected without trouble: though Louis, with therecklessness of his nature, had coolly proposed to tear a strip fromhis cousin's apron as a substitute for tinder, --a proposal thatsomewhat raised the indignation of the tidy Catharine, whose ideas ofeconomy and neatness were greatly outraged, especially as she had nosewing implements to assist in mending the rent. Louis thought nothingof that; it was a part of his character to think only of the present, little of the past, and to let the future provide for itself. Such wasLouis's great failing, which had proved a fruitful source of troubleboth to himself and others. In this respect he bore a strikingcontrast to his more cautious companion, who possessed much of thegravity of his father. Hector was as heedful and steady in hisdecisions as Louis was rash and impetuous. 

After many futile attempts, and some skin knocked off their knucklesthrough awkward handling of the knife and flint, a good fire was atlast kindled, as there was no lack of dry wood on the shore. Catharinethen triumphantly produced her tin pot, and the eggs were boiled, greatly to the satisfaction of all parties, who were by this timesufficiently hungry, having eaten nothing since the previous eveningmore substantial than the strawberries they had taken during the timethey were gathering them in the morning. 

Catharine had selected a pretty, cool, shady recess, a natural bower, under the overhanging growth of [Illustration: THE FIRST BREAKFAST. ]cedars, poplars, and birch, which were wreathed together by theflexible branches of the wild grape vine and bitter-sweet, whichclimbed to a height of fifteen feet [Footnote: _Celastrusscandens_, --bitter-sweet or woody nightshade. This plant, like thered-berried bryony of England, is highly ornamental. It possessespowerful properties as a medicine, and is in high reputation among theIndians. ] among the branches of the trees, which it covered as with amantle. A pure spring of cold, delicious water welled out from beneaththe twisted roots of an old hoary-barked cedar, and found its wayamong the shingle on the beach to the lake, a humble but constanttributary to its waters. Some large blocks of water-worn stone formedconvenient seats and a natural table, on which the little maidenarranged the forest fare; and never was a meal made with greaterappetite or taken with more thankfulness than that which our wanderersate that morning. The eggs (part of which they reserved for anothertime) were declared to be better than those that were daily producedfrom the little hen-house at Cold Springs. The strawberries, set outin little pottles made with the shining leaves of the oak, ingeniouslypinned together by Catharine with the long spurs of the hawthorn, werevoted delicious, and the pure water most refreshing, that they drank, for lack of better cups, from a large mussel-shell which Catharine hadpicked up among the weeds and pebbles on the beach. 

Many children would have wandered about weeping and disconsolate, lamenting their sad fate, or have imbittered the time by uselessrepining, or, perhaps, by venting their uneasiness in reviling theprincipal author of their calamity--poor, thoughtless Louis; but suchwere not the dispositions of our young Canadians. Early accustomed tothe hardships incidental to the lives of the settlers in the bush, these young people had learned to bear with patience and cheerfulnessprivations that would have crushed the spirits of children moredelicately nurtured. They had known every degree of hunger andnakedness: during the first few years of their lives they had oftenbeen compelled to subsist for days and weeks upon roots and herbs, wild fruits, and game which their fathers had learned to entrap, todecoy, and to shoot. Thus Louis and Hector had early been initiatedinto the mysteries of the chase. They could make dead-falls, and pits, and traps, and snares; they were as expert as Indians in the use ofthe bow; they could pitch a stone or fling a wooden dart at partridge, hare, and squirrel with almost unerring aim; and were as swift of footas young fawns. Now it was that they learned to value in its fullestextent this useful and practical knowledge, which enabled them to facewith fortitude the privations of a life so precarious as that to whichthey were now exposed. 

It was one of the elder Maxwell's maxims, --Never, let difficultiesovercome you, but rather strive to conquer them; let the head directthe hand, and the hand, like a well-disciplined soldier, obey the headas chief. When his children expressed any doubts of not being able toaccomplish any work they had begun, he would say, "Have you not hands, have you not a head, have you not eyes to see, and reason to guideyou? As for impossibilities, they do not belong to the trade of asoldier, --he dare not see them. " Thus were energy and perseveranceearly instilled into the, minds of his children. They were now calledupon to give practical proofs of the precepts that had been taughtthem in childhood. Hector trusted to his axe, and Louis to his_couteau de chasse_ and pocket-knife, --the latter was a present froman old forest friend of his father's, who had visited them theprevious winter, and which, by good luck, Louis had in his pocket, --acapacious pouch, in which were stored many precious things, such ascoils of twine and string, strips of leather, with odds and ends ofvarious kinds--nails, bits of iron, leather, and such miscellaneousarticles as find their way most mysteriously into boys' pockets ingeneral, and Louis Perron's in particular, who was a wonderfulcollector of such small matters. 

The children were not easily daunted by the prospect of passing a fewdays abroad on so charming a spot, and at such a lovely season, wherefruits were so abundant; and when they had finished their morningmeal, so providentially placed within their reach, they gratefullyacknowledged the mercy of God in this thing. 

Having refreshed themselves by bathing their hands and faces in thelake, they cheerfully renewed their wanderings, though something loathto leave the cool shade and the spring for an untrodden path among thehills and deep ravines that furrow the shores of the Rice Lake in soremarkable a manner; and often did our weary wanderers pause to lookupon the wild glens and precipitous hills, where the fawn and the shydeer found safe retreats, unharmed by the rifle of the hunter, wherethe osprey and white-headed eagle built their nests, unheeded andunharmed. Twice that day, misled by following the track of the deer, had they returned to the samespot, --a deep and lovely glen, which hadonce been a watercourse, but was now a green and shady valley. Thisthey named the Valley of the Rock, from a remarkable block of redgranite that occupied a central position in the narrow defile; andhere they prepared to pass their second night on the Plains. A fewboughs cut down and interlaced with the shrubs round a small spacecleared with Hector's axe, formed shelter, and leaves and grass, strewed on the ground, formed a bed--though not so smooth, perhaps, asthe bark and cedar boughs that the Indians spread within their summerwigwams for carpets and couches, or the fresh heather that theHighlanders gather on the wild Scottish hills. 

While Hector and Louis were preparing the sleeping chamber, Catharinebusied herself in preparing the partridge for their supper. Havingcollected some thin peelings from the rugged bark of a birch tree thatgrew on the side of the steep bank to which she gave the appropriatename of the "Birken Shaw, " she dried it in her bosom, and then beat itfine upon a big stone, till it resembled the finest white paper. Thisproved excellent tinder, the aromatic oil contained in the bark of thebirch being highly inflammable. Hector had prudently retained theflint that they had used in the morning, and a fire was now lighted infront of the rocky stone, and a forked stick, stuck in the ground, andbent over the coals, served as a spit, on which, gipsy-fashion, thepartridge was suspended, --a scanty meal, but thankfully partaken of, though they knew not how they should breakfast next morning. Thechildren felt they were pensioners on God's providence not less thanthe wild denizens of the wilderness around them. 

When Hector--who by nature was less sanguine than his sister orcousin--expressed some anxiety for their provisions for the morrow, Catharine, who had early listened with trusting piety of heart to theteaching of her father, when he read portions from the holy Word ofGod, gently laid her hand upon her brother's head, which rested on herknees, as he sat upon the grass beside her, and said, in a low andearnest tone, "'Consider the fowls of the air: they sow not, neitherdo they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeththem. Are ye not much better than they?' Surely, my brother, Godcareth for us as much as for the wild creatures that have no sense topraise and glorify his holy name. God cares for the creatures he hasmade, and supplies them with knowledge where they shall find food whenthey hunger and thirst. So I have heard my father say; and surely ourfather knows, for is he not a wise man, Hector?"

"I remember, " said Louis thoughtfully, "hearing my mother repeat thewords of a good old man she knew when she lived in Quebec. 'When youare in trouble, Mathilde, ' he used to say to her, 'kneel down and askGod's help, nothing doubting but that he has the power as well as thewill to serve you, if it be for your good; for he is able to bring allthings to pass. It is our own want of faith that prevents our prayersfrom being heard. ' And, truly, I think the wise old man was right, " headded. 

It was strange to hear grave words like these from the lips of thegiddy Louis. Possibly they had the greater weight on that account. AndHector, looking up with a serious air, replied, "Your mother's friendwas a good man, Louis. Our want of trust in God's power must displeasehim. And when we think of all the great and glorious things he hasmade, --that blue sky, those sparkling stars, the beautiful moon thatis now shining down upon us, and the hills and waters, the mightyforest, and little creeping plants and flowers that grow at ourfeet, --it must, indeed, seem foolish in his eyes that we should doubthis power to help us, who not only made all these things but ourselvesalso. "

"True, " said Catharine; "but then, Hector, we are not as God made us;for the wicked one cast bad seed in the field where God had sown thegood. "

"Let us, however, consider what we shall do for food; for you know Godhelps those that help themselves, " said Louis. "Let us consider alittle. There must be plenty of fish in the lake, both small andgreat. "

"But how are we to get them out of it?" rejoined Catharine. "I doubtthe fish will swim at their ease there, while we go hungry. "

"Do not interrupt me, ma chere. Then, we see the track of deer, andthe holes of the wood-chuck; we hear the cry of squirrels andchitmunks, and there are plenty of partridges, and ducks, and quails, and snipes;--of course, we have to contrive some way to kill them. Fruits there are in abundance, and plenty of nuts of different kinds. At present we have plenty of fine strawberries, and huckleberries willbe ripe soon in profusion, and bilberries too, and you know howpleasant they are; as for raspberries, I see none; but by-and-by therewill be May-apples (_Podophyllum peltatum_)--I see great quantitiesof them in the low grounds; grapes, high-bush cranberries, haws aslarge as cherries, and sweet too, squaw-berries, wild-plums, choke-cherries, and bird-cherries. As to sweet acorns, there will bebushels and bushels of them for the roasting, as good as chestnuts, tomy taste, and butter-nuts, and hickory-nuts with many other goodthings. " And here Louis stopped for want of breath to continue hiscatalogue of forest dainties. 

"Yes, and there are bears, and wolves, and raccoons too, that will eatus for want of better food, " interrupted Hector slyly. "Nay, Katty, donot shudder, as if you were already in the clutches of a big bear. Neither bear nor wolf shall make mincemeat of thee, my girl, whileLouis and thy brother are near to wield an axe or a knife in thydefence. "

"Nor catamount spring upon thee, ma belle cousine, " added Louisgallantly, "while thy bold cousin Louis can scare him away. "

"Well, now that we know our resources, the next thing is to considerhow we are to obtain them, my dears, " said Catharine. "For fishing, you know, we must have a hook and line, a rod, or a net. Now, whereare these to be met with?"

Louis nodded his head sagaciously. "The line I think I can provide;the hook is more difficult, but I do not despair even of that. As tothe rod, it can be cut from any slender sapling on the shore. A net, ma chere, I could make with very little trouble, if I had but a pieceof cloth to sew over a hoop. "

Catharine laughed. "You are very ingenious, no doubt, Monsieur Louis;but where are you to get the cloth and the hoop, and the means ofsewing it on?"

Louis took up the corner of his cousin's apron with a provoking look. 

"My apron, sir, is not to be appropriated for any such purpose. Youseem to covet it for everything. "

"Indeed, ma petite, I think it very unbecoming and very ugly, andnever could see any good reason why you, and mamma, and Mathildeshould wear such frightful things. "

"It is to keep our gowns clean, Louis, when we are milking, andscrubbing, and doing all sorts of household duties, " said Catharine. 

"Well, ma belle, you have neither cows to milk nor house to clean, "replied the annoying boy; "so there can be little want of the apron. Icould turn it to fifty useful purposes. "

"Pooh, nonsense, " said Hector impatiently; "let the child alone, anddo not tease her about her apron. "

"Well, then, there is another good thing I did not think ofbefore--water mussels. I have heard my father and old Jacob thelumberer say that, roasted in their shells in the ashes, with aseasoning of salt and pepper, they are good eating when nothing betteris to be got. "

"No doubt, if the seasoning can be procured, " said Hector; "but, alasfor the salt and the pepper!"

"Well, we can eat them with the best of all sauces--hunger. And then, no doubt, there are crayfish in the gravel under the stones; but wemust not mind a pinch to our fingers in taking them. "

"To-morrow, then, let us breakfast on fish, " said Hector. "You and Iwill try our luck, while Kate gathers strawberries; and if our lineshould break, we can easily cut those long locks from Catharine's headand twist them into lines. " And Hector laid his hands upon the longfair hair that hung in shining curls about his sister's neck. 

"Cut my curls! This is even worse than cousin Louis's proposal ofmaking tinder and fishing-nets of my apron, " said Catharine, shakingback the bright tresses which, escaping from the snood that boundthem, fell in golden waves over her shoulders. 

"In truth, Hec, it were a sin and a shame to cut her pretty curls, that become her so well, " said Louis. "But we have no scissors, mabelle, so you need fear no injury to your precious locks. "

"For the matter of that, Louis, we could cut them with your _couteaude chaise_. I could tell you a story that my father told me, not longsince, of Charles Stuart, the second king of that name in England. Youknow he was the granduncle of the young chevalier, Charles Edward, that my father talks of, and loves so much. "

"I know all about him, " said Catharine, nodding sagaciously; "let ushear the story of his granduncle. But I should like to know what myhair and Louis's knife can have to do with King Charles. "

"Wait a bit, Kate, and you shall hear--that is, if you have patience, "said her brother. "Well then, you must know, that after some greatbattle, the name of which I forget, [Footnote: Battle of Worcester] inwhich the king and his handful of brave soldiers were defeated by theforces of the Parliament (the Roundheads, as they were called), thepoor young king was hunted like a partridge upon the mountains, alarge price was set on his head, to be given to any traitor who shouldslay him or bring him prisoner to Oliver Cromwell. " He was obliged todress himself in all sorts of queer clothes, and hide in all manner ofstrange, out-of-the-way places, and keep company with rude and humblemen, the better to hide his real rank from the cruel enemies thatsought his life. Once he hid along with a gallant gentleman, [Footnote: Colonel Careless. ] one of his own brave officers, in thebranches of a great oak. Once he was hid in a mill; and another timehe was in the house of one Pendril, a woodman. The soldiers of theParliament, who were always prowling about, and popping in unawareswherever they suspected the poor king to be hidden, were at one timein the very room where he was standing beside the fire. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Catharine, "that was frightful. And did they take himprisoner?"

"No; for the wise woodman and his brothers, fearing lest the soldiersshould discover that he was a cavalier and a gentleman, by the longcurls that the king's men all wore in those days, and called_lovelocks_, begged of his majesty to let his hair be cropped close tohis head. "

"That was very hard, to lose his nice curls. "

"I dare say the young king thought so too; but it was better to losehis hair than his head. So, I suppose, the men told him; for hesuffered them to cut it all close to his head, laying down his head ona rough deal table, or a chopping-block, while his faithful friendswith a large knife trimmed off the curls. "

"I wonder if the young king thought at that minute of his poor father, who, you know, was forced by wicked men to lay down his head upon ablock to have it cut from his shoulders, because Cromwell, and othersas hard-hearted as himself, willed that he should die. "

"Poor king!" said Catharine, sighing; "I see that it is better to bepoor children, wandering on these plains under God's own care, than tobe kings and princes at the mercy of bad and sinful men. "

"Who told your father all these things, Hec?" said Louis. 

"It was the son of his brave colonel, who knew a great deal about thehistory of the Stuart kings, for our colonel had been with PrinceCharles, the young chevalier, and fought by his side when he was inScotland. He loved him dearly, and after the battle of Culloden, wherethe prince lost all, and was driven from place to place, and had notwhere to lay his head, he went abroad in hopes of better times. Butthose times did not come for the poor prince; and our colonel, after awhile, through the friendship of General Wolfe, got a commission inthe army that was embarking for Quebec, and at last commanded theregiment to which my father belonged. He was a kind man, and my fatherloved both him and his son, and grieved not a little when he partedfrom him. "

"Well, " said-Catharine, "as you have told me such a nice story, MisterHec, I shall forgive the affront about my curls. "

"Well, then, to-morrow we are to try our luck at fishing, and if wefail, we will make us bows and arrows to kill deer or small game; Ifancy we shall not be over-particular as to its quality. Why shouldnot we be able to find subsistence as well as the wild Indians?"

"True, " said Hector; "the wild men of the wilderness, and the animalsand birds, all are fed by the things that He provideth; then whereforeshould His white children fear?"

"I have often heard my father tell of the privations of the lumberers, when they have fallen short of provisions, and of the contrivances ofhimself and old Jacob Morelle when they were lost for several days, nay, weeks I believe it was. Like the Indians, they made themselvesbows and arrows, using the sinews of the deer, or fresh thongs ofleather, for bow-strings; and when they could not get game to eat, they boiled the inner bark of the slippery elm to jelly, or birchbark, and drank the sap of the sugar maple when they could get nowater but melted snow only, which is unwholesome: at last they evenboiled their own moccasins. "

"Indeed, Louis, that must have been a very unsavoury dish, " saidCatharine. 

"That old buck-skin vest would have made a famous pot of soup ofitself, " added Hector, "or the deer-skin hunting shirt. "

"They might have been reduced even to that, " said Louis, laughing, "but for the good fortune that befell them in the way of ahalf-roasted bear. "

"Nonsense, Cousin Louis; bears do not run about ready roasted in theforest, like the lambs in the old nursery tale. "

"Kate, this was a fact; at least it was told as one by old Jacob, andmy father did not deny it. Shall I tell you about it? After passingseveral hungry days, with no better food to keep them alive than thescrapings of the inner bark of the poplars and elms, which was notvery substantial for hearty men, they encamped one night in a thickdark swamp, --not the sort of place they would have chosen, but theycould not help themselves, having been enticed into it by the tracksof a deer or a moose, --and night came upon them unawares, so they setto work to kindle a fire with spunk, and a flint and knife; rifle theyhad none, or maybe they would have had game to eat. 

"Old Jacob fixed upon a huge hollow pine that lay across their path, against which he soon piled a glorious heap of boughs and arms oftrees, and whatever wood he could collect, and lighted up a fine fire. The wood was dry pine and cedar and birch, and it blazed away, andcrackled and burned like a pine-torch. By-and-by they heard a mostawful growling close to them. 'That's a big bear, as I live, ' said oldJacob, looking all about, thinking to see one come out from the thickbush. But Bruin was nearer to him than he thought; for presently agreat black bear burst out from the butt-end of the great burning log, and made towards Jacob. Just then the wind blew the flame outward, andit caught the bear's thick coat, and he was all in a blaze in amoment. No doubt the heat of the fire had penetrated to the hollow ofthe log, where he had lain himself snugly up for the winter, andwakened him. Jacob seeing the huge black brute all in a flame of fire, roared with fright; the bear roared with pain and rage; and my fatherroared with laughing to see Jacob's terror. But he did not let thebear laugh at him, for he seized a thick pole that he had used forclosing in the brands and logs, and soon demolished the bear, who wasso blinded with the fire and smoke that he made no fight; and theyfeasted on roast bear's flesh for many days, and got a capital skin tocover them beside. "

"What, Louis! after the fur was all singed?" said Catharine. 

"Kate, you are too particular, " said Louis; "a story never loses, youknow. "

Hector laughed heartily at the adventure, and enjoyed the dilemma ofthe bear in his winter quarters; but Catharine was somewhat shocked atthe levity displayed by her cousin and brother when recounting theterror of old Jacob and the sufferings of the poor bear. "

"You boys are always so unfeeling, " she said gravely. 

"Indeed, Kate, " said her brother, "the day may come when the sight ofa good piece of roast bear's flesh will be no unwelcome sight. If wedo not find our way back to Cold Springs before the winter sets in, wemay be reduced to as bad a state as poor Jacob and my uncle were inthe pine swamps on the banks of the St. John. "

"Ah!" said Catharine, trembling, "that would be too bad to happen. "

"Courage, ma belle; let us not despair for the morrow. Let us see whattomorrow will do for us; meantime, we will not neglect the blessingswe still possess. See, our partridge is ready; let us eat our supper, and be thankful; and for grace let us say, 'Sufficient unto the day isthe evil thereof. '"

Long exposure to the air had sharpened their appetites. The hungrywanderers needed no further invitation. The scanty meal, equallydivided, was soon despatched. 

It is a common saying, but excellent to be remembered by any wanderersin our forest wilds, that those who travel by the sun travel in acircle, and usually find themselves at night in the same place fromwhence they started in the morning; so it was with our wanderers. Atsunset they found themselves once more in the ravine, beside the bigstone, in which they had rested at noon. They had imagined themselvesmiles distant from it: they were grievously disappointed. They hadencouraged each other with the confident hope that they were drawingnear to the end of their bewildering journey: they were as far fromtheir home as ever, without the slightest clue to guide them to theright path. Despair is not a feeling which takes deep root in theyouthful breast. The young are always hopeful; so confident in theirown wisdom and skill in averting or conquering danger; so trusting; sowilling to believe that there is a peculiar Providence watching overthem. Poor children! they had indeed need of such a belief tostrengthen their minds and encourage them to fresh exertions, for newtrials were at hand. 

The broad moon had already flooded the recesses of the glen withlight, and all looked fresh and lovely in the dew which glittered ontree and leaf, on herb and flower. Catharine, who, though weary withher fatiguing wanderings, could not sleep, left the little hut ofboughs her companions had put up near the granite rock in the valleyfor her accommodation, and ascended the western bank, where the lastjutting spur of its steep side formed a lofty cliff-like promontory, at the extreme verge of which the roots of one tall spreading oakformed a most inviting seat, from whence the traveller looked downinto a level tract, which stretched away to the edge of the lake. 

This flat had been the estuary of the mountain stream which had oncerushed down between the hills, forming a narrow gorge; but now all waschanged: the waters had ceased to flow, the granite bed was overgrownand carpeted with deer-grass and flowers of many hues, wild fruits andbushes, below, while majestic oaks and pines towered above. A sea ofglittering foliage lay beneath Catharine's feet; in the distance theeye of the young girl rested on a belt of shining waters, which girtin the shores like a silver zone; beyond, yet more remote to thenorthward, stretched the illimitable forest. 

Never had Catharine looked upon a scene so still or so fair to theeye; a holy calm seemed to shed its influence over her young mind, andpeaceful tears stole down her cheeks. Not a sound was there abroad, scarcely a leaf stirred; she could have stayed for hours there gazingon the calm beauty of nature, and communing with her own heart, whensuddenly a stirring rustling sound caught her ear; it came from ahollow channel on one side of the promontory, which was thicklyovergrown with the shrubby dogwood, wild roses, and bilberry bushes. Imagine the terror which seized the poor girl on perceiving the headof a black elk breaking through the covert of the bushes. With ascream and a bound, which the most deadly fear alone could haveinspired, Catharine sprung from the supporting trunk of the oak, anddashed down the precipitous side of the ravine; now clinging to thebending sprays of the flexile dogwood, now to some fragile birch orpoplar--now trusting to the yielding heads of the sweet-scentedceanothus, or filling her hands with sharp thorns from the roses thatclothed the bank, --flowers, grass, all were alike clutched at in herrapid and fearful descent. 

A loose fragment of granite on which she had unwittingly placed herfoot rolled from under her; unable to regain her balance she fellforwards, and was precipitated through the bushes into the ravinebelow, conscious only of unspeakable terror and an agonizing pain inone of her ankles which rendered her quite powerless. The noise of thestones she had dislodged in her fall, and her piteous cries, broughtLouis and Hector to her side, and they bore her in their arms to thehut of boughs, and laid her down upon her bed of leaves and grass andyoung pine boughs. When Catharine was able to speak, she related toLouis and Hector the cause of her fright. She was sure it must havebeen a wolf by his sharp teeth, long jaws, and grizzly coat. The lastglance she had had of him had filled her with terror; he was standingon a fallen tree, with his eyes fixed upon her. She could tell them nomore that happened; she never felt the ground she was on, so great washer fright. 

Hector was half disposed to scold his sister for rambling over thehills alone; but Louis was full of tender compassion for _la bellecousine_, and would not suffer her to be chidden. Fortunately, nobones had been fractured, though the sinews of her ankle were severelysprained; but the pain was intense, and after a sleepless night, theboys found, to their grief and dismay, that Catharine was unable toput her foot to the ground. This was an unlooked-for aggravation oftheir misfortunes; to pursue their wanderings was for the presentimpossible; rest was their only remedy, excepting the application ofsuch cooling medicaments as circumstances would supply them with. Coldwater constantly applied to the swollen joint, was the first thingthat was suggested; but, simple as was the lotion, it was not easy toobtain it in sufficient quantities. They were full a quarter of a milefrom the lake shore, and the cold springs near it were yet furtheroff; and then the only vessel they had was the tin pot, which hardlycontained a pint; at the same time the thirst of the fevered suffererwas intolerable, and had also to be provided for. Poor Catharine, whatunexpected misery she now endured!

The valley and its neighbouring hills abounded in strawberries; theywere now ripening in abundance; the ground was scarlet in places withthis delicious fruit: they proved a blessed relief to the poorsufferer's burning thirst. Hector and Louis were unwearied insupplying her with them. 

Louis, ever fertile in expedients, crushed the cooling fruit andapplied them to the sprained foot; rendering the application stillmore grateful by spreading them upon the large smooth leaves of thesapling oak: these he bound on with strips of the leathery bark of themoose-wood, [Footnote: "_Dirca palustris_, " moose-wood Americanmezereon, leather-wood. From the Greek, _dirka_, a fountain or wetplace, its usual place of growth. ] which he had found growing in greatabundance near the entrance of the ravine. Hector, in the meantime, was not idle. After having collected a good supply of ripestrawberries, he climbed the hills in search of birds' eggs and smallgame. About noon he returned with the good news of having discovered aspring of fine water in an adjoining ravine, beneath a clump ofbass-wood and black cherry trees; he had also been so fortunate as tokill a woodchuck, having met with many of their burrows in thegravelly sides of the hills. The woodchuck seems to be a link betweenthe rabbit and badger; its colour is that of a leveret: it climbs likethe raccoon, and burrows like the rabbit; its eyes are large, full, and dark, the lip cleft, the soles of the feet naked, claws sharp, ears short; it feeds on grasses, grain, fruit, and berries. The fleshis white, oily, and, in the summer, rank, but is eaten in autumn bythe Indians and woodsmen; the skin is not much valued. They are easilykilled by dogs, though, being expert climbers, they often baffle theirenemies, clinging to the bark beyond their reach. A stone or stickwell aimed soon kills them; but they sometimes bite sharply. 

The woodchuck proved a providential supply; and Hector cheered hiscompanions with the assurance that they could not starve, as therewere plenty of these creatures to be found. They had seen one or twoabout Cold Springs, but they are less common in the deep forest landsthan on the drier, more open plains. 

"It is a great pity we have no larger vessel to bring our water fromthe spring, " said Hector, looking at the tin pot; "one is so apt tostumble among stones and tangled underwood. If we had only one of ourold bark dishes we could get a good supply at once. "

"There is a fallen birch not far from this, " said Louis. "I have heremy trusty knife; what is there to hinder us from constructing a vesselcapable of holding water, a gallon if you like?"

"How can you sew it together, cousin?" asked Catharine; "you haveneither deer sinews nor war-tap. " The Indian name for the flexibleroots of the _tamarack_, or swamp larch, which they make use of inmanufacturing their birch baskets and canoes. 

"I have a substitute at hand, ma belle;" and Louis pointed to thestrips of leather-wood he had collected for binding the dressings onher foot. 

When an idea once struck Louis, he never rested till he worked it outin some way. In a few minutes he was busily employed, stripping sheetsof the ever-useful birch-bark from the birch tree that had fallen atthe foot of the "Wolf's Crag;" for so the children had named thememorable spot where poor Catharine's accident had occurred. 

The rough outside coatings of the bark, which are of silverywhiteness, but ragged from exposure to the action of the weather inthe larger and older trees, he peeled off, and then cutting the barkso that the sides lapped well over and the corners were secured fromcracks, he proceeded to pierce holes opposite to each other, and withsome trouble managed to stitch them tightly together, by drawingstrips of the moose or leather-wood through and through. The firstattempt, of course, was but rude and ill-shaped, but it answered thepurpose, and only leaked a little at the corners for want of a sort offlap, which he had forgotten to allow in cutting out the bark, --thisflap in the Indian baskets and dishes turns up, and keeps all tightand close, --a defect he remedied in his subsequent attempts. In spiteof its deficiencies, Louis's water-jar was looked upon with greatadmiration, and highly commended by Catharine, who almost forgot hersufferings while watching her cousin's proceedings. 

Louis was elated by his own successful ingenuity, and was for runningoff directly to the spring. "Catharine shall now have cold water tobathe her poor ankle with, and to quench her thirst, " he said, joyfully springing to his feet, ready for a start up the steep bank;but Hector quietly restrained his lively cousin, by suggesting thepossibility of his not finding the "fountain in the wilderness, " asLouis termed the spring, or losing himself altogether. 

"Let us both go together then, " cried Louis. Catharine cast on hercousin an imploring glance. 

"Do not leave me, dear Louis--Hector, do not let me be left alone. "Her sorrowful appeal stayed the steps of the volatile Louis. 

"Go you, Hector, as you know the way. --I will not leave you, Kate, since I was the cause of all you have suffered; I will abide by you, in joy or in sorrow, till I see you once more safe in your own dearmother's arms. "

Comforted by this assurance, Catharine quickly dashed away thegathering tears from her cheeks, and chid her own foolish fears. 

"But you know, dear cousin, " she said, "I am so helpless; and then thedread of that horrible wolf makes a coward of me. "

After some little time had elapsed, Hector returned. The bark vesselhad done its duty to admiration; it only wanted a very littleimprovement to make it complete. The water was cold and pure. Hectorhad spent a little time in deepening the mouth of the spring, andplacing some stones about it. He described the ravine as being muchdeeper and wider and more gloomy than the one they occupied. The sidesand bottom were clothed with magnificent oaks. It was a grand sight, he said, to stand on the jutting spurs of this great ravine, and lookdown upon the tops of the trees that lay below, tossing their roundedheads like the waves of a big sea. There were many lovelyflowers-vetches of several kinds, blue, white, and pencilled, twiningamong the grass; a beautiful white-belled flower, that was like the"morning glory" _(Convolvulus major), _ and scarlet cups [Footnote:_Erichroma, _ or painted cup. ] in abundance, with roses in profusion. The bottom of this ravine was strewed in places with huge blocks ofblack granite, cushioned with thick green moss; it opened out into awide flat, similar to the one at the mouth of the valley of the "BigStone. "

Both Hector and his sister had insensibly imbibed a love of the grandand picturesque, by listening with untiring interest to their father'sanimated and enthusiastic descriptions of his Highland home, and thewild mountainous scenery that surrounded it. Though brought up insolitude and uneducated, there was nothing vulgar or rude in the mindsor manners of these young people. Simple and untaught they were, butthey were guileless, earnest, and unsophisticated; and if they lackedthe knowledge that is learned from books, they possessed much that wasuseful and practical, which had been taught by experience andobservation in the school of necessity. 

For several days the pain and fever arising from her sprain renderedany attempt at removing Catharine from the valley of the "Big Stone"impracticable. The ripe fruit began to grow less abundant in theirimmediate vicinity; neither woodchuck, partridge, nor squirrel hadbeen killed; and our poor wanderers now endured the agonizing pains ofhunger. Continual exposure to the air by night and by day contributednot a little to increase the desire for food. It is true, there wasthe yet untried lake, "bright, boundless, and free, " gleaming insilvery splendour, but in practice they knew nothing of the fisher'scraft, though, as a matter of report, they were well acquainted withits mysteries, and had often listened with delight to the featsperformed by their respective fathers in the art of angling, spearing, and netting. 

"I have heard my father say that so bold and numerous were the fish inthe lakes and rivers he used to fish in, that they could be taken bythe hand with a crooked pin and coarse thread, or wooden spear; butthat was in the Lower Province. And oh, what glorious tales I haveheard him tell of spearing fish by torchlight!"

"The fish may be wiser or not so numerous in this lake, " said Hector, "however, if Kate can bear to be moved, we will go down to the shoreand try our luck. But what can we do? we have neither hook nor lineprovided. "

Louis nodded his head, and sitting down on a projecting root of ascrub oak, produced from the depths of his capacious pocket a bit oftin, which he carefully selected from among a miscellaneous hoard oftreasures. "Here, " said he, holding it up to the view as hespoke, --"here is the slide of an old powder-flask, which I picked upfrom among some rubbish my sister had thrown out the other day. "

"I fear you will make nothing of that, " said Hector; "a bit of bonewould be better. If you had a file now, you might do something. "

"Stay a moment, Monsieur Hec; what do you call this?" and Louistriumphantly handed out of his pocket the very instrument in question, a few inches of a broken, rusty file; very rusty, indeed, it was, butstill it might be made to answer in such ingenious hands as those ofour young French Canadian. 

"I well remember, Katty, how you and Mathilde laughed at me fortreasuring up this old thing months ago. --Ah, Louis, Louis, you littleknew the use it was to be put to then, " he added thoughtfully, apostrophizing himself; "how little do we know what is to befall us inour young days!"

"God knows it all, " said Hector gravely; "we are under his goodguidance. "

"You are right, Hec; let us trust in his mercy, and he will take goodcare of us. Come, let us go to the lake, " Catharine added, and shesprang to her feet, but as quickly sank down upon the grass, andregarded her companions with a piteous look, saying, "I cannot walkone step; alas, alas! what is to become of me? I am only a uselessburden to you. If you leave me here I shall fall a prey to some savagebeast; and you cannot carry me with you in your search for food. "

"Dry your tears, sweet cousin; you shall go with us. Do you think thatHector or Louis would abandon you in your helpless state, to die ofhunger or thirst, or to be torn by wolves or bears? We will carry youby turns; the distance to the lake is nothing, and you are not so veryheavy, ma belle cousine; see, I could dance with you in my arms, youare so light a burden, "--and Louis gaily caught the suffering girl upin his arms, and with rapid steps struck into the deer-path that woundthrough the ravine towards the lake. But when they reached a pretty, rounded knoll (where Wolf Tower now stands), Louis was fain to placehis cousin on a flat stone beneath a big oak that grew beside thebank, and fling himself on the flowery ground at her feet, while hedrew a long breath, and gathered the fruit that grew among the longgrass to refresh himself after his fatigue. And then, while resting onthe "Elfin Knowe, " as Catharine called the hill, he employed himselfwith manufacturing a rude sort of a fish-hook, with the aid of hisknife, the bit of tin, and the rusty file. A bit of twine was nextproduced: boys have always a bit of string in their pockets; andLouis, as I have before hinted, was a provident hoarder of such smallmatters. The string was soon attached to the hook, and Hector was notlong in cutting a sapling that answered well the purpose of afishing-rod; and thus equipped they proceeded to the lake shore, Hector and Louis carrying the crippled Catharine by turns. When there, they selected a sheltered spot beneath a grove of overhanging cedarsand birches, festooned with wild vines, which, closely woven, formed anatural bower, quite impervious to the rays of the sun. A waterfalldashing from the upper part of the bank fell headlong in spray andfoam, and quietly spread itself among the round shingly fragments thatformed the beach of the lake. Beneath this pleasant bower Catharinecould repose and watch her companions at their novel employment, orbathe her feet and infirm ankle in the cool streamlet that rippled intiny wavelets over its stony bed. 

If the amusement of fishing prove pleasant and exciting when pursuedfor pastime only, it may readily be conceived that its interest mustbe greatly heightened when its object is satisfying a craving degreeof hunger. Among the sunny spots on the shore, innumerable swarms ofthe flying grasshopper or field crickets were sporting, and one ofthese proved an attractive bait. The line was no sooner cast into thewater than the hook was seized, and many were the brilliant specimensof sun-fish that our eager fishermen cast at Catharine's feet, allgleaming with gold and azure scales. Nor was there any lack of perch, or that delicate fish commonly known in these waters as the pinkroach. 

Tired at last with their easy sport, the hungry boys next proceeded tothe grateful task of scaling and dressing their fish. This they didvery expeditiously, as soon as the more difficult part of kindling afire on the beach had been accomplished with the help of the flint, knife, and dried rushes. The fish were then suspended, Indian fashion, on forked, sticks stuck in the ground and inclined at a suitable angletowards the glowing embers, --a few minutes sufficed to cook them. 

"Truly, " said Catharine, when the plentiful repast was set before her, "God hath, indeed, spread a table for us here in the wilderness;" somiraculous did this ample supply of delicious food seem in the eyes ofthis simple child of nature. 

They had often heard tell of the facility with which the fish could becaught, but they had known nothing of it from their own experience, asthe streams and creeks about Cold Springs afforded them but littleopportunity for exercising their skill as anglers; so that, with therude implements with which they were furnished, the result of theirmorning success seemed little short of divine interference in theirbehalf. Happy and contented in the belief that they were not forgottenby their heavenly Father, these poor "children in the wood" looked upwith gratitude to that beneficent Being who suffereth not even asparrow to fall unheeded. 

Upon Catharine, in particular, these things made a deep impression;and there, as she sat in the green shade, soothed by the lulling soundof the flowing waters, and the soft murmuring of the many-colouredinsects that hovered among the fragrant leaves which thatched hersylvan bower, her young heart was raised in humble and holyaspirations to the great Creator of all things living. A peaceful calmdiffused itself over her mind, as with hands meekly folded across herbreast, the young girl prayed with the guileless fervour of a trustingand faithful heart. 

The sun was just sinking in a flood of glory behind the darkpine-woods at the head of the lake, when Hector and Louis, who hadbeen carefully providing fish for the morrow (which was the Sabbath), came loaded with their finny prey carefully strung upon a willow-wand, and found Catharine sleeping in her bower. Louis was loath to breakher tranquil slumbers, but her careful brother reminded him of thedanger to which she was exposed, sleeping in the dew by thewater-side. "Moreover, " he added, "we have some distance to go, and wehave left the precious axe and the birch-bark vessel in the valley. "

These things were too valuable to be lost, so they roused the sleeper, and slowly recommenced their toilsome way, following the same paththat they had made in the morning. Fortunately, Hector had taken theprecaution to bend down the flexile branches of the dogwood and breakthe tops of the young trees that they had passed between on theirroute to the lake; and by this clue they were enabled with tolerablecertainty to retrace their way, nothing doubting of arriving in timeat the wigwam of boughs by the rock in the valley. 

Their progress was, however, slow, burdened with the care of the lamegirl, and laden with the fish. The purple shades of twilight soonclouded the scene, deepened by the heavy masses of foliage, which castgreater obscurity upon their narrow path; for they had now left theoak-flat and entered the gorge of the valley. The utter loneliness ofthe path, the grotesque shadows of the trees that stretched in longarray across the steep banks on either side, taking now this, now thatwild and fanciful shape, awakened strange feelings of dread in themind of these poor forlorn wanderers; like most persons bred up insolitude, their imaginations were strongly tinctured withsuperstitious fears. Here, then, in the lonely wilderness, far fromtheir beloved parents and social hearth, with no visible arm toprotect them from danger, none to encourage or to cheer them, theystarted with terror-blanched cheeks at every fitful breeze thatrustled the leaves or waved the branches above them. 

The gay and lively Louis, blithe as any wild bird in the brightsunlight, was the most easily oppressed by this strange superstitiousfear, when the shades of evening were closing round, and he wouldstart with ill-disguised terror at every sound or shape that met hisear or eye, though the next minute he was the first to laugh at hisown weakness. In Hector the feeling was of a graver, more solemn cast, recalling to his mind all the wild and wondrous tales with which hisfather was wont to entertain the children as they crouched round thehuge log-fire of an evening. It is strange the charm these marvelloustales possess for the youthful mind: no matter how improbable or howoften told, year after year they will be listened to with the sameardour, with an interest that appears to grow with repetition. Andstill, as they slowly wandered along, Hector would repeat to hisbreathless auditors those Highland legends that were as familiar totheir ears as household words; and still they listened with fear andwonder, and deep awe, till at each pause he made the deep-drawn breathand half-repressed shudder might be heard. And now the little partypaused irresolutely, fearing to proceed: they had omitted to noticesome landmark in their progress; the moon had not long been up, andher light was as yet indistinct; so they sat them down on a littlegrassy spot on the bank, and rested till the moon should lighten theirpath. 

Louis was confident they were not far from the "Big Stone, " butcareful Hector had his doubts, and Catharine was weary. The childrenhad already conceived a sort of home feeling for the valley and themass of stone that had sheltered them for so many nights; and soon thedark mass came in sight, as the broad full light of the now risen moonfell upon its rugged sides: they were nearer to it than they hadimagined. 

"Forward for the 'Big Stone' and the wigwam, " cried Louis. 

"Hush!" said Catharine, "look there!" raising her hand with a warninggesture. 

"Where? what?"

"The wolf! the wolf!" gasped out the terrified girl. There, indeed, upon the summit of the block, in the attitude of a sentinel orwatcher, stood the gaunt-figured animal; and as she spoke, a long wildcry, the sound of which seemed as if it came midway between the earthand the tops of the tall pines on the lofty ridge above them, struckterror into their hearts, as with speechless horror they gazed uponthe dark outline of the terrible beast. There it stood, with its headraised, its neck stretched outward, and ears erect, as if to catch theecho that gave back those dismal sounds; another minute and he wasgone to join his companions, and the crashing of branches and the rushof many feet on the high bank above was followed by the prolonged cryof a poor fugitive animal, --a doe, or fawn, perhaps, --in the veryclimax of mortal agony; and then the lonely recesses of the foresttook up that fearful death-cry, the far-off shores of the lake and thedistant islands prolonged it, and the terrified children clungtogether in fear and trembling. 

A few minutes over, and all was still. The chase had turned across thehills to some distant ravine; the wolves were all gone--not even thewatcher was left; and the little valley lay once more in silence, withall its dewy roses and sweet blossoms glittering in the moonlight. Butthough around them all was peace and loveliness, it was long ereconfidence was restored to the hearts of the panic-stricken andtrembling children. They beheld a savage enemy in every mass of leafyshade, and every rustling bough struck fresh terror into their excitedminds. They might have exclaimed, with the patriarch Jacob, "Howdreadful is this place!"

With hand clasped in hand, they sat them down among the thick covertof the bushes; for now they feared to move forward, lest the wolvesshould return. Sleep was long a stranger to their watchful eyes, eachfearing to be the only one left awake, and long and painful was theirvigil. Yet nature, overtasked, at length gave way, and sleep came downupon their eyelids--deep, unbroken sleep, which lasted till the broadsunlight, breaking through the leafy curtains of their forest-bed, andthe sound of waving boughs and twittering birds, once more awakenedthem to life and light, recalling them from happy dreams of home andfriends to an aching sense of loneliness and desolation. This day theydid not wander far from the valley, but took the precaution, asevening drew on, to light a large fire, the blaze of which theythought would keep away any beast of prey. They had no want of food, as the fish they had caught the day before proved an ample supply. Thehuckleberries were ripening too, and soon afforded them anever-failing source of food; there was also an abundance ofbilberries, the sweet fruit of which proved a great treat, besidesbeing very nourishing. 

CHAPTER III. 

 "Oh for a lodge in the vast wilderness, The boundless contiguity of shade!"

A fortnight had now passed, and Catharine still suffered so much frompain and fever that they were unable to continue their wanderings; allthat Hector and his cousin could do was to carry her to the bower bythe lake, where she reclined whilst they caught fish. The painfullonging to regain their lost home had lost nothing of its intensity;and often would the poor sufferer start from her bed of leaves andboughs to wring her hands and weep, and call in piteous tones uponthat dear father and mother who would have given worlds, had they beenat their command, to have heard but one accent of her beloved voice, to have felt one loving pressure from that fevered hand. Hope, theconsoler, hovered over the path of the young wanderers, long after shehad ceased to whisper comfort to the desolate hearts of the mournfulparents. 

Of all that suffered by this sad calamity, no one was more to bepitied than Louis Perron. Deeply did the poor boy lament thethoughtless folly which had involved his cousin Catharine in soterrible a misfortune. "If Kate had not been with me, " he would say, "we should not have been lost; for Hector is so cautious and socareful, he would not have left the cattle-path. But we were soheedless, we thought only of flowers and insects, of birds and suchtrifles, and paid no heed to our way. " Louis Perron, such is life. Theyoung press gaily onward, gathering the flowers, and following the gaybutterflies that attract them in the form of pleasure and amusement:they forget the grave counsels of the thoughtful, till they find thepath they have followed is beset with briers and thorns; and athousand painful difficulties that were unseen, unexpected, overwhelmand bring them to a sad sense of their own folly; and, perhaps, thepunishment of their errors does not fall upon themselves alone, butupon the innocent, who have unknowingly been made participators intheir fault. 

By the kindest and tenderest attention to all her comforts, Louisendeavoured to alleviate his cousin's sufferings, and soften herregrets; nay, he would often speak cheerfully and even gaily to her, when his own heart was heavy and his eyes ready to overflow withtears. 

"If it were not for our dear parents and the dear children at home, "he would say, "we might spend our time most happily upon thesecharming plains; it is much more delightful here than in the dark, thick woods; see how brightly the sunbeams come down and gladden theground, and cover the earth with fruit and flowers. It is pleasant tobe able to fish and hunt, and trap the game. Yes, if they were allhere, we would build us a nice log-house, and clear up these bushes onthe flat near the lake. This 'Elfin Knowe, ' as you call it, Kate, would be a nice spot to build upon. See these glorious old oaks--notone should be cut down; and we would have a boat and a canoe, andvoyage across to yonder islands. Would it not be charming, ma belle?"and Catharine, smiling at the picture drawn so eloquently, would enterinto the spirit of the project, and say, --

"Ah! Louis, that would be pleasant. "

"If we had but my father's rifle now, " said Hector, "and old Wolfe. "

"Yes, and Fanchette, dear little Fanchette, that trees the partridgesand black squirrels, " said Louis. 

"I saw a doe and a half-grown fawn beside her this very morning, atbreak of day, " said Hector. "The fawn was so little fearful, that if Ihad had a stick in my hand I could have killed it. I came within tenyards of the spot where it stood. I know it would be easy to catch oneby making a dead-fall. " A sort of trap in which game is taken in thewoods, or on the banks of creeks. 

"If we had but a dear fawn to frolic about us, like Mignon, dearinnocent Mignon, " cried Catharine, "I should never feel lonely then. "

"And we should never want for meat, if we could catch a fine fawn fromtime to time, ma belle. --Hec, what are you thinking of?"

"I was thinking, Louis, that if we were doomed to remain here all ourlives, we must build a house for ourselves; we could not live in theopen air without shelter as we have done. The summer will soon pass, and the rainy season will come, and the bitter frosts and snows ofwinter will have to be provided against. "

"But, Hector, do you really think there is no chance of finding ourway back to Cold Springs? We know it must be behind this lake, " saidLotus. 

"True, but whether east, west, or south, we cannot tell, and whicheverway we take now is but a chance; and if once we leave the lake and getinvolved in the mazes of that dark forest, we should perish: for weknow there is neither water nor fruit nor game to be had as there ishere, and we might soon be starved to death. God was good who led usbeside this fine lake, and upon these fruitful plains. "

"It is a good thing that I had my axe when we started from home, " saidHector. "We should not have been so well off without it; we shall findthe use of it if we have to build a house. We must look out for somespot where there is a spring of good water, and--"

"No horrible wolves, " interrupted Catharine. "Though I love thispretty ravine, and the banks and braes about us, I do not think Ishall like to stay here. I heard the wolves only last night, when youand Louis were asleep. "

"We must not forget to keep watch-fires. "

"What shall we do for clothes?" said Catharine, glancing at herhome-spun frock of wool and cotton plaid. 

"A weighty consideration indeed, " sighed Hector; "clothes must beprovided before ours are worn out and the winter comes on. "

"We must save all the skins of the woodchucks and squirrels, "suggested Louis; "and fawns when we catch them. "

"Yes, and fawns when we get them, " added Hector; "but it is timeenough to think of all these things; we must not give up all hope ofhome. "

"I give up all hope? I shall hope on while I have life, " saidCatharine. "My dear, dear father, he will never forget his lostchildren; he will try and find us, alive or dead; he will never giveup the search. "

Poor child, how long did this hope burn like a living torch in thyguileless breast. How often, as they roamed those hills and valleys, were thine eyes sent into the gloomy recesses of the dark ravines andthick bushes, with the hope that they would meet the advancing formand outstretched arms of thy earthly parents: all in vain. Yet thearms of thy heavenly Father were extended over thee, to guide, toguard, and to sustain thee. 

How often were Catharine's hands filled with wild-flowers, to carryhome, as she fondly said, to sick Louise or her mother. PoorCatharine, how often did your bouquets fade; how often did the sadexile water them with her tears, --for hers was the hope that keepsalive despair. 

When they roused them in the morning to recommence their fruitlesswanderings, they would say to each other, "Perhaps we shall see ourfather, he may find us here to-day;" but evening came, and still hecame not, and they were no nearer to their father's home than they hadbeen the day previous. 

"If we could but find our way back to the 'Cold Creek, ' we might, byfollowing its course, return to Cold Springs, " said Hector. 

"I doubt much the fact of the 'Cold Creek' having any connection withour Spring, " said Louis; "I think it has its rise in the BeaverMeadow, and following its course would only entangle us among thosewolfish balsam and cedar swamps, or lead us yet further astray intothe thick recesses of the pine forest. For my part, I believe we arealready fifty miles from Cold Springs. "

Persons who lose their way in the pathless woods have no idea ofdistance, or the points of the compass, unless they can see the sunrise and set, which it is not possible to do when surrounded by thedense growth of forest-trees; they rather measure distance by the timethey have been wandering, than by any other token. 

The children knew that they had been a long time absent from home, wandering hither and thither and they fancied their journey had beenas long as it had been weary. They had indeed the comfort of seeingthe sun in its course from east to west, but they knew not in whatdirection the home they had lost lay; it was this that troubled themin their choice of the course they should take each day, and at lastdetermined them to lose no more time so fruitlessly, where the perilwas so great, but seek for some pleasant spot where they might passtheir time in safety, and provide for their present and future wants. 

 "The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. "

Catharine declared her ankle was so much stronger than it had beensince the accident, and her health so much amended, that the day afterthe conversation just recorded, the little party bade farewell to thevalley of the "Big Stone, " and ascending the steep sides of the hills, bent their steps eastward, keeping the lake to their left hand. Hectorled the way, loaded with the axe, which he would trust to no one buthimself, the tin-pot, and the birch basket. Louis had to assist hiscousin up the steep banks, likewise some fish to carry, which had beencaught early in the morning. 

The wanderers thought at first to explore the ground near the lakeshore, but soon abandoned this resolution on finding the undergrowthof trees and bushes become so thick that they made little progress, and the fatigue of travelling was greatly increased by havingcontinually to put aside the bushes or bend them down. 

Hector advised trying the higher ground; and after following adeer-path through a small ravine that crossed the hills, they foundthemselves on a fine extent of table-land, richly but not too denselywooded with white and black oaks (_Quercus alba_, and _Quercusnigra_), diversified with here and there a solitary pine, whichreared its straight and pillar-like trunk in stately grandeur aboveits leafy companions; a meet eyrie for the bald eagle, that kept watchfrom its dark crest over the silent waters of the lake, spread belowlike a silver zone studded with emeralds. 

In their progress they passed the head of many small ravines, whichdivided the hilly shores of the lake into deep furrows: these furrowshad once been channels by which the waters of some upper lake (thesite of which is now dry land) had at a former period poured down intothe valley, filling the basin of what now is called the Rice Lake. These waters, with resistless sweep, had ploughed their way betweenthe hills, bearing in their course those blocks of granite andlimestone which are so widely scattered both on the hill-tops and theplains, or form a rocky pavement at the bottom of the narrow defiles. What a sight of sublime desolation must that outpouring of the watershave presented, when those deep banks were riven by the sweepingtorrents that were loosened from their former bounds! The pleased eyerests upon these tranquil shores, now covered with oaks and pines, orwaving with a flood of golden grain, or varied by neat dwellings andfruitful gardens; and the gazer on that peaceful scene scarcelypictures to himself what it must have been when no living eye wasthere to mark the rushing floods when they scooped to themselves thedeep bed in which they now repose. 

Those lovely islands that sit like stately crowns upon the waters weredoubtless the wreck that remained of the valley; elevated spots, whoserocky bases withstood the force of the rushing waters, that carriedaway the lighter portions of the soil. The southern shore, seen fromthe lake, seems to lie in regular ridges running from south to north:some few are parallel with the lake shore, possibly where someinsurmountable impediment turned the current of the subsiding waters;but they all find an outlet through their connection with ravinescommunicating with the lake. 

There is a beautiful level tract of land; with only here and there asolitary oak or a few stately pines growing upon it; it is commonlycalled the "Upper Race-course, " on account of the smoothness of thesurface. It forms a high table-land, nearly three hundred feet abovethe lake, and is surrounded by high hills. This spot, though now dryand covered with turf and flowers, and low bushes, has evidently oncebeen a broad sheet of water. To the eastward lies a still more lovelyand attractive spot, known as the "Lower Race-course. " It lies on alower level than the former one, and, like it, is embanked by a ridgeof distant hills. Both have ravines leading down to the Rice Lake, andmay have been the sources from whence its channel was filled. Someconvulsion of nature at a remote period, by raising the waters abovetheir natural level, might have caused a disruption of the banks, anddrained their beds, as they now appear ready for the ploughshare orthe spade. In the month of June these flats are brilliant with thesplendid blossoms of the _Castilegia coccinea_, or painted-cup, theazure lupine (_Lupinus perennis_), and snowy _Trillium_; dwarf roses(_Rosa blanda_) scent the evening air, and grow as if planted by thehand of taste. 

A carpeting of the small downy saxifrage (_Saxifraga nivalis_), withits white silky leaves, covers the ground in early spring. In autumnit is red with the bright berries and dark box-shaped leaves of aspecies of creeping winter-green, that the Indians call spice-berry(_Gaultheria procumbens_); the leaves are highly aromatic, and it ismedicinal as well as agreeable to the taste and smell. In the month ofJuly a gorgeous assemblage of orange lilies (_Lilium Philadelphicum_)take the place of the lupine and trilliums: these splendid lilies varyfrom orange to the brightest scarlet. Various species of sunflowersand coreopsis next appear, and elegant white _pyrolas_ [Footnote:Indian bean, also called Indian potato (_Apios tuberosa_). ] scent theair and charm the eye. The delicate lilac and white shrubby astersnext appear; and these are followed by the large deep-blue gentian, and here and there by the elegant fringed gentian. [Footnote: Gentianalinearis, G. Crenata. ] These are the latest and loveliest of theflowers that adorn this tract of land. It is indeed a garden ofnature's own planting, but the wild garden is being converted intofields of grain, and the wild flowers give place to a new race ofvegetables, less ornamental, but more useful to man and the races ofdomestic animals that depend upon him for their support. 

Our travellers, after wandering over this lovely plain, foundthemselves, at the close of the day, at the head of a fine ravine, [Footnote: Kilvert's Ravine, above Pine-tree Point. ] where they hadthe good fortune to perceive a spring of pure water oozing beneathsome large moss-covered blocks of black waterworn granite. The groundwas thickly covered with moss about the edges of the spring, and manyvarieties of flowering shrubs and fruits were scattered along thevalley and up the steep sides of the surrounding hills. There werewhortleberries, or huckleberries, as they are more usually called, inabundance; bilberries dead ripe, and falling from the bushes at atouch. The vines that wreathed the low bushes and climbed the treeswere loaded with clusters of grapes; but these were yet hard andgreen. Dwarf filberts grew on the dry gravelly sides of the hills, yetthe rough prickly calyx that enclosed the nut filled their fingerswith minute thorns that irritated the skin like the stings of thenettle; but as the kernel, when ripe, was sweet and good, they did notmind the consequences. The moist part of the valley was occupied by alarge bed of May-apples, [Footnote: _Podophyllum peltatum_, --mandrake, or May-apple. ] the fruit of which was of unusual size, but they werenot ripe, August being the month when they ripen; there were also wildplums still green, and wild cherries and blackberries ripening. Therewere great numbers of the woodchucks' burrows on the hills; wildpartridges and quails were seen under the thick covert of theblue-berried dog-wood, [Footnote: _Cornus sericea_. The blue berriesof this shrub are eaten by the partridge and wild ducks; also by thepigeons, and other birds. There are several species of this shrubcommon to the Rice Lake. ] that here grew in abundance at the mouth ofthe ravine where it opened to the lake. As this spot offered manyadvantages, our travellers halted for the night, and resolved to makeit their headquarters for a season, till they should meet with aneligible situation for building a winter shelter. 

Here, then, at the head of the valley, sheltered by one of the roundedhills that formed its sides, our young people erected a summer hut, somewhat after the fashion of an Indian wigwam, which was all theshelter that was requisite while the weather remained so warm. Throughthe opening at the gorge of this ravine they enjoyed a peep at thedistant waters of the lake, which terminated the vista, while theywere quite removed from its unwholesome vapours. 

The temperature of the air for some days had been hot and sultry, scarcely modified by the cool, delicious breeze that usually sets inabout nine o'clock and blows most refreshingly till four or five inthe afternoon. Hector and Louis had gone down to fish for supper, while Catharine busied herself in collecting leaves and drieddeer-grass, moss and fern, of which there was abundance near thespring. The boys had promised to cut some fresh cedar boughs near thelake shore, and bring them up to form a foundation for their beds, andalso to strew Indian-fashion over the floor of the hut by way of acarpet. 

The fragrant carpet of cedar or hemlock-spruce sprigs strewn lightlyover the earthen floor, was to them a luxury as great as if it hadbeen taken from the looms of Persia or Turkey, so happy and contentedwere they in their ignorance. Their beds of freshly gathered grass andleaves, raised from the earth by a heap of branches carefullyarranged, were to them as pleasant as beds of down, and the rude hutof bark and poles as curtains of damask or silk. 

Having collected as much of these materials as she deemed sufficientfor the purpose, Catharine next gathered up the dry oak branches, tomake a watch-fire for the night. This done, weary and warm, she satdown on a little hillock, beneath the cooling shade of a grove ofyoung aspens that grew near the hut. Pleased with the dancing of theleaves, which fluttered above her head, and fanned her warm cheek withtheir incessant motion, she thought, like her cousin Louise, that theaspen was the merriest tree in the forest, for it was always dancing, dancing, dancing. 

She watched the gathering of the distant thunderclouds, which cast adeeper, more sombre shade upon the pines that girded the northernshores of the lake as with an ebon frame. Insensibly her thoughtswandered far away from the lonely spot whereon she sat, to the stoup[Footnote: The Dutch word for veranda, which is still in common useamong the Canadians. ] in front of her father's house, and in memory'seye she beheld it all exactly as she had left it. There stood the bigspinning-wheel, just as she had set it aside; the hanks of dyed yarnsuspended from the rafters, the basket filled with the carded woolready for her work. She saw in fancy her father, with his fineathletic upright figure, his sunburnt cheeks and clustering sablehair, his clear energetic hazel eyes ever beaming upon her, hisfavourite child, with looks of love and kindness as she moved to andfro at her wheel. [Footnote: Such is the method of working at thelarge wool-wheel, unknown or obsolete in England. ] There, too, was hermother, with her light step and sweet cheerful voice, singing as shepursued her daily avocations; and Donald and Kenneth driving up thecows to be milked, or chopping firewood. And as these images, like thefigures of the magic-lantern, passed in all their living coloursbefore her mental vision, her head drooped heavier and lower till itsank upon her arm; and then she started, looked round, and sleptagain, her face deeply buried in her young bosom, and long andpeacefully the young girl slumbered. 

A sound of hurrying feet approaches, a wild cry is heard and pantingbreath, and the sleeper, with a startling scream, springs to her feet:she dreamed that she was struggling in the fangs of a wolf--its grislypaws were clasped about her throat; the feeling was agony andsuffocation: her languid eyes open. Can it be?--what is it that shesees? Yes, it is Wolfe; not the fierce creature of her dreams by nightand her fears by day, but her father's own brave, devoted dog. Whatjoy, what hope rushed to her heart! She threw herself upon the shaggyneck of the faithful beast, and wept from fulness of heart. 

"Yes, " she joyfully cried, "I knew that I should see him again. My owndear, dear, loving father! Father! father! dear, dear father, here areyour children! Come, come quickly!" and she hurried to the head of thevalley, raising her voice, that the beloved parent, who she nowconfidently believed was approaching, might be guided to the spot bythe well-known sound of her voice. 

Poor child! the echoes of thy eager voice, prolonged by everyprojecting headland of the valley, replied in mocking tones, "Comequickly!"

Bewildered she paused, listened breathlessly, and again she called, "Father, come quickly, come!" and again the deceitful sounds wererepeated, "Quickly come!"

The faithful dog, who had succeeded in tracking the steps of his lostmistress, raised his head and erected his ears as she called on herfather's name; but he gave no joyful bark of recognition as he waswont to do when he heard his master's step approaching. StillCatharine could not but think that Wolfe had only hurried on before, and that her father must be very near. 

The sound of her voice had been heard by her brother and cousin, who, fearing some evil beast had made its way to the wigwam, hastily woundup their line and left the fishing-ground to hurry to her assistance. They could hardly believe their eyes when they saw Wolfe, faithful oldWolfe, their earliest friend and playfellow, named by their fatherafter the gallant hero of Quebec. And they too, like Catharine, thought that their friends were not far distant; joyfully they climbedthe hills and shouted aloud, and Wolfe was coaxed and caressed andbesought to follow them to point out the way they should take. But alltheir entreaties were in vain. Worn out with fatigue and long fasting, the poor old dog refused to quit the embers of the fire, before whichhe stretched himself, and the boys now noticed his gaunt frame andwasted flesh--he looked almost starved. The fact now became evidentthat he was in a state of great exhaustion. Catharine thought he eyedthe spring with wishful looks, and she soon supplied him with water inthe bark dish to his great relief. 

Wolfe had been out for several days with his master, who would repeat, in tones of sad earnestness, to the faithful creature, "Lost, lost, lost!" It was his custom to do so when the cattle strayed, and Wolfewould travel in all directions till he found them, nor ceased hissearch till he discovered the objects he was ordered to bring home. The last night of the father's wanderings, when, sick and hopeless, hecame back to his melancholy home, as he sat sleeplessly rockinghimself to and fro, he involuntarily exclaimed, wringing his hands, "Lost, lost, lost!" Wolfe heard what to him was an imperative command;he rose, and stood at the door, and whined. Mechanically his masterrose, lifted the latch, and again exclaimed in passionate tones thosemagic words, that sent the faithful messenger forth into the darkforest path. Once on the trail he never left it, but with an instinctincomprehensible as it was powerful, he continued to track the woods, lingering long on spots where the wanderers had left any signs oftheir sojourn; he had for some time been baffled at the Beaver Meadow, and again where they had crossed Cold Creek, but had regained thescent and traced them to the valley of the "Big Stone, " and then, withthe sagacity of the bloodhound and the affection of the terrier hehad, at last, discovered the objects of his unwearied though oftenbaffled search. 

What a state of excitement did the unexpected arrival of old Wolfecreate! How many questions were put to the poor beast, as he lay withhis head pillowed on the knees of his loving mistress! Catharine knewit was foolish, but she could not help talking to the dumb animal, asif he had been conversant with her own language. Ah, old Wolfe, ifyour homesick nurse could but have interpreted those expressive looks, those eloquent waggings of your bushy tail, as it flapped upon thegrass, or waved from side to side; those gentle lickings of the hand, and mute sorrowful glances, as though he would have said, "Dearmistress, I know all your troubles; I know all you say; but I cannotanswer you!" There is something touching in the silent sympathy of thedog, to which only the hard-hearted and depraved can be quiteinsensible. I remember once hearing of a felon who had shown thegreatest obstinacy and callous indifference to the appeals of hisrelations and the clergyman who attended him in prison, but wassoftened by the sight of a little dog that had been his companion inhis days of comparative innocence, forcing its way through the crowd, till it gained the foot of the gallows; its mute look of anguish andaffection unlocked the fount of human feeling, and the condemned manwept--perhaps the first tears he had shed since childhood's happydays. 

The night closed in with a tempest of almost tropical violence. Theinky darkness of the sky was relieved, at intervals, by sheets oflurid flame, which revealed every object far off or near. The distantlake, just seen amid the screen of leaves through the gorge of thevalley, gleamed like a sea of molten sulphur; the deep narrow defile, shut in by the steep and wooded hills, looked deeper, more wild andgloomy, when revealed by that vivid glare of light. 

There was no stir among the trees, the heavy rounded masses of foliageremained unmoved; the very aspen, that tremulous sensitive tree, scarcely stirred: it seemed as if the very pulses of nature were atrest. The solemn murmur that preceded the thunder-peals might havebeen likened to the moaning of the dying. The children felt theloneliness of the spot. Seated at the entrance of their sylvan hut, infront of which their evening fire burned brightly, they looked outupon the storm in silence and in awe. Screened by the shelteringshrubs that grew near them, they felt comparatively safe from thedangers of the storm, which now burst in terrific violence above thevalley. Cloud answered to cloud, and the echoes of the hills prolongedthe sound, while shattered trunks and brittle branches filled the air, and shrieked and groaned in that wild war of elements. 

Between the pauses of the tempest the long howl of the wolves, fromtheir covert in some distant cedar swamp at the edge of the lake, might be heard from time to time, --a sound that always thrilled theirhearts with fear. To the mighty thunder-peals that burst above theirheads they listened with awe and wonder. It seemed, indeed, to them asif it were the voice of Him who "sendeth out his voice, yea, and thata mighty voice. " And they bowed and adored his majesty; but theyshrank with curdled blood from the cry of the _felon wolf_. 

And now the storm was at its climax, and the hail and rain came downin a whitening flood upon that ocean of forest leaves; the old graybranches were lifted up and down, and the stout trunks rent, for theywould not bow down before the fury of the whirlwind, and werescattered all abroad like chaff before the wind. 

The children thought not of danger for themselves, but they feared forthe safety of their fathers, whom they believed to be not far off fromthem. And often amid the raging of the elements they fancied theycould distinguish familiar voices calling upon their names. 

"Ah, if our fathers should have perished in this fearful storm, " saidCatharine, weeping, "or have been starved to death while seeking forus!" She covered her face and wept more bitterly. 

But Louis would not listen to such melancholy forebodings. Theirfathers were both brave, hardy men, accustomed to every sort of dangerand privation; they were able to take care of themselves. Yes, he wassure they were not far off; it was this unlucky storm coming on thathad prevented them from meeting. 

"To-morrow, ma chere, will be a glorious day after the storm. It willbe a joyful one too; we shall go out with Wolfe, and he will find hismaster, and then--oh, yes! I dare say my dear father will be withyours. They will have taken good heed to the track, and we shall soonsee our dear mothers and chere petite Louise. "

The storm lasted till past midnight, when it gradually subsided, andthe poor wanderers were glad to see the murky clouds roll off, and thestars peep forth among their broken masses; but they were reduced to apitiful state, the hurricane having beaten down their little hut, andtheir garments were drenched with rain. However, the boys made a goodfire with some bark and boughs they had in store: there were a fewsparks in their back log unextinguished; these they gladly fanned upinto a blaze, at which they dried their wet clothes, and warmedthemselves. The air was now cool almost to chilliness; for some daysthe weather remained unsettled, and the sky overcast with clouds, while the lake presented a leaden hue, crested with white mimic waves. 

They soon set to work to make another hut, and found close to the headof the ravine a great pine uprooted, affording them large pieces ofbark, which proved very serviceable in thatching the sides of the hut. The boys employed themselves in this work, while Catharine cooked thefish they had caught the day before, with a share of which old Wolfeseemed to be mightily well pleased. After they had breakfasted, theyall went up towards the high table-land above the ravine, with Wolfe, to look round in hope of getting sight of their friends from ColdSprings; but though they kept an anxious look-out in every direction, they returned towards evening tired and hopeless. Hector had killed ared squirrel, and a partridge which Wolfe "treed, "--that is, stoodbarking at the foot of the tree in which it had perched, --and thesupply of meat was a seasonable change. They also noticed and markedwith the axe, several trees where there were bee-hives, intending tocome in the cold weather and cut them down. Louis's father was a greatand successful bee-hunter; and Louis rather prided himself on havinglearned something of his father's skill in that line. Here, whereflowers were so abundant and water plentiful; the wild bees seemed tobe abundant also; besides, the open space between the trees, admittingthe warm sunbeams freely, was favourable both for the bees and theflowers on which they fed, and Louis talked joyfully of the finestores of honey they should collect in autumn. He had taught littleFanchon, a small French spaniel of his father's, to find out the treeswhere the bees hived, and also the nests of the ground-bees, and shewould bark at the foot of the tree, or scratch with her feet on theground, as the other dogs barked at the squirrels or the woodchucks;but Fanchon was far away, and Wolfe was old and would learn no newtricks, so Louis knew he had nothing but his own observation and theaxe to depend upon for procuring honey. 

The boys had been unsuccessful for some days past, in fishing; neitherperch nor sunfish, pink roach nor mud-pouts [Footnote: All these fishare indigenous to the fresh waters of Canada. ] were to be caught. However, they found water-mussels by groping in the sand, andcray-fish among the gravel at the edge of the water only; the latterpinched their fingers very spitefully. The mussels were not verypalatable, for want of salt; but hungry folks must not be dainty, andLouis declared them very good when well roasted, covered up with hotembers. "The fish-hawks, " said he, "set us a good example, for theyeat them, and so do the eagles and herons. I watched one the other daywith a mussel in his bill: he flew to a high tree, let his prey fall, and immediately darted down to secure it. But I drove him off; and, tomy great amusement, perceived the wise fellow had just let it fall ona stone, which had cracked the shell for him just in the right place. I often see shells lying at the foot of trees, far up the hills, wherethese birds must have left them. There is one large thick-shelledmussel that I have found several times with a round hole drilledthrough the shell, just as if it had been done with a small auger, --doubtless the work of some bird with a strong beak. "

"Do you remember, " said Catharine, "the fine pink mussel-shell thatHec picked up in the little corn-field last year? It had a hole in oneof the shells too, [Footnote: This ingenious mode of cracking theshells of mussels is common to many birds. The crow (_Corvus corone_)has been long known by American naturalists to break the thick shellsof the river mussels, by letting them fall from a height on to rocksand stones. ] and when my uncle saw it, he said it must have beendropped by some large bird, a fish-hawk possibly, or a heron, andbrought from the great lake, as it had been taken out of some deepwater; the mussels in our creeks being quite thin-shelled and white. "

"Do you remember what a quantity of large fish bones we found in theeagle's nest on the top of our hill, Louis?" said Hector. 

"I do. Those fish must have been larger than our perch and sunfish;they were brought from this very lake, I dare say. "

"If we had a good canoe now, or a boat, and a strong hook and line, wemight become great fishermen. "

"Louis, " said Catharine, "is always thinking about canoes, and boats, and skiffs; he ought to have been a sailor. "

Louis was confident that if they had a canoe he could soon learn tomanage her; he was an excellent sailor already in theory. Louis neversaw difficulties; he was always hopeful, and had a very good opinionof his own cleverness; he was quicker in most things, his ideas flowedfaster than Hector's. But Hector was more prudent, and possessed onevaluable quality--steady perseverance: he was slow in adopting anopinion, but when once convinced, he pushed on steadily till hemastered the subject or overcame the obstacle. 

"Catharine, " said Louis one day, "the huckleberries are now veryplentiful, and I think it would be a wise thing to gather a good storeof them and dry them for the winter. See, ma chere, wherever we turnour eyes or place our feet they are to be found; the hill-sides arepurple with them. We may for aught we know, be obliged to pass therest of our lives here; it will be well to prepare for the winter, when no berries are to be found. "

"It will be well, mon ami. But we must not dry them in the sun; forlet me tell you, Mr. Louis, that they will be quite tasteless--meredry husks. "

"Why so, ma belle?"

"I do not know the reason, but I only know the fact; for when ourmothers dried the currants and raspberries in the sun, such was thecase; but when they dried them on the oven floor, or on the hearth, they were quite nice. "

"Well, Cath, I think I know of a flat thin stone that will make a goodhearthstone; and we can get sheets of birch bark and sew into flatbags to keep the dried fruit in. "

They now turned all their attention to drying huckleberries (orwhortleberries). [Footnote: From the abundance of this fruit, theIndians have given the name of Whortleberry Plain to the lands on thesouth shore. During the month of July and the early part of August, large parties come to the Rice Lake Plains to gather huckleberries, which they preserve by drying, for winter use. These berries make adelicious tart or pudding, mixed with bilberries and red currants, requiring little sugar. ] Catharine and Louis (who fancied nothingcould be contrived without his help) attended to the preparing andmaking of the bags of birch bark; but Hector was soon tired of girl'swork, as he termed it, and after gathering some berries, would wanderaway over the hills in search of game and to explore the neighbouringhills and valleys, and sometimes it was sunset before he made hisappearance. Hector had made an excellent strong bow, like the Indianbow, out of a tough piece of hickory wood, which he found in one ofhis rambles, and he made arrows with wood that he seasoned in thesmoke, sharpening the heads with great care with his knife, andhardening them by exposure to strong heat, at a certain distance fromthe fire. The entrails of the woodchuck, stretched, and scraped, anddried, and rendered pliable by rubbing and drawing through the hands, answered for a bow-string; but afterwards, when they got the sinewsand hide of the deer, they used them, properly dressed for thepurpose. 

Hector also made a cross-bow, which he used with great effect, being atrue and steady marksman. Louis and he would often amuse themselveswith shooting at a mark, which they would chip on the bark of a tree, even Catharine was a tolerable archeress with the long-bow, and thehut was now seldom without game of one kind or other. Hector seldomreturned from his rambles without partridges, quails, or youngpigeons, which are plentiful at this season of the year; many of theold ones that pass over in their migratory flight in the spring stayto breed, or return thither for the acorns and berries that are to befound in great abundance. Squirrels, too, are very plentiful at thisseason. Hector and Louis remarked that the red and black squirrelsnever were to be found very near each other. It is a common beliefthat the red squirrels make common cause with the gray, and beat thelarger enemy off the ground. The black squirrel, for a succession ofyears, was very rarely to be met with on the Plains, while there wereplenty of the red and gray in the "oak openings. " [Footnote: Withinthe last few years, however, the black squirrels have been verynumerous, and the red are less frequently to be seen. The flesh of theblack squirrel is tender, white, and delicate, like that of a youngrabbit. ] Deer, at the time our young Crusoes were living on the RiceLake Plains, were plentiful, and, of course, so were those beasts thatprey upon them, --wolves, bears, and wolverines, besides the Canadianlynx, or catamount, as it is here commonly called, a species of wildcat or panther. These wild animals are now no longer to be seen: it isa rare thing to hear of bears or wolves, and the wolverine and lynxare known only as matters of history in this part of the country. These animals disappear as civilization advances, while some othersincrease and follow man, especially many species of birds, which seemto pick up the crumbs that fall from the rich man's board, andmultiply about his dwelling; some adopt new habits and modes ofbuilding and feeding, according to the alteration and improvement intheir circumstances. 

While our young people seldom wanted for meat, they felt the privationof the bread to which they had been accustomed very sensibly. One day, while Hector and Louis were busily engaged with their assistant, Wolfe, in unearthing a woodchuck, that had taken refuge in his burrow, on one of the gravelly hills above the lake, Catharine amused herselfby looking for flowers. She had filled her lap with ripe May-apples, [Footnote: The fruit of the May-apple, in rich, moist soil, willattain to the size of the magnum bonum, or egg-plum, which itresembles in colour and shape. It makes a delicious preserve, ifseasoned with cloves or ginger. When eaten uncooked, the outer rind, which is thick and fleshy and has a rank taste, should be thrownaside; the fine seed pulp in which the seeds are embedded alone shouldbe eaten. The root of the podophyllum is used as a cathartic by theIndians. The root of this plant is reticulated, and when a large bodyof them are uncovered, they present a singular appearance, interlacingeach other in large meshes like an extensive net-work. These roots arewhite, as thick as a man's little finger, and fragrant, and spreadhorizontally along the surface. The blossom is like a small whiterose. ] but finding them cumbersome in climbing the steep wooded hills, she deposited them at the foot of a tree near the boys, and pursuedher search; and it was not long before she perceived some prettygrassy-looking plants, with heads of bright lilac flowers, and onplucking one pulled up the root also. The root was about the size andshape of a large crocus: and on biting it, she found it far fromdisagreeable--sweet, and slightly astringent. It seemed to be afavourite root with the woodchucks, for she noticed that it grew abouttheir burrows on dry, gravelly soil, and many of the stems were bittenand the roots eaten--a warrant, in full, of wholesomeness. Therefore, carrying home a parcel of the largest of the roots, she roasted themin the embers; and they proved almost as good as chestnuts, and moresatisfying than the acorns of the white oak, which they had oftenroasted in the fire when they were out working on the fallow at thelog heaps. Hector and Louis ate heartily of the roots, and commendedCatharine for the discovery. Not many days afterwards, Louisaccidentally found a much larger and more valuable root near the lakeshore. He saw a fine climbing shrub, with close bunches of dark, reddish-purple, pea-shaped flowers, which scented the air with adelicious perfume. The plant climbed to a great height over the youngtrees, with a profusion of dark-green leaves and tendrils. Pleasedwith the bowery appearance of the plant, he tried to pull one up, thathe might show it to his cousin, when the root displayed a number oflarge tubers, as big as good-sized potatoes, regular oval-shaped; theinside was quite white, tasting somewhat like a potato, onlypleasanter, when in its raw state, than an uncooked potato. Louisgathered his pockets full, and hastened home with his prize; and onbeing roasted, these new roots were decided to be little inferior topotatoes--at all events, they were a valuable addition to theirslender stores; and they procured as many as they could find, carefully storing them in a hole which they dug for that purpose in acorner of their hut. [Footnote: This plant appears to me to be aspecies of the _Psoralea esculenta_, or Indian bread-root, which itresembles in description, excepting that the root of the above istuberous, oval, and connected by long filaments. The largest tubersare farthest from the stem of the plant. ] Hector suggested that theseroots would be far better late in autumn or early in the spring thanduring the time that the plant was in bloom; for he knew fromobservation and experience that at the flowering season the greaterpart of the nourishment derived from the soil goes to perfect theflower and the seeds. Upon scraping the cut tuber, there was a white, floury powder produced, resembling the starchy substance of thepotato. 

"This flour, " said Catharine, "would make good porridge with milk. "

"Excellent, no doubt, my wise little cook and housekeeper, " said Louislaughing; "but, ma belle cousine, where is the milk and where is theporridge-pot to come from?"

"Indeed, " said Catharine, "I fear, Louis, we must wait long for both. "

One fine day Louis returned home from the lake shore in great hastefor the bows and arrows, with the interesting news that a herd of fivedeer were in the water, and making for Long Island. 

"But, Louis, they will be gone out of sight and beyond the reach ofthe arrows, " said Catharine, as she handed him down the bows and asheaf of arrows, which she quickly slung round his shoulders by thebelt of skin which the young hunter had made for himself. 

"No fear, ma chere; they will stop to feed on the beds of rice andlilies. We must have Wolfe. Here, Wolfe, Wolfe, Wolfe! here, boy, here!"

Catharine caught a portion of the excitement that danced in the brighteyes of her cousin, and declaring that she too would go and witnessthe hunt, ran down the ravine by his side; while Wolfe, who evidentlyunderstood that they had some sport in view, trotted along by hismistress, wagging his great bushy tail, and looking in highgood-humour. 

Hector was impatiently waiting the arrival of the bows and Wolfe. Theherd of deer, consisting of a noble buck, two full-grown females, andtwo young half-grown males, were quietly feeding among the beds ofrice and rushes not more than fifteen or twenty yards from the shore, apparently quite unconcerned at the presence of Hector, who stood on afallen trunk, eagerly eying their motions. But the hurried steps ofLouis and Catharine, with the deep, sonorous baying of Wolfe, soonroused the timid creatures to a sense of danger; and the stag, raisinghis head and making, as the children thought, a signal for retreat, now struck boldly out for the nearest point of Long Island. 

"We shall lose them, " cried Louis despairingly, eying the long brighttrack that cut the silvery waters as the deer swam gallantly out. 

"Hist, hist, Louis, " said Hector; "all depends upon Wolfe--Turn them, Wolfe! hey, hey, seek them, boy!"

Wolfe dashed bravely into the lake. 

"Head them! head them!" shouted Hector. Wolfe knew what was meant. With the sagacity of a long-trained hunter, he made a desperate effortto gain the advantage by a circuitous route. Twice the stag turnedirresolute, as if to face his foe, and Wolfe, taking the time, swamahead, and then the race began. As soon as the boys saw the herd hadturned, and that Wolfe was between them and the island, theyseparated, Louis making good his ambush to the right among the cedars, and Hector at the spring to the west, while Catharine was stationed atthe solitary pine-tree, at the point which commanded the entrance ofthe ravine. 

"Now, Cathy, " said her brother, "when you see the herd making for theravine, shout and clap your hands, and they will turn either to theright or to the left. Do not let them land, or we shall lose them. Wemust trust to Wolfe for their not escaping to the island. Wolfe iswell trained; he knows what he is about. "

Catharine proved a dutiful ally. She did as she was bid. She waitedtill the deer were within a few yards of the shore, then she shoutedand clapped her hands. Frightened at the noise and clamour, theterrified creatures coasted along for some way, till within a littledistance of the thicket where Hector lay concealed--the very spot fromwhich they had emerged when they first took to the water; to thisplace they boldly steered. Louis, who had watched the direction theherd had taken with breathless interest, now noiselessly hurried toHector's assistance, taking an advantageous post for aim, in caseHector's arrow missed, or only slightly wounded one of the deer. 

Hector, crouched beneath the trees, waited cautiously till one of thedoes was within reach of his arrow, and so good and true was his aim, that it hit the animal in the throat a little above the chest, Thestag now turned again, but Wolfe was behind and pressed him forward, and again the noble animal strained every nerve for the shore. Louisnow shot his arrow, but it swerved from the mark. He was too eager;the arrow glanced harmlessly along the water. But the cool, unimpassioned hand of Hector sent another arrow between the eyes ofthe doe, stunning her with its force; and then another from Louis laidher on her side, dying, and staining the water with her blood. 

The herd, abandoning their dying companion, dashed frantically to theshore; and the young hunters, elated by their success, suffered themto make good their landing without further molestation. Wolfe, at asignal from his master, ran in the quarry, and Louis declaredexultingly that as his last arrow had given the _coup de grace_, he was entitled to the honour of cutting the throat of the doe; butthis the stern Highlander protested against, and Louis, with acareless laugh, yielded the point, contenting himself with saying, "Ahwell, I will get the first steak of the venison when it is roasted, and that is far more to my taste. " Moreover, he privately recounted toCatharine the important share he had had in the exploit, giving her, at the same time, full credit for the worthy service she had performedin withstanding the landing of the herd. Wolfe, too, came in for alarge share of the honour and glory of the chase. 

The boys were soon hard at work skinning the animal and cutting it up. This was the most valuable acquisition they had yet effected, for manyuses were to be made of the deer besides eating the flesh. It was astore of wealth in their eyes. 

During the many years that their fathers had sojourned in the country, there had been occasional intercourse with the fur-traders andtrappers, and sometimes with friendly-disposed Indians who had calledat the lodges of their white brothers for food and tobacco. 

From all these men, rude as they were, some practical knowledge hadbeen acquired; and their visits, though few and far between, had leftgood fruit behind them--something to think about and talk about andturn to future advantage. 

The boys had learned from the Indians how precious were the toughsinews of the deer for sewing. They knew how to prepare the skins ofthe deer for moccasins, which they could cut out and make as neatly asthe squaws themselves. They could fashion arrow-heads, and knew howbest to season the wood for making both the long and cross bow. Theyhad seen the fish-hooks these people manufactured from bone and hardwood. They knew that strips of fresh-cut skins would make bowstrings, or the entrails of animals dried and rendered pliable. They hadwatched the squaws making baskets of the inner bark of the oak, elm, and bass-wood, and mats of the inner bark of the cedar, with manyother ingenious works that they now found would prove useful to them, after a little practice had perfected their inexperienced attempts. They also knew how to dry venison as the Indians and trappers prepareit, by cutting the thick fleshy portions of the meat into strips fromfour to six inches in breadth and two or more in thickness. Thesestrips they strung upon poles supported on forked sticks, and exposedthem to the drying action of the sun and wind. Fish they split open, and removed the back and head bones, and smoked them slightly, ordried them in the sun. 

Their success in killing the doe greatly raised their spirits; intheir joy they embraced each other, and bestowed the most affectionatecaresses on Wolfe for his good conduct. 

"But for this dear, wise old fellow, we should have had no venison fordinner to-day, " said Louis; "and so, Wolfe, you shall have a choicepiece for your own share. "

Every part of the deer seemed valuable in the eyes of the younghunters. The skin they carefully stretched out upon sticks to drygradually, and the entrails they also preserved for bow-strings. Thesinews of the legs and back they drew out and laid carefully aside forfuture use. 

"We shall be glad enough of these strings by-and-by, " said carefulHector; "for the summer will soon be at an end, and then we must turnour attention to making ourselves winter clothes and moccasins. "

"Yes, Hec, and a good warm shanty. These huts of bark and boughs willnot do when once the cold weather sets in. "

"A shanty could soon be put up, " said Hector; "for even Kate, wee bitlassie as she is, could give us some help in trimming up the logs. "

"That I could, indeed, " replied Catharine; "for you may remember, Hec, that the last journey my father made to the Bay, [Footnote: Bay ofQuinte. ] with the pack of furs, that you and I called a _Bee_[Footnote: A Bee is a practical instance of duty to a neighbour. Wefear it is peculiar to Canada, although deserving of imitation in allChristian colonies. When any work which requires many hands is in thecourse of performance, as the building of log houses, barns, orshanties, all the neighbours are summoned, and give their bestassistance in the construction. Of course the assisted party is liableto be called upon by the community in turn, to repay in kind the helphe has received. ] to put up a shed for the new cow that he was todrive back with him, and I am sure Mathilde and I did as much good asyou and Louis. You know you said you could not have got on nearly sowell without our help. "

"After all, " said Hector thoughtfully, "children can do a great manythings if they only resolutely set to work, and use the wits and thestrength that God has given them to work with. A few weeks ago and weshould have thought it utterly impossible to have supported ourselvesin a lonely wilderness like this by our own exertions in fishing andhunting. "

"If we had been lost in the forest we must have died with hunger, "said Catharine; "but let us be thankful to the good God who led ushither, and gave us health and strength to help ourselves. "

CHAPTER IV. 

 "Aye from the sultry heat, We to our cave retreat, O'er canopied by huge roots, intertwined, Of wildest texture, blackened o'er with age. "

 COLERIDGE. 

"Louis, what are you cutting out of that bit OF wood?" said Catharine, the very next day after the first ideas of the shanty had beenstarted. 

"Hollowing out a canoe. "

"Out of that piece of stick!" said Catharine, laughing. "How manypassengers is it to accommodate, my dear?"

"I am only making a model. My canoe will be made out of a big pinelog, and large enough to hold three. "

"Is it to be like the big sap-trough in the sugar-bush at home?"

Louis nodded assent. "I long to go over to the island; I see lots ofducks popping in and out of the little bays beneath the cedars, andthere are plenty of partridges, I am sure, and squirrels--it is thevery place for them. "

"And shall we have a sail as well as oars?"

"Yes; set up your apron for a sail. "

Catharine cast a rueful look upon the tattered remnant of the apron. 

"It is worth nothing now, " she said, sighing; "and what am I to dowhen my gown is worn out? It is a good thing it is so strong; if ithad been cotton, now, it would have been torn to bits among thebushes. "

"We must make clothes of skins as soon as we get enough, " saidHector. --"Louis, I think you can manufacture a bone needle; we canpierce the hole with the strong thorns, or a little round bone bodkinthat can be easily made. "

"The first rainy day we will see what we can do, " replied Louis; "butI am full of my canoe just now. "

"Indeed, Louis, I believe you never think of anything else; but evenif we had a canoe to-morrow, I do not think that either you or I couldmanage one, " said cautious Hector. 

"I could soon learn as others have done before me. I wonder who firsttaught the Indians to make canoes, and venture out on the lakes andstreams. Why should we be more stupid than these untaught heathens? Ihave listened so often to my father's stories and adventures when hewas out lumbering on the St. John River, that I am as familiar withthe idea of a boat as if I had been born in one. Only think now, " hesaid, turning to Catharine; "just think of the fish, the big ones, wecould get if we had but a canoe to push out from the shore beyondthose rush-beds. "

"It strikes me, Louis, that those rush-beds, as you call them, must bethe Indian rice that we have seen the squaws make their soup of. "

"Yes; and you remember old Jacob used to talk of a fine lake that hecalled Rice Lake, somewhere to the northward of the Cold Springs, where he said there was plenty of game of all kinds, and a fine openplace where people could see through the openings among the trees. Hesaid it was a great hunting-place for the Indians in the Fall of theyear, and that they came there to hunt the peccary, which is, as youknow, a kind of wild boar, and whose flesh is very good eating. "

"I hope the Indians will not come here and find us out, " saidCatharine, shuddering; "I think I should be more frightened at theIndians than at the wolves. Have we not heard fearful tales of theircruelty?"

"But we have never been harmed by them; they have always been civilenough when they came to the Springs. "

"They came, you know, for food, or shelter or something that theywanted from us; but it may be different when they find us alone andunprotected, encroaching upon their hunting-grounds. "

"The place is wide enough for us and them; we will try and make themour friends. "

"The wolf and the lamb do not lie down in the fold together, " observedHector. "The Indian is treacherous. The wild man and the civilized mando not live well together, their habits and dispositions are socontrary the one to the other. We are open and they are cunning, andthey suspect our openness to be only a greater degree of cunning thantheir own--they do not understand us. They are taught to berevengeful, and we are taught to forgive our enemies. So you see thatwhat is a virtue with the savage is a crime with the Christian. If theIndian could be taught the Word of God he might be kind, and true, andgentle as well as brave. "

It was with conversations like this that our poor wanderers whiledaway their weariness. The love of life, and the exertions necessaryfor self-preservation, occupied so large a portion of their thoughtsand time, that they had hardly leisure for repining. They mutuallycheered and animated each other to bear up against the sad fate thathad thus severed them from every kindred tie, and shut them out fromthat home to which their young hearts were bound by every endearingremembrance from infancy upwards. 

One bright September morning our young people set off on an exploringexpedition, leaving the faithful Wolfe to watch the wigwam; for theywell knew he was too honest to touch their store of dried fish andvenison himself, and too trusty and fierce to suffer wolf or wild catnear it. 

They crossed several narrow, deep ravines, and the low wooded flatalong the lake shore, to the eastward of Pine-tree Point. Finding itdifficult to force their way through the thick underwood that alwaysimpedes the progress of the traveller on the low shores of the lake, they followed the course of an ascending narrow ridge, which formed asort of natural causeway between two parallel hollows, the top of thisridge being in many places not wider than a cart or wagon could passalong. The sides were most gracefully adorned with flowering shrubs, wild vines, creepers of various species, wild cherries of severalkinds, hawthorns, bilberry bushes, high-bush cranberries, silverbirch, poplars, oaks, and pines; while in the deep ravines on eitherside grew trees of the largest growth, the heads of which lay on alevel with their path. Wild cliffy banks, beset with huge boulders ofred and gray granite and water-worn limestone, showed that it had onceformed the boundary of the lake, though now it was almost a quarter ofa mile in its rear. Springs of pure water were in abundance, tricklingdown the steep rugged sides of this wooded glen. The children wanderedonwards, delighted with the wild picturesque path they had chosen, sometimes resting on a huge block of moss-covered stone, or on thetwisted roots of some ancient gray old oak or pine, whilst they gazedwith curiosity and interest on the lonely but lovely landscape beforethem. Across the lake, the dark forest shut all else from their view, rising in gradual far-off slopes till it reached the utmost boundaryof sight. Much the children marvelled what country it might be thatlay in the dim, blue, hazy distance, --to them, indeed, a _terraincognita_--a land of mystery; but neither of her companions laughedwhen Catharine gravely suggested the probability of this unknown shoreto the northward being her father's beloved Highlands. Let not theyouthful and more learned reader smile at the ignorance of theCanadian girl; she knew nothing of maps, and globes, andhemispheres, --her only book of study had been the Holy Scriptures, heronly teacher a poor Highland soldier. 

Following the elevated ground above this deep valley, the travellersat last halted on the extreme edge of a high and precipitous mound, that formed an abrupt termination to the deep glen. They found waternot far from this spot fit for drinking by following a deer-path alittle to the southward. And there, on the borders of a little basinon a pleasant brae, where the bright silver birch waved gracefullyover its sides, they decided upon building a winter house. They namedthe spot Mount Ararat: "For here, " said they, "we will build us an arkof refuge, and wander no more. " And Mount Ararat is the name which thespot still bears. Here they sat them down on a fallen tree and ate ameal of dried venison and drank of the cold spring that welled outfrom beneath the edge of the bank. Hector felled a tree to mark thesite of their house near the birches; and they made a blaze, as it iscalled, on he trees, by cutting away pieces of the outer bark as theyreturned home towards the wigwam, that they might not miss the place. They found less difficulty in retracing their path than they hadformerly, as there were some striking peculiarities to mark it, andthey had learned to be very minute in the marks they made as theytravelled, so that they now seldom missed the way they came by. A fewdays after this they removed all their household stores--namely, theaxe, the tin pot, bows and arrows, baskets, and bags of dried fruit, the dried venison and fish, and the deerskin; nor did they forget thedeer-scalp, which they bore away as a trophy, to be fastened up overthe door of their new dwelling, for a memorial of their first hunt onthe shores of the Rice Lake. The skin was given to Catharine to sleepon. 

The boys were now busy from morning till night chopping down trees forhouse-logs. It was a work of time and labour, as the axe was blunt andthe oaks hard to cut; but they laboured on without grumbling, and Katewatched the fall of each tree with lively joy. They were no longerdull; there was something to look forward to from day to day--theywere going to commence housekeeping in good earnest; they would bewarmly and well lodged before the bitter frosts of winter could cometo chill their blood. It was a joyful day when the log walls of thelittle shanty were put up, and the door hewed out. Windows they hadnone, so they did not cut out the spaces for them; [Footnote: Many ashanty is put up in Canada without windows, and only an open space fora door, with a rude plank set up to close it in at night. ] they coulddo very well without, as hundreds of Irish and Highland emigrants havedone before and since. 

A pile of stones rudely cemented together with wet clay and ashesagainst the logs, and a hole cut in the roof, formed the chimney andhearth in this primitive dwelling. The chinks were filled withwedge-shaped pieces of wood, and plastered with clay: the trees, beingchiefly oaks and pines, afforded no moss. This deficiency rathersurprised the boys, for in the thick forest and close cedar-swampsmoss grows in abundance on the north side of the trees, especially onthe cedar, maple, beech, bass, and iron wood; but there were few ofthese, excepting a chance one or two in the little basin in front ofthe house. The roof was next put on, which consisted of split cedars. And when the little dwelling was thus far habitable, they were allvery happy. While the boys had been putting on the roof, Catharine hadcollected the stones for the chimney, and cleared the earthen floor ofthe chips and rubbish with a broom of cedar boughs, bound togetherwith a leathern thong. She had swept it all clean, carefully removingall unsightly objects, and strewing it over with fresh cedar sprigs, which gave out a pleasant odour and formed a smooth and not unseemlycarpet for their little dwelling. How cheerful was the first fireblazing up on their own hearth! It was so pleasant to sit by itsgladdening light, and chat away of all they had done and all that theymeant to do! Here was to be a set of split cedar shelves, to holdtheir provisions and baskets; there a set of stout pegs was to beinserted between the logs, for hanging up strings of dried meat, bagsof birch bark, or the skins of the animals they were to shoot or trap. A table was to be fixed on posts in the centre of the floor. Louis wasto carve wooden platters and dishes, and some stools were to be madewith hewn blocks of wood till something better could be devised. Theirbedsteads were rough poles of ironwood, supported by posts driven intothe ground, and partly upheld by the projection of the logs at theangles of the wall. Nothing could be more simple. The frame-work wasof split cedar; and a safe bed was made by pine boughs being firstlaid upon the frame, and then thickly covered with dried grass, moss, and withered leaves. Such were the lowly but healthy couches on whichthese children of the forest slept. 

A dwelling so rudely framed and scantily furnished would be regardedwith disdain by the poorest English peasant. Yet many a settler'sfamily have I seen as roughly lodged, while a better house was beingprepared for their reception; and many a gentleman's son hasvoluntarily submitted to privations as great as these from the love ofnovelty and adventure, or to embark in the tempting expectation ofrealizing money in the lumbering trade, --working hard, and sharing therude log shanty and ruder society of those reckless and hardy men, theCanadian lumberers. During the spring, and summer months these menspread themselves through the trackless forests, and along the shoresof nameless lakes and unknown streams, to cut the pine or oaklumber, --such being the name they give to the felled stems oftrees, --which are then hewn, and in the winter dragged out upon theice, where they are formed into rafts, and in spring floated down thewaters till they reach the great St. Lawrence, and are, afterinnumerable difficulties and casualties, finally shipped for England. I have likewise known European gentlemen voluntarily leave thecomforts of a civilized home and associate themselves with the Indiantrappers and hunters, leading lives as wandering and as wild as theuncultivated children of the forest. 

The nights and early mornings were already growing sensibly morechilly. The dews at this season fall heavily, and the mists fill thevalleys till the sun has risen with sufficient heat to draw up thevapours. It was a good thing that the shanty was finished so soon, orthe exposure to the damp air might have been productive of ague andfever. Every hour almost they spent in making little additions totheir household comforts, but some time was necessarily passed intrying to obtain provisions. One day Hector, who had been out fromdawn till moonrise, returned with the welcome news that he had shot ayoung deer, and required the assistance of his cousin to bring it upthe steep bank (it was just at the entrance of the great ravine) belowthe precipitous cliff near the lake: he had left old Wolfe to guard itin the meantime. They had now plenty of fresh broiled meat, and thisstore was very acceptable, as they were obliged to be very careful ofthe dried meat that they had. 

This time Catharine adopted a new plan. Instead of cutting the meat instrips, and drying it (or jerking it, as the lumberers term it), sheroasted it before the fire, and hung it up, wrapping it in thin sheetsof birch bark. The juices, instead of being dried up, were preserved, and the meat was more palatable. Catharine found great store of wildplums in a beautiful valley not far from the shanty; these she driedfor the winter store, eating sparingly of them in their fresh state. She also found plenty of wild black currants and high-bushcranberries, on the banks of a charming creek of bright water thatflowed between a range of high pine hills and finally emptied itselfinto the lake. There were great quantities of water-cresses in thispretty brook; they grew in bright, round, cushion-like tufts at thebottom of the water, and were tender and wholesome. These formed anagreeable addition to their diet, which had hitherto been chieflyconfined to animal food, for they could not always meet with a supplyof the bread-roots, as they grew chiefly in damp, swampy thickets onthe lake shore, which were sometimes very difficult of access. However, they never missed any opportunity of increasing their stores, and laying up for the winter such roots as they could procure. 

As the cool weather and frosty nights drew on, the want of warmclothes and bed-covering became more sensibly felt; those they hadwere beginning to wear out. Catharine had managed to wash her clothesat the lake several times, and thus preserved them clean andwholesome; but she was often sorely puzzled how the want of her dresswas to be supplied as time wore on, and many were the consultationsshe held with the boys on the important subject. With the aid of aneedle she might be able to manufacture the skins of the small animalsinto some sort of jacket, and the doe-skin and deer-skin could be madeinto garments for the boys. Louis was always suppling and rubbing theskins to make them soft: they had taken off the hair by sprinkling itwith wood ashes, and rolling it up with the hairy side inwards. Out ofone of these skins he made excellent moccasins, piercing the holeswith a sharpened bone bodkin, and passing the sinews of the deerthrough, as he had seen his father do, by fixing a stout fish-bone tothe deer-sinew thread. Thus he had an excellent substitute for aneedle; and, with the aid of the old file, he sharpened the point ofthe rusty nail, so that he was enabled, with a little trouble, todrill a hole in a bone needle for his cousin Catharine's use. Afterseveral attempts, he succeeded in making some of tolerable fineness, hardening them by exposure to a slow, steady degree of heat till shewas able to work with them, and even mend her clothes with tolerableexpertness. By degrees, Catharine contrived to cover the whole outersurface of her homespun woollen frock with squirrel and mink, musk-ratand woodchuck skins. A curious piece of fur patchwork of many hues andtextures it presented to the eye, --a coat of many colours, it is true;but it kept the wearer warm, and Catharine was not a little proud ofher ingenuity and industry, --every new patch that was added was asource of fresh satisfaction; and the moccasins that Louis fitted sonicely to her feet were great comforts. A fine skin that Hectorbrought triumphantly in one day, the spoil from a fox that had beencaught in one of his dead-falls, was in due time converted into adashing cap, the brush remaining as an ornament to hang down on oneshoulder. Catharine might have passed for a small Diana when she wentout, with her fur dress and bow and arrows, to hunt with Hector andLouis. 

Whenever game of any kind was killed, it was carefully skinned, andthe fur stretched upon bent sticks, being first turned, so as topresent the inner part to the drying action of the air. The younghunters were most expert in this work, having been accustomed for manyyears to assist their fathers in preparing the furs which theydisposed of to the fur traders, who visited them from time to time, and gave them various articles in exchange for their peltries, --suchas powder and shot, and cutlery of different kinds, as knives, scissors, needles, and pins, with gay calico and cotton handkerchiefsfor the women. 

As the evenings lengthened, the boys employed themselves with carvingwooden platters. Knives, and forks, and spoons they fashioned out ofthe larger bones of the deer, which they often found bleaching in thesun and wind, where they had been left by their enemies the wolves;baskets too they made, and birch dishes, which they could now finishso well that they held water or any liquid. But their great want wassome vessel that would bear the heat of the fire; the tin pot was sosmall that it could be made little use of in the cooking way. Catharine had made tea of the leaves of the sweet fern, --a gracefulwoody fern, with a fine aromatic scent, like nutmegs. [Footnote:Comptoma asplenifolia, a small shrub of the sweet gale family. ] Thisshrub is highly esteemed among the Canadians as a beverage, and alsoas a remedy against the ague. It grows in great abundance on dry sandylands and wastes, by waysides. 

"If we could but make some sort of earthen pot that would stand theheat of the fire, " said Louis, "we might get on nicely with cooking. "

But nothing like the sort of clay used by potters had been seen, andthey were obliged to give up that thought and content themselves withroasting or broiling their food. Louis, however, who was fond ofcontrivances, made an oven, by hollowing out a place near the hearthand lining it with stones, filling up the intervals with wood ashesand such clay as they could find, beaten into a smooth mortar. Suchcement answered very well, and the oven was heated by filling it withhot embers; these were removed when it was sufficiently heated, andthe meat or roots placed within the oven being covered over with aflat stone previously heated before the fire and covered with hotembers. This sort of oven had often been described by old Jacob as onein common use among some of the Indian tribes in the Lower Province, in which they cook small animals; they could bake bread also in thisoven, if they had had flour to use. [Footnote: This primitive oven ismuch like what voyagers have described as in use among the natives ofmany of the South Sea Islands. ]

Since the finishing of the house and furnishing it the young peoplewere more reconciled to their lonely life, and even entertaineddecided home feelings for their little log cabin. They never ceased, it is true, to talk of their parents, and brothers, and sisters, andwonder if all were well, and whether they still hoped for theirreturn, and to recall their happy days spent in the home which theynow feared they were destined never again to behold. Nevertheless, they were becoming each day more cheerful and more active. Ardentlyattached to each other, they seemed bound together by a yet moresacred tie of brotherhood. They were now all the world to one another, and no cloud of disunion came to mar their happiness. Hector'shabitual gravity and caution were tempered by Louis's lively vivacityand ardour of temper; and they both loved Catharine, and strove tosmooth as much as possible the hard life to which she was exposed, bythe most affectionate consideration for her comfort; and she, inreturn, endeavoured to repay them by cheerfully enduring allprivations, and making light of all their trials, and taking a livelyinterest in all their plans and contrivances. 

Louis had gone out to fish at the lake one autumn morning. During hisabsence a sudden squall of wind came on, accompanied with heavy rain. As he stayed longer than usual, Hector began to feel uneasy lest someaccident had befallen him, knowing his adventurous spirit, and that hehad for some days previous been busy constructing a raft of cedarlogs, which he had fastened together with wooden pins. This raft hehad nearly finished, and was even talking of adventuring over to thenearest island to explore it, and see what game and roots and fruitsit afforded. 

Bidding Catharine stay quietly within doors till his return, Hectorran off, not without some misgivings of evil having befallen his rashcousin, which fears he carefully concealed from his sister, as he didnot wish to make her needlessly anxious. When he reached the shore, his mind was somewhat relieved by seeing the raft on the beach, justas it had been left the night before; but neither Louis nor the axewas to be seen, nor the fishing-rod and line. 

"Perhaps, " thought he, "Louis has gone further down, to the mouth ofthe little creek in the flat east of this, where we caught our lastfish; or maybe he has gone up to the old place at Pine-tree Point. "

While he yet stood hesitating within himself which way to turn, heheard steps as of some one running, and perceived his cousin hurryingthrough the bushes in the direction of the shanty. It was evident byhis disordered air; and the hurried glances that he cast over hisshoulder from time to time, that something unusual had occurred todisturb him. 

"Holloa, Louis! is it a bear, wolf, or catamount that is on yourtrail?" cried Hector; almost amused by the speed with which his cousinhurried onward. "Why, Louis, whither away?"

Louis now turned and held up his hand, as if to enjoin silence, tillHector came up to him. 

"Why, man, what ails you? what makes you run as if you were hunteddown by a pack of wolves?"

"It is not wolves, or bears either, " said Louis, as soon as he couldget breath to speak; "but the Indians are all on Bare Hill, holding awar-council, I suppose, for there are several canoe-loads of them. "

"How came you to see them?"

"I must tell you that when I parted from you and Cathy, instead ofgoing down to my raft, as I thought at first I would do, I followedthe deer-path through the little ravine, and then ascending the sideof the valley, I crossed the birch grove, and kept down the slopewithin sight of the creek. While I was looking out upon the lake, andthinking how pretty the islands were, rising so green from the bluewater, I was surprised by seeing several dark spots dotting the lake. At first, you may be sure, I thought they must be a herd of deer, onlythey kept too far apart, so I sat down on a log to watch, thinking ifthey turned out to be deer I would race off for you and Wolfe, and thebows and arrows, that we might try our chance for some venison; but asthe black specks came nearer and nearer, I perceived they were canoeswith Indians in them, three in each. One made for the mouth of thecreek, and ran ashore among the thick bushes, while the others keptfurther along the shore. I watched them with a beating heart, and laydown flat, lest they should spy me out; for those fellows have eyeslike catamounts, so keen and wild--they see everything without seemingto cast a glance on it. After closely examining what I suppose was oneof our footmarks, I saw them wind up the ridge till they reached theBare Hill. [Footnote: Supposed to be a council-hill. It is known bythe name of Bare Hill, from the singular want of verdure on itssurface, It is one of the steepest on the ridge above the littlecreek; being a picturesque object, with its fine pine-trees, seen fromMr. Hayward's grounds, and forms, I believe, a part of his property. ]You remember that spot; we called it so from its barren appearance. Ina few minutes a column of smoke rose and curled among the pine-trees, and then another and another, till I counted five fires burningbrightly; and, as I stood on the high ground, I could distinguish thefigures of many naked savages moving about, running to and fro like aparcel of black ants on a cedar log; and by-and-by I heard them raisea yell like a pack of ravenous wolves on a deer track. It made myheart leap up in my breast. I forgot all the schemes that had just gotinto my wise head of slipping quietly down and taking off one of theempty birch canoes, which you must own would have been a gloriousthing for us; but when I heard the noise these wild wretches raised, Idarted off, and ran as if the whole set were at my heels. I think Ijust saved my scalp. " And Louis put his hand to his head, and tuggedhis thick black curls, as if to ascertain that they were still safefrom the scalping-knives of his Indian enemies. 

"And now, Hec, what is to be done? We must hide ourselves from theIndians; they will kill us, or take us away with them, if they findus. "

"Let us go home and talk over our plans with Cathy. "

"Yes; for I have heard my father say two heads are better than one, and so three of course must be still better than two. "

"Why, " said Hector, laughing, "it depends upon the stock of practicalwisdom in the heads; for two fools, you know, Louis, will hardly formone rational plan. "

Various were the schemes devised for their security. Hector proposedpulling down the shanty and dispersing the logs, so as to leave notrace of the little dwelling; but to this neither his cousin nor hissister would agree. To pull down the new house that had cost them somuch labour, and which had proved such a comfort to them, they couldnot endure even in idea. 

"Let us put out the fire, and hide ourselves in the big ravine belowMount Ararat; dig a cave in one of the hills, and convey our householdgoods thither. " Such was Louis's plan. 

"The ravines would be searched directly, " suggested Hector; "besides, the Indians know they are famous coverts for deer and game of allsorts: they might chance to pop upon us, and catch us like woodchucksin a burrow. "

"Yes, and burn us, " said Catharine with a shudder. "I know the paththat leads direct to the 'Happy Valley, ' (the name she had given tothe low flat now known as the 'Lower Race-course'), and it is not farfrom here, only ten minutes' walk in a straight line. We can concealourselves below the steep bank that we descended the other day; andthere are several springs of fresh water, and plenty of nuts andberries; and the trees, though few, are so thickly covered withclose-spreading branches that touch the very ground that we might hideourselves from a hundred eyes, were they ever so cunning and prying. "

Catharine's counsel was deemed the most prudent, and the boysimmediately busied themselves with hiding under the broken branches ofa prostrate tree such articles as they could not conveniently carryaway, leaving the rest to chance. With the most valuable they loadedthemselves, guided by Catharine, who, with her dear old dog, marchedforward along the narrow footpath that had been made by some wildanimals, probably deer, in their passage from the lake to theirfeeding-place, or favourite covert, on the low sheltered plain, where, being quite open, and almost, in parts, free from trees, the grass andherbage was sweeter and more abundant, and the springs of water werefresh and cool. 

Catharine cast many a fearful glance through the brushwood as theymoved onward, but saw no living thing, excepting a family of chitmunksgaily chasing each other along a fallen branch, and a covey of quailsthat were feeding quietly on the red berries of the _Mitchellarepens_, or twinberry, [Footnote: Also partridge-berry andchecker-berry, a lovely creeping winter-green, with white fragrantflowers and double scarlet berry. ] as it is commonly called, of whichthe partridges and quails are extremely fond; for Nature with aliberal hand has spread abroad her bounties for the small denizens, furred or feathered, that haunt the Rice Lake and its flowery shores. 

After a continued but gentle ascent through the oak opening, theyhalted at the foot of a majestic pine, and looked round them. It was alovely spot as any they had seen: from west to east, the lake, bendinglike a silver crescent, lay between the boundary hills of foresttrees; in front, the long lines of undulating wood-covered heightsfaded away into mist, and blended with the horizon. To the east, adeep and fertile valley lay between the high lands on which theyrested and the far ridge of oak hills. From their vantage height theycould distinguish the outline of the Bare Hill, made more distinct byits flickering fires and the smoke wreaths that hung like apearly-tinted robe among the dark pines that grew upon its crest. Notlong tarrying did our fugitives make, though perfectly safe fromdetection by the distance and their shaded position, for many awinding vale and wood-crowned height lay between them and theencampment. 

But fear is not subject to the control of reason, and in the presentinstance it invested the dreaded Indians with superhuman powers ofsight and of motion. A few minutes' hasty flight brought ourtravellers to the brow of a precipitous bank, nearly a hundred feetabove the level open plain which they sought. Here, then, they feltcomparatively safe: they were out of sight of the camp-fires, the spotthey had chosen was open, and flight, in case of the approach of theIndians, not difficult, while hiding-places were easy of access. Theyfound a deep, sheltered hollow in the bank, where two mighty pines hadbeen torn up by the roots, and prostrated headlong down the steep, forming a regular cave, roofed by the earth and fibres that had beenuplifted in their fall. Pendent from these roots hung a luxuriantcurtain of wild grape-vines and other creepers, which formed a leafyscreen, through which the most curious eye could scarcely penetrate. This friendly vegetable veil seemed as if provided for theirconcealment, and they carefully abstained from disturbing the pendentfoliage, lest they should, by so doing, betray their hiding-place totheir enemies. They found plenty of long grass, and abundance of longsoft green moss and ferns near a small grove of poplars whichsurrounded a spring of fine water. They ate some dried fruit andsmoked fish, and drank of the clear spring; and after they had saidtheir evening prayers, they lay down to sleep, Catharine's headpillowed on the neck of her faithful guardian, Wolfe. In the middle ofthe night a startling sound, as of some heavy body falling, wakenedthem all simultaneously. The night was so dark they could see nothing, and, terror-stricken, they sat gazing into the impenetrable darknessof their cave, not even daring to speak to each other, hardly even tobreathe. Wolfe gave a low grumbling bark, and resumed his couchantposture, as if nothing worthy of his attention was near to cause thedisturbance. Catharine trembled and wept, and prayed for safetyagainst the Indians and beasts of prey; and Hector and Louis listened, till they fell fast asleep in spite of their fears. In the morning, itseemed as if they had dreamed some terrible dream, so vague were theirrecollections of the fright they had had; but the cause was soonperceived. A large stone that had been heaved up with the clay thatadhered to the roots and fibres had been loosened, and had fallen onthe ground, close to the spot where Catharine lay. So ponderous wasthe mass, that had it struck her, death must have been the consequenceof the blow; and Hector and Louis beheld it with fear and amazement, while Catharine regarded it as a proof of Divine mercy and protectionfrom Him in whose hand her safety lay. The boys, warned by thisaccident, carefully removed several large stones from the roof, andtried the safety of the clay walls with a stout staff, to ascertainthat all was secure, before they again ventured to sleep beneath thisrugged canopy. 

CHAPTER V. 

"The soul of the wicked desireth evil: his neighbour findeth no favourin his eyes. "--_Proverbs. _

For several days they abstained from lighting a fire, lest the smokeshould be seen; but this the great height of the bank would haveeffectually prevented. They suffered much cold at night from thecopious dew, which, even on sultry summer evenings, is productive ofmuch chilling. They could not account for the fact that the air atnight was much warmer on the high hills than in the low valleys; theywere even sensible of a rush of heat as they ascended to the higherground. These simple children had not been taught that it is thenature of the heated air to ascend, and its place to be supplied bythe colder and denser particles. They noticed the effects, butunderstood nothing of the causes that ruled them. 

The following days they procured several partridges, but feared tocook them; however, they plucked them, split them open, and dried theflesh for a future day. A fox or raccoon, attracted by the smell ofthe birds, came one night and carried them off, for in the morningthey were gone. They saw several herd of deer crossing the plain, andone day Wolfe tracked a wounded doe to a covert under the poplars, near a hidden spring, where she had lain herself down to die in peace, far from the haunts of her fellows. The arrow was in her throat; itwas of white flint, and had evidently been sent from an Indian bow. Itwas almost with fear and trembling that they availed themselves of thevenison thus providentially thrown in their way, lest the Indiansshould track the blood of the doe, and take vengeance on them forappropriating it for their own use. Not having seen anything of theIndians, who seemed to confine themselves to the neighbourhood of thelake, after many days had passed they began to take courage, and evenventured to light an evening fire, at which they cooked as much of thevenison as would last them for several days, and hung the remainingportions above the smoke to preserve it from injury. 

One morning Hector proclaimed his intention of ascending the hills inthe direction of the Indian camp. "I am tired of remaining shut up inthis dull place, where we can see nothing but this dead-flat, boundedby those melancholy pines in the distance that seem to shut us in. "

Little did Hector know that beyond that dark ridge of pine hills laythe home of their childhood, and but a few miles of forest intervenedto hide it from their sight. Had he known it, how eagerly would hisfeet have pressed onward in the direction of that dark barrier ofevergreens!

Thus is it often in this life: we wander on, sad and perplexed, ourpath beset with thorns and briers. We cannot see our way clear; doubtsand apprehensions assail us. We know not how near we are to thefulfilment of our wishes; we see only the insurmountable barriers, thedark thickets and thorns of our way; and we know not how near we areto our Father's home, where he is waiting to welcome the wanderers ofthe flock back to the everlasting home, the fold of the Good Shepherd. 

Hector became impatient of the restraint that the dread of the Indiansimposed upon his movements; he wanted to see the lake again, and toroam abroad free and uncontrolled. 

"After all, " said he we never met with any ill-treatment from theIndians that used to visit us at Cold Springs; we may even find oldfriends and acquaintances among them. "

"The thing is possible, but not very likely, " replied Louis. "Nevertheless, Hector, I would not willingly put myself in theirpower. The Indian has his own notion of things, and might thinkhimself quite justified in killing us if he found us on hishunting-grounds. I have heard my father say--and he knows a great dealabout these people--that their chiefs are very strict in punishing anystrangers that they find killing game on their bounds uninvited. Theyare both merciless and treacherous when angered, and we could not evenspeak to them in their own language, to explain by what evil chance wecame here. "

This was very prudent of Louis, uncommonly so, for one who wasnaturally rash and headstrong; but unfortunately Hector was inflexibleand wilful. When once he had made up his mind upon any point, he hadtoo good an opinion of his own judgment to give it up. At last hedeclared his intention, rather than remain a slave to such cowardlyfears as he now deemed them, to go forth boldly, and endeavour toascertain what the Indians were about, how many there were of them, and what real danger was to be apprehended from facing them. 

"Depend upon it, " he added, "cowards are never safer than brave men. The Indians despise cowards, and would be more likely to kill us ifthey found us cowering here in this hole like a parcel of wolf-cubs, than if we openly faced them and showed that we neither feared themnor cared for them. "

"Hector, dear Hector, be not so rash!" cried his sister, passionatelyweeping. "Ah! if we were to lose you, what would become of us?"

"Never fear, Kate; I will run into no needless danger. I know how totake care of myself. I am of opinion that the Indian camp is brokenup; they seldom stay long in one place. I will go over the hills andexamine the camp at a distance and the lake shore. You and Louis maykeep watch for my return from the big pine that we halted under on ourway hither. "

"But, Hector, if the savages should see you, and take you prisoner, "said Catharine, "what would you do?"

"I will tell you what I would do. Instead of running away, I wouldboldly walk up to them, and by signs make them understand that I am noscout, but a friend in need of nothing but kindness and friendship. Inever yet heard of the Indian that would tomahawk the defencelessstranger that sought his camp openly in peace and goodwill. "

"If you do not return by sunset, Hector, we shall believe that youhave fallen into the hands of the savages, " said Catharine, mournfullyregarding her brother. 

"If it were not for Catharine, " said Louis, "you should not go alone;but if evil were to befall this helpless one, her blood would be uponmy head, who led her out with us, tempting her with false words. "

"Never mind that now, dearest cousin, " said Catharine, tenderly layingher hand on his arm. "It is much better that we should have been allthree together; I should never have been happy again if I had lostboth Hec and you. It is better as it is; you and Hec would not havebeen so well off if I had not been with you to help you, and keep upyour spirits by my songs and stories. "

"It is true; ma chere; but that is the reason that I am bound to takecare of my little cousin, and I could not consent to exposing you todanger, or leaving you alone; so, if Hec will be so headstrong, I willabide by you. "

Hector was so confident that he should return in safety, that at lastLouis and Catharine became more reconciled to his leaving them, andsoon busied themselves in preparing some squirrels that Louis hadbrought in that morning. 

The day wore away slowly, and many were the anxious glances thatCatharine cast over the crest of the high bank to watch for herbrother's return. At last, unable to endure the suspense, she withLouis left the shelter of the valley; they ascended the high ground, and bent their steps to the trysting-tree, which commanded all thecountry within a wide sweep. 

A painful and oppressive sense of loneliness and desolation came overthe minds of the cousins as they sat together at the foot of the pine, which cast its lengthened shadow upon the ground before them. Theshades of evening were shrouding them, wrapping the lonely forest ingloom. The full moon had not yet risen, and they watched for the firstgleam that should break above the eastern hills to cheer them as forthe coming of a friend. 

Sadly these two poor lonely ones sat hand in hand, talking of thehappy days of childhood, of the perplexing present and the uncertainfuture. At last, wearied out with watching and anxiety, Catharineleaned her head upon the neck of old Wolfe and fell asleep, whileLouis restlessly paced to and fro in front of the sleeper; nowstraining his eyes to penetrate the surrounding gloom, now straininghis ears to catch the first sound that might indicate the approach ofhis absent cousin. 

It was almost with a feeling of irritability that he heard the quicksharp note of the wakeful "whip-poor-will, " as it flew from bough tobough of an old withered tree beside him. Another, and again anotherof these midnight watchers took up the monotonous never-varying cry of"Whip-poor-will, Whip-poor-will;" and then came forth, from many ahollow oak and birch, the spectral night-hawk from hidden dens, whereit had lain hushed in silence all day from dawn till sunset. Sometimestheir sharp hard wings almost swept his cheek as they wheeled roundand round in circles, first narrow, then wide, and wider extending, till at last they soared far above the tallest tree-tops, andlaunching out in the high regions of the air, uttered from time totime a wild shrill scream, or hollow booming sound, as they suddenlydescended to pounce with wide-extended throat upon some hapless mothor insect that sported all unheeding in mid-air, happily unconsciousof the approach of so unerring a foe. 

Petulantly Louis chid these discordant minstrels of the night, andjoyfully he hailed the first gush of moonlight that rose broad andfull and red over the Oak Hills to the eastward. 

Louis envied the condition of the unconscious sleeper, who lay inhappy forgetfulness of all her sorrows, her fair curls spread inunbound luxuriance over the dark shaggy neck of the faithful Wolfe, who seemed as if proud of the beloved burden that rested so trustinglyupon him. Sometimes the careful dog just unclosed his large eyes, raised his nose from his shaggy paws, snuffed the night air, growledin a sort of undertone, and then dozed again, but watchfully. 

It would be no easy task to tell the painful feelings that agitatedyoung Louis's breast. He was angry with Hector for having thus madly, as he thought, rushed into danger. "It was wilful and almost cruel, "he thought, "to leave them the prey of such tormenting fears on hisaccount;" and then the most painful fears for the safety of hisbeloved companion took the place of less kindly thoughts, and sorrowfilled his heart. The broad moon now flooded the hills and vales withlight, casting broad checkering shadows of the old oaks' gray branchesand now reddened foliage across the ground. 

Suddenly the old dog raises his head, and utters a short half-angrynote: slowly and carefully he rises, disengaging himself gently fromthe form of the sleeping girl, and stands forth in the full light ofthe moon. It is an open cleared space, that mound beneath thepine-tree; a few low shrubs and seedling pines, with the slenderwaving branches of the late-flowering pearly-tinted asters, theelegant fringed gentian with open bells of azure blue, the last andloveliest of autumn flowers and winter-greens, brighten the groundwith wreaths of shining leaves and red berries. 

Louis is on the alert, though as yet he sees nothing. It is not a fullfree note of welcome that Wolfe gives; there is something uneasy andhalf angry in his tone. Yet it is not fierce, like the bark of angrydefiance he gives when wolf, or bear, or wolverine is near. 

Louis steps forward from the shadow of the pine branches to the edgeof the inclined plane in the foreground. The slow tread of approachingsteps is now distinctly heard advancing; it may be a deer. 

Two figures approach, and Louis moves a little within the shadowagain. A clear shrill whistle meets his ear. It is Hector's whistle, he knows that, and assured by its cheerful tone, he springs forward, and in an instant is at his side, but starts at the strange companionthat he half leads, half carries. The moonlight streams broad andbright upon the shrinking figure of an Indian girl apparently aboutthe same age as Catharine: her ashy face is concealed by the long massof raven black hair which falls like a dark veil over her features;her step is weak and unsteady, and she seems ready to sink to theearth with sickness or fatigue. Hector, too, seems weary. The firstwords that Hector said were, "Help me, Louis, to lead this poor girlto the foot of the pine: I am so tired I can hardly walk anotherstep. "

Louis and his cousin together carried the Indian girl to the foot ofthe pine. Catharine was just rousing herself from sleep, and she gazedwith a bewildered air on the strange companion that Hector had broughtwith him. The stranger lay down, and in a few minutes sank into asleep so profound it seemed to resemble that of death itself. Pity anddeep interest soon took the place of curiosity and dread in the heartof the gentle Catharine, and she watched the young stranger's slumberas tenderly as though she had been a sister or beloved friend, whileHector proceeded to relate in what manner he had encountered theIndian girl. 

"When I struck the high slope near the little birch grove we calledthe '_Birken Skaw_, ' I paused to examine if the council-fireswere still burning on Bare Hill; but there was no smoke visible, neither was there a canoe to be seen at the lake shore where Louis haddescribed their landing-place at the mouth of the creek. All seemed assilent and still as if no human footstep had trodden the shore. I satdown and watched for nearly an hour, till my attention was attractedby a noble eagle, which was sailing in wide circles over the tallpine-trees on Bare Hill. Assured that the Indian camp was broken up, and feeling some curiosity to examine the spot more closely, I crossedthe thicket of cranberries and cedars and small underwood that fringedthe borders of the little stream, and found myself, after a littlepushing and scrambling, among the bushes at the foot of the hill. 

"I thoughts it not impossible I might find something to repay me formy trouble, flint arrowheads, a knife, or a tomahawk; but I littlethought of what these cruel savages had left there, --a miserablewounded captive, bound by the long locks of her hair to the stem of asmall tree! Her hands and feet were fastened by thongs of deer-skin tobranches of the tree, which had been bent downward for that purpose. Her position was a most painful one. She had evidently been thus leftto perish by a miserable death of hunger and thirst; for thesesavages, with a fiendish cruelty, had placed within sight of theirvictim an earthen jar of water, some dried deers' flesh, and a cob[Footnote: A head of the maize, or Indian corn, is called a "cob. "] ofIndian corn. I have the corn here, " he added, putting his hand in hisbreast and displaying it to view. 

"Wounded she was, for I drew this arrow from her shoulder, " and heshowed the flint head as he spoke, "and fettered. With food and drinkin sight the poor girl was to perish, perhaps to become a living preyto the eagle that I saw wheeling above the hill-top. The poor thing'slips were black and parched with pain and thirst. She turned her eyespiteously from my face to the water-jar, as if to implore a draught. This I gave her; and then having cooled the festering wound, and cutthe thongs that bound her, I wondered that she still kept the sameimmovable attitude, and thinking she was stiff and cramped withremaining so long bound in one position, I took her two hands andtried to induce her to move. I then for the first time noticed thatshe was tied by the hair of her head to the tree against which herback was placed. I was obliged to cut the hair with my knife; and thisI did not do without giving her pain, as she moaned impatiently. Shesank her head on her breast, and large tears fell over my hands as Ibathed her face and neck with the water from the jar. She then seatedherself on the ground, and remained silent and still for the space ofan hour; nor could I prevail upon her to speak, or quit the seat shehad taken. Fearing that the Indians might return, I watched in alldirections, and at last I began to think it would be best to carry herin my arms; but this I found no easy task, for she seemed greatlydistressed at any attempt I made to lift her, and by her gestures Ifancied she thought I was going to kill her. At least my patiencebegan to be exhausted, but I did not like to annoy her. I spoke to heras gently and soothingly as I could. By degrees she seemed to listenwith more composure to me, though she evidently knew not a word ofwhat I said to her. She rose at last, and taking my hands, placed themabove her head, stooping low as she did so; and this seemed to meanshe was willing at last to submit to my wishes. I lifted her from theground and carried her for some little way; but she was too heavy forme. She then suffered me to lead her along whithersoever I would takeher; but her steps were so slow and feeble through weakness, that manytimes I was compelled to rest while she recovered herself. She seemsquite subdued now, and as quiet as a lamb. "

Catharine listened, not without tears of genuine sympathy, to therecital of her brother's adventures. She seemed to think he had beeninspired by God to go forth that day to the Indian camp to rescue thepoor forlorn one from so dreadful a death. 

Louis's sympathy was also warmly aroused for the young savage, and hecommended Hector for his bravery and humanity. 

He then set to work to light a good fire, which was a great additionto their comfort as well as cheerfulness. They did not go back totheir cave beneath the upturned trees to sleep, preferring lying, withtheir feet to the fire, under the shade of the pine. Louis, however, was despatched for water and venison for supper. 

The following morning, by break of day, they collected their stores, and conveyed them back to the shanty. The boys were thus employedwhile Catharine watched beside the wounded Indian girl, whom shetended with the greatest care. She bathed the inflamed arm with water, and bound, the cool healing leaves of the _tacamahac_ [Footnote:Indian balsam. ] about it with the last fragment of her apron; shesteeped dried berries in water, and gave the cooling drink to quenchthe fever-thirst that burned in her veins and glittered in her fullsoft melancholy dark eyes, which were raised at intervals to the raceof her youthful nurse with a timid hurried glance, as if she longedyet feared to say, "Who are you that thus tenderly bathe my achinghead, and strive to soothe my wounded limbs, and cool my feveredblood? Are you a creature like myself, or a being sent by the GreatSpirit from the far-off happy land to which my fathers have gone, tosmooth my path of pain, and lead me to those blessed fields ofsunbeams and flowers where the cruelty of the enemies of my peoplewill no more have power to torment me?"

CHAPTER VI

 "Here the wren of softest note Builds its nest and warbles well, Here the blackbird strains his throat Welcome, welcome to our cell. "

 --COLERIDGE. 

The day was far advanced before the sick Indian girl could be broughthome to their sylvan lodge, where Catharine made up a comfortablecouch for her with boughs and grass, and spread one of the deer-skinsover it, and laid her down as tenderly and carefully as if she hadbeen a dear sister. This good girl was overjoyed at having found acompanion of her own age and sex. "Now, " said she, "I shall no more belonely, I shall have a companion and friend to talk to and assist me. "But when she turned in the fulness of her heart to address herself tothe young stranger, she felt herself embarrassed in what way to makeher comprehend the words she used to express the kindness that shefelt for her and her sorrow for her sufferings. 

The young stranger would raise her head, look intently at her as ifstriving to interpret her words, then sadly shake her head, and utterher words in her own plaintive language, but, alas! Catharine felt itwas to her as a sealed book. 

She tried to recall some Indian words of familiar import that she hadheard from the Indians when they came to her father's house, but invain. Not the simplest phrase occurred to her, and she almost criedwith vexation at her own stupidity. Neither was Hector or Louis morefortunate in attempts at conversing with their guest. 

At the end of three days the fever began to abate; the restless eyegrew more steady in its gaze, the dark flush faded from the cheek, leaving it of a gray ashy tint, not the hue of health, such as eventhe swarthy Indian shows, but wan and pallid, her eyes bent mournfullyon the ground. 

She would sit quiet and passive while Catharine bound up the longtresses of her hair, and smoothed them with her hands and the smallwooden comb that Louis had cut for her use. Sometimes she would raiseher eyes to her new friend's face with a quiet sad smile, and once shetook her hands within her own and gently pressed them to her breastand lips and forehead, in token of gratitude; but she seldom gaveutterance to any words, and would remain with her eyes fixed vacantlyon some object which seemed unseen, or to awaken no idea in her mind. At such times the face of the young squaw, wore a dreamy apathy ofexpression, or rather it might with more propriety have been said theabsence of all expression, almost as blank as that of an infant of afew weeks old. 

How intently did Catharine study that face, and strive to read whatwas passing within her mind! How did the lively intelligent Canadiangirl, the offspring of a more intellectual race, long to instruct herIndian friend, to enlarge her mind by pointing out such things to herattention as she herself took interest in! She would then repeat thename of the object that she showed her several times over, and bydegrees the young squaw learned the names of all the familiarhousehold articles about the shanty, and could repeat them in her ownsoft plaintive tone; and when she had learned a new word, and couldpronounce it distinctly, she would laugh, and a gleam of innocent joyand pleasure would lighten up her fine dark eyes, generally so fixedand sad-looking. 

It was Catharine's delight to teach her pupil to speak a languagefamiliar to her own ears. She would lead her out among the trees, andname to her all the natural objects that presented themselves to view. And she in her turn mae "Indiana" (for so they named the young squaw, after a negress that she had heard her father tell of, a nurse to oneof his colonel's infant children) tell her the Indian names for eachobject they saw. Indiana soon began to enjoy in her turn the amusementarising from instructing Catharine and the boys, and often seemed toenjoy the blunders they made in pronouncing the words she taught them. When really interested in anything that was going on, her eyes wouldbeam out, and her smile gave an inexpressible charm to her face; forher lips were red, and her teeth even and brilliantly white, so purelywhite that Catharine thought she had never seen any so beautiful inher life before. At such times her face was joyous and innocent as alittle child's; but there were also hours of gloom, that transformedit into an expression of sullen apathy. Then a dull glassy look tookpossession of her eye, the full lip drooped and the form seemed rigidand stiff. Obstinate determination neither to move nor speakcharacterized her in what Louis used to call the young squaw's "darkhour. " Then it was that the savage nature seemed predominant, and hergentle nurse almost feared to look at her _protegee_ or approachher. 

"Hector, " said Louis, "you spoke about a jar of water being left atthe camp. The jar would be a great treasure to us. Let us go over forit. " Hector assented to the proposal. "And we may possibly pick up afew grains of Indian corn, to add to what you showed us. "

"If we are here in the spring, " said Hector, "you and I will prepare asmall patch of ground and plant it with this corn;" and he sat down onthe end of a log and began carefully to count the rows of grain on thecob, and then each corn, grain by grain. "Three hundred and ten soundgrains. Now if every one of these produce a strong plant, we shallhave a great increase, and besides seed for another year, there willbe, if it is a good year, several bushels to eat. "

"We shall have a glorious summer, mon ami, no doubt, and a fineflourishing crop; and Kate is a good hand at making supporne. "[Footnote: Supporne probably an Indian word for a stirabout, orporridge, made of Indian meal, a common dish in every Canadian orYankee farmer's house. ]

"You forget we have no porridge pot. "

"I was thinking of that Indian jar all the time. You will see whatfine cookery we will make when we get it, if it will but stand fire. Come, let us be off; I am impatient till we get it home;" and Louis, who had now a new crotchet at work in his fertile and vivacious brain, walked and danced along at a rate which proved a great disturbance tohis graver companion, who tried to keep down his cousin's livelyspirits by suggesting the probability of the jar being cracked, orthat the Indians might have returned for it; but Louis was not one ofthe doubting sort, and was right in not damping the ardour of his mindby causeless fears. The jar was there at the deserted camp, and thoughit had been knocked over by some animal, it was sound and strong, andexcited great speculation in the two cousins as to the particularmaterial of which it was made, as it was unlike any sort of potterythey had ever before seen. It seemed to have been manufactured fromsome very dark red earth, or clay mixed up with pounded granite, as itpresented the appearance of some coarse crystals. It was very hard andponderous, and the surface was marked over in a rude sort of pattern, as if punctured and scratched with some pointed instrument. It seemedto have been hardened by fire, and, from the smoked hue of one side, had evidently done good service as a cooking utensil. Subsequentlythey learned the way in which it was used. [Footnote: Pieces of thisrude pottery are often found along the shores of the inland lakes, butI have never met with any of the perfect vessels in use with theIndians, who probably find it now easier to supply themselves withiron pots and crockery from the towns of the European settlers. ] Thejar, being placed near but not on the fire, was surrounded by hotembers, and the water made to boil by stones being made red hot andplunged into it. In this way soups and other food were prepared andkept stewing, with no further trouble, after once the simmering began, than adding a few fresh embers at the side farthest from the fire. Ahot stone, also, placed on the top, facilitated the cooking process. 

Louis, who like all French people was addicted to cookery, --indeed itwas an accomplishment he prided himself on, --was enchanted with theimprovement made in their diet by the acquisition of the said earthenjar, or pipkin, and gave Indiana some praise for initiating his cousinin the use of it. Catharine and Hector declared that he went out withhis bow and arrows, and visited his dead-falls and snares, ten timesoftener than he used to do, just for the sake of proving the admirableproperties of this precious utensil, and finding out some new way ofdressing his game. 

At all events, there was a valuable increase of furs, for making upinto clothing, caps, leggings, mitts, and other articles. 

From the Indian girl Catharine learned the value of many of the herbsand shrubs that grew in her path, the bark and leaves of varioustrees, and many dyes she could extract, with which she stained thequills of the porcupine and the strips of the wood of which she madebaskets and mats. The little creeping winter-green, [Footnote:Gaultheria procumbens, --spice winter-green. ] with its scarlet berries, that grows on the dry flats or sandy hills, which the Canadians callspice-berry, she showed them was good to eat; and she would crush theleaves, draw forth their fine aromatic flavour in her hands, and theninhale their fragrance with delight. She made an infusion of theleaves, and drank it as a tonic. The inner bark of the wild blackcherry she said was good to cure ague and fever. The root of thebitter-sweet she scraped down and boiled in the deer-fat, or the fatof any other animal, and made an ointment that possessed very healingqualities, especially as an immediate application to fresh burns. 

Sometimes she showed a disposition to mystery, and would conceal theknowledge of the particular herbs she made use of; and Catharineseveral times noticed that she would go out and sprinkle a portion ofthe food she had assisted her in preparing, on the earth, or undersome of the trees or bushes. When she was more familiar with theirlanguage, she told Catharine this was done in token of gratitude tothe Good Spirit, who had given them success in hunting or trapping; orelse it was to appease the malice of the Evil Spirit; who might bringmischief or loss to them, or sickness or death, unless his forbearancewas purchased by some particular mark of attention. 

Attention, memory, and imitation appeared to form the three mostremarkable of the mental faculties developed by the Indian girl. Sheexamined (when once her attention was roused) any object with criticalminuteness. Any knowledge she had once acquired she retained; hermemory was great, she never missed a path she had once trodden; sheseemed even to single out particular birds in a flock, to know themfrom their companions. Her powers of imitation were also great. Shebrought patience and perseverance to assist her: when once thoroughlyinterested in any work she began, she would toil on untiringly till itwas completed; and then what triumph shone in her eyes! At such timesthey became darkly brilliant with the joy that filled her heart. Butshe possessed little talent for invention; what she had seen done, after a few imperfect attempts, she could do again, but she rarelystruck out any new path for herself. 

At times she was docile and even playful, and appeared grateful forthe kindness with which she was treated, each day seemed to increaseher fondness for Catharine, and she appeared to delight in doing anylittle service to please and gratify her; but it was towards Hectorthat she displayed the deepest feeling of affection and respect. Itwas to him her first tribute of fruit, or flowers, furs, moccasins, orornamental plumage of rare birds, was offered. She seemed to turn tohim as to a master and protector. He was in her eyes the "_chief_, "the head of his tribe. His bow was strung by her, and stained withquaint figures and devices; his arrows were carved by her; the sheathof deer-skin he carried his knife in was made and ornamented by herhands; also, the case for his arrows, of birch-bark, she wrought withespecial neatness, and suspended by thongs to his neck when he waspreparing to go out in search of game. She gave him the name of the"Young Eagle, " while she called Louis "Nee-chee, " or "Friend, " toCatharine she gave the poetical name of "Music of the Winds, "--_Madwaosh_. 

When they asked her to tell them her own name, she would bend down herhead in sorrow and refuse to pronounce it. She soon answered to thename of Indiana, and seemed pleased with the sound. 

But of all the household, next to Hector, old Wolfe was her greatestfavourite. At first, it is true, the old dog regarded the new inmatewith a jealous eye, and seemed uneasy when he saw her approach tocaress him; but Indiana soon reconciled him to her person, and amutual friendly feeling became established between them, which seemeddaily and hourly to increase, greatly to the delight of the youngstranger. She would seat herself Eastern fashion, cross-legged on thefloor of the shanty, with the capacious head of the old dog in herlap, and address herself to this mute companion in wailing tones, asif she would unburden her heart by pouring into his unconscious earher tale of desolation and woe. 

Catharine was always very particular and punctual in performing herpersonal ablutions, and she intimated to Indiana that it was good forher to do the same. The young girl seemed reluctant to follow herexample, till daily custom had reconciled her to what she evidently atfirst regarded as an unnecessary ceremony; but she soon took pleasurein dressing her dark hair, and suffering Catharine to braid it andpolish it till it looked glossy and soft. Indiana in her turn wouldadorn Catharine with the wings of the blue-bird or red-bird, the crestof the wood-duck, or quill feathers of the golden-winged flicker, which is called in the Indian tongue the shot-bird, in allusion to theround spots on its cream-coloured breast. [Footnote: The golden-wingedflicker belongs to a sub-genus of woodpeckers, it is very handsome, and is said to be eatable, it lives on fruits and insects. ] It was notin these things alone she indicated her grateful sense of the sisterlykindness that her young hostess showed to her; she soon learned tolighten her labours in every household work, and above all, she spenther time most usefully in manufacturing clothing from the skins of thewild animals, and in teaching Catharine how to fit and prepare them:but these were the occupations of the winter months. 

CHAPTER VII. 

"Go to the ant. "--Proverbs. 

It was now the middle of September. The weather, which had continuedserene and beautiful for some time, with dewy nights and mistymornings, began to show symptoms of the change of season usual at theapproach of the equinox. Sudden squalls of wind, with hasty showers, would come sweeping over the lake; the nights and mornings were dampand chilly. Already the tints of autumn were beginning to crimson thefoliage of the oaks, and where the islands were visible, the splendidcolours of the maple shone out in gorgeous contrast with the deepverdure of the evergreens and light golden-yellow of the poplar; butlovely as they now looked, they had not yet reached the meridian oftheir beauty, which a few frosty nights at the close of the month weredestined to bring to perfection--a glow of splendour to gladden theeye for a brief space, before the rushing winds and rains of thefollowing month were to sweep them away and scatter them abroad uponthe earth. 

One morning, after a night of heavy rain and wind, the two boys wentdown to see if the lake was calm enough for trying the raft, whichLouis had finished before the coming on of the bad weather. The waterwas rough and crested with mimic waves, and they felt indisposed tolaunch the raft on so stormy a surface, but stood looking out over thelake and admiring the changing foliage, when Hector pointed out to hiscousin a dark speck dancing on the waters, between the two nearestislands. The wind, which blew very strong still from the north-east, brought the object nearer every minute. At first they thought it mightbe a pine-branch that was floating on the surface, when as it camebounding over the waves, they perceived that it was a birch canoe, butimpelled by no visible arm. It was a strange sight upon that lonelylake to see a vessel of any kind afloat, and, on first deciding thatit was a canoe, the boys were inclined to hide themselves among thebushes, for fear of the Indians; but curiosity got the better of theirfears. 

"The owner of yonder little craft is either asleep or absent from her;for I see no paddle, and it is evidently drifting without any one toguide it, " said Hector, after intently watching the progress of thetempest-driven canoe. Assured as it approached nearer that such wasthe case, they hurried to the beach just as a fresh gust had lodgedthe canoe among the branches of a fallen cedar which projected outsome way into the water. 

By creeping along the trunk of the tree, and trusting at times to theprojecting boughs, Louis, who was the most active and the lightest ofweight, succeeded in getting within reach of the canoe, and with sometrouble and the help of a stout branch that Hector handed to him, hecontrived to moor her in safety on the shore, taking the precaution ofhauling her well up on the shingle, lest the wind and water should sether afloat again. "Hec, there is something in this canoe, the sight ofwhich will gladden your heart, " cried Louis, with a joyful look. "Comequickly, and see my treasures!"

"Treasures! You may well call them treasures, " exclaimed Hector, as hehelped Louis to examine the contents of the canoe and place them onthe shore side by side. 

The boys could hardly find words to express their joy and surprise atthe discovery of a large jar of parched rice, a tomahawk, an Indianblanket almost as good as new, a large mat rolled up, with a bass-barkrope several yards in length wound round it, and, what was moreprecious than all, an iron three-legged pot in which was a quantity ofIndian corn. These articles had evidently constituted the stores ofsome Indian hunter or trapper: possibly the canoe had been imperfectlysecured, and had drifted from its moorings during the gale of theprevious night, unless by some accident the owner had fallen into thelake and been drowned. This was of course only a matter of conjectureon which it was useless to speculate, and the boys joyfully tookpossession of the good fortune that had so providentially been wafted, as it were, to their very feet. 

"It was a capital chance for us, that old cedar having been blown downlast night just where it was, " said Louis; "for if the canoe had notbeen drawn into the eddy, and stopped by the branches, we might havelost it. I trembled, when I saw the wind driving it on so rapidly, that it would founder in the deep water or go off to Long Island. "

"I think we should have got it at Pine-tree Point, " said Hector; "butI am glad it was lodged so cleverly among the cedar boughs. I was halfafraid you would have fallen in once or twice when you were trying todraw it nearer to the shore. "

"Never fear for me, my friend; I can cling like a wild cat when Iclimb. But what a grand pot! What delightful soups, and stews, andboils Catharine will make! Hurrah!" and Louis tossed up the new furcap he had made with great skill from an entire fox-skin, and cutsundry fantastic capers which Hector gravely condemned as unbecominghis mature age (Louis was turned of fifteen); but with the joyousspirit of a little child he sang and danced, and laughed and shouted, till the lonely echoes of the islands and far-off hills returned theunusual sounds, and even his more steady cousin caught the infectionand laughed to see Louis so elated. 

Leaving Hector to guard the prize, Louis ran gaily off to fetchCatharine to share his joy and come and admire the canoe, and theblanket, and the tripod, and the corn, and the tomahawk. Indianaaccompanied them to the lake shore, and long and carefully sheexamined the canoe and its contents, and many were the plaintiveexclamations she uttered as she surveyed the things piece by piece, till she took notice of the broken handle of an Indian paddle whichlay at the bottom of the vessel: this seemed to afford some solutionto her of the mystery, and by broken words and signs she intimatedthat the paddle had possibly broken in the hand of the Indian, andthat in endeavouring to regain the other part, he had lost his balanceand been drowned. She showed Hector a rude figure of a bird engravedwith some sharp instrument, and rubbed in with a blue colour. This shesaid was the totem or crest of the chief of the tribe, and was meantto represent a _crow_. The canoe had belonged to a chief of that name. 

While they were dividing the contents of the canoe among them to becarried to the shanty, Indiana, taking up the bass-rope and theblanket, bundled up the most of the things, and adjusting the broadthick part of the rope to the front of her head, she bore off theburden with as great apparent ease as a London or an Edinburgh porterwould his trunks and packages, turning round with a merry glance andrepeating some Indian words with a lively air as she climbed the steepbank, and soon distanced her companions, to her great delight. Thatnight Indiana cooked some of the parched rice, Indian fashion, withvenison, and they enjoyed the novelty very much; it made an excellentsubstitute for bread, of which they had been so long deprived. 

Indiana gave them to understand that the rice harvest would soon beready on the lake, and that now they had got a canoe, they would goout and gather it, and so lay by a store to last them for many months. 

This little incident furnished the inhabitants of the shanty withfrequent themes for discussion. Hector declared that the Indian cornwas the most valuable of their acquisitions. "It will insure us a cropand bread and seed-corn for many years, " he said. He also highlyvalued the tomahawk, as his axe was worn and blunt. Louis was dividedbetween the iron pot and the canoe. Hector seemed to think the raftmight have formed a substitute for the latter, besides, Indiana hadsignified her intention of helping him to make a canoe. Catharinedeclared in favour of the blanket, as it would make, after thoroughablutions, warm petticoats with tight bodices for herself and Indiana. With deer-skin leggings and a fur jacket, they should be comfortablyclad. Indiana thought the canoe the most precious, and was charmedwith the good jar and the store of rice; nor did she despise thepacking-rope, which she soon showed was of use in carrying burdensfrom place to place, Indian fashion. By placing a pad of soft fur infront of the head, she could carry heavy loads with great ease. Themat, she said, would be useful for drying the rice she meant to store. 

The next day after this adventure, the two girls set to work, and withthe help of Louis's large knife, which was called into requisition asa substitute for scissors, they cut out the blanket dresses, and in ashort time made two comfortable and not very unsightly garments. Thefull, short, plaited skirts reached a little below the knees; lightvests, bordered with fur, completed the upper part; and leggings, terminated at the ankles by knotted fringes of doeskin, with moccasinsturned over with a band of squirrel fur, completed the novel costume;and many a glance of innocent satisfaction did our young damsels castupon each other, when they walked forth in the pride of girlish vanityto display their dresses to Hector and Louis, who, for their part, regarded them as most skilful dressmakers, and were never tired ofadmiring and commending their ingenuity in the making and fitting, considering what rude implements they were obliged to use in thecutting out and sewing of the garments. 

The extensive rice-beds on the lake had now begun to assume a goldentinge, which contrasted very delightfully with the deep-blue waters, looking, when lighted up by the sunbeams, like islands ofgolden-coloured sand. The ears, heavy laden with the ripe grain, drooped towards; the water. The time of the rice-harvest was at hand, and with light and joyous hearts our young adventurers launched thecanoe, and, guided in their movements by the little squaw, paddled tothe extensive aquatic fields to gather it in, leaving Catharine andWolfe to watch their proceedings from the raft, which Louis hadfastened to a young tree that projected out over the lake, and whichmade a good landing-place, likewise a wharf where they could stand andfish very comfortably. As the canoe could not be overloaded on accountof the rice-gathering, Catharine very readily consented to employherself with fishing from the raft till their return. 

The manner of procuring the rice was very simple. One person steeredthe canoe with the aid of the paddle along the edge of the rice-beds, and another with a stick in one hand, and a curved sharp-edged paddlein the other, struck the heads off as they bent them over the edge ofthe stick; the chief art was in letting the heads fall into the canoe, which a little practice soon enabled them to do as expertly as themower lets the grass fall in ridges beneath his scythe. 

Many bushels of wild rice were thus collected. Nothing could be moredelightful than this sort of work to our young people, and merrilythey worked, and laughed and sang as they came home each day withtheir light bark laden with a store of grain which they knew wouldpreserve them from starving through the long, dreary winter that wascoming on. 

The canoe was a source of great comfort and pleasure to them. Theywere now able to paddle out into the deep water and fish formasquinonje and black bass, which they caught in great numbers. Indiana seemed quite another creature when, armed with a paddle of herown carving, she knelt at the head of the canoe and sent it flyingover the water; then her dark eyes, often so vacant and glassy, sparkled with delight, and her teeth gleamed with ivory whiteness asher face broke into smiles and dimples. 

It was delightful then to watch this child of nature, and see howinnocently happy she could be when rejoicing in the excitement ofhealthy exercise, and elated by a consciousness of the power shepossessed of excelling her companions in feats of strength and skillwhich they had yet to acquire by imitating her. 

Even Louis was obliged to confess that the young savage knew more ofthe management of a canoe, and the use of the bow and arrow and thefishing-line, than either himself or his cousin. Hector was lost inadmiration of her skill in all these things, and Indiana rose highlyin his estimation, the more he saw of her usefulness. 

"Every one to his craft, " said Louis, laughing. "The little squaw hasbeen brought up in the knowledge and practice of such matters from herbabyhood; perhaps if we were to set her to knitting and spinning, milking cows, and house-work, and learning to read, I doubt if shewould prove half as quick as Catharine or Mathilde. "

"I wonder if she knows anything of God or our Saviour, " said Hectorthoughtfully. 

"Who should have taught her? for the Indians are all heathens, "replied Louis. 

"I have heard my dear mother say the missionaries have taken greatpains to teach the Indian children about Quebec and Montreal, and thatso far from being stupid, they learn very readily, " said Catharine. 

"We must try and make Indiana learn to say her prayers. She sits quitestill, and seems to take no notice of what we are doing when we kneeldown before we go to bed, " observed Hector. 

"She cannot understand what we say, " said Catharine; "for she knows solittle of our language yet, that of course she cannot comprehend theprayers, which are in other sort of words than what we use in speakingof hunting, and fishing, and cooking, and such matters. "

"Well, when she knows more of our way of speaking, then we must teachher. It is a sad thing for Christian children to live with an untaughtpagan, " said Louis, who, being rather bigoted in his creed, felt asort of uneasiness in his own mind at the poor girl's total want ofthe rites of his church; but Hector and Catharine regarded herignorance with feelings of compassionate interest, and lost noopportunity of trying to enlighten her darkened mind on the subject ofbelief in the God who made and the Lord who saved them. Simply andearnestly they entered into the task as a labour of love; and thoughfor a long time Indiana seemed to pay little attention to what theysaid, by slow degrees the good seed took root and brought forth fruitworthy of Him whose Spirit poured the beams of spiritual light intoher heart. But my young readers must not imagine these things were thework of a day: the process was slow, and so were the results, but theywere good in the end. 

Catharine was glad when, after many months of patient teaching, theIndian girl asked permission to kneel down with her white friend andpray to the Great Spirit and his Son in the same words that ChristJesus gave to his disciples; and if the full meaning of that holyprayer, so full of humility and love and moral justice, was not fullyunderstood by her whose lips repeated it, yet even the act of worshipand the desire to do that which she had been told was right were, doubtless, sacrifices better than the pagan rites which that younggirl had witnessed among her father's people, who, blindly followingthe natural impulse of man in his depraved nature, regarded bloodshedand cruelty as among the highest of human virtues, and gloried inthose deeds of vengeance at which the Christian mind revolts withhorror. 

Indiana took upon herself the management of the rice, drying, husking, and storing it, the two lads working under her direction. She causedseveral forked stakes to be cut, sharpened, and driven into theground. On these were laid four poles, so as to form a frame. Over itshe stretched the bass-mat, which she secured by means of forked pegsto the frame. On the mat she then spread out the rice thinly, andlighted a fire beneath, taking good care not to let the flame set fireto the mat, the object being rather to keep up a strong, slow heat bymeans of the red embers. She next directed the boys to supply her withpine or cedar boughs, which she stuck in close together, so as toenclose the fire within the area of the stakes. This was done toconcentrate the heat and cause it to bear upwards with more power, therice being frequently stirred with a sort of long-handled, flatshovel. After the rice was sufficiently dried, the next thing to bedone was separating it from the husk. This was effected by putting it, in small quantities, into the iron pot, and with a sort of woodenpestle or beetle rubbing it round and round against the sides. [Footnote: The Indians often make use of a very rude, primitive sortof mortar, by hollowing out a bass-wood stump, and rubbing the ricewith a wooden pounder. ] If they had not had the iron pot, a woodentrough must have been substituted in its stead. 

When the rice was husked, the loose chaff was winnowed from it in aflat basket like a sieve; and it was then put by in coarse birchbaskets, roughly sewed with leather-wood bark, or bags made of mattingwoven by the little squaw from the cedar-bark. A portion was alsoparched, which was simply done by putting the rice dry into the ironpot, and setting it on hot embers, stirring the grain till it burst;it was then stored by for use. Rice thus prepared is eaten dry, as asubstitute for bread, by the Indians. 

The lake was now swarming with wild-fowl of various kinds: crowds ofducks were winging their way across it from morning till night, floating in vast flocks upon its surface, or rising in noisy groups ifan eagle or fish-hawk appeared sailing with slow, majestic circlesabove them, then settling down with noisy splash upon the calm water. The shores, too, were covered with these birds, feeding on the fallenacorns which fell ripe and brown with every passing breeze. 

The berries of the dogwood also furnished them with food; but the wildrice seemed the great attraction, and small shell-fish and the larvaeof many insects that had been dropped into the waters, there to cometo perfection in due season, or to form a provision for myriads ofwild-fowl that had come from the far north-west to feed upon them, guided by that instinct which has so beautifully been termed by one ofour modern poetesses, --

 "God's gift to the weak. " [Footnote: Mrs. Southey. ]

CHAPTER VIII. 

 "Oh, come and hear what cruel wrongs Befell the Dark Ladye"--COLERIDGE. 

The Mohawk girl was in high spirits at the coming of the wild-fowl tothe lake; she would clap her hands and laugh with almost childish gleeas she looked at them darkening the lake like clouds resting on itssurface. "If I had but my father's gun, his good old gun, now!" wouldHector say, as he eyed the timorous flocks as they rose and fell uponthe lake; "but these foolish birds are so shy they are away before anarrow can reach them. "

Indiana smiled in her quiet way; she was busy filling the canoe withgreen boughs, which she arranged so as completely to transform thelittle vessel into the semblance of a floating island of evergreen. Within this bower she motioned Hector to crouch down, leaving a smallspace for the free use of his bow; while concealed at the prow shegently and noiselessly paddled the canoe from the shore among therice-beds, letting it remain stationary or merely rocking to and frowith the undulatory motion of the waters. 

The unsuspecting birds, deceived into full security, eagerly pursuedtheir pastime or their prey, and it was no difficult matter for thehidden archer to hit many a black duck, or teal, or whistlewing, as itfloated securely on the placid water, or rose to shift its place a fewyards up or down the stream. Soon the lake around was strewed with thefeathered game, which Wolfe, cheered on by Louis who was stationed onthe shore, brought to land. 

Indiana told Hector that this was the season when the Indians madegreat gatherings on the lake for duck-shooting, which they pursuedmuch after the same fashion as that which has been described, onlyinstead of one, a dozen or more canoes would be thus disguised withboughs, with others stationed at different parts of the lake, or underthe shelter of the island, to collect the birds. This sport generallyconcluded with a great feast. 

The Indians offered the first of the birds as an oblation to the GreatSpirit, as a grateful acknowledgment of his bounty in having allowedthem to gather food thus plentifully for their families. Sometimesdistant tribes with whom they were on terms of friendship were invitedto share the sport and partake of the spoils. 

Indiana could not understand why Hector did not follow the custom ofher Indian fathers, and offer the first duck or the best fish topropitiate the Great Spirit. Hector told her that the God heworshipped desired no sacrifice; that his holy Son, when he came downfrom heaven and gave himself as a sacrifice for the sin of the world, had satisfied his Father, the Great Spirit, an hundredfold. 

They feasted now continually upon the water-fowl, and Catharinelearned from Indiana how to skin them, and so preserve the feathersfor making tippets, and bonnets, and ornamental trimmings, which arenot only warm, but light and very becoming. They split open the birdsthey did not require for present consumption, and dried them forwinter store, smoking some after the manner the Shetlanders and theOrkney people smoke the solan geese. Their shanty displayed anabundant store of provisions--fish, flesh, and fowl, besides basketsof wild rice and bags of dried fruit. 

One day Indiana came in from the brow of the hill, and told the boysthat the lake eastward was covered with canoes, she showed, by holdingup her two hands and then three fingers, that she had countedthirteen. The tribes had met for the annual duck-feast and therice-harvest. She advised them to put out the fire, so that no smokemight be seen to attract them, but said they would not leave the lakefor hunting over the plains just then, as the camp was lower down onthe point [Footnote: This point, commonly known as _Andersen's Point_, now the seat of an Indian village, used in former times to be a greatplace of rendezvous for the Indians, and was the scene of a murderouscarnage or massacre that took place about eighty years ago; the warweapons and bones of the Indians are often turned up with the ploughat this day. ] east of the mouth of a big river, which she called"Otonabee. "

Hector asked Indiana if she would go away and leave them in the eventof meeting with any of her own tribe. The girl cast her eyes on theearth in silence; a dark cloud seemed to gather over her face. 

"If they should prove to be any of your father's people, or a friendlytribe, would you go away with them?" he again repeated; to which shesolemnly replied, --

"Indiana has no father, no tribe, no people; no blood of her fatherwarms the heart of any man, woman, or child, saving herself alone. ButIndiana is a brave, and the daughter of a brave, and will not shrinkfrom danger: her heart is warm; red blood flows warm here, " and shelaid her hand on her heart. Then lifting up her hand, she said in slowbut impassioned tone, "They left not one drop of living blood to flowin any veins but these. " She raised her eyes, and stretched her armsupwards toward heaven, as though calling down vengeance on themurderers of her father's house. 

"My father was a Mohawk, the son of a great chief, who owned thesehunting-grounds far as your eye can see to the rising and setting sun, along the big waters of the big lakes; but the Ojebwas, a portion ofthe Chippewa nation, by treachery cut off my father's people byhundreds in cold blood, when they were defenceless and at rest. It wasa bloody day and a bloody deed. "

Instead of hiding herself, as Hector and Louis strongly advised theyoung Mohawk to do, she preferred remaining, as a scout, she said, under the cover of the bushes on the edge of the steep that overlookedthe lake, to watch the movements of the Indians. She told Hector to beunder no apprehension if they came to the hut; not to attempt toconceal themselves, but offer them food to eat and water to drink. "Ifthey come to the house and find you away, they will take your storesand burn your roof, suspecting that you are afraid to meet themopenly; but they will not harm you if you meet them with open hand andfearless brow: if they eat of your bread, they will not harm you; methey would kill by a cruel death--the war-knife is in their heartagainst the daughter of the brave. "

The boys thought Indiana's advice good, and they felt no fear forthemselves, only for Catharine, whom they counselled to remain in theshanty with Wolfe. 

The Indians, intent only on the sport which they had come to enjoy, seemed in high glee, and apparently peaceably disposed; every nightthey returned to the camp on the north side. The boys could see theirfires gleaming among the trees on the opposite shore; and now andthen, in the stillness of the evening, their wild shouts of revelrywould come faintly to their ears, borne by the breeze over the watersof the lake. 

The allusion that Indiana had made to her own history, though conveyedin broken and hardly intelligible language, had awakened feelings ofdeep interest for her in the breasts of her faithful friends. Manymonths after this she related to her wondering auditors the fearfulstory of the massacre of her kindred, which I will now relate, as Ihave raised the curiosity of my youthful readers. 

There had been for some time a jealous feeling existing between thechiefs of two principal tribes of the Ojebwas and the Mohawks, whichlike a smothered fire had burned in the heart of each without havingburst into a decided blaze; for each strove to compass his ends andobtain the advantage over the other by covert means. The tribe of theMohawks of which I now speak claimed the southern shores of the RiceLake for their hunting-grounds, and certain islands and parts of thelake for fishing, while that of the Ojebwas considered themselvesmasters of the northern shores and certain rights of water besides. [Footnote: The facts of this narrative were gathered from the lips ofthe eldest son of a Rice Lake chief. I have preferred giving it in thepresent form, rather than as the story of the Indian girl. Simple asit is, it is matter of history. ] Possibly it was about these rightsthat the quarrel originated; but if so, it was not openly avowedbetween the "Black Snake" (that was the totem borne by the Mohawkchief) and the "Bald Eagle" (the totem of the Ojebwa). 

These chiefs had each a son, and the Bald Eagle had also a daughter ofgreat and rare beauty, called by her people the "Beam of the Morning. "She was the admiration of Mohawks as well as Ojebwas, and many of theyoung men of both the tribes had sought her hand, but hitherto invain. Among her numerous suitors, the son of the Black Snake seemed tobe the most enamoured of her beauty; and it was probably with someintention of winning the favour of the young Ojebwa squaw for his son, that the Black Snake accepted the formal invitation of the Bald Eagleto come to his hunting-grounds during the rice-harvest, and shoot deerand ducks on the lake, and to ratify a truce which had been for sometime set on foot between them. But while outwardly professingfriendship and a desire for peace, inwardly the fire of hatred burnedfiercely in the breast of the Black Snake against the Ojebwa chief andhis only son, a young man of great promise, renowned among his tribeas a great hunter and warrior, but who had once offended the Mohawkchief by declining a matrimonial alliance with one of the daughters ofa chief of inferior rank who was closely connected to him by marriage. This affront rankled in the heart of the Black Snake, though outwardlyhe affected to have forgiven and forgotten the slight that had beenput upon his relative. 

The hunting had been carried on for some days very amicably, when oneday the Bald Eagle was requested, with all due attention to Indianetiquette, to go to the wigwam of the Black Snake. On entering thelodge, he perceived the Mohawk strangely disordered: he rose from hismat, on which he had been sleeping, with a countenance fearfullydistorted, his eyes glaring hideously, his whole frame convulsed andwrithing as in fearful bodily anguish; and casting himself upon theground he rolled and grovelled on the earth, uttering frightful yellsand groans. 

The Bald Eagle was moved at the distressing state in which he foundhis guest, and asked the cause of his disorder, but this the otherrefused to tell. After some hours the fit appeared to subside, but thechief remained moody and silent. The following day the same scene wasrepeated; and on the third, when the fit seemed to have increased inbodily agony, with great apparent reluctance, wrung seemingly from himby the importunity of his host, he consented to reveal the cause, which was, that the Bad Spirit had told him that these bodily torturescould not cease till the only son of his friend, the Ojebwa chief, hadbeen sacrificed to appease his anger, neither could peace longcontinue between the two nations until this deed had been done; andnot only must the chief's son be slain, but his flesh must be servedup at a feast at which the father must preside. The Black Snakeaffected the utmost horror and aversion at so bloody and unnatural adeed being committed to save his life and the happiness of his tribe, but the peace was to be ratified for ever if the sacrifice weremade, --if not, war to the knife was to be ever between the Mohawks andOjebwas. 

The Bald Eagle, seeing that his treacherous guest would make this anoccasion of renewing a deadly warfare, for which possibly he was notat the time well prepared, assumed a stoical calmness, and replied, --

"Be it so; great is the power of the Bad Spirit to cause evil to thetribes of the chiefs that rebel against his will. My son shall besacrificed by my hand, that the evil one may be appeased, and that theBlack Snake's body may have ease, and his people rest beside the firesof their lodges in peace. "

"The Bald Eagle has spoken like a chief with a large heart, " was thespecious response of the wily Mohawk, "moreover, the Good Spirit alsoappeared, and said, 'Let the Black Snake's son and the Bald Eagle'sdaughter become man and wife, that peace may be found to dwell amongthe lodges, and the war-hatchet be buried for ever. '"

"The Beam of the Morning shall become the wife of the Young Pine, " wasthe courteous answer; but stern revenge lay deep hidden beneath theunmoved brow and passionless lip. 

The fatal day arrived. The Bald Eagle, with unflinching hand and eyethat dropped no human tear of sorrow for the son of his love, saw hisson bound to the fatal post and pierced by the arrows of his owntribe. The fearful feast of human flesh was prepared, and the oldchief, pale but unmoved, presided over the ceremonies. The war-dancewas danced round the sacrifice, and all went off well, as if no suchhorrible rite had been enacted, but a fearful retribution was at hand. The Young Pine sought the tent of the Bald Eagle's daughter thatevening, and was received with all due deference, as a son of so greata chief as the Black Snake merited. He was regarded now as asuccessful suitor; and, intoxicated with the beauty of the Beam of theMorning, he pressed her to allow the marriage to take place in a fewdays. The bride consented, and a day was named for the wedding feastto be celebrated; and, that due honour might be given to so great anevent, invitations were sent out to the principal families of theMohawk tribe, and these amounted to several hundreds of souls; whilethe young Ojebwa hunters were despatched up the river and to differentparts of the country, avowedly to collect venison, beaver, and otherdelicacies, to regale their guests, but in reality to summon, by meansof trusty scouts, a large war-party from the small lakes, to be inreadiness to take part in the deadly revenge that was preparing fortheir enemies. 

Meantime the squaws had pitched the nuptial tent and prepared thebridal ornaments. A large wigwam, capable of containing all theexpected guests, was then constructed, adorned with the thick branchesof evergreens, so artfully contrived as to be capable of concealingthe armed Ojebwas and their allies, who in due time were introducedbeneath this leafy screen, armed with the murderous tomahawk andscalping-knife, with which to spring upon their defenceless andunsuspecting guests. According to the etiquette always observed uponsuch occasions, all deadly weapons were left outside the tent. Thebridegroom had been conducted with songs and dancing to the tent ofthe bride. The guests, to the number of several hundred naked andpainted warriors, were assembled. The feast was declared to be ready. A great iron pot or kettle occupied the centre of the tent. Accordingto the custom of the Indians, the father of the bridegroom was invitedto lift the most important dish from the pot, whilst the warriorscommenced their war-dance around him. This dish was usually a bear'shead, which was fastened to a string left for the purpose of raisingit from the pot. 

"Let the Black Snake, the great chief of the Mohawks, draw up the headand set it on the table, that his people may eat and make merry, andthat his wise heart may be glad, " were the scornful words of the BaldEagle. 

A yell of horror burst from the lips of the horror-stricken father ashe lifted to view the fresh gory head of his only son, the _happy_bridegroom the lovely daughter of the Ojebwa chief. 

"Ha!" shouted the Bald Eagle, "is the great chief of the Mohawks asquaw, that his blood grows white and his heart trembles at the sightof his son, the bridegroom of the Beam of the Morning? The Bald Eaglegave neither sigh nor groan when he saw the arrows pierce the heart ofhis child. Come, brother, take the knife; taste the flesh and drinkthe blood of thy son. The Bald Eagle shrank not when you bade himpartake of the feast that was prepared from his young warrior's body. "

The wretched father dashed himself upon the earth, while his cries andhowlings rent the air. These cries were answered by the war-whoop ofthe ambushed Ojebwas, as they sprang to their feet and with deafeningyells attacked the guests, who, panic-stricken, naked and defenceless, fell an easy prey to their infuriated enemies. Not one living foeescaped to tell the tale of that fearful marriage feast. A secondJudith had the chief's daughter proved. It was her plighted hand thathad severed the head of her unsuspecting bridegroom, to complete thefearful vengeance that had been devised in return for the mercilessand horrible murder of her brother. 

Nor was the sacrifice yet finished; for with fearful cries the Indiansseized upon the canoes of their enemies, and with the utmost speed, urged by unsatisfied revenge, hurried down the lake to an island wherethe women and children and such of the aged or young men as were notincluded among the wedding guests were encamped in unsuspectingsecurity. Panic-stricken, the Mohawks offered no resistance, but felllike sheep appointed for the slaughter. The Ojebwas slew there thegray-head with the infant of days. But while the youths and old mentamely yielded to their enemies, there was one who, her spirit rousedto fury by the murder of her father, armed herself with the war-cluband knife, and boldly withstood the successful warriors. At the doorof the tent of the slaughtered chief the Amazon defended her children. While the war lightning kindled in her dark eyes, she called aloud inscornful tones to her people to hide themselves in the tents of theirwomen, who alone were braves, and would fight their battles. Fiercelyshe taunted the men; but they shrank from the unequal contest, and shealone was found to deal the death-blow upon the foe, till, overpoweredwith numbers, and pierced with frightful wounds, she fell singing herown death-song and raising the wail for the dead who lay around her. Night closed in, but the work of blood still continued. Lower downthey found another encampment, and there also they slew all theinhabitants of the lodges. They then returned to the island, to gathertogether their dead and to collect the spoils of the tents. They wereweary with the fatigue of the slaughter of that fearful day. Theretribution had satisfied even their love of blood. And when theyfound, on returning to the spot where the heroine had stood at bay, ayoung solitary female sitting beside the corpse of that dauntlesswoman, her mother, they led her away, and did all that their savagenature could suggest to soften her anguish and dry her tears. Theybrought her to the tents of their women, clothed and fed her, and badeher be comforted; but her young heart burned within her, and sherefused consolation. She could not forget the wrongs of her people:she was the only living creature left of the Mohawks on that island. The young girl was Indiana--the same whom Hector Maxwell had found, wounded and bound, and ready to perish with hunger and thirst, on BareHill. 

Brooding with revenge in her heart, the young girl told them that shehad stolen into the tent of the Bald Eagle, and aimed a knife at histhroat; but the fatal blow was arrested by one of the young men, whohad watched her enter the old chief's tent. A council was called, andshe was taken to Bare Hill, bound, and left in the sad state alreadydescribed. 

It was with feelings of horror and terror that the Christian childrenlistened to this fearful tale, and Indiana read in their averted eyesand pale faces the feelings with which the recital of the tale ofblood had inspired them. And then it was, as they sat beneath theshade of the trees, in the soft, misty light of an Indian summer moon, that Catharine, with simple earnestness, taught her young disciplethose heavenly lessons of mercy and forgiveness which her Redeemer hadset forth by his life, his doctrines, and his death--telling her thatif she, would see that Saviour's face in heaven, and dwell with him injoy and peace for ever, she must learn to pray for those dreadful menwho had made her fatherless and motherless and her home a desolation;and that the fire of revenge must be quenched within her heart, andreplaced by the spirit of love, or she could not become a child of Godand an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. How hard were theseconditions to the young heathen! how contrary to her nature, to allthat she had been taught in the tents of her fathers, where revengewas virtue, and to take the scalp of an enemy a glorious thing!

Yet when she contrasted the gentle, kind, and dove-like characters ofher Christian friends with the fierce, bloody people of her tribe andof her Ojebwa enemies, she could not but own they were more worthy oflove and admiration. Had they not found her a poor, miserable, trembling captive, unbound her, fed and cherished her, pouring thebalm of consolation into her wounded heart, drawing her in bands oftenderest love to forsake those wild and fearful passions that warredin her soul, and bringing her to the feet of the Saviour, to becomehis meek and holy child--a lamb of his "extended fold"? [Footnote: TheIndian who related this narrative to the author was a son of a RiceLake chief, Mosang Pondash by name. He vouched for its truth as ahistoric fact remembered by his father, whose grandsire had been oneof the actors in the massacre. ]

CHAPTER IX. 

"The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill"

_Irish Song_

While the Indians were actively pursuing their sports on the lake, shooting wildfowl, and hunting and fishing by torchlight, so excitingwas the amusement of watching them that the two lads, Hector andLouis, quite forgot all sense of danger in the enjoyment of lying orsitting on the brow of the mount near the great ravine and looking attheir proceedings. Once or twice the lads were near betrayingthemselves to the Indians by raising a shout of delight at someskilful manoeuvre that excited their unqualified admiration andapplause. 

At night, when the canoes had all retired to the camp on the northshore, where the Indians assembled under the boughs of some venerabletrees, and round the evening fires related the deeds of the precedingday, and all fear of detection had ceased for the time, they lightedup their own shanty fire, and cooked a good supper, and also prepareda sufficiency of food for the morrow. The Indians remained for afortnight. At the end of that time Indiana, who was a watchful spy ontheir movements, told Hector and Louis that the camp was broken up, and the Indians had gone up the river, and would not return again forsome weeks. The departure of the Indians was a matter of greatrejoicing to Catharine, whose dread of these savages had greatlyincreased since she had been made acquainted with the fearful deedswhich Indiana had described. 

Once, and only once during their stay, the Indians had passed within ashort distance of their dwelling; but they were in full chase of abear, which had been seen crossing the deep ravine near Mount Ararat, and were too intent upon their game to notice the shanty; for theynever turned out of their path, and Catharine, who was alone at thetime, drawing water from the spring, was so completely concealed bythe high bank above her that she had quite escaped their notice. Fortunately, Indiana gave the two boys a signal to conceal themselves, where, effectually hidden among the thick, gray, mossy trunks of thecedars at the lake shore, they remained secure from molestation; whilethe Indian girl dropped noiselessly down among the tangled thicket ofwild vines and brushwood, which she drew cautiously over her, andclosed her eyes, lest, as she naively remarked, their glitter shouldbe seen and betray her to her enemies. 

It was a moment of intense anxiety to our poor wanderers, whoseterrors were more excited on behalf of the young Mohawk than forthemselves, and they congratulated her on her escape with affectionatewarmth. 

"Are my white brothers afraid to die?" was the young squaw'shalf-scornful reply. "Indiana is the daughter of a brave; she fearsnot to die. "

The latter end of September and the first week in October had beenstormy and even cold. The rainy season, however, was now over. Thenights were often illuminated by the aurora borealis, which might beseen forming an arch of soft and lovely brightness over the lake tothe north and north-eastern portions of the horizon, or shootingupwards, in ever-varying shafts of greenish light, now hiding, nowrevealing the stars, which shone with softened radiance through thesilvery veil that dimmed their beauty. Sometimes for many nightstogether the same appearance might be seen, and was usually theforerunner of frosty weather, though occasionally it was the precursorof cold winds and heavy rains. 

The Indian girl regarded it with superstitious feelings, but whetheras an omen of good or evil she would not tell. On all mattersconnected with her religious notions she was shy and reserved, thoughoccasionally she unconsciously revealed them. Thus the warnings ofdeath or misfortunes were revealed to her by certain ominous sounds inthe woods, the appearance of strange birds or animals, or the moaningsof others. The screeching of the owl, the bleating of the doe, orbarking of the fox, were evil auguries, while the flight of the eagleand the croaking of the raven were omens of good. She put faith indreams, and would foretell good or evil fortune from them; she couldread the morning and evening clouds, and knew from various appearancesof the sky, or the coming or departing of certain birds or insects, changes in the atmosphere. Her ear was quick in distinguishing thechanges in the voices of the birds or animals; she knew the times oftheir coming and going, and her eye was quick to see, as her ear todetect sounds. Her voice was soft, and low, and plaintive, and shedelighted in imitating the little ballads or hymns that Catharinesang; though she knew nothing of their meaning, she would catch thetunes and sing the song with Catharine, touching the hearts of herdelighted auditors by the melody and pathos of her voice. 

The season called Indian summer had now arrived. The air was soft andmild, almost oppressively warm; the sun looked red as though seenthrough the smoke-clouds of a populous city. A soft blue haze hung onthe bosom of the glassy lake, which reflected on its waveless surfaceevery passing shadow, and the gorgeous tints of its changing woods onshore and island. Sometimes the stillness of the air was relieved by asoft sighing wind, which rustled the dying foliage as it swept by. 

The Indian summer is the harvest of the Indian tribes. It is duringthis season that they hunt and shoot the wild-fowl that come in theirannual flights to visit the waters of the American lakes and rivers;it is then that they gather in their rice, and prepare their winterstores of meat, and fish, and furs. The Indian girl knew the seasonthey would resort to certain hunting-grounds. They were constant, andaltered not their customs, as it was with their fathers, so it waswith them. 

Louis had heard so much of the Otonabee river from Indiana that he wasimpatient to go and explore the entrance and the shores of the lake onthat side, which hitherto they had not ventured to do for fear ofbeing surprised by the Indians. "Some fine day, " said Louis, "we willgo out in the canoe, explore the distant islands, and go up the rivera little way. "

Hector advised visiting all the islands by turns, beginning at thelittle islet which looks in the distance like a boat in full sail, itis level with the water, and has only three or four trees upon it. Thename they had given to it was "Ship Island. " The Indians have somename for it which I have forgotten, but it means, I have been told, "Witch Island. " Hector's plan met with general approbation, and theyresolved to take provisions with them for several days, and visit theislands and go up the river, passing the night under the shelter ofthe thick trees on the shore wherever they found a pleasanthalting-place. 

The weather was mild and warm, the lake was as clear and calm as amirror, and in joyous mood our little party embarked and paddled upthe lake, first to Ship Island; but this did not detain them manyminutes. They then went to Grape Island, which they so named from theabundance of wild vines, now rich with purple clusters of the ripegrapes--tart, but still not to be despised by our young adventurers, and they brought away a large birch basket heaped up with the fruit. "Ah, if we had but a good cake of maple sugar now, to preserve ourgrapes with, and make such grape jelly as my mother makes!" saidLouis. 

"If we find out a sugar-bush we will manage to make plenty of sugar, "said Catharine; "there are maples not two hundred yards from theshanty, near the side of the steep bank to the east. You remember thepleasant spot, which we named the Happy Valley, where the bright creekruns dancing along so merrily, below the pine-ridge?"

"Oh yes; the same that winds along near the foot of Bare Hill, wherethe water-cresses grow. "

"Yes, where I gathered the milk-weed the other day. "

"What a beautiful pasture-field that will make when it is cleared!"said Hector thoughtfully. 

"Hector is always planning about fields, and clearing great farms, "said Louis, laughing. "We shall see Hec a great man one of these days;I think he has in his own mind brushed, and burned, and logged up allthe fine flats and table-land on the plains before now--ay, andcropped it all with wheat, and pease, and Indian corn. "

"We will have a clearing and a nice field of corn next year, if welive, " replied Hector; "that corn that we found in the canoe will be atreasure. "

"Yes; and the corn-cob you got on Bare Hill, " said Catharine. "Howlucky we have been! We shall be so happy when we see our little fieldof corn flourishing round the shanty! It was a good thing, Hec, thatyou went to the Indian camp that day, though both Louis and I werevery miserable while you were absent; but, you see, God must havedirected you, that the life of this poor girl might be saved, to be acomfort to us. Everything has prospered well with us since she came tous. Perhaps it is because we try to make a Christian of her, and soGod blesses all our endeavours. "

"We are told, " said Hector, "that there is joy with the angels of Godover one sinner that repenteth: doubtless, it is a joyful thing whenthe heathen, that knew not the name of God, are taught to glorify hisholy name. "

Indiana, while exploring, had captured a porcupine. She declared thatshe should have plenty of quills for edging baskets and moccasins;besides, she said, the meat was white and good to eat. Hector lookedwith a suspicious eye upon the little animal, doubting the proprietyof eating its flesh, though he had learned to eat musk-rats, andconsider them good meat, baked in Louis's Indian oven, or roasted on aforked stick before the fire. The Indian porcupine is a small animal, not a very great deal larger than the common British hedgehog; thequills, however, are longer and stronger, and varied with alternateclouded marks of pure white and dark brownish-gray; they are minutelybarbed, so that if one enters the flesh it is with difficultyextracted, but will work through of itself in an opposite direction, and can then be easily pulled out. Dogs and cattle often suffer greatinconvenience from getting their muzzles filled with the quills of theporcupine, the former when worrying the poor little animal, and thelatter by accidentally meeting a dead one among the herbage; greatinflammation will sometimes attend the extraction. Indians often losevaluable hounds from this cause. Besides porcupines, Indiana told hercompanions, there were some fine butter-nut trees (_Juglans cinerea_)on the island, and they could collect a bagful of nuts in a very shorttime. This was good news, for the butter-nut is sweet and pleasant, almost equal to the walnut, of which it is a species. 

The day was passed pleasantly enough in collecting nuts and grapes;but as this island did not afford any good cleared spot for passingthe night, and moreover, was tenanted by black snakes, several ofwhich made their appearance among the stones near the edge of thewater, they agreed by common counsel to go to Long Island, whereIndiana said there was an old log-house, the walls of which were stillstanding, and where there was dry moss in plenty which would make thema comfortable bed for the night. This old log-house, she said, hadbeen built, she had heard the Indians say, by a French Canadiantrapper, who used to visit the lake some years ago. He was on friendlyterms with the chiefs, who allowed him many privileges, and he boughttheir furs, and took them down the lake, through the river Trent, tosome station-house on the great lake. They found they should have timeenough to land and deposit their nuts and grapes and paddle to LongIsland before sunset. Upon the western part of this fine island theyhad several times landed and passed some hours, exploring its shores;but Indiana told them that to reach the old log-house they must enterthe low swampy bay to the east, at an opening which she called IndianCove. To do this required some skill in the management of the canoe, which was rather overloaded for so light a vessel, and the trees grewso close and thick that they had some difficulty in pushing their waythrough them without injuring its frail sides. These trees or busheswere chiefly black alder (_Alnus incuna_), high-bush cranberries(_Viburnum opulus_), dogwood, willows, as they proceeded further, there was ground of a more solid nature, with cedar, poplar, swampoak, and soft maple, silver birch, and wild cherries. Long strings ofsilver-gray tree-moss hung dangling over their heads, the bark androots of the birch and cedars were covered with a luxuriant growth ofgreen moss, but there was a dampness and closeness in this place thatmade it far from wholesome. The little band of voyagers were not sorrywhen the water became too shallow to admit of the canoe making its waythrough the swampy channel, and they landed on the bank of a smallcircular pond, as round as a ring, and nearly surrounded by tall treeshoary with moss and lichens; large water-lilies floated on the surfaceof this miniature lake; the brilliant red berries of the high-bushcranberry and the purple clusters of grapes festooned the trees. "Afamous breeding-place this must be for ducks, " observed Louis. 

"And for flowers, " said Catharine, "and for grapes and cranberries. There is always some beauty or some usefulness to be found, howeverlonely the spot. "

"A fine place for musk-rats, and minks, and fishes, " said Hector, looking round. "The old trapper knew what he was about when he madehis lodge near this pond. And there, sure enough, is the log-hut, andnot so bad a one either;" and scrambling up the bank he entered thedeserted little tenement, well pleased to find it in tolerable repair. There were the ashes on the stone hearth, just as it had been leftyears back by the old trapper; some rough-hewn shelves, a rudebedstead of cedar poles still occupied a corner of the littledwelling; heaps of old dry moss and grass lay upon the ground; and thelittle squaw pointed with one of her silent laughs to a collection ofbroken egg-shells, where some wild-duck had sat and hatched her downybrood among the soft materials which she had found and appropriated toher own purpose. The only things pertaining to the former possessor ofthe log-hut were an old, rusty, battered tin pannikin, now, alas!unfit for holding water; a bit of a broken earthen whisky jar; a rustynail, which Louis pocketed, or rather pouched--for he had substituteda fine pouch of deer-skin for his worn-out pocket; and a fishing-lineof good stout cord, which was wound on a splinter of red cedar, andcarefully stuck between one of the rafters and the roof of the shanty. A rusty but efficient hook was attached to the line, and Louis, whowas the finder, was quite overjoyed at his good fortune in making sovaluable an addition to his fishing tackle. Hector got only an oddworn-out moccasin, which he threw into the little pond in disdain:while Catharine declared she would keep the old tin pot as a relic, and carefully deposited it in the canoe. 

As they made their way into the interior of the island, they foundthat there were a great many fine sugar maples, which had been tappedby some one--as the boys thought, by the old trapper, but Indiana, onexamining the incisions in the trees, and the remnants of birch-barkvessels that lay moldering on the earth below them, declared them tohave been the work of her own people, and long and sadly did the younggirl look upon these simple memorials of a race of whom she was thelast living remnant. The young girl stood there in melancholy mood, asolitary, isolated being, with no kindred tie upon the earth to makelife dear to her; a stranger in the land of her fathers, associatingwith those whose ways were not her ways, nor their thoughts herthoughts, whose language was scarcely known to her, whose God was notthe god of her fathers. Yet the dark eyes of the Indian girl were notdimmed with tears as she thought of these things, she had learned ofher people to suffer and be still. 

Silent and patient she stood, with her melancholy gaze bent on theearth, when she felt the gentle hand of Catharine laid upon her arm, and then kindly and lovingly passed round her neck, as shewhispered, --

"Indiana, I will be to you as a sister, and will love you and cherishyou, because you are an orphan girl and alone in the world; but Godloves you, and will make you happy. He is a Father to the fatherless, and the Friend of the destitute and them that have no helper. "

The words of kindness and love need no interpretation; nobook-learning is necessary to make them understood. The young, theold, the deaf, the dumb, the blind can read this universal language;its very silence is often more eloquent than words, --the gentlepressure of the hand, the half-echoed sigh, the look of sympathy willpenetrate to the very heart, and unlock its hidden stores of humantenderness and love. The rock is smitten and the waters gush forth, abright and living stream, to refresh and fertilize the thirsty soul. 

The heart of the poor mourner was touched; she bowed down her headupon the hand that held her so kindly in its sisterly grasp, and weptsoft, sweet, human tears full of grateful love, while she whispered, in her own low, plaintive voice, "My white sister, I kiss you in myheart; I will love the God of my white brothers, and be his child. "

The two friends now busied themselves in preparing the evening meal:they found Louis and Hector had lighted up a charming blaze on thedesolate hearth. A few branches of cedar, twisted together byCatharine, made a serviceable broom, with which she swept the floor, giving to the deserted dwelling a neat and comfortable aspect; somebig stones were quickly rolled in, and made to answer for seats in thechimney-corner. The new-found fishing-line was soon put intorequisition by Louis, and with very little delay a fine dish of blackbass, broiled on the embers, was added to their store of dried venisonand roasted bread-roots, which they found in abundance on a low spoton the island. Grapes and butter-nuts, which Hector cracked with astone by way of a nutcracker, finished their sylvan meal. The boysthen stretched themselves to sleep on the ground, with their feet, Indian fashion, to the fire; while Catharine and Indiana occupied themossy couch which they had newly spread with fragrant cedar andhemlock boughs. 

The next island that claimed their attention was Sugar-Maple Island, afine, thickly-wooded island, rising with steep, rocky banks from thewater. A beautiful object, but too densely wooded to admit of ourparty penetrating beyond a few yards of its shores. 

The next island they named the Beaver, [Footnote: Commonly calledSheep Island, from some person having pastured a few sheep upon itsome few years ago. I have taken the liberty of preserving the name, to which it bears an obvious resemblance, the nose of the Beaver liestowards the west, the tail to the east. ] from its resemblance in shapeto that animal. A fine, high, oval island beyond this they named BlackIsland, [Footnote: Black Island, the sixth from the head of the lake;an oval island, remarkable for its evergreens. ] from its darkevergreens. The next was that which seemed most to excite the interestof their Indian guide, although but a small stony island, scantilyclothed with trees, lower down the lake. This place she called SpokeIsland, which means in the Indian tongue "a place for the dead. " It issometimes called Spirit Island; and here, in times past, the Indianpeople used to bury their dead. The island is now often the resort ofparties of pleasure, who, from its being grassy and open, find it moreavailable than those which are densely wooded. The young Mohawkregarded it with feelings of superstitious awe, and would not sufferHector to land the canoe on its rocky shore. 

"It is a place of spirits, " she said; "the ghosts of my fathers willbe angry if we go there. " Even her young companions felt that theywere upon sacred ground, and gazed with silent reverence upon theburial isle. 

Strongly imbued with a love of the marvellous, which they had derivedfrom their Highland origin, Indiana's respect for the spirits of herancestors was regarded as most natural, and in silence, as if fearingto disturb the solemnity of the spot, they resumed their paddles, andafter a while reached the mouth of the river Otonabee, which wasdivided into two separate channels by a long, low point of swampyland, covered with stunted, mossy bushes and trees, rushes, driftwood, and aquatic plants. Indiana told them this river flowed from thenorth, and that it was many days' journey up to the lakes. Toillustrate its course, she drew with her paddle a long line, withsundry curves and broader spaces, some longer, some smaller, with baysand inlets, which she gave them to understand were the chain of lakesthat she spoke of. There were beautiful hunting-grounds on the bordersof these lakes, and many fine waterfalls and rocky islands; she hadbeen taken up to these waters during the time of her captivity. TheOjebwas, she said, were a branch of the great Chippewa nation, whoowned much land and great waters thereabouts. 

Compared with the creeks and streams that they had seen hitherto, theOtonabee appeared a majestic river, and an object of great admirationand curiosity, for it seemed to them as if it were the highroadleading up to an unknown, far-off land, --a land of dark, mysterious, impenetrable forests, --flowing on, flowing on, in lonely majesty, reflecting on its tranquil bosom the blue sky, the dark pines and graycedars, the pure ivory-white water-lily, and every passing shadow ofbird or leaf that flitted across its surface, so quiet was the onwardflow of its waters. 

A few brilliant leaves yet clung to the soft maples and crimson-tintedoaks, but the glory of the forest had departed; the silent fall ofmany a sere and yellow leaf told of the death of summer and ofwinter's coming reign. Yet the air was wrapped in a deceitfulstillness; no breath of wind moved the trees or dimpled the water. Bright wreaths of scarlet berries and wild grapes hung in festoonsamong the faded foliage. The silence of the forest was unbroken, saveby the quick tapping of the little midland woodpecker or the shrillscream of the blue jay, the whirring sound of the large white-and-grayduck (called by the frequenters of these lonely waters thewhistlewing) as its wings swept the waters in its flight, or the lightdripping of the paddle, --so still, so quiet was the scene. 

As the day was now far advanced, the Indian girl advised them eitherto encamp for the night on the river-bank or to use all speed inreturning. She seemed to view the aspect of the heavens with someanxiety. Vast volumes of light, copper-tinted clouds were rising; thesun, seen through its hazy veil, looked red and dim; and a hot, sultryair, unrelieved by a breath of refreshing wind, oppressed our youngvoyagers. And though the same coppery clouds and red sun had been seenfor several successive days, a sort of instinctive feeling promptedthe desire in all to return, and, after a few minutes' rest andrefreshment, they turned their little bark towards the lake; and itwas well that they did so. By the time they had reached the middle ofthe lake, the stillness of the air was rapidly changing; therose-tinted clouds, that had lain so long piled upon each other inmountainous ridges, began to move upwards, at first slowly, then withrapidly accelerated motion. There was a hollow moaning in thepine-tops; and by fits a gusty breeze swept the surface of the water, raising it into rough, short, white-crested ridges. 

These signs were pointed out by Indiana as the harbingers of a risinghurricane; and now a swift spark of light, like a falling star, glanced on the water, as if there to quench its fiery light. Again theIndian girl raised her dark hand and pointed to the rollingstorm-clouds, to the crested waters and the moving pine-tops; then tothe head of the Beaver Island, --it was the one nearest to them. Withan arm of energy she wielded the paddle, with an eye of fire shedirected the course of their little vessel; for well she knew theirdanger and the need for straining every nerve to reach the nearestpoint of land. Low muttering peals of thunder were now heard; the windwas rising with electric speed. Away flew the light bark, with theswiftness of a bird, over the water; the tempest was above, around, and beneath. The hollow crash of the forest trees as they bowed to theearth could be heard sullenly sounding from shore to shore. And nowthe Indian girl, flinging back her black streaming hair from her brow, knelt at the head of the canoe and with renewed vigour plied thepaddle. The waters, lashed into a state of turbulence by the violenceof the storm, lifted the canoe up and down; but no word was spoken;they each felt the greatness of the peril, but they also knew thatthey were in the hands of Him who can say to the tempest-tossed waves, "Peace, be still, " and they obey him. 

Every effort was made to gain the nearest island; to reach themainland was impossible, for the rain poured down a blinding deluge. It was with difficulty the little craft was kept afloat by baling outthe water; to do this, Louis was fain to use his cap, and Catharineassisted with the old tin pot which she had fortunately brought fromthe trapper's shanty. The tempest was at its height when they reachedthe nearest point of the Beaver, and joyful was the grating sound ofthe canoe as it was vigorously pushed up on the shingly beach, beneaththe friendly shelter of the overhanging trees, where, perfectlyexhausted by the exertions they had made, dripping with rain andoverpowered by the terrors of the storm, they threw themselves on theground, and in safety watched its progress, thankful for an escapefrom such imminent peril. 

Thus ended the Indian summer, so deceitful in its calmness and itsbeauty. The next day saw the ground white with snow, and hardened intostone by a premature frost. Our poor voyagers were not long inquitting the shelter of the Beaver Island, and betaking themselvesonce more to their ark of refuge, the log-house on Mount Ararat. 

The winter that year set in with unusual severity some weeks soonerthan usual, so that from the beginning of November to the middle ofApril the snow never entirely left the ground. The lake was sooncovered with ice, and by the month of December it was one compact, solid sheet from shore to shore. 

CHAPTER X. 

 "Scared by the red and noisy light. "

 --COLERIDGE. 

Hector and Louis had now little employment, except chopping fire-wood, which was no very arduous task for two stout, healthy lads used fromchildhood to handling the axe. Trapping, and hunting, and snaringhares were occupations which they pursued more for the excitement andexercise than from hunger, as they had laid by abundance of driedvenison, fish, and birds, besides a plentiful store of rice. They nowvisited those trees that they had marked in the summer, where they hadnoticed the bees hiving, and cut them down. In one they got more thana pailful of rich honeycomb, and others yielded some more, some less;this afforded them a delicious addition to their boiled rice and driedacid fruits. They might have melted the wax and burned candles of it;but this was a refinement of luxury that never once occurred to ouryoung housekeepers: the dry pineknots that are found in the woods arethe settlers' candles. Catharine made some very good vinegar with therefuse of the honey and combs, by pouring water on it, and leaving itto ferment in a warm nook of the chimney, in one of the birch-barkvessels; and this was an excellent substitute for salt as aseasoning--to the fresh meat and fish. Like the Indians, they were nowreconciled to the want of this seasonable article. 

Indiana seemed to enjoy the cold weather. The lake, though locked upto every one else, was open to her: with the aid of the tomahawk shepatiently made an opening in the ice, and over this she built a littleshelter of pine boughs stuck into the ice. Armed with a sharp spearcarved out of hardened wood, she would lie upon the ice, and patientlyawait the rising of some large fish to the air-hole, when dexterouslyplunging the spear into the unwary creature, she dragged it to thesurface. Many a noble fish did the young squaw bring home, and cast atthe feet of him whom she had tacitly elected as her lord and master:to him she offered the voluntary service of a faithful and devotedservant--I might almost have said, slave. 

During the middle of December there were some days of such intensecold that even our young Crusoes, hardy as they were, preferred theblazing log-fire and warm ingle-nook to the frozen lake and cuttingnorth-west wind which blew the loose snow in blinding drifts over itsbleak, unsheltered surface. Clad in the warm tunic and petticoat ofIndian blanket, with fur-lined moccasins, Catharine and her Indianfriend felt little cold excepting to the face when they went abroad, unless the wind was high, and then experience taught them to keep athome. And these cold gloomy days they employed in many useful works. Indiana had succeeded in dyeing the quills of the porcupine that shehad captured on Grape Island; with these she worked a pair ofbeautiful moccasins and an arrow-case for Hector, besides making asheath for Louis's _couteau de chasse_, of which the young hunterwas very proud, bestowing great praise on the workmanship. 

Indiana appeared to be deeply engrossed with some work that she wasengaged in, but preserved a provoking degree of mystery about it, tothe no small annoyance of Louis, who, among his other traits ofcharacter, was remarkably inquisitive, wanting to know the why andwherefore of everything he saw. 

Indiana first prepared a frame of some tough wood, --it might be theinner bark of the oak, or elm, or hickory; this was pointed at eitherend, and wide in the middle--not very much unlike the form of somebroad, flat fish. Over this she wove an open network of narrow thongsof deer-hide, wetted to make it more pliable, and securely fastened tothe frame: when dry it became quite tight, and resembled a sort ofcoarse bamboo-work, such as you see on cane-bottomed chairs and sofas. 

"And now, Indiana, tell us what sort of fish you are going to catch inyour ingenious little net, " said Louis, who had watched herproceedings with great interest. The girl shook her head, and laughedtill she showed all her white teeth, but quietly proceeded to commencea second frame like the first. 

Louis put it on his head. No; it could not be meant to be worn there, that was plain. He turned it round and round. It must be intended forsome kind of bird-trap; yes, that must be it, and he cast an inquiringglance at Indiana. She blushed, shook her head, and gave another ofher silent laughs. 

"Some game like battledoor and shuttle-cock, "--and snatching up alight bass-wood chip, he began tossing the chip up and catching it onthe netted frame. The little squaw was highly amused, but rapidly wenton with her work. Louis was now almost angry at the perverse littlesavage persevering in keeping him in suspense. She would not tell himtill, the other was done:--then there were to be a pair of thesecurious articles!--and he was forced at last to sit quietly down towatch the proceeding of the work. It was night before the two werecompleted and furnished with straps and loops. When the last strokewas put to them, the Indian girl knelt down at Hector's feet, andbinding them on, pointed to them with a joyous laugh, and said, "Snow-shoe--for walk on snow--good!"

The boys had heard of snow-shoes, but had never seen them, and nowseemed to understand little of the benefit to be derived from the useof them. The young Mohawk quickly transferred the snow-shoes to herown feet, and soon proved to them that the broad surface preventedthose who wore them from sinking into the deep snow. --After manytrials, Hector began to acknowledge the advantage of walking with thesnow-shoes, especially on the frozen snow on the ice-covered lake. Indiana was well pleased with the approbation her manufactures metwith, and very soon manufactured for "Nee-chee, " as they all nowcalled Louis, a similar present. As to Catharine, she declared thesnow-shoes made her ankles ache, and that she preferred the moccasinsthat her cousin Louis made for her. 

During the long bright days of February, they made several excursionson the lake, and likewise explored some of the high hills to theeastward. On this ridge there were few large trees; but it was thicklyclothed with scrub-oaks, slender poplars, and here and there finepines, and picturesque free-growing oaks of considerable size andgreat age--patriarchs, they might be termed, among the forest growth. Over this romantic range of hill and dale, free as the air theybreathed, roamed many a gallant herd of deer, unmolested unless duringcertain seasons when the Indians came to hunt over these hills. Surprised at the different growth of the oaks on this side the plains, Hector could not help expressing his astonishment to Indiana, who toldhim that it was caused by the custom that her people had had from timeimmemorial of setting fire to the bushes in the early part of spring. This practice, she said, promoted the growth of the deer-grass, madegood cover for the deer themselves, and effectually prevented theincrease of the large timbers, giving a singular aspect to the highridge of hills when contrasted with the more wooded portions to thewestward. From the lake these eastern hills look verdant, and as ifcovered with tall green fern. In the month of October a rich rosy tintis cast upon the leaves of the scrub-oaks by the autumnal frosts, andthey present a glowing unvaried crimson of the most glorious hue, onlyvariegated in spots by a dark feathery evergreen, or a patch of lightwaving poplars turned by the same wizard's wand to golden yellow. 

There were many lovely spots, --lofty rounded hills, and deep shadydells, with extended table-land, and fine lake views; but, on thewhole, our young folks preferred the oak openings and the beautifulwooded glens of the western side, where they had fixed their home. 

There was one amusement they used greatly to enjoy during the coldbright days and moonlight nights of midwinter. This was gliding downthe frozen snow on the steep side of the dell near the spring, seatedon small hand-sleighs, which carried them down with great velocity. Wrapped in their warm furs, with caps fastened closely over theirears, what cared they for the cold? Warm and glowing from head tofoot, with cheeks brightened by delightful exercise, they would remainfor hours enjoying the amusement of the snow-slide; the bright frostgemming the ground with myriads of diamonds, sparkling in their hair, or whitening it till it rivalled the snow beneath their feet. Then, when tired out with the exercise, they returned to the shanty, stirredup a blazing fire, till the smoked rafters glowed in the red light;spread their simple fare of stewed rice sweetened with honey, orsavoury soup of hare or other game; and then, when warmed and fed, they kneeled together, side by side, and offered up a prayer ofgratitude to their Maker, and besought his care over them during thedark and silent hours of night. 

Had these young people been idle in their habits and desponding intheir tempers, they must have perished with cold and hunger, insteadof enjoying many necessaries and eyen some little luxuries in theirlonely forest home. Fortunately they had been brought up in the earlypractice of every sort of usefulness, to endure every privation withcheerful fortitude; not indeed quietly to sit down and wait for bettertimes, but vigorously to create those better times by every possibleexertion that could be brought into action to assist and amelioratetheir condition. 

To be up and doing is the maxim of a Canadian; and it is this thatnerves his arm to do and bear. The Canadian settler, following in thesteps of the old Americans, learns to supply all his wants by theexercise of his own energy. He brings up his family to rely upon theirown resources, instead of depending upon his neighbours. 

The children of the modern emigrant, though enjoying a higher degreeof civilization and intelligence, arising from a liberal education, might not have fared so well under similar circumstances as did ourCanadian Crusoes, because, unused to battle with the hardshipsincidental to a life of such privation as they had known, they couldnot have brought so much experience, or courage, or ingenuity to theiraid. It requires courage to yield to circumstances, as well as toovercome them. 

Many little useful additions to the interior of their dwelling weremade by Hector and Louis during the long winter. They made a smootherand better table than the first rough one that they put together. Theyalso made a rough partition of split cedars, to form a distinct andseparate sleeping-room for the two girls; but as this division greatlycircumscribed their sitting and cooking apartment, they resolved, assoon as the spring came, to cut and draw in logs for putting up abetter and larger room to be used as a summer parlour. Indiana andLouis made a complete set of wooden trenchers out of butter-nut, afine hard wood of excellent grain, and less liable to warp or crackthan many others. 

Louis's skill as a carpenter was much greater than that of his cousin. He not only possessed more judgment, and was more handy, but he had acertain taste and neatness in finishing his work, however rough hismaterials and rude his tools. He inherited some of that skill inmechanism for which the French have always been remarked. With hisknife and a nail he would carve a plum-stone into a miniature basket, with handle across it, all delicately wrought with flowers andchecker-work. The shell of a butter-nut would be transformed into aboat, with thwarts, and seats, and rudder, with sails of basswood orbirch-bark. Combs he could cut out of wood or bone, so that Catharinecould dress her hair or confine it in braids or bands at will. Thiswas a source of great comfort to her; and Louis was always pleasedwhen he could in any way contribute to his cousin's happiness. Theselittle arts Louis had been taught by his father. Indeed, the greatdistance that their little settlement was from any town or village hadnecessarily forced their families to depend on their own ingenuity andinvention to supply many of their wants. Once or twice a year they sawa trading fur-merchant, as I before observed; and those were gloriousdays for Hector and Louis, who were always on the alert to render thestrangers any service in their power, as by that means they sometimesreceived little gifts from them, and gleaned up valuable informationas to their craft as hunters and trappers. And then there werewonderful tales of marvellous feats and hair-breadth escapes to listento, as they sat with eager looks and open ears round the blazinglog-fire in the old log-house. Now they would in their turns havetales to tell of strange adventures, and all that had befallen themsince the first day of their wanderings on the Rice Lake Plains. 

The long winter passed away unmarked by any very stirring event. TheIndians had revisited the hunting-grounds; but they confinedthemselves chiefly to the eastern side of the Plains, the lake and theislands, and did not come near their dwelling to molest them. Thelatter end of the month of March presented fine sugar-making weather;and as they had the use of the big iron pot, they resolved to makemaple sugar and some molasses. Long Island was decided upon as themost eligible place. It had the advantage over Maple Island of havinga shanty ready built for a shelter during the time they might see fitto remain, and a good boiling-place, which would be a comfort to thegirls, as they need not be exposed to the weather during the processof sugaring. The two boys soon cut down some small pines andbass-woods, which they hewed out into sugar-troughs Indianamanufactured some rough pails of birch-bark. The first favourable dayfor the work they loaded up a hand-sleigh with their vessels, andmarched forth over the ice to the island, and tapped the trees theythought would yield sap for their purpose. And many pleasant days theypassed during the sugar-making season. 

They did not leave the sugar-bush for good till the commencement ofApril, when the sun and wind beginning to unlock the springs that fedthe lake, and to act upon its surface, taught them that it would notbe prudent to remain longer on the island. The loud, booming soundsthat were now frequently heard of the pent-up air beneath striving tobreak forth from its icy prison were warnings not to be neglected. Openings began to appear, especially at the entrance of the river andbetween the islands, and opposite to some of the larger creeks bluestreams, that attracted the water-fowl, ducks, and wild geese, whichcame, guided by that instinct which never errs, from theirabiding-places in far-off lands. Indiana knew the signs of the wildbirds' coming and going with a certainty that seemed almost marvellousto her simple-minded companions. 

How delightful were the first indications of the coming spring! Howjoyously our young Crusoes heard the first tapping of the red-headedwoodpecker! The low, sweet, warbling note of the early song-sparrow, and twittering chirp of the snow-bird, or that neat, Quakerly-lookingbird that comes to cheer us with the news of sunny days and greenbuds; the low, tender, whispering note of the chiccadee, flittingamong the pines or in the thick branches of the shore-side trees; thechattering note of the little, striped chitmunk, as it pursued itsfellows over the fallen trees; and the hollow sound of the malepartridge, heavily striking its wings against his sides to attract thenotice of the female birds, were among the early spring melodies. Forsuch they seemed to our forest dwellers, for they told them

 "That winter, cold winter, was past, And spring, lovely spring, was approaching at last. "

They watched for the first song of the robin, [Footnote: _Turdusmigratorius_, or American robin. ] and the full melody of the redwood-thrush; [Footnote: _Turdus melodus_, or wood-thrush. ] the rushingsound of the passenger pigeons, as flocks of these birds darted abovetheir heads, sometimes pausing to rest on the dry limb of somewithered oak, or darting down to feed upon the scarlet berries of thespicy winter-green, the acorns that still lay upon the now uncoveredground, or the berries of hawthorn and dogwood that still hung on thebare bushes. The pines were now putting on their rich, mossy, greenspring dresses; the skies were deep blue; Nature, weary of her longstate of inaction, seemed waking into life and light. 

On the Plains the snow soon disappears, for the sun and air haveaccess to the earth much easier than in the close, dense forest. Hector and Louis were soon able to move about with axe in hand, to cutthe logs for the addition to their house they proposed making. Theyalso set to work as soon as the frost was out of the ground to preparetheir little field for the Indian corn. This kept them quite busy. Catharine attended to the house; and Indiana went out fishing andhunting, bringing in plenty of small game and fish every day. Afterthey had piled and burned up the loose boughs and trunks thatencumbered the space they had marked out, they proceeded to enclose itwith a brush fence. This was done by felling the trees that stood inthe line of the field, and letting them fall so as to form the bottomlog of the fence, which they then made of sufficient height by pilingup arms of trees and brushwood. Perhaps in this matter they were tooparticular, as there was no fear of "breachy cattle, " or any cattle, intruding on the crop; but Hector maintained that deer and bears wereas much to be guarded against as oxen and cows. 

The little enclosure was made secure from any such depredators, andwas as clean as hands could make it. The two cousins sat on a log, contentedly surveying their work, and talking of the time when thegrain was to be put in. It was about the beginning of the second weekin May, as near as they could guess from the bursting of the forestbuds and the blooming of such of the flowers as they were acquaintedwith. Hector's eyes had followed the flight of a large eagle that now, turning from the lake, soared away majestically toward the east or OakHills. But soon his eye was attracted to another object. The loftiestpart of the ridge was enveloped in smoke. At first he thought it mustbe some mist-wreath hovering over its brow; but soon the dense, rolling clouds rapidly spread on each side, and he felt certain thatit was from fire, and nothing but fire, that those dark volumes arose. 

"Louis, look yonder! the hills to the east are on fire!"

"On fire, Hector? you are dreaming!"

"Nay, but look there!"

The hills were now shrouded in one dense, rolling cloud. It moved onwith fearful rapidity down the shrubby side of the hill, supplied bythe dry, withered foliage and deer-grass, which was like stubble tothe flames. 

"It is two miles off, or more, " said Louis; "and the creek will stopits progress long before it comes near us, and the swamp there beyondBare Hill. "

"The cedars are as dry as tinder; and as to the creek, it is so narrowa burning tree falling across would convey the fire to this side;besides, when the wind rises, as it always does when the bush is onfire, you know how far the burning leaves will fly. Do you rememberwhen the forest was on fire last spring how long it continued to burnand how fiercely it raged? It was lighted by the ashes of yourfather's pipe when he was out in the new fallow. The leaves were dry, and kindled, and before night the woods were burning for miles. "

"It was a grand spectacle, those pine-hills, when the fire got inamong them, " said Louis. "See! see how fast the fires kindle! Thatmust be some fallen pine that they have got hold of. Now, look at thelighting up of that hill; is it not grand?"

"If the wind would but change, and blow in the opposite direction, "said Hector anxiously. 

"The wind, mon ami, seems to have little influence; for as long as thefire finds fuel from the dry bushes and grass, it drives on, evenagainst the wind. "

As they spoke the wind freshened, and they could plainly see a longline of wicked, bright flames in advance of the dense mass of vapourwhich hung in its rear. On it came, that rolling sea of flame, withinconceivable rapidity, gathering strength as it advanced. The demonof destruction spread its red wings to the blast, rushing on withfiery speed, and soon hill and valley were wrapped in one sheet offlame. 

"It must have been the work of the Indians, " said Louis. "We hadbetter make a retreat to the island, in case of the fire crossing thevalley. We must not neglect the canoe. If the fire sweeps round by theswamp, it may come upon us unawares, and then the loss of the canoewould prevent escape by the lake. But here are the girls; let usconsult them. "

"It is the Indian burning, " said Indiana; "that is the reason thereare so few big trees, on that hill. They burn it to make the grassbetter for the deer. "

Hector had often pointed out to Louis the appearance of fire havingscorched the bark of the trees where they were at work, but it seemedto have been many years back; and when they were digging for the siteof the root-house [Footnote: Root-houses are built over deepexcavations below the reach of the frost, or the roots stored would bespoiled. ] below the bank, which they had just finished, they had metwith charred wood at the depth of six feet below the soil, which musthave lain there till the earth had accumulated over it. A period ofmany years must necessarily have passed since the wood had beenburned, as it was so much decomposed as to crumble beneath the woodenshovel they were digging with. 

All day they watched the progress of that fiery sea whose waves wereflame--red, rolling flame. Onward it came with resistless speed, overpowering every obstacle, widening its sphere of action, till itformed a perfect semicircle about them. As the night drew on, thesplendour of the scene became more apparent, and the path of the firebetter defined; but there was no fear of the conflagration spreadingas it had done in the day-time. The wind had sunk, and the copiousdews of evening effectually put a stop to the progress of the fire. The children could now gaze in security upon the magnificent spectaclebefore them without the excitement produced by its rapid spread duringthe day-time. They lay down to sleep in perfect security that night, but with the consciousness that, as the breeze sprung up in themorning, they must be on the alert to secure their little dwelling andits contents from the devastation that threatened it. They knew theyhad no power to stop its onward course, as they possessed no implementbetter than a rough wooden shovel, which would be found veryineffectual in opening a trench or turning the ground up, so as to cutoff the communication with the dry grass, leaves, and branches whichare the fuel for supplying the fires on the Plains. The littleclearing on one side the house they thought would be its safeguard, but the fire was advancing on three sides of them. 

"Let us hold a council, as the Indians do, to consider what is to bedone. "

"I propose, " said Louis, "retreating, bag and baggage, to the nearestpoint of Long Island. "

"My French cousin has well spoken, " said Hector, mimicking the Indianmode of speaking; "but listen to the words of the wise. I propose totake all our household stores that are of the most value to theisland, and lodge the rest safely in our new root-house, firstremoving from its neighbourhood all such light, loose matter as islikely to take fire. The earthen roof will save it from destruction. As to the shanty, it must take its chance to stand or fall. "

"The fence of the little clearing will be burned, no doubt. Well, never mind; better that than our precious selves. And the corn, fortunately, is not yet sown, " said Louis. 

Hector's advice met with general approval, and the girls soon set towork to secure the property they meant to leave. 

It was a fortunate thing that the root-house had been finished, as itformed a secure store-house for their goods, and could also be madeavailable as a hiding-place from the Indians, in time of need. Theboys carefully scraped away all the combustible matter from itsvicinity and that of the house; but the rapid increase of the fire nowwarned them to hurry down to join Catharine and the young Mohawk, whohad gone off to the lake shore with such things as they required totake with them. 

CHAPTER XI. 

 "I know a lake where the cool waves break And softly fall on the silver sand; And no stranger intrudes on that solitude, And no voices but ours disturb the strand. "

 _Irish Song_

The breeze had sprung up, and had already brought the fire down as faras the creek. The swamp had long been on fire; and now the flames wereleaping among the decayed timbers, roaring and crackling among thepines, and rushing to the tops of the cedars, springing from heap toheap of the fallen branches, and filling the air with dense volumes ofblack and suffocating smoke. So quickly did the flames advance thatHector and Louis had only time to push off the canoe before theheights along the shore were wrapped in smoke and fire. Many a giantoak and noble pine fell crashing to the earth, sending up showers ofred sparks as its burning trunk shivered in its fall. Glad to escapefrom the suffocating vapour, the boys quickly paddled out to theisland, enjoying the cool, fresh air of the lake. Reposing on thegrass beneath the trees, they passed the day sheltered from thenoonday sun, and watched the progress of the fire upon the shore. Atnight the girls slept securely under the canoe, which they raised onone side by means of forked sticks stuck in the ground. 

It was a grand sight to see the burning Plains at night reflected onthe water. A thousand flaming torches flickered upon its stillsurface, to which the glare of a gas-lighted city would have been dimand dull by contrast. 

Louis and Hector would speculate on the probable chances of the shantyescaping from the fire, and of the fence remaining untouched. Of thesafety of the root-house they entertained no fear, as the grass wasalready springing green on the earthen roof; and, below they had takenevery precaution to secure its safety, by scraping up the earth nearit. [Footnote: Many a crop of grain and comfortable homestead has beensaved by turning a furrow round the field; and great conflagrationshave been effectually stopped by men beating the fire out with spades, and hoeing up the fresh earth so as to cut off all communication withthe dry roots, grass, and leaves that feed its onward progress. Water, even could it be got, which is often impossible, is not nearly soeffectual in stopping the progress of fire; even women and littlechildren can assist in such emergencies. ]

Catharine lamented for the lovely spring-flowers that would bedestroyed by the fire. 

"We shall have neither huckleberries nor strawberries this summer, "she said mournfully; "and the pretty roses and bushes will bescorched, and the ground black and dreary. "

"The fire passes so rapidly over that it does not destroy many of theforest trees, only the dead ones are destroyed; and that, you know, leaves more space for the living ones to grow and thrive in, " saidHector. "I have seen the year after a fire has run in the bush, a newand fresh set of plants spring up, and even some that looked witheredrecover; the earth is renewed and manured by the ashes, and it is notso great a misfortune as it at first appears. "

"But how black and dismal the burned pine-woods look for years!" saidLouis; "I do not think there is a more melancholy sight in life thanone of those burned pine-woods. There it stands, year after year, withthe black, branchless trees pointing up to the blue sky, as if cryingfor vengeance against those that kindled the fire. "

"They do, indeed, look ugly, " said Catharine, "yet the girdled oneslook very nearly as ill. " [Footnote: The girdled pines are killed bybarking them round, to facilitate the clearing. ]

At the end of two days the fire had ceased to rage, though the dimsmoke-wreaths to the westward showed where the work of destruction wasstill going on. 

As there was no appearance of any Indians on the lake, nor yet at thepoint (Anderson's Point, as it is now called) on the other side, theyconcluded the fire had possibly originated by accident, --some casualhunter or trapper having left his camp-fire unextinguished; but asthey were not very likely to come across the scene of theconflagration, they decided on returning back to their old homewithout delay. It was with some feeling of anxiety that they hastenedto see what evil had befallen their shanty. 

"The shanty is burned!" was the simultaneous exclamation of both Louisand Hector, as they reached the rising ground that should havecommanded a view of its roof. "It is well for us that we secured ourthings in the root-house, " said Hector. 

"Well, if that is safe, who cares? we can soon build up a new house, larger and better than the old one, " said Louis. "The chief part ofour fence is gone, too, I see; but that, we can renew at our leisure;no hurry, if we get it done a month hence, say I. --Come, ma belle, donot look so sorrowful. There is our little squaw will help us to setup a capital wigwam while the new house is building. "

"But the nice table that you made, Louis, and the benches andshelves!"

"Never mind, Cathy; we will have better tables, and benches, andshelves too. Never fear, ma chere; the same industrious Louis willmake things comfortable. I am not sorry the old shanty is down; weshall have a famous one put up, twice as large, for the winter. Afterthe corn is planted we shall have nothing else to do but to thinkabout it. "

The next two or three days were spent in erecting a wigwam, with polesand birch bark; and as the weather was warm and pleasant, they did notfeel the inconvenience so much as they would have done had it beenearlier in the season. The root-house formed an excellent store-houseand pantry; and Indiana contrived, in putting up the wigwam, to leavecertain loose folds between the birch-bark lining and outer covering, which formed a series of pouches or bags, in which many articles couldbe stowed away out of sight. [Footnote: In this way the winter wigwamsof the Indians are constructed so as to give plenty of stowing roomfor all their little household matters, materials for work, &c. ]

While the girls were busy contriving the arrangements of the wigwam, the two boys were not idle. The time was come for planting the corn; asuccession of heavy thunder-showers had soaked and softened thescorched earth, and rendered the labour of moving it much easier thanthey had anticipated. They had cut for themselves wooden trowels, withwhich they raised the hills for the seed. The corn planted, they nextturned their attention to cutting house-logs; those which they hadprepared had been burned up, so they had their labour to begin again. 

The two girls proved good helps at the raising; and in the course of afew weeks they had the comfort of seeing a more commodious dwellingthan the former one put up. The finishing of this, with weeding theIndian corn, renewing the fence, and fishing, and trapping, andshooting partridges and ducks and pigeons, fully occupied their timethis summer. The fruit season was less abundant this year than theprevious one. The fire had done this mischief, and they had to go fara-field to collect fruits during the summer months. 

It so happened that Indiana had gone out early one morning with theboys, and Catharine was alone. She had gone down to the spring forwater, and on her return, was surprised at the sight of a squaw andher family of three half-grown lad, and an innocent little brownpapoose. [Footnote: An Indian baby, but "papoose" is not an Indianword. It is probably derived from the Indian imitation of the word"_babies_. "] In their turn the strangers seemed equally astonished atCatharine's appearance. The smiling aspect and good-natured laugh ofthe female, however, soon reassured the frightened girl, and shegladly gave her the water which she had in her birch dish, on hersignifying her desire for drink. To this Catharine added some berriesand dried venison, and a bit of maple sugar, which was received withgrateful looks by the boys; she patted the brown baby, and was gladwhen the mother released it from its wooden cradle, and fed and nursedit. The squaw seemed to notice the difference between the colour ofher young hostess's fair skin and her own swarthy hue; for she oftentook her hand, stripped up the sleeve of her dress, and compared herarm with her own, uttering exclamations of astonishment and curiosity:possibly Catharine was the first of a fair-skinned race this poorsavage had ever seen. After her meal was finished, she set the birchendish on the floor, and restrapping the papoose in its cradle prison, she slipped the basswood-bark rope over her forehead, and silentlysigning to her sons to follow her, she departed. That evening a pairof ducks were found fastened to the wooden latch of the door, a silentoffering of gratitude for the refreshment that had been afforded tothis Indian woman and her children. 

Indiana thought, from Catharine's description, that these were Indianswith whom she was acquainted; she spent some days in watching the lakeand the ravine, lest a larger and more formidable party should benear. The squaw, she said, was a widow, and went by the name of MotherSnowstorm, from having been lost in the woods, when a little child, during a heavy storm of snow, and nearly starved to death. She was agentle, kind woman, and, she believed, would not do any of them hurt. Her sons were good hunters, and, though so young, helped to supporttheir mother, and were very good to her and the little one. 

I must now pass over a considerable interval of time, with merely abrief notice that the crop of corn was carefully harvested, and provedabundant, and a source of great comfort. The rice was gathered andstored, and plenty of game and fish laid by, with an additional storeof honey. 

The Indians, for some reason, did not pay their accustomed visit tothe lake this season. Indiana said they might be engaged with waramong some hostile tribes, or had gone to other hunting-grounds. Thewinter was unusually mild, and it was long before it set in. Yet thespring following was tardy, and later than usual. It was the latterend of May before vegetation had made any very decided progress. 

The little log-house presented a neat and comfortable appearance, bothwithin and without. Indiana had woven a handsome mat of bass bark forthe floor; Louis and Hector had furnished it with seats and a table, rough, but still very respectably constructed, considering their onlytools were a tomahawk, a knife, and wooden wedges for splitting thewood into slabs. These Louis afterwards smoothed with great care andpatience. Their bedsteads were furnished with thick, soft mats, wovenby Indiana and Catharine from rushes which they cut and dried; but thelittle squaw herself preferred lying on a mat or deerskin on the floorbefore the fire, as she had been accustomed. 

A new field had been enclosed, and a fresh crop of corn planted, whichwas now green and flourishing. Peace and happiness dwelt within thelog-house; but for the regrets that ever attended the remembrance ofall they had left and lost, no cloud would have dimmed the serenity ofthose who dwelt beneath its humble roof. 

The season of flowers had again arrived; the earth, renovated by thefire of the former year, bloomed with fresh beauty; June, with itsfragrant store of roses and lilies, was now far advanced--theanniversary of that time when they had left their beloved parents'roofs, to become sojourners in the lonely wilderness, had returned. They felt they had much to be grateful for. Many privations, it istrue, and much anxiety they had felt; but they had enjoyed blessingsbeyond what they could have expected, and might, like the psalmistwhen recounting the escapes of the people of God, have said, "Oh thatmen would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and the wondersthat he doeth for the children of men. " And now they declared nogreater evil could befall them than to lose one of their little party, for even Indiana had become as a dear and beloved sister; hergentleness, her gratitude, and faithful trusting love seemed each dayto increase. Now, indeed, she was bound to them by a yet more sacredtie, for she knelt to the same God, and acknowledged with ferventlove, the mercies of her Redeemer. She had made great progress inlearning their language, and had also taught her friends to speak andunderstand much of her own tongue, so that they were now no longer ata loss to converse with her on any subject. Thus was this Indian girlunited to them in bonds of social and Christian love. 

Hector, Louis, and Indiana had gone over the hills to follow the trackof a deer which had paid a visit to the young corn, now sprouting andshowing symptoms of shooting up to blossom. Catharine usuallypreferred staying at home and preparing the meals against theirreturn. She had gathered some fine ripe strawberries, to add to thestewed rice, Indian meal cake, and maple sugar, for their dinner. Shewas weary and warm, for the day had been hot and sultry. Seatingherself on the threshold of the door, she leaned against thedoor-post, and closed her eyes. Perhaps the poor child's thoughts werewandering back to her far-off, unforgotten home, or she might bethinking of the hunters and their game. Suddenly a vague, undefinablefeeling of dread stole over her mind. She heard no steps, she felt nobreath, she saw no form; but there was a strange consciousness thatshe was not alone--that some unseen being was near, some eye was uponher. I have heard of sleepers starting from sleep the most profoundwhen the noiseless hand of the assassin has been raised to destroythem, as if the power of the human eye could be felt through theclosed lids. 

Thus fared it with Catharine. She felt as if some unseen enemy wasnear her, and springing to her feet, she cast a wild, troubled glancearound. No living being met her eye; and, ashamed of her cowardice, she resumed her seat. The tremulous cry of her little gray squirrel, apet which she had tamed and taught to nestle in her bosom, attractedher attention. 

"What aileth thee, wee dearie?" she said tenderly, as the timid littlecreature crept trembling to her breast. "Thy mistress has seared theeby her own foolish fears. See, now, there is neither catamount norweasel here to seize thee, silly one;" and as she spoke, she raisedher head and flung back the thick clusters of soft fair hair thatshaded her eyes. The deadly glare of a pair of dark eyes fixed uponher met her terrified gaze, gleaming with sullen ferocity from theangle of the door-post, whence the upper part of the face alone wasvisible, partly concealed by a mat of tangled, shaggy black hair. Paralyzed with fear, the poor girl neither spoke nor moved; sheuttered no cry; but pressing her hands tightly across her breast, asif to still the loud beating of her heart, she sat gazing upon thatfearful appearance, while, with stealthy step, the savage advancedfrom his lurking-place, keeping, as he did so, his eyes riveted uponhers, with such a gaze as the wily serpent is said to fascinate itsprey. His hapless victim moved not:--whither could she flee to escapeone whose fleet foot could so easily have overtaken her in the race?where conceal herself from him whose wary eye fixed upon her seemed todeprive her of all vital energy?

Uttering that singular, expressive guttural which seems with theIndian to answer the purpose of every other exclamation, he advanced, and taking the girl's ice-cold hands in his, tightly bound them with athong of deer-hide, and led her unresistingly away. By a circuitouspath through the ravine they reached the foot of the mount, where laya birch canoe, rocking gently on the waters, in which a middle-agedfemale and a young girl were seated. The females asked no questions, and expressed no word indicative of curiosity or surprise, as thestrong arm of the Indian lifted his captive into the canoe, and madesigns to the elder squaw to push from the shore. When all had takentheir places, the woman, catching up a paddle from the bottom of thelittle vessel, stood up, and with a few rapid strokes sent it skimmingover the lake. 

The miserable captive, overpowered with the sense of her calamitoussituation, bowed down her head upon her knees, and concealing heragitated face in her garments, wept in silent agony. Visions of horrorpresented themselves to her bewildered brain; all that Indiana haddescribed of the cruelty of this vindictive race came vividly beforeher mind. Poor child, what miserable thoughts were thine during thatbrief voyage!

Had the Indians also captured her friends? or was she alone to be thevictim of their vengeance? What would be the feelings of those belovedones on returning to their home and finding it desolate! Was there nohope of release? As these ideas chased each other through her agitatedmind, she raised her eyes, all streaming with tears, to the faces ofthe Indian and his companions with so piteous a look that any heartbut the stoical one of an Indian would have softened at its sadappeal; but no answering glance of sympathy met hers, no eye gave backits silent look of pity--not a nerve or a muscle moved the cold, apathetic features of the Indians; and the woe-stricken girl againresumed her melancholy attitude, burying her face in her heaving bosomto hide its bitter emotions from the heartless strangers. 

She was not fully aware that it is part of the Indian's education tohide the inward feelings of the heart, to check all those soft andtender emotions which distinguish the civilized man from the savage. 

It does indeed need the softening influence of that powerful Spirit, which was shed abroad into the world to turn the hearts of thedisobedient to the wisdom of the just, to break down the strongholdsof unrighteousness, and to teach man that he is by nature the child ofwrath and victim of sin, and that in his unregenerated nature hiswhole mind is at enmity with God and his fellow-men, and that in hisflesh dwelleth no good thing. And the Indian has acknowledged thatpower; he has cast his idols of cruelty and revenge, those virtues onwhich he prided himself in the blindness of his heart, to the molesand the bats; he has bowed and adored at the foot of the Cross. But itwas not so in the days whereof I have spoken. 

CHAPTER XII. 

 "Must this sweet new-blown rose find such a winter Before her spring be past?"

 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

The little bark touched the stony point of Long Island. The Indianlifted his weeping prisoner from the canoe, and motioned to her tomove forward along the narrow path that led to the camp, about twentyyards higher up the bank, where there was a little grassy spotenclosed with shrubby trees; the squaws tarried at the lake-shore tobring up the paddles and secure the canoe. 

It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of an enemy, but doublyso when that enemy is a stranger to the language in which we wouldplead for mercy, whose god is not our God, nor his laws those by whichwe ourselves are governed. Thus felt the poor captive as she stoodalone, mute with terror, among the half-naked, dusky forms with whichshe now found herself surrounded. She cast a hurried glance round thatstrange assembly, if by chance her eye might rest upon some dearfamiliar face; but she saw not the kind but grave face of Hector, normet the bright sparkling eyes of her cousin Louis, nor the soft, subdued, pensive features of the Indian girl, her adopted sister. Shestood alone among those wild, gloomy-looking men; some turned awaytheir eyes as if they would not meet her woe-stricken countenance, lest they should be moved to pity her sad condition. No wonder that, overcome by the sense of her utter forlornness, she hid her face withher fettered hands and wept in despair. But the Indian's sympathy isnot moved by tears and sighs; calmness, courage, defiance of danger, and contempt of death, are what he venerates and admires even in anenemy. 

The Indians beheld her grief unmoved. At length the old man, whoseemed to be a chief among the rest, motioned to one of the women wholeaned against the side of the wigwam to come forward and lead awaythe stranger. Catharine, whose senses were beginning to be morecollected, heard the old man give orders that she was to be fed andcared for. Gladly did she escape from the presence of those pitilessmen, from whose gaze she shrunk with maidenly modesty. And now whenalone with the women she hesitated not to make use of that naturallanguage which requires not the aid of speech to make itselfunderstood. Clasping her hands imploringly, she knelt at the feet ofthe Indian woman, her conductress, kissed her dark hands, and bathedthem with her fast-flowing tears, while she pointed passionately tothe shore where lay the happy home from which she had been so suddenlytorn. 

The squaw, though she evidently comprehended the meaning of herimploring gestures, shook her head, and in plaintive earnest tonereplied in her own language that she must go with the canoes to theother shore, and she pointed to the north as she spoke. She thenmotioned to the young girl--the same that had been Catharine'scompanion in the canoe--to bring a hunting-knife which was thrust intoone of the folds of the birch-bark of the wigwam. Catharine beheld thedeadly weapon in the hands of the Indian woman with a pang of agony asgreat as if its sharp edge was already at her throat. So young--soyoung, to die by a cruel bloody death! what had been her crime? Howshould she find words to soften the heart of her murderess? The powerof utterance seemed denied. She cast herself on her knees and held upher hands in silent prayer; not to the dreaded Indian woman, but toHim who heareth the prayer of the poor destitute--who alone can orderthe unruly wills and affections of men. 

The squaw stretched forth one dark hand and grasped the arm of theterror-stricken girl, while the other held the weapon of destruction. With a quick movement she severed the thongs that bound the fetteredwrists of the pleading captive, and with a smile that seemed to lightup her whole face she raised her from her prostrate position, laid herhand upon her young head and with an expression of good-humouredsurprise lifted the flowing tresses of her sunny hair and spread themover the back of her own swarthy hand; then, as if amused by thestriking contrast, she shook down her own jetty-black hair and twineda tress of it with one of the fair-haired girl's, then laughed tillher teeth shone like pearls within her red lips. Many were theexclamations of childish wonder that broke from the other females asthey compared the snowy arm of the stranger with their own duskyskins: it was plain that they had no intention of harming her, and bydegrees distrust and dread of her singular companions began in somemeasure to subside. 

The squaw motioned her to take a seat on a mat beside her, and gaveher a handful of parched rice and some deer's flesh to eat; butCatharine's heart was too heavy. She was suffering from thirst; and onpronouncing the Indian word for water, the young girl snatched up apiece of birch-bark from the floor of the tent, and gathering thecorners together, ran to the lake, and soon returned with water inthis most primitive drinking-vessel, which she held to the lips of herguest, and she seemed amused by the long, deep draught with whichCatharine slaked her thirst. Something like a gleam of hope came overCatharine's mind as she marked the look of kindly feeling with whichshe caught the young Indian girl regarding her, and she strove toovercome the choking sensation that would from time to time rise toher throat as she fluctuated between hope and fear. The position ofthe Indian camp was so placed that it was quite hidden from the shoreand Catharine could neither see the mouth of the ravine, nor the steepside of the mount that her brother and cousin were accustomed toascend and descend in their visits to the lake-shore, nor had she anymeans of making a signal to them even if she had seen them on thebeach. 

The long, anxious, watchful night passed, and soon after sunrise, while the morning mists still hung over the lake, the canoes of theIndians were launched, and long before noon they were in the mouth ofthe river. Catharine's heart sunk within her as the fast recedingshores of the lake showed each minute fainter in the distance. Atmid-day they halted at a fine bend in the river, and landed on a smallopen place where a creek flowing down through the woods afforded themcool water; here they found several tents put up and a larger partyawaiting their return. The river was here a fine, broad, deep, andtranquil stream; trees of many kinds fringed the edge, beyond was theunbroken forest, whose depths had never been pierced by the step ofman--so thick and luxuriant was the vegetation that even the Indiancould hardly have penetrated through its dark, swampy glades: far asthe eye could reach, that impenetrable, interminable wall of verdurestretched away into the far-off distance. 

All the remainder of that sad day Catharine sat on the grass under ashady tree, her eyes mournfully fixed on the slow-flowing waters, andwondering at her own hard fate in being thus torn from her home andits dear inmates. Bad as she had thought her separation from herfather and mother and her brothers, when she first left her home tobecome a wanderer on the Rice Lake Plains, how much more dismal nowwas her situation, snatched from the dear companions who had upheldand cheered her on in all her sorrows! Now that she was alone withnone to love or cherish or console her, she felt a desolation ofspirit that almost made her forgetful of the trust that had hithertoalways sustained her in time of trouble or sickness. She looked round, and her eye fell on the strange, unseemly forms of men and women whocared not for her, and to whom she was an object of indifference oraversion; she wept when she thought of the grief her absence wouldoccasion to Hector and Louis; the thought of their distress increasedher own. 

The soothing quiet of the scene, with the low, lulling sound of thelittle brook as its tiny wavelets fell tinkling over the mossy rootsand stones that impeded its course to the river, joined with fatigueand long exposure to the sun and air, caused her at length to fallasleep. The last rosy light of the setting sun was dyeing the waterswith a glowing tint when she awoke; a soft blue haze hung upon thetrees; the kingfisher and dragon-fly, and a solitary loon, were theonly busy things abroad on the river, --the first darting up and downfrom an upturned root, near the water's edge, feeding its younglings;the dragon-fly hawking with rapid whirring sound for insects; and theloon, just visible from above the surface of the still stream, sailingquietly on companionless like her who watched its movements. 

The bustle of the hunters returning with game and fish to theencampment roused many a sleepy brown papoose; the fires were renewed, the evening was now preparing, and Catharine, chilled by the fallingdew, crept to the enlivening warmth. And here she was pleased at beingrecognized by one friendly face; it was the mild, benevolentcountenance of the widow Snowstorm, who, with her three sons, came tobid her to share their camp fire and food. The kindly grasp of thehand and the beaming smile that were given by this good creature, albeit she was ugly and ill-featured, cheered the sad captive's heart. She had given her a cup of cold water and such food as her log-cabinafforded; in return the good Indian took her to her wigwam and fed, warmed, and cherished her with the loving-kindness of a Christian. During all her sojourn in the Indian camp, the widow Snowstorm was asa tender mother to her, drying her tears and showing her those littleacts of attention that even the untaught Indians know are grateful tothe sorrowful and destitute. Catharine often forgot her own griefs torepay this worthy creature's kindness, by attending to her littlebabe, and assisting her in her homely cookery or household work. Sheknew that a selfish indulgence in sorrow would do her no good, andafter the lapse of some days she so well disciplined her own heart asto check her tears, at least in the presence of the Indian women, andto assume an air of comparative cheerfulness. Once she found Indianwords enough to ask the Indian widow to convey her back to the lake, but she shook her head and bade her not think anything about it; andadded that in autumn, when the ducks came to the rice-beds, theyshould all return, and then if she could obtain leave from the chief, she would restore her to her lodge on the Plains; but signified to herthat patience was her only present remedy, and that submission to thewill of the chief was her wisest plan. Comforted by this vaguepromise, Catharine strove to be reconciled to her strange lot andstill stranger companions. She was surprised at the want of curiosityrespecting her evinced by the Indians in the wigwam when she wasbrought thither; they appeared to take little notice that a stranger, and one so dissimilar to themselves, had been introduced into thecamp. Catharine learned, by long acquaintance with this people, thatan outward manifestation of surprise is considered a want of etiquetteand good-breeding, or rather a proof of weakness and childishness. Thewomen, like other females, are certainly less disposed to repress thisfeeling of inquisitiveness than the men; and one of their greatsources of amusement, when Catharine was among them, was examining thedifference of texture and colour of her skin and hair, and holdinglong consultations over them. The young girl and her mother, who hadpaddled the canoe the day she was carried away to the island, showedher much kindness in a quiet way. The young squaw was grand-daughterto the old chief, and seemed to be regarded with considerable respectby the rest of the women; she was a gay, lively creature, oftenlaughing, and seemed to enjoy an inexhaustible fund of good humour. She extended her patronage to the young stranger by making her eat outof her own bark-dish and sit beside her on her own mat. She wove achain for her of the sweet-scented grass with which the Indiansdelight in adorning themselves, likewise in perfuming their lodgeswith bunches or strewings upon the floor. She took great pains inteaching her how to acquire the proper attitude of sitting, after thefashion of the Eastern nations, which position the Indian women assumewhen at rest in their wigwams. 

The Indian name of this little damsel signified the "snow-bird. " Shewas, like that lively, restless bird, always flitting from tent totent, as garrulous and as cheerful too as that merry little herald ofthe spring. 

Once she seemed particularly attracted by Catharine's dress, which sheexamined with critical minuteness, evincing great surprise at the cutfringes of dressed doe-skin with which Indiana had ornamented theborder of the short jacket she had manufactured for Catharine. Thesefringes she pointed out to the notice of the women, and even the oldchief was called in to examine the dress; nor did the leggings andmoccasins escape their observation. There was something mysteriousabout her garments. Catharine was at a loss to imagine what causedthose deep guttural exclamations, somewhat between a grunt and agroan, that burst from the lips of the Indians, as they one by oneexamined her dress with deep attention. These people had recognized inthese things the peculiar fashion and handiwork of the young Mohawkgirl whom they had exposed to perish by hunger and thirst on BareHill; and much their interest was excited to learn by what meansCatharine had become possessed of a dress wrought by the hand of onewhom they had numbered with the dead. Strange and mysterious did itseem to them, and warily did they watch the unconscious object oftheir wonder. 

The knowledge she possessed of the language of her friend Indianaenabled Catharine to comprehend a great deal of what was said; yet sheprudently refrained from speaking in the tongue of one to whose wholenation she knew these people to be hostile. But she sedulouslyendeavoured to learn their own peculiar dialect; and in this shesucceeded in an incredibly short time, so that she was soon able toexpress her own wants, and converse a little with the females who wereabout her. 

She had noticed that among the tents there was one which stood apartfrom the rest, and was only visited by the old chief and hisgrand-daughter, or by the elder women. At first she imagined it wassome sick person, or a secret tent set apart for the worship of theGreat Spirit; but one day, when the chief of the people had gone upthe river hunting, and the children were asleep, the curtain of skinswas drawn back, and a female of singular and striking beauty appearedin the open space in front. She was habited in a fine tunic of whitedressed doe-skin, richly embroidered with coloured beads and stainedquills; a full petticoat of dark cloth bound with scarlet descended toher ankles; leggings fringed with deerskin, knotted with bands ofcoloured quills, with richly wrought moccasins on her feet. On herhead she wore a coronet of scarlet and black feathers; her longshining tresses of raven hair descended to her waist, each thick tressconfined with a braided band of quills, dyed scarlet and blue. She wastall and well-formed; her large, liquid, dark eyes wore an expressionso proud and mournful that Catharine felt her own involuntarily fillwith tears as she gazed upon this singular being. She would haveapproached nearer to her, but a spell seemed on her; she shrunk backtimid and abashed beneath that wild, melancholy glance. It was she, the Beam of the Morning, the self-made widow of the young Mohawk, whose hand had wrought so fearful a vengeance on the treacherousdestroyer of her brother. She stood there, at the tent-door, arrayedin her bridal robes, as on the day when she received her death-doomedvictim. And when she recalled her fearful deed, shuddering withhorror, Catharine drew back and shrouded herself within the tent, fearing again to fall under the eye of that terrible woman. Sheremembered how Indiana had told her that since that fatalmarriage-feast she had been kept apart from the rest of the tribe, --she was regarded by her people as a sacred character, entitled the_Great Medicine, _ a female _brave, _ a being whom they regardedwith mysterious reverence. She had made this great sacrifice for thegood of her nation. Indiana said it was believed among her own folkthat she had loved the young Mohawk passionately, as a tender womanloves the husband of her youth; yet she had not hesitated to sacrificehim with her own hand. Such was the deed of the Indian heroine--andsuch were the virtues of the unregenerated Greeks and Romans!

CHAPTER XIII. 

 "Now where the wave, with loud, unquiet song, Dashed o'er the rocky channel, froths along, Or where the silver waters soothed to rest, The tree's tall shadow sleeps upon its breast. "

 --COLERIDGE. 

The Indian camp remained for nearly three weeks on this spot, and thenearly one morning the wigwams were all taken down, and the canoes, sixin number, proceeded up the river. There was very little variety inthe scenery to interest Catharine. The river still kept itsslow-flowing course between low shores thickly clothed with trees, without an opening through which the eye might pierce to form an ideaof the country beyond; not a clearing, not a sight or sound ofcivilized man was there to be seen or heard; the darting flight of thewild birds as they flitted across from one side to the other, thetapping of the woodpecker, or shrill cry of the blue jay was all thatwas heard, from sunrise to sunset, on that monotonous voyage. Aftermany hours, a decided change was perceived in the current, which ranat a considerable increase of swiftness, so that it required theunited energy of both men and women to keep the light vessels fromdrifting down the river again. They were in the rapids, and it washard work to stem the tide and keep the upward course of the waters. At length the rapids were passed, and the weary Indian voyagers restedfor a space on the bosom of a small but tranquil lake. The rising moonshed her silvery light upon the calm water, and heaven's stars shonedown into its quiet depths, as the canoes with their dusky freightparted the glittering rays with their light paddles. As they proceededonward the banks rose on either side, still fringed with pines, cedars, and oaks. At an angle of the lake the banks on either side ranout into two opposite peninsulas, forming a narrow passage or gorge, contracting the lake once more into the appearance of a broad river, much wider from shore to shore than any other part they had passedthrough since they had left the entrance at the Rice Lake. 

Catharine became interested in the change of scenery; her eye dweltwith delight on the forms of glorious spreading oaks and lofty pines, green cliff-like shores, and low wooded islands; while, as theyproceeded, the sound of rapid-flowing waters met her ear, and soon thewhite and broken eddies, rushing along with impetuous course, wereseen by the light of the moon; and while she was wondering if thecanoes were to stem those rapids, at a signal from the old chief, thelittle fleet was pushed to shore on a low flat of emerald verdure, nearly opposite to the last island. 

Here, under the shelter of some beautiful spreading black oaks, thewomen prepared to set up their wigwams. They had brought the poles andbirch-bark covering from the encampment below, and soon all was bustleand business, unloading the canoes and raising the tents. EvenCatharine lent a willing hand to assist the females in bringing up thestores and sundry baskets containing fruits and other small wares. Shethen kindly attended to the Indian children--certain dark-skinnedbabes, who, bound upon their wooden cradles, were either set upagainst the trunks of the trees, or swung to some lowly dependingbranch, there to remain helpless and uncomplaining spectators of thescene. 

Catharine thought these Indian babes were almost as much to be pitiedas herself, only that they were unconscious of their imprisoned state, having from birth been used to no better treatment, and moreover theywere sure to be rewarded by the tender caresses of loving mothers whenthe season of refreshment and repose arrived but she, alas! wasfriendless and alone, bereft of father, mother, kindred, and friends. One Father, one Friend, poor Catharine, thou hadst, even he, theFather of the fatherless. 

That night, when the women and children were sleeping, Catharine stoleout of the wigwam, and climbed the precipitous bank beneath theshelter of which the lodges had been erected. She found herself upon agrassy plain, studded with majestic oaks and pines, so beautifullygrouped that they might have been planted by the hand of taste uponthat velvet turf. It was a delightful contrast to those dense darkforests through which for so many many miles the waters of theOtonabee had flowed on monotonously; here it was all wild and free, dashing along like a restive steed rejoicing in its liberty, uncurbedand tameless. 

Yes, here it was beautiful! Catharine gazed with joy upon the rushingriver, and felt her own heart expand as she marked its rapid course asit bounded murmuring and fretting over its rocky bed. "Happy, gloriouswaters! you are not subject to the power of any living creature; nocanoe can ascend those surging waves. I would that I too, like thee, were free to pursue my onward way; how soon would I flee away and beat rest!" Such thoughts passed through the mind of the lonely captivegirl, as she sat at the foot of a giant oak, and looked abroad overthose moonlit waters, till oppressed by an overwhelming sense of theutter loneliness of the scene, the timid girl with faltering stephurried down once more to the wigwams, silently crept to the mat whereher bed was spread, and soon forgot all her woes and wanderings indeep, tranquil sleep. 

Catharine wondered that the Indians in erecting their lodges alwaysseemed to prefer the low, level, and often swampy grounds by the lakesand rivers in preference to the higher and more healthy elevations. Sodisregardful are they of this circumstance, that they do not hesitateto sleep where the ground is saturated with moisture. They will thenlay a temporary flooring of cedar or any other bark beneath theirfeet, rather than remove the tent a few feet higher up, where a driersoil may always be found. This arises either from stupidity orindolence, perhaps from both, but it is no doubt the cause of much ofthe sickness that prevails among them. With his feet stretched to thefire, the Indian cares for nothing else when reposing in his wigwam, and it is useless to urge the improvement that might be made in hiscomfort; he listens with a face of apathy, and utters his everlastingguttural, which saves him the trouble of a more rational reply. 

"Snow-bird" informed Catharine that the lodges would not again beremoved for some time, but that the men would hunt and fish, while thesquaws pursued their domestic labours. Catharine perceived that thechief of the laborious part of the work fell to the share of thefemales, who were very much more industrious and active than theirhusbands; those, when not out hunting or fishing, were to be seenreposing in easy indolence under the shade of the trees, or before thetent fires, giving themselves little concern about anything that wasgoing on. The squaws were gentle, humble, and submissive; they borewithout a murmur pain, labour, hunger, and fatigue, and seemed toperform every task with patience and good-humour. They made thecanoes, in which the men sometimes assisted them, pitched the tents, converted the skins of the animals which the men shot into clothes, cooked the victuals, manufactured baskets of every kind, wove mats, dyed the quills of the porcupine, sewed the moccasins, and, in short, performed a thousand tasks which it would be difficult to enumerate. 

Of the ordinary household work, such as is familiar to Europeanfemales, they of course knew nothing; they had no linen to wash oriron, no floors to clean, no milking of cows, nor churning of butter. 

Their carpets were fresh cedar boughs spread on the ground, and onlyrenewed when they became offensively dirty from the accumulation offish-bones and other offal, which are carelessly flung down duringmeals. Of furniture they had none; their seat the ground, their tablethe same, their beds mats or skins of animals, --such were the domesticarrangements of the Indian camp. [Footnote: Much improvement has takenplace of late years in the domestic economy of the Indians, and someof their dwellings are clean and neat even for Europeans. ]

In the tent to which Catharine belonged, which was that of the widowand her sons, a greater degree of order and cleanliness prevailed thanin any other; for Catharine's natural love of neatness and comfortinduced her to strew the floor with fresh cedar or hemlock every dayor two, and to sweep round the front of the lodge, removing allunseemly objects from its vicinity. She never failed to wash herselfin the river, and arrange her hair with the comb Louis had made forher; and she took great care of the little child, which she kept cleanand well fed. She loved this little creature, for it was soft andgentle, meek and playful as a little squirrel; and the Indian mothersall looked with kinder eyes upon the white maiden, for the lovingmanner in which she tended their children. The heart of woman isseldom cold to those who cherish their offspring, and Catharine beganto experience the truth that the exercise of human charities isequally beneficial to those who give and those who receive; thesethings fall upon the heart as dew upon a thirsty soil, giving andcreating a blessing. But we will leave Catharine for a short season, among the lodges of the Indians, and return to Hector and Louis. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

 "Cold and forsaken, destitute of friends, And all good comforts else, unless some tree Whose speechless chanty doth better ours, With which the bitter east winds made their sport, And sang through hourly, hath invited thee To shelter half a day. Shall she be thus, And I draw in soft slumbers?"

 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. 

It was near sunset before Hector and his companions returned on theevening of the eventful day that had found Catharine a prisoner onLong Island. They had met with good success in hunting, and broughthome a fine half-grown fawn, fat and in good order. They weresurprised at finding the fire nearly extinguished, and no Catharineawaiting their return. There, it is true, was the food that she hadprepared for them, but she was not to be seen. Supposing that she hadbeen tired of waiting for them, and had gone out to gatherstrawberries, they did not at first feel anxious, but ate of the riceand honey, for they were hungry with long fasting. Then taking someIndian meal cake in their hands, they went out to call her in; but notrace of her was visible. Fearing she had set off by herself to seekthem, and had missed her way home again, they hurried back to thehappy valley, --she was not there; to Pine-tree Point, --no trace of herthere; to the edge of the mount that overlooked the lake, --she was notto be seen: night found them unsuccessful in their search. Sometimesthey fancied that she had seated herself beneath some tree and fallenasleep; but no one imagined the true cause, nothing having been seenof the Indians since they had proceeded up the river. 

Again they retraced their steps back to the house; but they found hernot there. They continued their unavailing search till the moonsetting left them in darkness, and they lay down to rest, but not tosleep. The first streak of dawn saw them again hurrying to and fro, calling in vain upon the name of the loved and lost companion of theirwanderings. 

Indiana, whose vigilance was untiring--for she yielded not easily togrief and despair--now returned with the intelligence that she haddiscovered the Indian trail, through the big ravine to the lake-shore;she had found the remains of a wreath of oak leaves which had beenworn by Catharine in her hair; and she had seen the mark of feet, Indian feet, on the soft clay at the edge of the lake, and thefurrowing of the shingles by the pushing off of a canoe. Poor Louisgave way to transports of grief and despair; he knew the wreath, itwas such as Catharine often made for herself, and Mathilde, and petiteLouise, and Marie; his mother had taught her to make them; they werelinked together by the stalks, and formed a sort of leaf chain. Louisplaced the torn relic in his breast, and sadly turned away to hide hisgrief from Hector and the Indian girl. 

Indiana now proposed searching the island for further traces, butadvised wariness in so doing. They saw, however, neither smoke norcanoes. The Indians had departed while they were searching the ravinesand flats round Mount Ararat, and the lake told no tales, Thefollowing day they ventured to land on Long Island, and on going tothe north side saw evident traces of a temporary encampment havingbeen made, but no trace of any violence having been committed. It wasIndiana's opinion that, though a prisoner, Catharine was unhurt, asthe Indians rarely killed women and children, unless roused to do soby some signal act on the part of their enemies, when an exterminatingspirit of revenge induced them to kill and spare not; but where nooffence had been offered, they were not likely to take the life of ahelpless, unoffending female. The Indian is not cruel for the wantonlove of blood, but to gratify revenge for some injury done to himselfor to his tribe. But it was difficult to still the terribleapprehensions that haunted the minds of Louis and Hector. They spentmuch time in searching the northern shores and the distant islands, inthe vain hope of finding her, as they still thought the camp mighthave been moved to the opposite side of the lake. 

Inconsolable for the loss of their beloved companion, Hector and Louisno longer took interest in what was going on; they hardly troubledthemselves to weed the Indian corn, in which they had taken such greatdelight; all now seemed to them flat, stale, and unprofitable; theywandered listlessly to and fro, silent and sad; the sunshine haddeparted from their little dwelling; they ate little, and talked less, each seeming absorbed in his own painful reveries. 

In vain the gentle Indian girl strove to revive their droopingspirits; they seemed insensible to her attentions, and often left herfor hours alone. They returned one evening about the usual hour ofsunset, and missed their meek, uncomplaining guest from the place shewas wont to occupy. They called, but there was none to reply, --she toowas gone. They hurried to the shore just time enough to see the canoediminishing to a mere speck upon the waters, in the direction of themouth of the river; they called to her, in accents of despair, toreturn, but the wind wafted back no sound to their ears and soon thebark was lost to sight, and they sat them down disconsolately on theshore. 

"What is she doing?" said Hector. "It is cruel to abandon us thus. "

"She has gone up the river, in the hope of bringing us some tidings ofCatharine, " said Louis. 

"How came you to think that such is her intention?"

"I heard her say the other day that she would go and bring her back, or die. "

"What! do you think she would risk the vengeance of the old chiefwhose life she attempted to take?"

"She is a brave girl; she does not fear pain or death to serve thoseshe loves. "

"How can she, unprotected and alone, dare such perils? Why did she nottell us? We would have shared her danger. "

"She feared for our lives more than for her own; that poor Indian girlhas a noble heart. I care not now what befalls us; we have lost allthat made life dear to us, " said Louis gloomily, sinking his headbetween his knees. 

"Hush, Louis; you are older than I, and ought to bear these trialswith more courage. It was our own fault Indiana's leaving us; we lefther so much alone to pine after her lost companion, she seemed tothink that we did not care for her. Poor Indiana, she must have feltlonely and sad. "

"I tell you what we will do, Hec, --make a log canoe. I found an oldbattered one lying on the shore, not far from Pine-tree Point. We havean axe and a tomahawk, --what should hinder us from making one likeit?"

"True! we will set about it to-morrow. "

"I wish it were morning, that we might set to work to cut down a goodpine for the purpose. "

"As soon as it is done, we will go up the river; anything is betterthan this dreadful suspense and inaction. "

The early dawn saw the two cousins busily engaged chopping at a treeof suitable dimensions. They worked hard all that day, and the next, and the next, before the canoe was hollowed out; but, owing to theirinexperience and the bluntness of their tools, their first attemptproved abortive--it was too heavy at one end, and did not balance wellin the water. 

Louis, who had been quite sure of success, was disheartened; not soHector. 

"Do not let us give it up: my maxim is perseverance; let us try again, and again--ay, and a fourth and a fifth time. I say, never give it up;that is the way to succeed at last. "

"You have ten times my patience, Hec. "

"Yes; but you are more ingenious than I, and are excellent at startingan idea. "

"We are a good pair then for partnership. "

"We will begin anew and this time I hope we shall profit by our pastblunders. "

"Who would imagine that it is now more than a month since we lostCatharine?"

"I know it--long, long, weary month, " replied Louis; and he struck hisaxe sharply into the bark of the pine as he spoke, and remained silentfor some minutes. The boys, wearied by chopping down the tree, restedfrom their work, and sat down on the side of the condemned canoe toresume their conversation. Suddenly Louis grasped Hector's arm, andpointed to a bark canoe that appeared making for the westernmost pointof the island. Hector started to his feet, exclaiming, "It is Indianareturned!"

"Nonsense! Indiana!--it is no such thing. Look you, it is a stout manin a blanket coat. "

"The Indians?" asked Hector, inquiringly. 

"I do not think he looks like an Indian; but let us watch. What is hedoing?"

"Fishing. See now, he has just caught a fine bass--another--he hasgreat luck--now he is pushing the canoe ashore. "

"That man does not move like an Indian--hark! he is whistling. I oughtto know that tune. It sounds like the old _chanson_ my father used tosing;" and Louis, raising his voice, began to sing the words of an oldFrench Canadian song, which we will give in the English, as we heardit sung by an old lumberer, --

 "Down by those banks where the pleasant waters flow, Through the wild woods we'll wander, and we'll chase the buffalo. And we'll chase the buffalo. "

"Hush, Louis! you will bring the man over to us, " said Hector. 

"The very thing I am trying to do, mon ami. This is our country, andthat may be his; but we are lords here, and two to one, so I think hewill not be likely to treat us ill. I am a man now, and so are you, and he is but one; so he must mind how he affronts us, " replied Louis, laughing. 

"Hark, if he is not singing now! ay, and the very chorus of the oldsong"--and Louis raised his voice to its highest pitch as he repeated, --

 "'Through the wild woods we'll wander, And we'll chase the buffalo --And we'll chase the buffalo. '

"What a pity I have forgotten the rest of that dear old song. I usedto listen with open ears to it when I was a boy. I never thought tohear it again, and to hear it here of all places in the world!"

"Come, let us go on with our work, " said Hector, with something likeimpatience in his voice, and the strokes of his axe fell once more inregular succession on the log; but Louis's eye was still on themysterious fisher, whom he could discern lounging on the grass andsmoking his pipe. "I do not think he sees or hears us, " said Louis tohimself, "but I think I'll manage to bring him over soon;" and he sethimself busily to work to scrape up the loose chips and shavings, andsoon began to strike fire with his knife and flint. 

"What are you about, Louis?" asked Hector. 

"Lighting a fire. "

"It is warm enough without a fire, I am sure. "

"I know that; but I want to attract the notice of yonder tiresomefisherman. "

"And perhaps bring a swarm of savages down upon us, who may be lurkingin the bushes of the island. "

"Pooh, pooh! Hec; there are no savages. I am weary of this place--anything is better than this horrible solitude. " And Louis fanned theflame into a rapid blaze, and heaped up the light dry branches till itsoared up among the bushes. Louis watched the effect of his fire, andrubbed his hands gleefully as the bark canoe was pushed off from theisland, and a few vigorous strokes of the paddle sent it dancing overthe surface of the calm lake. 

Louis waved his cap above his head with a cheer of welcome as thevessel lightly glided into the little cove, near the spot where theboys were chopping, and a stout-framed, weather-beaten man, in ablanket coat, also faded and weather-beaten, with a red worsted sashand worn moccasins, sprang upon one of the timbers of Louis's oldraft, and gazed with a keen eye upon the lads. Each party silentlyregarded the other. A few rapid interrogations from the stranger, uttered in the broad _patois_ of the Lower Province, were answered ina mixture of broken French and English by Louis. 

A change like lightning passed over the face of the old man as hecried out--"Louis Perron, son of my ancient compagnon!"

"Oui! oui!"--with eyes sparkling through tears of joy, Louis threwhimself into the broad breast of Jacob Morelle, his father's friendand old lumbering comrade. 

"Hector, son of la belle Catharine Perron!" and Hector, in his turn, received the affectionate embrace of the warm-hearted old man. 

"Who would have thought of meeting with the children of my old comradehere at the shore of the Rice Lake? Oh! what a joyful meeting!"

Jacob had a hundred questions to ask--Where were their parents? didthey live on the Plains now? how long was it since they had left theCold Springs? were there any more little ones? and so forth. 

The boys looked sorrowfully at each other. At last the old man stoppedfor want of breath, and remarked their sad looks. 

Hector told the old lumberer how long they had been separated fromtheir families, and by what sad accident they had been deprived of thesociety of their beloved sister. When they brought their narrativedown to the disappearance of Catharine, the whole soul of the oldtrapper seemed moved; he started from the log on which they weresitting, and with one of his national asseverations, declared "thathe, her father's old friend, would go up the river and bring her backin safety, or leave his gray scalp behind him among the wigwams. "

"It is too late, Jacob, to think of starting to-day, " said Hector. "Come home with us, and eat some food, and rest a bit. "

"No need of that, my son I have a lot of fish here in the canoe; andthere is an old shanty on the island yonder, if it be stillstanding--the Trapper's Fort I used to call it some years ago. We willgo off to the island and look for it. "

"No need for that, " replied Louis, "though I can tell you the oldplace is still in good repair, for we used it this very spring as aboiling-house for our maple sap. We have a better place of our ownnearer at hand--just two or three hundred yards over the brow ofyonder hill. So come with us, and you shall have a good supper, andbed to lie upon. "

"And you have all these, boys!" said Jacob opening his merry blackeyes, as they came in sight of the little log-house and the field ofgreen corn. 

The old man praised the boys for their industry and energy. "Ha! hereis old Wolfe too, " as the dog roused himself from the hearth, and gaveone of his low grumbling growls. He had grown dull and dreamy, andinstead of going out as usual with the young hunters, he would lie forhours dozing before the dying embers of the fire. He pined for theloving hand that used to pat his sides, caress his shaggy neck, andpillow his great head upon her lap, or suffer him to put his huge pawson her shoulders, while he licked her hands and face; but she wasgone, and the Indian girl was gone, and the light of the shanty hadgone with them. Old Wolfe seemed dying of sorrow. 

That evening, as Jacob sat on the three-legged stool smoking his shortIndian pipe, he again would have the whole story of their wanderingsover, and the history of all their doings and contrivances. 

"And how far do you think you are from the Cold Springs?"

"At least twenty miles, perhaps fifty; for it is a long, long time nowsince we left home--three summers ago. "

"Well, boys, you must not reckon distance by the time you have beenabsent, " said the old man. "Now, I know the distance through thewoods, for I have passed through them on the Indian trail, and by myreckoning, as the bee flies, it cannot be more than seven or eightmiles--no, nor that either. "

The boys opened their eyes. "Jacob, is this possible? So near, and yetto us the distance has been as great as though it were a hundred milesor more. "

"I tell you, boys, that is the provoking part of it. I remember, whenI was out on the St. John lumbering, missing my comrades, and I waswell-nigh starving, when I chanced to come back to the spot where weparted; and I verily believe I had not been two miles distant thewhole eight days that I was moving round and round, and backward andforward, just in a circle, because, d'ye see, I followed the sun, andthat led me astray the whole time. "

"Was that when you well-nigh roasted the bear?" asked Louis, with asly glance at Hector. 

"Well, no--that was another time; your father was out with me then. "And old Jacob, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, settled himself torecount the adventure of the bear. Hector, who had heard Louis'sedition of the roast bear, was almost impatient at being forced tolisten to old Jacob's long-winded history, which included about adozen other stories, all tagged on to this, like links of a lengthenedchain; and he was not sorry when the old lumberer, taking his rednight-cap out of his pocket, at last stretched himself out on abuffalo skin he had brought up from the canoe, and soon was soundlysleeping. 

The morning was yet gray when the old man shook himself from hisslumber; and, after having roused up a good fire, which, though thelatter end of July, at that dewy hour was not unwelcome, he lightedhis pipe, and began broiling a fish for his breakfast; and was thusengaged when Hector and Louis wakened. 

"I have been turning over in my mind about your sister, " said he, "andhave come to the resolution of going up the river alone without anyone to accompany me. I know the Indians: they are a suspicious people;they deal much in stratagems; and they are apt to expect treachery inothers. Perhaps they have had some reason; for the white men have notalways kept good faith with them, which I take to be the greatershame, as they have God's laws to guide and teach them to be true andjust in their dealing, which the poor benighted heathen have not, themore's the pity. Now, d'ye see, if the Indians see two stout lads withme, they will say to themselves there may be more left behind, skulking in ambush. So, boys, I go to the camp alone; and, Godwilling, I will bring back your sister, or die in the attempt. I shallnot go empty-handed; see, I have here scarlet cloth, beads, and powderand shot. I carry no fire-water: it is a sin and a shame to temptthese poor wretches to their own destruction; it makes fiends of themat once. "

It was to no purpose that Hector and Louis passionately besought oldJacob to let them share the dangers of the expedition; the old man wasfirm, and would not be moved from his purpose. 

"Look you, boys, " he said, "if I do not return by the beginning of therice-harvest, you may suppose that evil has befallen me and the girl. Then I would advise you to take care for your own safety; for if theydo not respect my gray head, neither will they spare your young ones. In such case make yourselves a good canoe--a dug-out [Footnote:Log-canoe] will do--and go down the lake till you are stopped by therapids; [Footnote: Heeley's Falls, on the Trent] make a portage there;but as your craft is too weighty te carry far, e'en leave her and chopout another, and go down to the falls; [Footnote: Crook's Rapids. ]then, if you do not like to be at any further trouble, you may makeout your journey to the bay [Footnote: Bay Quinte] on foot, coastingalong the river; there you will fall in with settlers who know oldJacob Morelle, ay, and your two fathers, and they will put you in theway of returning home. If I were to try ever so to put you on the oldIndian trail in the woods, though I know it myself right well, youmight be lost, and maybe never return home again. I leave my traps andmy rifle with you; I shall not need them. If I come back I may claimthe things; if not, they are yours. So now I have said my say, had my_talk_, as the Indians say. Farewell. But first let us pray toHim who alone can bring this matter to a safe issue. " And the old mandevoutly kneeled down, and prayed for a blessing on his voyage and onthose he was leaving; and then hastened down to the beach, and theboys, with full hearts, watched the canoe till it was lost to theirsight on the wide waters of the lake. 

CHAPTER XV. 

 "Where wild in woods the lordly savage ran. "

 --DRYDEN

The setting sun was casting long shadows of oak and weeping elmathwart the waters of the river; the light dip of the paddle hadceased on the water, the baying of hounds and life-like stirringsounds from the lodges came softened to the listening ear. The huntershad come in with the spoils of a successful chase; the wigwam tiresare flickering and crackling, sending up their light columns of thinblue smoke among the trees; and now a goodly portion of venison isroasting on the forked sticks before the fires. Each lodge has its owncooking utensils. That jar embedded in the hot embers containssassafras tea, an aromatic beverage in which the squaws delight whenthey are so fortunate as to procure a supply. This has been broughtfrom the Credit, far up in the west, by a family who have come down ona special mission from some great chief to his brethren on theOtonabee, and the squaws have cooked some in honour of the guests. That pot that sends up such a savoury steam is venison-pottage, orsoup, or stew, or any name you choose to give the Indian mess that isconcocted of venison, wild rice, and herbs. Those tired hounds thatlie stretched before the fire have been out, and now they enjoy theprivilege of the fire, some praise from the hunters, and receivewithal an occasional reproof from the squaws, if they approach theirwishful noses too close to the tempting viands. 

The elder boys are shooting at a mark on yonder birch-tree, the girlsare playing or rolling on the grass, the "Snow-Bird" is seated on thefloor of the wigwam braiding a necklace of sweet grass, which sheconfines in links by means of little bands of coloured quills, Catharine is working moccasins beside her. A dark shadow falls acrossher work from the open tent door; an exclamation of surprise anddispleasure from one of the women makes Catharine raise her eyes tothe doorway. There, silent, pale, and motionless, the mere shadow ofher former self, stands Indiana; a gleam of joy lights for an instanther large lustrous eyes. Amazement and delight at the sight of herbeloved friend for a moment deprive Catharine of the power of speech, then terror for the safety of her friend takes the place of her joy atseeing her. She rises regardless of the angry tones of the Indianwoman's voice, and throws her arms about Indiana, as if to shield herfrom threatened danger, and sobs her welcome in her arms. 

"Indiana, dear sister! how came you hither, and for what purpose?"

"To free you, and then die, " was the soft, low, tremulous answer. "Follow me. "

Catharine, wondering at the calm and fearless manner with which theyoung Mohawk waved back the dusky matron who approached as if with thedesign of laying hands upon her unwelcome guest, followed with beatingheart till they stood in the entrance of the lodge of the Bald Eagle. It was filled with the hunters, who were stretched on skins on thefloor, reposing in quiet after the excitement of the chase. 

The young Mohawk bent her head down and crossed her arms over herbreast, an attitude of submission, as she stood in the opening of thelodge; but she spoke no word till the old chief, waving back the menwho, starting to their feet, were gathering round him as if to shieldhim from danger, and sternly regarding her, demanded from whence shecame and for what purpose. 

"To submit myself to the will of my Ojebwa father, " was the meekreply. "May the daughter of the Bald Eagle's enemy speak to her greatfather?"

"Say on, " was the brief reply; "the Bald Eagle's ears are open. "

"The Bald Eagle is a mighty chief, the conqueror of his enemies, andthe father of his people, " replied the Mohawk girl, and again wassilent. 

"The Mohawk squaw speaks well; let her say on. "

"The heart of the Mohawk is an open flower; it can be looked upon bythe eye of the Great Spirit. She speaks the words of truth. The Ojebwachief slew his enemies: they had done his good heart wrong; hepunished them for the wrong they wrought; he left none living in thelodges of his enemies save one young squaw, the daughter of a brave, the grand-daughter of the Black Snake. The Bald Eagle loves even anenemy that is not afraid to raise the war-whoop or fling the tomahawkin battle. The young girl's mother was a brave. " She paused, while herproud eyes were fixed on the face of her aged auditor. He noddedassent, and she resumed, while a flush of emotion kindled her palecheek and reddened her lips:--

"The Bald Eagle brought the lonely one to his lodge; he buried thehatchet and the scalping-knife, he bade his squaws comfort her: buther heart was lonely, she pined for the homes of her fathers. Shesaid, I will revenge my father, my mother, and my brothers andsisters; and her heart burned within her. But her hand was not strongto shed blood; the Great Spirit was about my Ojebwa father. Shefailed, and would have fled, for an arrow was in her flesh. The peopleof the Bald Eagle took her; they brought her down the great river tothe council hill; they bound her with thongs, and left her to die. Sheprayed, and the Great Spirit heard her prayer and sent her help. Thewhite man came; his heart was soft: he unbound her, he gave water tocool her hot lips, he led her to his lodge. The white squaw (and shepointed to Catharine) was there; she bound up her wounds, she laid heron her own bed, she gave her meat and drink, and tended her with love. She taught her to pray to the Good Spirit, and told her to return goodfor evil, to be true and just, kind and merciful. The hard heart ofthe young girl became soft as clay when moulded for the pots, and sheloved her white sister and brothers, and was happy. The Bald Eagle'speople came when my white brothers were at peace; they found atrembling fawn within the lodge; they led her away; they left tearsand loneliness where joy and peace had been. The Mohawk squaw couldnot see the hearth of her white brothers desolate. She took the canoe;she came to the lodge of the great father of his tribe, and she saysto him, Give back the white squaw to her home on the Rice Lake, andtake in her stead the rebellious daughter of the Ojebwa's enemy, todie or be his servant; she fears not now the knife or the tomahawk, the arrow or the spear: her life is in the hand of the great chief. "She sank on her knees as she spoke these last words, and bowing downher head on her breast remained motionless as a statue. 

There was silence for some minutes, and then the old man rose andsaid:--

"Daughter of a brave woman, thou hast spoken long, and thou hastspoken well; the ears of the Bald Eagle have been opened. The whitesquaw shall be restored to her brother's lodge; but thou remainest. Ihave spoken. "

Catharine, in tears, cast her arms round her disinterested friend andremained weeping: how could she accept this great sacrifice? She, inher turn, pleaded for the life and liberty of the Mohawk, but thechief turned a cold ear to her passionate and incoherent pleading. Hewas weary--he was impatient of further excitement--he coldly motionedto them to withdraw; and the friends in sadness retired to talk overall that had taken place since that sad day when Catharine was takenfrom her home. While her heart was joyful at the prospect of her ownrelease, it was clouded with fears for the uncertain fate of herbeloved friend. 

"They will condemn me to a cruel death, " said Indiana; "but I cansuffer and die for my white sister. "

That night the Indian girl slept sweetly and tranquilly besideCatharine. But Catharine could not sleep; she communed with her ownheart in the still watches of the night; it seemed as if a new lifehad been infused within her. She no longer thought and felt as achild; the energies of her mind had been awakened, ripened intomaturity, as it were, and suddenly expanded. When all the inmates ofthe lodges were profoundly sleeping, Catharine arose: a sudden thoughthad entered into her mind, and she hesitated not to put her designinto execution. There was no moon, but a bright arch of light spannedthe forest to the north; it was mild and soft as moonlight, but lessbright, and cast no shadow across her path; it showed her the sacredtent of the widow of the murdered Mohawk. With noiseless step shelifted aside the curtain of skins that guarded it, and stood at theentrance. Light as was her step, it awakened the sleeper; she raisedherself on her arm, and looked up with a dreamy and abstracted air asCatharine, stretching forth her hand, in tones low and tremulous, thusaddressed her in the Ojebwa tongue:--

"The Great Spirit sends me to thee, O woman of much sorrow; he asks ofthee a great deed of mercy and goodness. Thou hast shed blood, and heis angry. He bids thee to save the life of an enemy--the blood of thymurdered husband flows in her veins. See that thou disobey not thewords that he commands. "

She dropped the curtain and retired as she had come, with noiselessstep, and lay down again in the tent beside Indiana. Her heart beat asthough it would burst its way through her bosom. What had shedone?--what dared? She had entered the presence of that terrible womanalone, at the dead hour of night! she had spoken bold and presumptuouswords to that strange being whom even her own people hardly dared toapproach uncalled for! Sick with terror at the consequences of hertemerity, Catharine cast her trembling arms about the sleeping Indiangirl, and, hiding her head in her bosom, wept and prayed till sleepcame over her wearied spirit. It was late when she awoke. She wasalone; the lodge was empty. A vague fear seized her: she hastily aroseto seek her friend. It was evident that some great event was inpreparation. The Indian men had put on the war-paint, and strange andferocious eyes were glancing from beneath their shaggy locks. A stakewas driven in the centre of the cleared space in front of the chief'slodge: there, bound, she beheld her devoted friend; pale as ashes, butwith a calm, unshaken countenance, she stood. There was no sign ofwoman's fear in her fixed dark eye, which quailed not before the sightof the death-dooming men who stood round her, armed with theirterrible weapons of destruction. Her thoughts seemed far away: perhapsthey were with her dead kindred, wandering in that happy land to whichthe Indian hopes to go after life; or, inspired with the new hopewhich had been opened to her, she was looking to Him who has promiseda crown of life to such as believe in his name. She saw not the lookof agony with which Catharine regarded her; and the poor girl, full ofgrief, sunk down at the foot of a neighbouring tree, and, burying herface between her knees, wept and prayed-oh, how fervently! A hopecrept to her heart--even while the doom of Indiana seemeddarkest--that some good might yet accrue from her visit to the wigwamof the Great Medicine squaw. She knew that the Indians have greatbelief in omens, and warnings, and spirits both good and evil; sheknew that her mysterious appearance at the tent of the Mohawk's widowwould be construed by her into spiritual agency; and her heart wasstrengthened by this hope. Yet just now there seems little reason toencourage hope: the war-whoop is given, the war-dance is begun--firstslow, and grave, and measured; now louder, and quicker, and more wildbecome both sound and movement. But why is it hushed again? See, astrange canoe appears on the river; anon an old weather-beaten man, with firm step, appears on the greensward, and approaches the area ofthe lodge. 

The Bald Eagle greets him with friendly courtesy, the dance ceases andthe death-song is hushed; a treaty is begun. It is for the deliveranceof the captives. The chief points to Catharine--she is free; his whitebrother may take her--she is his. But the Indian law of justice musttake its course: the condemned, who raised her hand against an Ojebwachief, must die. In vain are the tempting stores of scarlet cloth andbeads for the women, with powder and shot, laid before the chief: thearrows of six warriors are fitted to the string, and again the danceand song commence, as if, like the roll of the drum and, clangour ofthe trumpet, they were necessary to the excitement of strong andpowerful feelings, and the suppression of all tenderer emotions. 

And now a wild and solemn voice is heard, unearthly in its tones, rising above the yells of those savage men. At the sound every cheekbecomes pale: it strikes upon the ear as some funeral wail. Is it thedeath-song of the captive girl bound to that fearful stake? No; forshe stands unmoved, with eyes raised heavenward, and lips apart, --

 "In still but brave despair. "

Shrouded in a mantle of dark cloth, her long black hair unbound andstreaming over her shoulders, appears the Mohawk widow, the daughterof the Ojebwa chief. The gathering throng fall back as she approaches, awed by her sudden appearance among them. She stretches out a hand onwhich dark stains are visible--it is the blood of her husband, sacrificed by her on that day of fearful deeds: it has never beeneffaced. In the name of the Great Spirit she claims the captivegirl--the last of that devoted tribe--to be delivered over to herwill. Her right to this remnant of her murdered husband's family isacknowledged. A knife is placed in her hand, while a deafening yell oftriumph bursts from the excited squaws, as this their great highpriestess, as they deem her, advances to the criminal. But it is notto shed the heart's blood of the Mohawk girl, but to sever the thongthat bind her to the deadly stake, for which that glittering blade isdrawn, and to bid her depart in peace whithersoever she would go. 

Then, turning to the Bald Eagle, she thus addresses him: "At the deadof night, when the path of light spanned the sky, a vision stoodbefore mine eyes. It came from the Great and Good Spirit, and bade meto set free the last of a murdered race, whose sun had gone down inblood shed by my hand and by the hands of my people. The vision toldme that if I did this my path should henceforth be peace, and that Ishould go to the better land and be at rest if I did this good deed. "She then laid her hands on the head of the young Mohawk, blessed her, and, enveloping herself in the dark mantle, slowly retired back to hersolitary tent once more. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

 "Hame, hame, hame, Hame I soon shall be-- Hame, hame, hame, In mine own countrie"

 --_Scotch Ballad_

Old Jacob and Catharine, who had been mute spectators of the scene sofull of interest to them, now presented themselves before the Ojebwachief and besought leave to depart. The presents were again laidbefore him, and this time were graciously accepted. Catharine, indistributing the beads and cloth, took care that the best portionshould fall to the grand-daughter of the chief, the pretty, good-humoured "Snow-bird. " The old man was not insensible to the noblesacrifice which had been made by the devoted Indiana, and he signifiedhis forgiveness of her fault by graciously offering to adopt her ashis child, and to give her in marriage to one of his grandsons, anelder brother of the "Snow-bird;" but the young girl modestly butfirmly refused this mark of favour, for her heart yearned for thosewhose kindness had saved her from death, and who had taught her tolook beyond the things of this world to a brighter and a better stateof being. She said "she would go with her white sister, and pray toGod to bless her enemies, as the Great Spirit had taught her to do. "

It seems a lingering principle of good in human nature that theexercise of mercy and virtue opens the heart to the enjoyment ofsocial happiness. The Indians, no longer worked up by excitement todeeds of violence, seemed disposed to bury the hatchet of hatred, andthe lodge was now filled with mirth and the voice of gladness, feasting, and dancing. A covenant of peace and good-will was enteredupon by old Jacob and the chief, who bade Catharine tell her brothersthat from henceforth they should be free to hunt the deer, fish, orshoot the wild-fowl of the lake whenever they desired to do so, "he, the Bald Eagle, had said so. "

On the morrow, with the first dawn of day, the old trapper was astir;the canoe was ready, with fresh cedar boughs strewed at the bottom. Asupply of parched rice and dried fish had been presented by the Indianchief for the voyage, that his white brother and the young girls mightnot suffer from want. At sunrise the old man led his young charges tothe lodge of the Bald Eagle, who took a kindly farewell of them. The"Snow-bird" was sorrowful, and her bright, laughing eyes were dimmedwith tears at parting with Catharine. She was a gentle, loving thing, as soft and playful as the tame fawn that nestled its velvet headagainst her arm. She did not let Catharine depart without many tokensof her regard, the work of her own hands, --bracelets of porcupinequills cut in fine pieces, and strung in fanciful patterns, moccasinsrichly wrought, and tiny bark dishes and boxes, such as might havegraced a lady's work-table, so rare was their workmanship. 

Just as they were about to step into the canoe, the "Snow-bird"reappeared, bearing a richly worked bark box, "From the GreatMedicine, " she said in a low voice, "to the daughter of the Mohawkbrave. " The box contained a fine tunic, soft as a lady's glove, embroidered and fringed, and a fillet of scarlet and blue feathers, with the wings and breast of the war-bird as shoulder ornaments. Itwas a token of reconciliation and good-will worthy of a generousheart. 

The young girl pressed the gifts to her bosom and to her lipsreverentially, and the hand that brought them to her heart, as shesaid in her native tongue, "Tell the Great Medicine I kiss her in myheart, and pray that she may have peace and joy till she departs forthe spirit land. "

With joyful heart they bade adieu to the Indian lodges, and rejoicedin being once more afloat on the bosom of the great river. ToCatharine the events of the past hours seemed like a strangebewildering dream. She longed for the quiet repose of home; and howgladly did she listen to that kind old man's plans for restoringHector, Louis, and herself to the arms of their beloved parents. Howoften did she say to herself, "Oh that I had wings like a dove, forthen would I flee away and be at rest!"--in the shelter of that dearmother's arms whom she now pined for with a painful yearning of theheart that might well be called home-sickness. But in spite of anxiouswishes, the little party were compelled to halt for the night some fewmiles above the lake. There is on the eastern bank of the Otonabee apretty, rounded knoll, clothed with wild cherries, hawthorns, andpine-trees, just where a creek half hidden by alder and cranberrybushes works its way below the shoulder of the little eminence. Thiscreek grows broader and becomes a little stream, through which thehunters sometimes paddle their canoes, as a short cut to the lowerpart of the lake near Crook's Rapids. 

To this creek old Jacob steered his little craft, and bidding thegirls collect a few dry sticks and branches for an evening fire on thesheltered side of the little bank, he soon lighted the pile into acheerful blaze by the aid of birch bark, the hunter's tinder--a sortof fungus that is found in the rotten oak and maple trees--and a knifeand flint. He then lifted the canoe, and having raised it on its side, by means of two small stakes which he cut from a bush hard by, hespread down his buffalo robe on the dry grass. 

"There is a tent fit for a queen to sleep under, _mes cheres filles_, "he said, eying his arrangements for their night shelter with greatsatisfaction. 

He baited his line, and in a few minutes had a dish of splendid bassready for the fire. Catharine selected a large flat block of limestoneon which the fish when broiled was laid; but old Jacob opened his widemouth and laughed when she proceeded to lay her bush table with largebasswood leaves for platters. Such nicety he professed was unusual ona hunter's table. He was too old a forester to care how his food wasdished, so that he had wherewithal to satisfy his hunger. 

Many were the merry tales he told and the songs he sung, to while awaythe time, till the daylight faded from the sky, and the deep blueheavens were studded with bright stars, which were mirrored incountless hosts deep deep down in that calm waveless river, whilethousands of fire-flies lighted up the dark recesses of the forest'sgloom. High in the upper air the hollow booming of the night-hawk washeard at intervals; and the wild cry of the night-owl from a deadbranch, shouting to its fellow, woke the silence of that lonely riverscene. 

The old trapper, stretched before the crackling fire, smoked his pipeor hummed some French _voyageur's_ song. Beneath the shelter of thecanoe soundly slept the two girls; the dark cheek of the Indian girlpillowed on the arm of her fairer companion, her thick tresses ofraven hair mingling with the silken ringlets of the white maiden. Theywere a lovely pair--one fair as morning, the other dark as night. 

How gaily did they spring from their low bed, wakened by the earlysong of the forest birds! The light curling mist hung in fleecyvolumes on the river, like a flock of sheep at rest; the tinklingsound of the heavy dew-drops fell in mimic showers upon the stream. See that red squirrel, how lightly he runs along that fallen trunk!how furtively he glances with his sharp bright eye at the intruders onhis silvan haunts! Hark! there is a rustling among the leaves; whatstrange creature works its way to the shore? A mud turtle: it turns, and now is trotting along the little sandy ridge to some sunny spot, where, half buried, it may lie unseen near the edge of the river. Seethat musk-rat, how boldly he plunges into the stream, and, with hisoar-like tail, stems the current till he gains in safety the sedges onthe other side. 

What gurgling sound is that?--it attracts the practised ear of the oldhunter. What is that object which floats so steadily down the middleof the stream, and leaves so bright a line in its wake?--it is a noblestag. Look at the broad chest with which he breasts the water sogallantly; see how proudly he carries his antlered head! He has nofear in those lonely solitudes--he has never heard the crack of thehunter's rifle--he heeds not the sharp twang of that bow-string, tillthe arrow rankles in his neck, and the crimson flood dyes the wateraround him. He turns, but it is only to present a surer mark for thearrow from the old hunter's bow. And now the noble beast turns to bay, and the canoe is rapidly launched by the hand of the Indian girl. Hereye flashes with the excitement; her whole soul is in the chase; shestands up in the canoe, and steers it full upon the wounded buck, while a shower of blows is dealt upon his head and neck with thepaddle. Catharine buries her face in her hands: she cannot bear tolook upon the sufferings of the noble animal. She will never make ahuntress; her heart is cast in too soft a mould. See they have towedthe deer ashore, and Jacob is in all his glory. The little squaw is anIndian at heart--see with what expertness she helps the old man. Andnow the great business is completed, and the venison is stowed away atthe bottom of the canoe. They wash their hands in the river, and comeat Catharine's summons to their breakfast. 

The sun is now rising high above the pine-trees; the morning mist isalso rising and rolling off like a golden veil as it catches thoseglorious rays; the whole earth seems wakening into new life: the dewhas brightened every leaf and washed each tiny flower-cup: the pinesand balsams give out their resinous fragrance: the aspens flutter anddance in the morning breeze, and return a mimic shower of dew-drops tothe stream; the shores become lower and flatter; the trees less loftyand more mossy; the stream expands, and wide beds of rushes spread outon either side; what beds of snowy water-lilies: how splendid the rosetint of those perseicarias that glow so brightly in the morning sun;the rushes look like a green meadow, but the treacherous water liesdeep below their grassy leaves; the deer delights in these verdantaquatic fields: and see what flocks of redwings rise from among themas the canoe passes near--their bright shoulder-knots glance likeflashes of lightning in the sunbeams. 

This low swampy island, filled with drift-wood; these gray hoarytrees, half choked and killed with gray moss and lichens, thosestraggling alders and black ash, look melancholy; they are likepremature old age, gray-headed youths. That island divides the channelof the river: the old man takes the nearest, the left hand. And nowthey are upon the broad Rice Lake, and Catharine wearies her eye tocatch the smoke of the shanty rising among the trees: one afteranother the islands steal out into view; the capes, bays, and shoresof the northern side are growing less distinct. Yon hollow bay, wherethe beaver has hidden till now, backed by that bold sweep of hillsthat look in the distance as if only covered with green ferns, withhere and there a tall tree, stately as a pine or oak, --that is thespot where Louis saw the landing of the Indians: now a risingvillage--Gore's Landing. On yon lofty hill now stands the villagechurch, --its white tower rising amongst the trees forms a charmingobject from the lake; and there, a little higher up, not far from theplank road, now stand pretty rural cottages: one of these belongs tothe spirited proprietor of the village that bears his name. Thattasteful garden before the white cottage, to the right, is ColonelBrown's, and there are pretty farms and cultivated spots; but silenceand loneliness reigned there at the time of which I write. 

Where those few dark pines rise above the oak groves like the spiresof churches in a crowded city, is Mount Ararat. The Indian girl steersstraight between the islands for that ark of refuge, and Catharine'seyes are dimmed with grateful tears as she pictures to herself thejoyful greeting in store for her. In the overflowings of her gladnessshe seizes the old man's rugged hand and kisses it, and flings herarms about the Indian girl and presses her to her heart, when thecanoe has touched the old well-remembered landing-place, and she findsherself so near, so very near her lost home. How precious are suchmoments--how few we have in life! They are created from our verysorrows; without our cares our joys would be less lively. But we haveno time to moralize. Catharine flies with the speed of a young fawn toclimb the cliff-like shoulder of that steep bank; and now; out ofbreath, she stands at the threshold of her log-house. How neat andnice it looks compared with the Indians' tents! The little field ofcorn is green and flourishing. There is Hector's axe in a newly-cutlog: it is high noon; the boys ought to have been there taking theirmid-day meal, but the door is shut. Catharine lifts the wooden latch, and steps in. The embers are nearly burned out to a handful of grayashes. Old Wolfe is not there--all is silent; and Catharine sits downto still the beating of her heart, and await the coming of her slowercompanions, and gladdens her mind with the hope that her brother andLouis will soon be home. Her eye wanders over every old familiarobject. All things seem much as she had left them; only, the maize isin the ear, and the top feather waves gracefully in the summer breeze. It promises an abundant crop. But that harvest is not to be gatheredby the hands of the young planters: it was left to the birds of theair and the beasts of the field--to those humble reapers who sow not, neither do they gather into barns, for the heavenly Father feedeththem. While the two girls busied themselves in preparing a fine roastof venison, old Jacob stalked away over the hills to search for theboys, and it was not long before he returned with Hector and Louis. 

I must not tell tales, or I might say what tears of joy were mingledwith the rapturous greetings with which Louis embraced his belovedcousin; or I might tell that the bright flush that warmed the duskycheek of the young Indian and the light that danced in her soft blackeyes owed their origin to the kiss that was pressed on her red lips byher white brother. Nor will we say whose hand held hers so long inhis, while Catharine related the noble sacrifice made for her sake, and the perils encountered by the devoted Indiana, whose eyes weremoistened with tears as the horrors of that fearful trial weredescribed; or who stole out alone over the hills, and sat him down inthe hush and silence of the summer night to think of the acts ofheroism displayed by that untaught Indian girl, and to dream a dreamof youthful love: with these things, my young readers, we have nothingto do. 

"And now, my children, " said old Jacob, looking round the littledwelling, "have you made up your minds to live and die here on theshores of this lake, or do you desire again to behold your fathers'home? Do your young hearts yearn after the hearth of your childhood?"'

"After our fathers' home!" was Louis's emphatic reply. "After the homeof our childhood!" was Catharine's earnest answer. Hector's lipsechoed his sister's words, while a furtive troubled glance fell uponthe orphan stranger; but her timid eye was raised to his young facewith a trusting look, as if she would have said, "Thy home shall be myhome, thy God my God. "

"Well, I believe, if my old memory fails me not, I can strike theIndian trail that used to lead to the Cold Springs over the pinehills. It will not be difficult for an old trapper to find his way. "

"For my part, I shall not leave this lovely spot without regret, " saidHector. "It would be a glorious place for a settlement--all that onecould desire--hill and valley, and plain, wood, and water. I will tryand persuade my father to leave the Cold Springs, and come and settlehereabouts. It would be delightful--would it not, Catharine?--especiallynow we are friends with the Indians. "

With their heads full of pleasant schemes for the future, our youngfolks laid them down that night to rest. In the morning they rose, packed up such portable articles as they could manage to carry, andwith full hearts sat down to take their last meal in their home--inthat home which had sheltered them so long--and then, with one accord, they knelt down upon its hearth, so soon to be left in loneliness, andbreathed a prayer to Him who had preserved them thus far in theireventful lives; and then they journeyed forth once more into thewilderness. There was one, however, of their little band they leftbehind this was the faithful old dog Wolfe. He had pined during theabsence of his mistress, and only a few days before Catharine's returnhe had crept to the seat she was wont to occupy, and there died. Louisand Hector buried him, not without great regret beneath the group ofbirch-trees on the brow of the slope near the corn-field. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

"I will arise, and go to my father. "--St. Luke. 

It is the hour of sunset; the sonorous sound of the cattle-bells isheard, as they slowly emerge from the steep hill-path that leads toMaxwell and Louis Perron's little clearing; the dark shadows arelengthening that those wood-crowned hills cast over that sunny spot, anoasis in the vast forest desert that man, adventurous, courageous man, hashewed for himself in the wilderness. The little flock are feeding amongthe blackened stumps of the uncleared chopping: those timbers have lainthus untouched for two long years; the hand was wanting that should havegiven help in logging and burning them up. The wheat is ripe for thesickle, and the silken beard of the corn is waving like a fair girl'stresses in the evening breeze. The tinkling fall of the cold spring inyonder bank falls soothingly on the ear. Who comes from that low-roofedlog-cabin to bring in the pitcher of water--that pale, careworn, shadowyfigure that slowly moves along the green pasture, as one without hope orjoy; her black hair shared with silver, her cheek pale as wax, and herhand so thin it looks as though the light might be seen through if sheheld it towards the sun? It is the heart-broken mother of Catharine andHector Maxwell. Her heart has been pierced with many sorrows; she cannotyet forget the children of her love, her first-born girl and boy. Whocomes to meet her, and with cheerful voice chides her for the tear thatseems ever to be lingering on that pale cheek, --yet the premature furrowson that broad, sunburnt, manly brow speak, too, of inward care? It is thefather of Hector and Catharine. Those two fine, healthy boys, in homespunblouses, that are talking so earnestly as they lean across the rail-fenceof the little wheat field, are Kenneth and Donald; their sickles are ontheir arms--they have been reaping. They hear the sudden barking of Bruceand Wallace, the hounds, and turn to see what causes the agitation theydisplay. 

An old man draws near; he has a knapsack on his shoulders, which he castsdown on the corner of the stoup; he is singing a line of an old Frenchditty; he raps at the open door. The Highlander bids him welcome, butstarts with glad surprise as his hand is grasped by the old trapper. 

"Hah, Jacob Morelle, it is many a weary year since your step turned thisway. " The tear stood in the eye of the soldier as he spoke. 

"Can you receive me and those I have with me for the night?" asked theold man; in a husky voice--his kind heart was full. "A spare corner, ashake-down, will do; we travellers in the bush are no wise nice. "

"The best we have, and kindly welcome, Jacob. How many are ye in all?"

"There are just four, besides myself, --young people. I found them wherethey had been long living, on a lonely lake, and I persuaded them to comewith me. "

The strong features of the Highlander worked convulsively, as he drew hisfaded blue bonnet over his eyes. "Jacob, did ye ken that we lost oureldest bairns some three summers since?" he faltered in a broken voice. 

"The Lord, in his mercy, has restored them to you, Donald, by my hand, "said the trapper. 

"Let me see, let me see my children! To Him be the praise and the glory, "ejaculated the pious father, raising his bonnet reverently from his head;"and holy and blessed be His name for ever! I thought not to have seenthis day. O Catharine, my dear wife, this joy will kill you!"

In a moment his children were enfolded in his arms. It is a mistaken ideathat joy kills; it is a life restorer. Could you, my young readers, haveseen how quickly the bloom of health began to reappear on the faded cheekof that pale mother, and how soon that dim eye regained its brightsparkle, you would have said joy does not kill. 

"But where is Louis, dear Louis, our nephew, where is he?"

Louis, whose impetuosity was not to be restrained by the caution of oldJacob, had cleared the log-fence at a bound, had hastily embraced hiscousins Kenneth and Donald, and in five minutes more had rushed into hisfather's cottage, and wept his joy in the arms of father, mother, andsisters by turns, before old Jacob had introduced the impatient Hector andCatharine to their father. 

"But while joy is in our little dwelling, who is this that sits apartupon that stone by the log-fence, her face bent sadly down upon her knees, her long raven hair shading her features as with a veil?" asked theHighlander Maxwell, pointing as he spoke to the spot where, unnoticed andunsharing in the joyful recognition, sat the poor Indian girl. There wasno paternal embrace for her, no tender mother's kiss imprinted on thatdusky cheek and pensive brow; she was alone and desolate in the midst ofthat scene of gladness. 

"It is my Indian sister, " said Catharine; "she also must be your child. "

Hector hurried to Indiana, and taking her by the hand led her to hisparents, and bade them be kind to and cherish the young stranger, to whomthey all owed so much. 

Time passes on--years, long years have gone by since the return of thelost children to their homes, and many changes have those years effected. The log-houses have fallen to decay--a growth of young pines, a waste ofemerald turf with the charred logs that once formed part of the enclosure, now scarcely serve to mark out the old settlement; no trace or recordremains of the first breakers of the bush--another race occupy the ground. The traveller as he passes along on that smooth turnpike road that leadsfrom Coburg to Cold Springs, and from thence to Gore's Landing, may noticea green waste by the roadside on either hand, and fancy that thereaboutsour Canadian Crusoes' home once stood: he sees the lofty wood-crownedhill, and in spring time--for in summer it is hidden by the luxuriantfoliage--the little forest creek; and he may, if thirsty, taste of thepure, fresh, icy water, as it still wells out from a spring in thesteep bank, rippling through the little cedar-trough that Louis Perronplaced there for the better speed of his mother when filling her waterjug. All else is gone. And what wrought the change a few words willsuffice to tell. Some travelling fur merchants brought the news toDonald Maxwell that a party of Highlanders had made a settlement aboveMontreal, and among them were some of his kindred. The old soldierresolved to join them, and it was not hard to prevail upon hisbrother-in-law to accompany him, for they were all now weary of livingso far from their fellow-men; and bidding farewell to the littlelog-houses at Cold Springs, they now journeyed downwards to the newsettlement, where they were gladly received, their long experience ofthe country making their company a most valuable acquisition to thenew-come colonists. 

Not long after, the Maxwells took possession of a grant of land, andcleared and built for themselves and their family. Hector, now a fineindustrious young man, presented at the baptismal font, as a candidatefor baptism, the Indian girl, and then received at the altar hisnewly-baptized bride. Catharine and Louis were married on the same dayas Hector and Indiana. They lived happy and prosperous lives; andoften, by their firesides, would delight their children by recountingthe history of their wanderings on the Rice Lake Plains. 

THE END. 

[About this edition: _Lost in the Woods_ was originally published in1852 under the title _The Canadian Crusoes: A Tale of the Rice LakePlains_. After several editions, it was republished in 1882 under itspresent title, as _Lost in the Backwoods_. ]