unknown or obsolete in England.]_ There, too, was her mother, with her
light step and sweet cheerful voice, singing as she pursued her daily
avocations; and Donald and Kenneth driving up the cows to be milked, or
chopping firewood. And as these images, like the figures of the magic
lantern, passed in all their living colours before her mental vision,
her head drooped heavier and lower till it sunk upon her arm, and then
she started, looked round, and slept again, her face deeply buried in
her young bosom; and long and peacefully the young girl slumbered.

A sound of hurrying feet approaches, a wild cry is heard and panting
breath, and the sleeper with a startling scream sprang to her feet: she
dreamed that she was struggling in the fangs of a wolf--its grisly
paws were clasped about her throat; the feeling was agony and
suffocation--her languid eyes open. Can it be?--what is it that she
sees? Yes, it is Wolfe; not the fierce creature of her dreams by night
and her fears by day, but her father's own brave devoted dog. What joy,
what hope rushed to her heart! She threw herself upon the shaggy neck of
the faithful beast, and wept from the fulness of heart.

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

Poor, child! the echoes of thy eager voice, prolonged by every
projecting headland of the valley, replied in mocking tones, "Come
quickly!"

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

The faithful dog, who had succeeded in tracking the steps of his lost
mistress, raised his head and erected his ears, as she called on her
father's name; but he gave no joyful bark of recognition as he was wont
to do when he heard his master's step approaching. Still Catharine 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 wound up
their line, and left the fishing-ground to hurry to her assistance. They
could hardly believe their eyes when they saw Wolfe, faithful old Wolfe,
their earliest friend and playfellow, named by their father after the
gallant hero of Quebec. And they too, like Catharine, thought that their
friends were not far distant, and joyfully they climbed the hills and
shouted aloud, and Wolfe was coaxed and caressed, and besought to follow
them to point out the way they should take: but all their entreaties
were in vain; worn out with fatigue and long fasting, the poor old
dog refused to quit the embers of the fire, before which he stretched
himself, and the boys now noticed his gaunt frame and wasted flesh--he
looked almost starved. The fact now became evident that he was in a
state of great exhaustion. Catharine thought he eyed the spring with
wishful looks, and she soon supplied him with water in the bark dish, to
this 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 Wolfe
would travel in all directions till he found them, nor ceased his search
till he discovered the objects he was ordered to bring home. The last
night of the father's wanderings, when, sick and hopeless, he came back
to his melancholy home, as he sat sleeplessly rocking himself 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 master rose, lifted the latch,
and again exclaimed in passionate tones those magic words, that sent the
faithful messenger forth into the dark forest path. Once on the trail he
never left it, but with ah instinct incomprehensible as it was powerful,
he continued to track the woods, lingering long on spots where the
wanderers had left any signs of their sojourn; he had for some time
been baffled at the Beaver Meadow, and again where they had crossed Cold
Creek, but had regained the scent and traced them to the valley of
the "big stone," and then with the sagacity of the bloodhound and the
affection of the terrier he had, at last, discovered the objects of his
unwearied, though often baffled search.

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

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

There was no stir among the trees, the heavy rounded masses of foliage
remained unmoved; the very aspen, that tremulous sensitive tree,
scarcely stirred; it seemed as if the very pulses of nature were at
rest. The solemn murmur that preceded the thunder-peal might have been
likened to the moaning of the dying. The children felt the loneliness of
the spot. Seated at the entrance of their sylvan hut, in front of which
their evening fire burned brightly, they looked out upon the storm in
silence and in awe. Screened by the sheltering shrubs that grew near
them, they felt comparatively safe from the dangers of the storm, which
now burst in terrific violence above the valley. Cloud answered to
cloud, and the echoes of the hills prolonged the 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, from
their covert in some distant cedar swamp at the edge of the lake, might
be heard from time to time,--a sound that always thrilled their hearts
with fear. To the mighty thunder-peal that burst above their heads they
listened with awe and wonder. It seemed, indeed, to them as if it were
the voice of Him who "sendeth out his voice, yea, and that a mighty
voice." And they bowed and adored his majesty; but they shrank with
curdled blood from the cry of the _felon wolf._

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

The children thought not of danger for themselves, but they feared for
the safety of their fathers, whom they believed to be not far off from
them. And often 'mid the raging of the elements, they fancied they could
distinguish familiar voices calling upon their names. "If our father had
not been near, Wolfe would not have come hither."

"Ah, if our father should have perished in this fearful storm," said
Catharine, weeping, "or have been starved to death while seeking for
us!" and Catharine covered her face and wept more bitterly.

But Louis would not listen to such melancholy forebodings. Their fathers
were both brave hardy men, accustomed to every sort of danger and
privation; they were able to take care of themselves. Yes, he was sure
they were not far off; it was this unlucky storm coming on that had
prevented them from meeting.

"To-morrow, ma chère, will be a glorious day after the storm; it will
be a joyful one too, we shall go out with Wolfe, and he will find his
master, and then--oh, yes! I dare say my dear father will be with yours.
They will have taken good heed to the track, and we shall soon see our
dear mothers and chère petite Louise."

The storm lasted till past midnight, when it gradually subsided, and the
poor wanderers glad to see the murky clouds roll off, and the stars
peep forth among their broken masses; but they were reduced to a pitiful
state, the hurricane having beaten down their little hut, and their
garments were drenched with rain. However, the boys made a good fire
with some bark and boughs they had in store; there were a few sparks
in their back log unextinguished, and this they gladly fanned up into a
blaze, with which they dried their wet clothes, and warmed themselves.
The air was now cool almost to chilliness, and for some days the 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 head
of the ravine a great pine uprooted, affording them large pieces of
bark, which proved very serviceable in thatching the sides of the hut.
The boys employed themselves in this work, while Catharine cooked the
fish they had caught the night before, with a share of which old Wolfe
seemed to be mightily well pleased. After they had breakfasted, they
all went up towards the high table-land above the ravine, with Wolfe, to
look round in hope of getting sight of their friends from Cold Springs,
but though they kept an anxious look out in every direction, they
returned, towards evening, tired and hopeless. Hector had killed a red
squirrel, and a partridge which Wolfe "treed,"--that is, stood barking
at the foot of the tree in which it had perched,--and the supply of meat
was a seasonable change. They also noticed, and marked, with the axe,
several trees where there were bees, intending to come in the cold
weather, and cut them down. Louis's father was a great and successful
bee-hunter; and Louis rather prided himself on having learned something
of his father's skill in that line. Here, where flowers were so abundant
and water plentiful, the wild bees seemed to be abundant also; besides,
the open space between the trees, admitting the warm sunbeam freely,
was favourable both for the bees and the flowers on which they fed, and
Louis talked joyfully of the fine stores of honey they should collect
in the fell. He had taught little Fanchon, a small French spaniel of his
father's, to find out the trees where the bees hived, and also the
nests of the ground-bees, and she would bark at the foot of the tree,
or scratch with her feet on the ground, as the other dogs barked at the
squirrels or the woodchucks; but Fanchon was far away, and Wolfe was
old, and would learn no new tricks, so Louis knew he had nothing but his
own observation and the axe to depend upon for procuring honey.

The boys had been unsuccessful for some days past in fishing; neither
perch nor sunfish, pink roach nor mud-pouts _[FN: All these fish
are indigenous to the fresh waters of Canada.]_ were to be caught.
However, they found water-mussels by groping in the sand, and cray-fish
among the gravel at the edge of the water only; the last pinched their
fingers very spitefully. The mussels were not very palateable, for want
of salt; but hungry folks must not be dainty, and Louis declared
them very good when well roasted, covered up with hot embers. "The
fish-hawks," said he, "set us a good example, for they eat them, and so
do the eagles and herons. I watched one the other day with 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, to my great
amusement, perceived the wise fellow had just let it fall on a 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, where these birds
must have left them. There is one large thick-shelled mussel, that I
have found several times with a round hole drilled through 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 that Hec.
picked up in the little corn-field last year; it had a hole in one of
the shells too; _[FN: This ingenious mode of cracking the shells
of mussels is common to many birds. The crow (_Corvus corone_) has been
long known by American naturalists to break the thick shells of the
river mussels, by letting them fall from a height on to rocks and
stones.]_ and when my uncle saw it, he said it must have been dropped by
some large bird, a fish-hawk possibly, or a heron, and brought from the
great lake, as it had been taken out of some deep water, the mussels in
our creeks being quite thin-shelled and white."

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

"I do; those fish must have been larger than our perch and sun-fish;
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, we
might 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 to
manage her; he was an excellent sailor already in theory. Louis never
saw difficulties; he was always hopeful, and had a very good opinion
of his own cleverness; he was quicker in most things, his ideas flowed
faster than Hector's, but Hector was more prudent, and possessed one
valuable quality--steady perseverance; he was slow in adopting an
opinion, but when once convinced, he pushed on steadily till he mastered
the subject or overcame the obstacle.

"Catharine," said Louis, one day, "the huckleberries age now very
plentiful, and I think it would be a wise thing to gather a good store
of them, and dry them for the winter. See, ma chère, wherever we turn
our eyes, or place our feet, they are to be found; the hill sides are
purple with them. We may, for aught we know, be obliged to pass the rest
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; for
let me tell you, Mr. Louis, that they will be quite tasteless--mere dry
husks."

"Why so, ma belle?"

"I do not know the reason, but I only know the fact, for when our
mothers dried the currants and raspberries in the sun, such was the
case, 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 good
hearthstone, and we can get sheets of birch bark and sew into flat bags,
to keep the dried fruit in."

They now turned all their attention to drying huckleberries (or
whortleberries). _[FN: From the abundance of this fruit, the
Indians have given the name of Whortleberry Plain to the lands on the
south 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 a
delicious tart or pudding, mixed with bilberries and red-currants,
requiring little sugar.]_ Catharine and Louis (who fancied nothing could
be contrived without his help) attended to the preparing and making of
the bags of birch bark; but Hector was soon tired of girl's work, as he
termed it, and, after gathering some berries, would wander away over
the hills in search of game, and to explore the neighbouring hills and
valleys, and sometimes it was sunset before he made his appearance.
Hector had made an excellent strong-bow, like the Indian bow, out of a
tough piece of hickory wood, which he found in one of his rambles, and
he made arrows with wood that he seasoned in the smoke, sharpening the
heads with great care with his knife, and hardening them by exposure to
strong heat, at a certain distance from the fire. The entrails of the
woodchucks, stretched, and scraped and dried, and rendered pliable by
rubbing and drawing through the hands, answered for a bowstring; but
afterwards, when they got the sinews and hide of the deer, they used
them, properly dressed for the purpose.

Hector also made a cross-bow, which he used with great effect, being a
true and steady marksman. Louis and he would often amuse themselves with
shooting at a mark, which they would chip on the bark of a tree; even
Catharine was a tolerable archeress with the longbow, and the hut was
now seldom without game of one kind or other. Hector seldom returned
from his rambles without partridges, quails, or young pigeons, which
are plentiful at this season of the year; many of the old ones that pass
over in their migratory flight in the spring, stay to breed, or return
thither for the acorns and berries that are to be found in great
abundance. Squirrels, too, are very plentiful at this season. Hector and
Louis remarked that the red and black squirrels never were to be found
very near each other. It is a common belief, that the red squirrels make
common cause with the grey, and beat the larger enemy off the ground.
The black squirrel, for a succession of years, was very rarely to be met
with on the Plains, while there were plenty of the red and grey in the
"oak openings." _[FN: Within the last three years, however, the
black squirrels have been very numerous, and the red are less frequently
to be seen. The flesh of the black squirrel is tender, white, and
delicate, like that of a young rabbit.]_ Deer, at the time our young
Crusoes were living on the Rice Lake Plains, were plentiful, and, of
course, so were those beasts that prey upon them,--wolves, bears, and
wolverines, besides the Canadian lynx, or catamount, as it is here
commonly called, a species of wild-cat or panther. These wild animals
are now no longer to be seen; it is a rare thing to hear of bears or
wolves, and the wolverine and lynx are known only as matters of history
in this part of the country; these animals disappear as civilization
advances, while some others increase and follow man, especially many
species of birds, which seem to pick up the crumbs that fall from the
rich man's board, and multiply about his dwelling; some adopt new habits
and modes of building and feeding, according to the alteration and
improvement in their circumstances.

While our young people seldom wanted for meat, they felt the privation
of the tread to which they had teen 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 herself
by looking for flowers; she had filled her lap with ripe May-apples,
_[FN: _Podophyllum peltatum_-May-apple, or Mandrake. The fruit of
the May-apple, in rich moist soil, will attain to the size of the magnum
bonum, or egg-plum, which it resembles in colour and shape. It makes
a delicious preserve, if seasoned with cloves or ginger; when eaten
uncooked, the outer rind, which is thick and fleshy, and has a rank
taste, should be thrown aside; the fine acid pulp in which the seeds are
imbedded alone should be eaten. The root of the Podophyllum is used as
a cathartic by the Indians. The root of this plant is reticulated,
and when a large body of them are uncovered, they present a singular
appearance, interlacing each other in large meshes, like an extensive
net-work; these roots are white, as thick as a man's little finger, and
fragrant, and spread horizontally along the surface. The blossom is like
a small white rose.]_ but finding them cumbersome in climbing the steep
wooded hills, she deposited them at the foot of a tree near the boys,
and pursued her search; and it was not long before she perceived some
pretty grassy-looking plants, with heads of bright lilac flowers, and on
plucking some pulled up the root also. The root was about the size
and shape of a large crocus, and, on biting it, she found it far
from disagreeable, sweet, and slightly astringent; it seemed to be a
favourite root with the wood-chucks, for she noticed that it grew about
their burrows on dry gravelly soil, and many of the stems were bitten,
and the roots eaten, a warrant in full of wholesomeness. Therefore,
carrying home a parcel of the largest of the roots, she roasted them
in the embers, and they proved almost as good as chestnuts, and more
satisfying than the acorns of the white oak, which they had often
roasted in the fire, when they were out working on the fallow, at the
log heaps. Hector and Louis ate heartily of the roots, and commended
Catharine for the discovery. Not many days afterwards, Louis
accidentally found a much larger and more valuable root, near the
lake shore. He saw a fine climbing shrub, with close bunches of
dark reddish-purple pea-shaped flowers, which scented the air with a
delicious perfume. The plant climbed to a great height over the young
trees, with a profusion of dark green leaves and tendrils. Pleased with
the bowery appearance of the plant, he tried to pull one up, that he
might show it to his cousin, when the root displayed a number of large
tubers, as big as good-sized potatoes, regular oval-shaped; the inside
was quite white, tasting somewhat like a potato, only pleasanter, when
in its raw state, than an uncooked potato. Louis gathered his pockets
full, and hastened home with his prize, and, on being roasted, these
new roots were decided to be little inferior to potatoes, at all events,
they were a valuable addition to their slender stores, and they procured
as many as they could find, carefully storing them in a hole, which they
dug for that purpose in a corner of their hut. _[FN: This plant
appears to me to be a species of the _Psoralea esculenta_, or Indian
bread-root, which it resembles in description, excepting that the root
of the above is tuberous oval, and connected by long filaments.
The largest tubers are farthest from the stem of the plant.]_ Hector
suggested that these roots would be far better late in the fall, or
early in the spring, than during the time that the plant was in bloom,
for he knew from observation and experience that at the flowering
season the greater part of the nourishment derived from the soil goes to
perfect the flower and the seeds. Upon scraping the cut tuber, there was
a white floury powder produced resembling the starchy substance of the
potato.

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

"Excellent, no doubt, my wise little cook and housekeeper," said Louis,
laughing, "but ma belle cousine, where is the milk, and where is the
porridge-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 haste,
for the bows and arrows, with the interesting news that a herd of five
deer were in the water, and making for Long Island.

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

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

Catharine caught a portion of the excitement that danced in the bright
eyes of her cousin, and declaring that she too would go and witness
the hunt, ran down the ravine by his side, while Wolfe, who evidently
understood that they had some sport in view, trotted along by his
mistress, wagging his great bushy tail, and looking in high good humour.

Hector was impatiently waiting the arrival of the bows and Wolfe. The
herd of deer, consisting of a noble buck, two full-grown females, and
two young half-grown males, were quietly feeding among the beds of
rice and rushes, not more than fifteen or twenty yards from the shore,
apparently quite unconcerned at the presence of Hector, who stood on
a fallen trunk eagerly eyeing their motions; but the hurried steps of
Louis and Catharine, with the deep sonorous baying of Wolfe, soon roused
the timid creatures to a sense of danger, and the stag, raising his 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, eyeing the long bright
track 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 effort to gain the advantage by a circuitous route.
Twice the stag turned irresolute, as if to face his foe, and Wolfe,
taking the time, swam ahead, and then the race began. As soon as the
boys saw the herd had turned, and that Wolfe was between them and the
island, they separated, Louis making good his ambush to the right among
the cedars, and Hector at the spring to the west, while Catharine was
stationed at the solitary pine-tree, at the point which commanded the
entrance of the ravine.

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

Catharine proved a dutiful ally, she did as she was bid; she waited
till the deer were within a few yards of the shore, then she shouted and
clapped her hands. Frightened at the noise and clamour, the terrified
creatures coasted along for some way, till within a little distance of
the thicket where Hector lay concealed, the very spot from which they
had emerged when they first took to the water; to this place they boldly
steered. Louis, who had watched the direction the herd had taken with
breathless interest, now noiselessly hurried to Hector's assistance,
taking an advantageous post for aim, in case Hector's arrow missed, or
only slightly wounded one of the deer.

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

The herd, abandoning their dying companion, dashed frantically to the
shore, and the young hunters, elated by their success, suffered them to
make good their landing without further molestation. Wolfe, at a signal
from his master, ran in the quarry, and Louis declared exultingly, that
as his last arrow had given the _coup de grace_, he was entitled to the
honour of cutting the throat of the doe; but this, the stern Highlander
protested against, and Louis, with a careless laugh, yielded the point,
contenting himself with saying, "Ah, well, 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 to Catharine the important share he had
had in the exploit, giving her, at the same time, full credit for the
worthy service she had performed, in withstanding the landing of the
herd. Wolfe, too, came in for a large 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 many
uses were to be made of the deer, besides eating the flesh. It was a
store 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 and trappers,
and, sometimes, with friendly disposed Indians, who had called at the
lodges of their white brothers for food and tobacco.

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

The boys had learned from the Indians how precious were the tough sinews
of the deer for sewing. They knew how to prepare the skins of the deer
for mocassins, which they could cut out and make as neatly as the squaws
themselves. They could fashion arrow-heads, and knew how best to season
the wood for making both the long and cross-bow; they had seen the
fish-hooks these people manufactured from bone and hard wood; they knew
that strips of fresh-cut skins would make bow-strings, or the entrails
of animals dried and rendered pliable. They had watched the squaws
making baskets of the inner bark of the oak, elm, and basswood, and mats
of the inner bark of the cedar, with many other 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 prepare it, by cutting the thick
fleshy portions of the meat into strips, from four to six inches in
breadth, and two or more in thickness. These strips they strung upon
poles supported on forked sticks, and exposed them to the drying action
of the sun and wind. Fish they split open, and removed the back and head
bones, and smoked them slightly, or dried them in the sun.

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

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

Every part of the deer seemed valuable in the eyes of the young hunters;
the skin they carefully stretched out upon sticks to dry gradually, and
the entrails they also preserved for bow-strings. The sinews of the legs
and back, they drew out, and laid carefully aside for future use.

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

"Yes, Hec., and a good warm shanty; these huts of bark and boughs will
not do when once the cold weather sets in."

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

"That I could, indeed," replied Catherine; "for you may remember, Hec.,
that the last journey my father made to the Bay, _[FN: Bay of
Quints.]_ with the pack of furs, that you and I called a _Bee_

_[FN: A Bee is a practical instance of duty to a neighbour. We
fear it is peculiar to Canada, although deserving of imitation in all
Christian colonies. When any work which requires many hands is in
the course of performance, as the building of log-houses, barns,
or shanties, all the neighbours are summoned, and give their best
assistance in the construction. Of course the assisted party is liable
to be called upon by the community in turn, to repay in kind the help he
has received.]_

to put up a shed for the new cow that he was to drive back with him, and
I am sure Mathilde and I did as much good as you and Louis. You know you
said you could not have got on nearly so well without our help."

"Yes, and you cried because you got a fall off the shed when if was only
four logs high."

"It was not for the fall that I cried," said Catharine, resentfully,
"but because cousin Louis and you laughed at me, and said, 'Cats, you
know, have nine lives, and seldom are hurt, because they light on their
feet,' and I thought it was very cruel to laugh at me when I was in
pain. Beside, you called me 'puss,' and 'poor pussie' all the rest of
the _Bee_."

"I am sure, ma belle, I am very sorry if I was rude to you," said Louis,
trying to look penitent for the offence. "For my part, I had forgotten
all about the fall; I only know that we passed a very merry day. Dear
aunt made us a fine Johnny-cake for tea, with lots of maple molasses;
and the shed was a capital shed, and the cow must have thought us fine
builders, to have made such a comfortable shelter for her, with no
better help."

"After all," said Hector, thoughtfully; "children can do a great many
things if they only resolutely set to work, and use the wits and the
strength that God has given them to work with. A few weeks ago, and we
should have thought it utterly impossible to have supported ourselves
in a lonely wilderness like this by our own exertions in fishing and
hunting."

"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 us hither,
and gave us health and strength to help ourselves."

CHAPTER IV.

  "Aye from the sultry heat,
  We to our cave retreat,
  O'ercanopied by huge roots, intertwined,
  Of wildest texture, blacken'd o'er with age,
  Bound them their mantle green the climbers twine.
  Beneath whose mantle--pale,
  Fann'd by the breathing gale,
  We shield us from the fervid mid-day rage,
  Thither, while the murmuring throng
  Of wild bees hum their drowsy song."--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 been started.

"Hollowing out a canoe."

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

"Don't teaze, ma belle. I am only making a model. My canoe will be made
out of a big pine log, 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 of ducks popping in and
out of the little bays beneath the cedars, and there are plenty of
partridges, I am sure, and squirrels,--it is the very 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 do when
my gown is worn out? It is a good thing it is so strong; if it had been
cotton, now, it would have been torn to bits among the bushes."

"We must make clothes of skins as soon as we get enough," said Hector;
"Louis, I think you can manufacture a bone needle; we can pierce the
holes with the strong thorns, or a little round bone bodkin, that can be
easily made."

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

"Indeed, Louis, I believe you never think of anything else; but even
if we had a canoe to-morrow, I do not think that either you or I could
manage one," said cautions Hector.

"I could soon learn, as others have done before me. I wonder who first
taught the Indians to make canoes, and venture out on the lakes and
streams. Why should we be more stupid than these untaught heathens? I
have listened so often to my father's stories and adventures when he was
out lumbering on the St. John's river, that I am as familiar with the
idea of a boat, as if I had been born in one. Only think now, ma belle,"
he said, turning to Catharine; "just think of the fish--the big ones we
could get if we had but a canoe to push out from the shore beyond those
rush-beds."

"It strikes me, Louis, that those rush-beds, as you call them, must be
the 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 he
called Rice Lake, somewhere to the northward of the Cold Springs, where
he said there was plenty of game of all kinds, and a fine open place,
where people could see through the openings among the trees. He said it
was a great hunting-place for the Indians in the fall of the year, and
that they came there to gather in the harvest of wild rice."

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

"But we have never been harmed by them; they have always been civil
enough when they came to the Springs." "They came, you know, for
food, or shelter, or something that they wanted from us; but it may
be different when they find us alone and unprotected, encroaching upon
their hunting grounds."

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

"The wolf and the lamb do not lie down in the fold together," observed
Hector. "The Indian is treacherous. The wild man and the civilized man
do not live well together, their habits and dispositions are so contrary
the one to the other. We are open, and they are cunning, and they
suspect our openness to be only a greater degree of cunning than their
own--they do not understand us. They are taught to be revengeful, and we
are taught to forgive our enemies. So you see that what is a virtue with
the savage, is a crime with the Christian. If the Indian could be
taught the word of God, he might be kind and true, and gentle as well as
brave."

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

One bright September morning, our young people set off on an exploring
expedition, leaving the faithful Wolfe to watch the wigwam, for they
well knew he was too honest to touch their store of dried fish and
venison himself, and too trusty and fierce to suffer wolf or wild cat
near it.

They crossed several narrow deep ravines, and the low wooded flat
_[FN: Now the fertile firm of Joe Harris, a Yankee settler whose
pleasant meadows and fields of grain form a pretty feature from the
lake. It is one of the oldest clearings on the shore, and speaks well
for the persevering industry of the settler and his family.]_ along the
lake shore, to the eastward of Pine-tree Point. Finding it difficult
to force their way through the thick underwood that always impedes the
progress of the traveller on the low shores of the lake, they followed
the course of an ascending narrow ridge, which formed a sort of natural
causeway between two parallel hollows, the top of this ridge being in
many places, not wider than a cart or waggon could pass along. The sides
were most gracefully adorned with flowering shrubs, wild vines, creepers
of various species, wild cherries of several kinds, hawthorns, bilberry
bushes, high-bush cranberries, silver birch, poplars, oaks and pines;
while in the deep ravines on either side grew trees of the largest
growth, the heads of which lay on a level with their path. Wild cliffy
banks, beset with huge boulders of red and grey granite and water-worn
limestone, showed that it had once formed the boundary of the lake,
though now it was almost a quarter of a mile in its rear. Springs of
pure water were in abundance, trickling down the steep rugged sides of
this wooded glen. The children wandered onwards, delighted with the wild
picturesque path they had chosen, sometimes resting on a huge block of
moss-covered stone, or on the twisted roots of some ancient grey old oak
or pine, while they gazed with curiosity and interest on the lonely but
lovely landscape before them. Across the lake, the dark forest shut all
else from their view, rising in gradual far-off slopes, till it reached
the utmost boundary of sight. Much the children marvelled what country
it might be that lay in the dim, blue, hazy distance,--to them, indeed,
a _terra incognita_--a land of mystery; but neither of her companions
laughed when Catharine gravely suggested the probability of this unknown
shore to the northward being her father's beloved Highlands. Let not
youthful and more learned reader smile at the ignorance of the Canadian
girl; she knew nothing of maps, and globes, and hemispheres,--her only
book of study had been the Holy Scriptures, her only teacher a poor
Highland soldier.

Following the elevated ground above this deep valley, the travellers at
last halted on the extreme, edge of a high and precipitous mound, that
formed an abrupt termination to the deep glen. They found water not far
from this spot fit for drinking, by following a deer-path a little to
the southward. And there, on the borders of a little basin on a pleasant
brae, where the bright silver birch waved gracefully over its sides,
they decided upon building a winter house. They named the spot Mount
Ararat: "For here." said they, "we will build us an ark of refuge and
wander no more." And mount Ararat is the name which the spot still
bears. Here they sat them down on a fallen tree, and ate a meal of dried
venison, and drank of the cold spring that welled out from beneath the
edge of the bank. Hector felled a tree to mark the site of their house
near the birches, and they made a regular blaze on the trees as they
returned home towards the wigwam, that they might not miss the place.
They found less difficulty in retracing their path than they had
formerly, a there were some striking peculiarities to mark it, and
they had learned to be very minute in the remarks they made as they
travelled, so that they now seldom missed the way they came by. A few
days after this, they removed all their household stores, viz. the axe,
the tin pot, bows and arrows, baskets, and bags of dried fruit, the
dried venison and fish, and the deerskin; nor did they forget the deer
scalp, which they bore away as a trophy, to be fastened up over the door
of their new dwelling, for a memorial of their first hunt on the shores
of the Rice Lake. The skin was given to Catharine to sleep on.

The boys were now busy from morning till night chopping down trees for
house-logs. It was a work of time and labour, as the axe was blunt, and
the oaks hard to cut; but they laboured on without grumbling, and Kate
watched the fall of each tree with lively joy. They were no longer dull;
there was something to look forward to from day to day-they were going
to commence housekeeping in good earnest and they should be warm and
well lodged before the bitter frosts of winter could come to chill their
blood. It was a joyful day when the log walls of the little shanty were
put up, and the door hewed out. Windows they had none, so they did
not cut out the spaces for them; _[FN: Many a shanty is put up in
Canada without windows, and only an open space for a door, with a rude
plank set up to close it in at night.]_ they could do very well without,
as hundreds of Irish and Highland emigrants have done before and since.

A pile of stones rudely cemented together with wet clay and ashes
against the logs, and a hole cut in the roof, formed the chimney
and hearth in this primitive dwelling. The chinks were filled with
wedge-shaped pieces of wood, and plastered with clay: the trees,
being chiefly oaks and pines, afforded no moss. This deficiency rather
surprised the boys, for in the thick forest and close cedar swamps, moss
grows in abundance on the north side of the trees, especially on the
cedar, maple, beech, bass, and iron wood; but there were few of these,
excepting a chance one or two in the little basin in front of the house.
The roof was next put on, which consisted of split cedars; and when the
little dwelling was thus far habitable, they were all very happy. While
the boys had been putting on the roof, Catharine had collected the
stones for the chimney, and cleared the earthen floor of the chips and
rubbish with a broom of cedar boughs, bound together with a leathern
thong. She had swept it all clean, carefully removing all unsightly
objects, and strewing it over with fresh cedar sprigs, which gave out
a pleasant odour, and formed a smooth and not unseemly carpet for their
little dwelling. How cheerful was the first fire blazing up on their own
hearth! It was so pleasant to sit by its gladdening light, and chat away
of all they had done and all that they meant to do. Here was to be a set
of split cedar shelves, to hold their provisions and baskets; there a
set of stout pegs were to be inserted between the logs for hanging up
strings of dried meat, bags of 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 was to carve wooden platters and dishes, and
some stools were to be made with hewn blocks of wood, till something
better could be devised. Their bedsteads were rough poles of iron-wood,
supported by posts driven into the ground, and partly upheld by the
projection of the logs at the angles of the wall. Nothing could be more
simple. The framework was of split cedar; and a safe bed was made by
pine boughs being first laid upon the frame, and then thickly covered
with dried grass, moss, and withered leaves. Such were the lowly but
healthy couches on which these children of the forest slept.

A dwelling so rudely framed and scantily furnished would be regarded
with disdain by the poorest English peasant. Yet many a settler's family
have I seen as roughly lodged, while a better house was being prepared
for their reception; and many a gentleman's son has voluntarily
submitted to privations as great as these, from the love of novelty and
adventure, or to embark in the tempting expectation of realizing money
in the lumbering trade, working hard, and sharing the rude log shanty
and ruder society of those reckless and hardy men, the Canadian
lumberers. During the spring and summer months, these men spread
themselves through the trackless forests, and along the shores of
nameless lakes and unknown streams, to cut the pine or oak lumber, such
being the name they give to the felled stems of trees, which are then
hewn, and in the winter dragged out upon the ice, where they are formed
into rafts, and floated down the waters till they reach the great
St. Lawrence, and are, after innumerable difficulties and casualties,
finally shipped for England. I have likewise known European gentlemen
voluntarily leave the comforts of a civilized home, and associate
themselves with the Indian trappers and hunters, leading lives as
wandering and as wild as the uncultivated children of the forest. The
nights and early mornings were already growing sensibly more chilly. The
dews at this season fall heavily, and the mists fill the valleys, till
the sun has risen with sufficient heat to draw up the vapours. It was a
good thing that the shanty was finished so soon, or the exposure to the
damp air might have been productive of ague and fever. Every hour almost
they spent in making little additions to their household comforts, but
some time was necessarily passed in trying to obtain provisions. One
day Hector, who had been out from dawn till moonrise, returned with the
welcome news that he had shot a young deer, and required the assistance
of his cousin to bring it up the steep bank--(it was just at the
entrance of the great ravine)--below the precipitous cliff near the
lake; he had left old Wolfe to guard it in the meantime. They had now
plenty of fresh broiled meat, and this store was very acceptable, as
they were obliged to be very careful of the dried meat that they had.

This time Catharine adopted a new plan. Instead of cutting the meat in
strips, and drying it, (or jerking it, as the lumberers term it,) she
roasted it before the fire, and hung it up, wrapping it in thin sheets
of birch bark. The juices, instead of being dried up, were preserved,
and the meat was more palatable. Catharine found great store of wild
plums in a beautiful valley, not far from the shanty; these she dried
for the winter store, eating sparingly of them in their fresh state; she
also found plenty of wild black currants, and high-bush cranberries,
on the banks of a charming creek of bright water that flowed between
a range of high pine hills, and finally emptied itself into the
lake._[FN: This little stream flows through the green meadows
of "Glenlynden," watering the grounds of Mr. Alfred Hayward, whose
picturesque cottage forms a most attractive object to the eye of the
traveller.]_ There were great quantities of water-cresses in this pretty
brook; they grew in bright round cushion-like tufts at the bottom of the
water, and were tender and wholesome. These formed an agreeable addition
to their diet, which had hitherto been chiefly confined to animal food,
for they could not always meet with a supply of the bread-roots, as
they grew chiefly in damp, swampy thickets on the 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 warm
clothes and bed-covering became more sensibly felt: those they had were
beginning to wear out. Catharine had managed to wash her clothes at the
lake several times, and thus preserved them clean and wholesome; but she
was often sorely puzzled how the want of her dress was to be supplied as
time wore on, and many were the consultations she held with the boys
on the important subject. With the aid of a needle she might be able to
manufacture the skins of the small animals into some sort of jacket,
and the doe-skin and deer-skin could be made into garments for the boys.
Louis was always suppling and rubbing the skins to make them soft. They
had taken off the hair by sprinkling it with wood ashes, and rolling
it up with the hairy side inwards. Out of one of these skins he made
excellent mocassins, piercing the holes with a sharpened bone bodkin,
and passing the sinews of the deer through, as he had seen his father
do, by fixing a stout fish-bone to the deer-sinew thread; thus he had an
excellent substitute for a needle, and with the aid of the old file he
sharpened the point of the rusty nail, so that he was enabled, with
a little trouble, to drill a hole in a bone needle, for his cousin
Catharine's use. After several attempts, he succeeded in making some of
tolerable fineness, hardening them by exposure to a slow steady degree
of heat, till she was able to work with them, and even mend her clothes
with tolerable expertness. By degrees, Catharine contrived to cover
the whole outer surface of her homespun woollen frock with squirrel and
mink, musk-rat and woodchuck skins. A curious piece of fur patchwork of
many hues and textures 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 of her ingenuity and industry: every new patch that was added was
a source of fresh satisfaction, and the mocassins, that Louis fitted so
nicely to her feet, were great comforts. A fine skin that Hector brought
triumphantly in one day, the spoil from a fox that had been caught in
one of his deadfalls, was in due time converted into a dashing cap, the
brush remaining as an ornament to hang down on one shoulder. Catharine
might have passed for a small Diana, when she went out with her fur
dress and bow and arrows to hunt with Hector and Louis.

Whenever game of any kind was killed, it was carefully skinned and
stretched upon bent sticks, being first turned, so as to present the
inner part to the drying action of the air. The young hunters were most
expert in this work, having been accustomed for many years to assist
their fathers in preparing the furs which they disposed of to the fur
traders, who visited them from time to time, and gave them various
articles in exchange for their peltries; such as powder and shot, and
cutlery of different kinds, as knives, scissors, needles, and pins, with
gay calicoes, and cotton handkerchiefs for the women.

As the evenings lengthened, the boys employed themselves with carving
wooden platters: knives and forks and spoons they fashioned out of the
larger bones of the deer, which they often found bleaching in the sun
and wind, where they had been left by their enemies the wolves; baskets
too they made, and birch dishes, which they could now finish so well,
that they held water, or any liquid; but their great want was some
vessel that would bear the heat of the fire. The tin pot was so small
that it could be made little use of in the cooking way. Catharine had
made an attempt at making tea, on a small scale, of the leaves of the
sweet fern,--a graceful woody fern, with a fine aromatic scent like
nutmegs; this plant is highly esteemed among the Canadians as a
beverage, and also as a remedy against the ague; it grows in great
abundance on dry sandy lands and wastes, by waysides.

"If we could but make some sort of earthen pot that would stand the heat
of the fire," said Louis, "we could get on nicely with cooking." But
nothing like the sort of clay used by potters had been seen, and they
were obliged to give up that thought, and content themselves with
roasting or broiling their food. Louis, however, who was fond of
contrivances, made an oven, by hollowing out a place near the hearth,
and lining it with stones, filling up the intervals with wood ashes and
such clay as they could find, beaten into a smooth mortar. Such cement
answered very well, and the oven was heated by filling it with hot
embers; these were removed when it was sufficiently heated, and the meat
or roots placed within, the oven being covered over with a flat stone
previously heated before the fire, and covered with live coals. This
sort of oven had often been described by old Jacob, as one in common
use among some of the Indian tribes in the lower province, in which they
cook small animals, and make excellent meat of them; they could bake
bread also in this oven, if they had had flour to use. _[FN: This
primitive oven is much like what voyagers have described as in use among
the natives of many of the South Sea islands.]_

Since the finishing of the house and furnishing it, the young people
were more reconciled to their lonely life, and even entertained decided
home feelings for their little log cabin. They never ceased, it is true,
to talk of their parents, and brothers, and sisters, and wonder if all
were well, and whether they still hoped for their return, and to recall
all their happy days spent in the home which they now feared they
were destined never again to behold. About the same time they lost the
anxious hope of meeting some one from home in search of them at every
turn when they went out. Nevertheless they were becoming each day more
cheerful and more active. Ardently attached to each other, they seemed
bound together by a yet more sacred tie of brotherhood. They were now
all the world to one another, and no cloud of disunion came to mar
their happiness. Hector's habitual gravity and caution were tempered
by Louis's lively vivacity and ardour of temper, and they both loved
Catharine, and strove to smoothe, as much as possible, the hard life to
which she was exposed, by the most affectionate consideration for her
comfort, and she in return endeavoured to repay them by cheerfully
enduring all privations, and making light of all their trials, and
taking a lively interest in all their plans and contrivances.

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

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

"Perhaps," thought he, "Louis has gone further down to the mouth of the
little creek, in the flat east of this, where we caught our last fish:
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, he heard
steps as of some one running, and perceived his cousin hurrying through
the bushes in the direction of the shanty. It was evident by his
disordered air, and the hurried glances that he cast over his shoulder
from time to time, that something unusual had occurred to disturb him.

"Halloo! Louis, is it bear, wolf, or catamount that is on your trail?"
cried Hector, almost amused by the speed with which his cousin hurried
onward. "Why, Louis, whither away?"

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

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

"It is not wolves, or bears either," said Louis, as soon as he could get
breath to speak, "but the Indians are all on Bare-hill, holding a war
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 of going
down to my raft, as I thought at first I would do, I followed the deer
path through the little ravine, and then ascending the side of the
valley, I crossed the birch grove, and kept down the slope within sight
of the creek. While I was looking out upon the lake, and thinking how
pretty the islands were, rising so green from the blue water, 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, only they kept too
far apart, so I sat down on a log to watch, thinking if they turned out
to be deer, I would race off for you and Wolfe, and the bows and arrows,
that we might try our chance for some venison; but as the black specks
came nearer and nearer, I perceived they were canoes with Indians in
them, three in each. They made for the mouth of the creek, and ran
ashore among the thick bushes. I watched them with a beating heart, and
lay down flat, lest they should spy me out; for those fellows have eyes
like catamounts, so keen and wild--they see everything without seeming
to cast a glance on it. Well, I saw them wind up the ridge till they
reached the Bare-hill. _[FN: Supposed to be a council hill. It is
known by the name of Bare-hill, from the singular want of verdure on its
surface. It is one of the steepest on the ridge above the little creek,
being a picturesque object, with its fine pine-trees, seen from Mr.
Hayward's grounds, and forms, I believe, a part of his property.]_ You
remember that spot; we called it so from its barren appearance. In a few
minutes a column of smoke rose and curled among the pine-trees, and then
another and another, till I counted five fires burning brightly; and,
as I stood on the high ground, I could distinguish the figures of many
naked savages moving about, running to and fro like a parcel of black
ants on a cedar log; and by-and-by I heard them raise a yell like a
pack of ravenous wolves on a deer track. It made my heart leap up in my
breast. I forgot all the schemes that had just got into my wise head,
of slipping quietly down, and taking off one of the empty birch canoes,
which you must own would have been a glorious thing for us; but when I
heard the noise these wild wretches raised. I darted off, and ran as
if the whole set were at my heels. I think I just saved my scalp." And
Louis put his hand to his head, and tugged his thick black curls, as if
to ascertain that they were still safe from the scalping knives of his
Indian enemies.

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

"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 practical
wisdom in the heads, for two fools, you know, Louis, will hardly form
one rational plan."

Various were the schemes devised for their security. Hector proposed
pulling down the shanty, and dispersing the logs, so as to leave no
trace of the little dwelling; but to this neither his cousin nor his
sister would agree. To pull down the new house that had cost them so
much labour, and which had proved such a comfort to them, they could not
endure even in idea.

"Let us put out the fire, and hide ourselves in the big ravine below
Mount Ararat, dig a cave in one of the hills, and convey our house-hold
goods 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 all sorts;
they might chance to pop upon us, and catch us like woodchucks in a
burrow."

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

Catharine's counsel was deemed the most prudent, and the boys
immediately busied themselves with hiding under the broken branches of a
prostrate tree such articles as they could not conveniently carry
away, leaving the rest to chance; with the most valuable they loaded
themselves, and guided by Catharine, who, with her dear old dog, marched
forward along the narrow footpath that had been made by some wild
animals, probably deer, in their passage from the lake to their
feeding-place, or favorite covert, on the low sheltered plain; where,
being quite open, and almost, in parts, free from trees, the grass and
herbage were sweeter and more abundant, and the springs of water fresh
and cool.

Catharine cast many a fearful glance through the brushwood as they moved
onward, but saw no living thing, excepting a family of chipmunks gaily
chasing each other along a fallen branch, and a covey of quails, that
were feeding quietly on the red berries of the _Mitchella repens,_ or
twinberry, _[FN: Also partridge-berry and checker-berry, a lovely
creeping winter-green, with white fragrant flowers, and double scarlet
berry.]_ as it is commonly called, of which the partridges and quails
are extremely fond; for Nature, with liberal 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, they halted
at the foot of a majestic pine, and looked round them. It was a lovely
spot as any they had seen; from west to east, the lake, bending like
a silver crescent, lay between the boundary hills of forest trees; in
front, the long lines of undulating wood-covered heights faded away
into mist, and blended with the horizon. To the east, a deep and fertile
valley lay between the high lands, on which they rested, and the far
ridge of oak hills. From their vantage height, they could distinguish
the outline of the Bare-hill, made more distinct by its flickering fires
and the smoke wreaths that hung like a pearly-tinted robe among the
dark pines that grew upon its crest. Not long tarrying did our fugitives
make, though perfectly safe from detection by the distance and their
shaded position, for many a winding vale and wood-crowned height lay
between them and the encampment.

But fear is not subject to the control of reason, and in the present
instance it invested the dreaded Indians with superhuman powers of sight
and of motion. A few minutes' hasty flight brought our travellers to the
brow of a precipitous bank, nearly a hundred feet above the level open
plain which they sought. Here, then, they felt comparatively safe: they
were out of sight of the camp fires, the spot they had chosen was open,
and flight, in case of the approach of the Indians, not difficult, while
hiding-places were easy of access. They found a deep, sheltered hollow
in the bank, where two mighty pines had beep torn up by the roots, and
prostrated headlong down the steep, forming a regular cave, roofed by
the earth and fibres that had been uplifted in their fall. Pendent
from these roots hung a luxuriant curtain of wild grapevines and other
creepers, which formed a leafy screen, through which the most curious
eye could scarcely penetrate. This friendly vegetable veil seemed as
if provided for their concealment, and they carefully abstained from
disturbing the pendent foliage, lest they should, by so doing, betray
their hiding-place to their enemies. They found plenty of long grass,
and abundance of long soft green moss and ferns near a small grove of
poplars, which surrounded a spring of fine water. They ate some dried
fruit and smoked fish, and drank some of the clear spring; and
after they had said their evening prayers, they laid down to sleep,
Catharine's head pillowed on the neck of her faithful guardian, Wolfe.
In the middle of the night a startling sound, as of some heavy body
falling, wakened them all simultaneously. The night was so dark
they could see nothing, and terror-struck, they sat gazing into the
impenetrable darkness of their cave, not even daring to speak to each
other, hardly even to breathe. Wolfe gave a low grumbling bark, and
resumed his couchant posture as if nothing worthy of his attention was
near to cause the disturbance. Catharine trembled and wept, and prayed
for safety against the Indians and beasts of prey, and Hector and Louis
listened, till they fell asleep in spite of their fears. In the morning,
it seemed as if they had dreamed some terrible dream, so vague were
their recollections of the fright they had had, but the cause was soon
perceived. A large stone that had been heaved up with the clay that
adhered to the roots and fibres, had been loosened, and had fallen on
the ground, close to the spot where Catharine lay. So ponderous was the
mass, that had it struck her, death must have been the consequence of
the blow; and Hector and Louis beheld it with fear and amazement, while
Catharine regarded it as a proof of Divine mercy and protection from
Him in whose hand her safety lay. The boys, warned by this accident,
carefully removed several large stones from the roof, and tried the
safety of their clay walls with a stout staff, to ascertain that all was
secure, before they again ventured to sleep beneath this rugged canopy.

CHAPTER V.

"The soul of the wicked desireth evil; his neighbour findeth no favour
in his eyes."--_Proverbs_.

FOR several days, they abstained from lighting a fire, lest the smoke
should be seen; but this, the great height of the bank would have
effectually prevented. They suffered much cold at night from the copious
dews, which, even on sultry summer's evenings, is productive of much
chilling. They could not account for the fact that the air, at night,
was much warmer on the high hills than in the low valleys; they were
even sensible of a rush of heat as they ascended to the higher ground.
These simple children had not been taught that it is the nature of the
heated air to ascend, and its place to be supplied by the colder and
denser particles. They noticed the effects, but understood nothing of
the causes that ruled them.

The following days they procured several partridges, but feared to cook
them; however, they plucked them, split them open, and dried the flesh
for a future day. A fox or racoon attracted by the smell of the birds,
came one night, and carried them off, for in the morning they were gone.
They saw several herd of deer crossing the plain, and one 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; it was of white
flint, and had evidently been sent from an Indian bow. It was almost
with fear and trembling that they availed themselves of the venison thus
providentially thrown in their way, lest the Indians should track the
blood of the doe, and take vengeance on them for appropriating it for
their own use. Not having seen anything of the Indians, who seemed to
confine themselves to the neighbourhood of the lake, after many days had
passed, they began to take courage, and even lighted an evening fire, at
which they cooked as much venison as would last them for several days,
and hung the remaining portions above the smoke to preserve it from
injury.

One morning, Hector proclaimed his intention of ascending the hills, in
the direction of the Indian camp. "I am tired of remaining shut up in
this dull place, where we can see nothing but this dead flat, bounded by
those melancholy pines in the distance that seem to shut us in." Little
did Hector know that beyond that dark ridge of pine hills lay the home
of their childhood, and but a few miles of forest intervened to hide
it from their sight. Had he known it how eagerly would his feet have
pressed onward in the direction of that dark barrier of evergreens!

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

Hector became impatient of the restraint that the dread of the Indians
imposed upon his movements; he wanted to see the lake again and to roam
abroad free and uncontrolled.

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

"The thing is possible, but not very likely," replied Louis.
"Nevertheless, Hector, I would not willingly put myself in their power.
The Indian has his own notion of things, and might think himself
quite justified in killing us, if he found us on his hunting-grounds.
_[FN: George Copway, an intelligent Rice Lake Indian, says the
Indian hunting-grounds are parcelled out, and secured by right of law
and custom among themselves, no one being allowed to hunt upon another's
grounds uninvited. If any one belonging to another family or tribe is
found trespassing, all his goods are taken from him; a handful of powder
and shot, as much as he would need to shoot game for his sustenance in
returning straight home, and his gun, knife, and tomahawk only are left,
but all his game and furs are taken from him: a message is sent to
his chief, and if he transgresses a third time, he is banished and
outlawed.--_Life of G. Copway, Missionary, written by himself._]_ I
have heard my father say,--and he knows a great deal about these
people,--that their chiefs are very strict in punishing any strangers
that they find killing game on their bounds uninvited. They are both
merciless and treacherous when angered, and we could not even speak to
them in their own language, to explain by what chance we came here."

This was very prudent of Louis, uncommonly so, for one who was naturally
rash and headstrong, but unfortunately Hector was inflexible and wilful:
when once he had made up his mind upon any point, he had too good an
opinion of his own judgment to give it up. At last, he declared his
intention, rather than remain a slave to such cowardly fears as he now
deemed them, to go forth boldly, and endeavour to ascertain 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 if they
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 them, nor cared
for them."

"Hector, dear Hector, be not so rash!" cried his sister, passionately
weeping. "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 to
take care of myself. I am of opinion, that the Indian camp is broken up;
they seldom stay long in one place. I will go over the hills and examine
the camp at a distance and the lake shore. You and Louis may keep watch
for my return from the big pine that we halted under on our way 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 would boldly walk up to them, and by signs
make them understand that I am no scout, but a friend in need of nothing
but kindness and friendship. I never yet heard of the Indian that would
tomahawk the defenceless stranger that sought his camp openly in peace
and goodwill."

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

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

"Never mind that now, dearest cousin," said Catharine, tenderly laying
her hand on his arm. "It is much better that we should have been all
three together; I should never have been happy again if I had lost both
Hec and you. It is better as it is; you and Hec would not have been
so well off if I had not been with you to help you, and keep up your
spirits by my songs and stories."

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

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

The day wore away slowly, and many were the anxious glances that
Catharine cast over the crest of the high bank to watch for her
brother's return; at last, unable to endure the suspense, she with Louis
left the shelter of the valley; they ascended the high ground, and bent
their steps to the trysting tree, which commanded all the country within
a wide sweep.

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

Sadly these two poor lonely ones sat hand in hand, talking of the happy
days of childhood, or the perplexing present and the uncertain future.
At last, wearied out with watching and anxiety, Catharine leaned her
head upon the neck of old Wolfe and fell asleep, while Louis restlessly
paced to and fro in front of the sleeper; now straining his eye to
penetrate the surrounding gloom, now straining his ear to catch the
first sound that might indicate the approach of his absent cousin.

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

Petulantly Louis chid these discordant minstrels of the night, and
joyfully he hailed the first gush of moonlight that rose broad and full
and red, over the Oak-hills to the eastward.

Louis envied the condition of the unconscious sleeper, who lay in happy
forgetfulness of all her sorrows, her fair curls spread in unbound
luxuriance over the dark shaggy neck of the faithful Wolfe, who seemed
as if proud of the beloved burden that rested so trustingly upon him.
Sometimes the careful dog just unclosed his large eyes, raised his nose
from his shaggy paws, snuffed the night air, growled in a sort of under
tone, and dosed again, but watchfully.

It would be no easy task to tell the painful feelings that agitated
young 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 his
account;" and then the most painful fears for the safety of his beloved
companion took the place of less kindly thoughts, and sorrow filled
his heart. The broad moon now flooded the hills and vales with light,
casting broad checkering shadows of the old oaks' grey branches and now
reddened foliage across the ground.

Suddenly the old dog raises his head, and utters a short half angry
note: slowly and carefully he rises, disengaging himself gently from
the form of the sleeping girl, and stands forth in the full light of the
moon. It is an open cleared space, that mound beneath the pine-tree; a
few low shrubs and seedling pines, with the slender waving branches of
the late-flowering pearly tinted asters, the elegant fringed gentian,
with open bells of azure blue, the last and loveliest of the fall
flowers and winter-greens, brighten the ground with wreaths of shining
leaves and red berries.

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

Louis steps forward from the shadow of the pine branches, to the edge
of the inclined plane in the foreground. The slow tread of approaching
steps is now distinctly heard advancing--it may be a deer. Two figures
approach, and Louis moves a little, within the shadow again. 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, companion that he half leads,
half carries. The moonlight streams broad and bright upon the shrinking
figure of an Indian girl, apparently about the same age as Catharine:
her ashy face is concealed by the long masses of 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 the earth with sickness or fatigue.
Hector, too, seems weary. The first words that' Hector said were, "Help
me, Louis, to lead this poor girl to the foot of the pine; I am so tired
I can hardly walk another step."

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

"When I struck the high slope near the little birch grove we called the
_'birken shaw,'_ I paused to examine if the council-fires were 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 had described their
landing-place at the mouth of the creek. All seemed as silent and still
as if no human footstep had trodden the shore. I sat down and watched
for nearly an hour till my attention was attracted by a noble eagle,
which was sailing in wide circles over the tall pine-trees on Bare-hill.
Assured that the Indian camp was broken up, and feeling some curiosity
to examine the spot more closely, I crossed the thicket of cranberries
and cedars and small underwood that fringed the borders of the little
stream, and found myself, after a little pushing and scrambling, among
the bushes at the foot of the hill.

"I thought it not impossible I might find something to repay me for my
trouble--flint arrow-heads, a knife, or a tomahawk--but I little
thought of what these cruel savages had left there,--a miserable wounded
captive, bound by the long locks of her hair to the stem of a small
tree, her hands, tied by thongs of hide to branches which they had bent
down to fasten them to her feet, bound fast to the same tree as that
against which her head was fastened; her position was one that must
have been most painful: she had evidently been thus left to perish by
a miserable death, of hunger and thirst; for these savages, with a
fiendish cruelty, had placed within sight of their victim an earthen jar
of water, some dried deers' flesh, and a cob _[FN: A head of the
Maize, or Indian corn, is called a "cob."]_ of Indian corn. I have the
corn here," he added, putting his hand in his breast, and displaying it
to view.

"Wounded she was, for I drew this arrow from her shoulder," and he
showed the flint head as he spoke, "and fettered; with food and drink in
sight, the poor girl was to perish, perhaps to become a living prey to
the wolf, and the eagle that I saw wheeling above the hill top. The poor
thing's lips were black and parched with pain and thirst; she turned her
eyes piteously 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 cut
the thongs that bound her, I wondered that she still kept the same
immoveable attitude, and thinking she was stiff and cramped with
remaining so long bound in one position, I took her two hands and tried
to induce her to move. I then for the first time noticed that she was
tied by the hair of her head to the tree against which her back was
placed; I was obliged to cut the hair with my knife, and this I did not
do without giving her pain, as she moaned impatiently. She sunk her head
on her breast, and large tears fell over my hands, as I bathed her face
and neck with the water from the jar; she then seated herself on the
ground, and remained silent and still for the space of an hour, nor
could I prevail upon her to speak, or quit the seat she had taken.
Fearing that the Indians might return, I watched in all directions, and
at last I began to think it would be best to carry her in my arms; but
this I found no easy task, for she seemed greatly distressed at any
attempt I made to lift her, and by her gestures I fancy she thought I
was going to kill her. At last my patience began to be exhausted, but I
did not like to annoy her. I spoke to her as gently and soothingly as I
could. By degrees she seemed to listen with more composure to me, though
she evidently knew not a word of what I said to her. She rose at last,
and taking my hands, placed them above her head, stooping low as she
did so, and this seemed to mean, she was willing at last to submit to
my wishes; I lifted her from the ground, and carried her for some little
way, but she was too heavy for me,--she then suffered me to lead her
along whithersoever I would take her, but her steps were so slow and
feeble, through weakness, that many times I was compelled to rest while
she recovered herself. She seems quite subdued now, and as quiet as a
lamb."

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

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

He then set to work to light a good fire, which was a great addition
to their comfort as well as cheerfulness. They did not go back to their
cave beneath the upturned trees, to sleep, preferring lying, with their
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 employed, while
Catharine watched beside the wounded Indian girl, whom she tended with
the greatest care. She bathed the inflamed arm with water, and bound the
cool healing leaves of the _tacamahac_ _[FN: Indian balsam.]_ about
it with the last fragment of her apron, she steeped dried berries in
water, and gave the cooling drink to quench the fever-thirst that burned
in her veins, and glittered in her full soft melancholy dark eyes, which
were raised at intervals to the face of her youthful nurse, with a timid
hurried glance, as if she longed, yet feared to say, "Who are you that
thus tenderly bathe my aching head, and strive to soothe my wounded
limbs, and cool my fevered blood? Are you a creature like myself, or a
being sent by the Great Spirit, from the far-off happy land to which
my fathers have gone, to smooth my path of pain, and lead me to those
blessed fields of sunbeams and flowers where the cruelty of the enemies
of my people will 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 brought
home to their sylvan lodge, where Catharine made up a comfortable couch
for her, with boughs and grass, and spread one of the deer-skins over
it, and laid her down as tenderly and carefully as if she had been a
dear sister. This good girl was overjoyed at having found a companion
of her own age and sex. "Now," said she, "I shall no more be lonely, 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 to the
young stranger, she felt herself embarrassed in what way to make her
comprehend the words she used to express the kindness that she felt for
her, and her sorrow for her sufferings.

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

She tried to recall some Indian words of familiar import, that she had
heard from the Indians when they came to her father's house, but in
vain; not the simplest phrase occurred to her, and she almost cried
with vexation at her own stupidity; neither was Hector or Louis more
fortunate in attempts at conversing with their guest.

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

She would sit quiet and passive while Catharine bound up the long
tresses of her hair, and smoothed them with her hands and the small
wooden comb that Louis had cut for her use. Sometimes she would raise
her eyes to her new friend's face, with a quiet sad smile, and once she
took her hands within her own, and gently pressed them to her breast and
lips and forehead in token of gratitude, but she seldom gave utterance
to any words, and would remain with her eyes fixed vacantly on 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 of expression, or
rather it might with more propriety have been said, the absence of all
expression, almost as blank as that of an infant of a few weeks old.

How intently did Catharine study that face, and strive to read what was
passing within her mind! how did the lively intelligent Canadian girl,
the offspring of a more intellectual race, long to instruct her Indian
friend, to enlarge her mind by pointing out such things to her attention
as she herself took interest in! She would then repeat the name of the
object that she showed her several times over, and by degrees the young
squaw learned the names of all the familiar household articles about the
shanty, and could repeat them in her own soft plaintive tone; and when
she had learned a new word, and could pronounce it distinctly, she would
laugh, and a gleam of innocent joy and pleasure would lighten up her
fine dark eyes, generally so fixed and sad-looking.

It was Catharine's delight to teach her pupil to speak a language
familiar to her own ears; she would lead her out among the trees, and
name to her all the natural objects that presented themselves to view.
And she in her turn made "Indiana" (for so they named the young squaw,
after a negress that she had heard her father tell of, a nurse to one
of his Colonel's infant children,) tell her the Indian names for each
object they saw. Indiana soon began to enjoy in her turn the amusement
arising from instructing Catharine and the boys, and often seemed to
enjoy the blunders they made in pronouncing the words she taught them.
When really interested in anything that was going on, her eyes would
beam out, and her smile gave an inexpressible charm to her face, for her
lips were red and her teeth even and brilliantly white, so purely white
that Catharine thought she had never seen any so beautiful in her life
before; at such times her face was joyous and innocent as a little
child's, but there were also hours of gloom, that transformed it into an
expression of sullen apathy; then a dull glassy look took possession
of her eye, the full lip drooped and the form seemed rigid and stiff;
obstinate determination neither to move nor speak characterised her in
what Louis used to call the young squaw's "_dark hour._" Then it was
that the savage nature seemed predominant, and her gentle nurse almost
feared to look at her protegée or approach her.

"Hector," said Louis, "you spoke about a jar of water being left at the
camp; the jar would be a great treasure to us, let us go over for it."
Hector assented to the proposal. "And we may possibly pick up a few
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 a
small patch of ground and plant it with this corn;" and he sat down on
the end of a log and began carefully to count the rows of grain on the
cob, and then each corn grain by grain. "Three hundred and ten sound
grains. Now if every one of these produces a strong plant, we shall have
a great increase, and beside seed for another year, there will be, if it
is a good year, several bushels to eat."

"We shall have a glorious summer, mon ami, no doubt, and a fine
flourishing crop, and Kate is a good hand at making supporne."
_[FN: Supporne, probably an Indian word for a stir-about, or
porridge, made of Indian meal, a common dish in every Canadian or Yankee
farmer's house.]_

"You forget we have no porridge pot."

"I was thinking of that Indian jar all the time. You will see what fine
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, was quite
on the _qui vive_, and walked and danced along at a rate which proved
a great disturbance to his graver companion, who tried to keep down his
cousin's lively spirits, by suggesting the probability of the jar being
cracked, or that the Indians might have returned for it; but Louis was
not one of the doubting sort, and Louis was right in not damping the
ardour of his mind by causeless fears. The jar was there at the deserted
camp, and though it had been knocked over by some animal, it was sound
and strong, and excited great speculation in the two cousins, as to the
particular material of which it was made, as it was unlike any sort of
pottery they had ever before seen. It seemed to have been manufactured
from some very dark red earth, or clay mixed up with pounded granite,
as it presented the appearance of some coarse crystals; it was very hard
and ponderous, and the surface was marked over in a rude sort of pattern
as if punctured and scratched with some pointed instrument. It seemed
to have been hardened by fire, and, from the smoked hue of one side,
had evidently done good service as a cooking utensil. Subsequently they
learned the way in which it was used:_[FN: Pieces of this rude
pottery are often found along the shores of the inland lakes, but I have
never met with any of the perfect vessels in use with the Indians, who
probably find it now easier to supply themselves with iron pots and
crockery from the towns of the European settlers.]_ the jar being placed
near but not on the fire, was surrounded by hot embers, and the water
made to boil by stones being made red hot and plunged into it: in this
way soup and other food were prepared, and kept stewing, with no further
trouble after once the simmering began, than adding a few fresh embers
at the side furthest from the fir; a hot stone also placed on the top,
facilitated the cooking process.

Louis, who like all French people was addicted to cookery,--indeed it
was an accomplishment he prided himself on,--was enchanted with the
improvement made in their diet by the acquisition of the said earthen
jar, or pipkin, and gave Indiana some praise for initiating his cousin
in the use of it. Catharine and Hector declared that he went out with
his bow and arrows, and visited his dead-falls and snares, ten times
oftener than he used to do, just for the sake of proving the admirable
properties of this precious utensil, and finding out some new way of
dressing his game. At all events there was a valuable increase of furs,
for making up into clothing, caps, leggings, mitts, and other articles.

From the Indian girl Catharine learned the value of many of the herbs
and shrubs that grew in her path, the bark and leaves of various trees,
and many dyes she could extract, with which she stained the quills of
the porcupine and the strips of the wood of which she made baskets
and mats. The little creeping winter-green, _[FN: Gualtheria
procumbens,--Spice Winter-green.]_ with its scarlet berries, that grows
on the dry flats, or sandy hills, which the Canadians call spice-berry,
she showed them was good to eat, and she would crush the leaves, draw
forth their fine aromatic flavour in her hands, and then inhale their
fragrance with delight. She made an infusion of the leaves, and drank it
as a tonic. The inner bark of the wild black cherry, she said was good
to cure ague and fever. The root of the _dulçamara_, or bitter-sweet,
she scraped down and boiled in the deer-fat, or the fat of any other
animal, and made an ointment that possessed very healing qualities,
especially as an immediate application to fresh burns.

Sometimes she showed a disposition to mystery, and would conceal the
knowledge of the particular herbs she made use of; and Catharine several
times noticed that she would go out and sprinkle a portion of the food
she had assisted her in preparing, on the earth, or under some of the
trees or bushes. When she was more familiar with their language, she
told Catharine this was done in token of gratitude to the Good Spirit,
who had given them success in hunting or trapping; or else it was to
appease the malice of the Evil Spirit, who might bring mischief or loss
to them, or sickness or death, unless his forbearance was purchased by
some particular mark of attention. _[FN: By the testimony of many
of the Indians themselves, they appear to entertain a certain Polytheism
in their belief. "We believed in one great wise benevolent being,
Thesha-mon-e-doo, whose dwelling was in the sun. We believed also
in many other lesser spirits--gods of the elements, and in one bad
unappeasable spirit, Mah-je-mah-ne-doo, to whom we attributed bad
luck, evil accidents, and sickness and death. This bad spirit has to
be conciliated with meat and drink offerings."--_Life of George Copway,
Native Missionary_]_

Attention, memory, and imitation, appeared to form the three most
remarkable of the mental faculties developed by the Indian girl. She
examined (when once her attention was roused) any object with critical
minuteness. Any knowledge she had once acquired, she retained; her
memory was great, she never missed a path she had once trodden; she
seemed even to single out particular birds in a flock, to know them from
their congeners. Her powers of imitation were also great; she brought
patience and perseverance to assist her, and when once thoroughly
interested in any work she began, she would toil on untiringly till it
was completed; and then what triumph shone in her eyes! At such times
they became darkly brilliant with the joy that filled her heart. But she
possessed little talent for invention; what she had seen done, after a
few imperfect attempts, she could do again, but she rarely struck out
any new path for herself.

At times she was docile and even playful, and appeared grateful for the
kindness with which she was treated; each day seemed to increase her
fondness for Catharine, and she appeared to delight in doing any little
service to please and gratify her, but it was towards Hector that she
displayed the deepest feeling of affection and respect. It was to him
her first tribute of fruit or flowers, furs, mocassins, or ornamental
plumage of rare birds was offered. She seemed to turn to him 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 with quaint figures and
devices; his arrows were carved by her; the sheath of deer-skin was made
and ornamented by her hands, that he carried his knife in; and the case
for his arrows, of birch-bark, was wrought with especial neatness, and
suspended by thongs to his neck, when he was preparing to go out in
search of game. She gave him the name of the "Young Eagle." While she
called Louis, "Nee-chee," or friend; to Catharine she gave the poetical
name of, "Music of the Winds,"--Ma-wah-osh.

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

But of all the household, next to Hector, old Wolfe was her greatest
favourite. At first, it is true, the old dog regarded the new inmate
with a jealous eye, and seemed uneasy when he saw her approach to
caress him, but Indiana soon reconciled him to her person, and a mutual
friendly feeling became established between them, which seemed daily and
hourly to increase, greatly to the delight of the young stranger. She
would seat herself Eastern fashion, cross-legged on the floor of the
shanty, with the capacious head of the old dog in her lap, and address
herself to this mute companion, in wailing tones, as if she would
unburthen her heart by pouring into his unconscious ear her tale of
desolation and woe.

Catharine was always very particular and punctual in performing her
personal ablutions, and she intimated to Indiana that it was good for
her to do the same; but the young girl seemed reluctant to follow her
example, till daily custom had reconciled her to what she evidently at
first regarded as an unnecessary ceremony; but she soon took pleasure in
dressing her dark hair, and suffering Catharine to braid it, and polish
it till it looked glossy and soft. Indiana in her turn would adorn
Catharine with the wings of the blue-bird or red-bird, the crest of
the wood-duck, or quill feathers of the golden-winged flicker, which
is called in the Indian tongue the shot-bird, in allusion to the round
spots on its cream-coloured breast: _[FN: The Golden-winged Flicker
belongs to a sub-genus of woodpeckers; it is very handsome, and is said
to be eatable; it lives on fruits and insects.]_ but it was not in these
things alone she showed her grateful sense of the sisterly kindness that
her young hostess showed to her; she soon learned to lighten her labours
in every household work, and above all, she spent her time most usefully
in manufacturing clothing from the skins of the wild animals, and in
teaching Catharine how to fit and prepare them; but these were the
occupation of the winter months. I must not forestall my narrative.

CHAPTER VII.

"Go to the ant."--_Proverbs._

IT was now the middle of September: the weather, which had continued
serene and beautiful for some time, with dewy nights and misty mornings,
began to show symptoms of the change of season usual at the approach
of the equinox. Sudden squalls of wind, with hasty showers, would come
sweeping over the lake; the nights and mornings were damp and chilly.
Already the tints of autumn were beginning to crimson the foliage of the
oaks, and where the islands were visible, the splendid colours of
the maple shone out in gorgeous contrast with the deep verdure of the
evergreens and light golden-yellow of the poplar; but lovely as they now
looked, they had not yet reached the meridian of their beauty, which
a few frosty nights at the close of the month was destined to bring to
perfection--a glow of splendour to gladden the eye for a brief space,
before the rushing winds and rains of the following month were to sweep
them away, and scatter them abroad upon the earth.

One morning, just after a night of heavy rain and wind, the two boys
went down to see if the lake was calm enough for trying the raft, which
Louis had finished before the coming on of the bad weather. The water
was rough and crested with mimic waves, and they felt not disposed to
launch the raft on so stormy a surface, but they stood looking out over
the lake and admiring the changing foliage, when Hector pointed out to
his cousin a dark speck dancing on the waters, between the two nearest
islands. The wind, which blew very strong still from the north-east,
brought the object nearer every minute. At first they thought it might
be a pine-branch that was floating on the surface, when as it came
bounding over the waves, they perceived that it was a birch-canoe, but
impelled by no visible arm. It was a strange sight upon that lonely lake
to see a vessel of any kind afloat, and, on first deciding that it was
a canoe, the boys were inclined to hide themselves among the bushes, for
fear of the Indians, but curiosity got the better of their fears.

"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 to
guide it," said Hector, after intently watching the progress of the
tempest-driven vessel; assured as it approached nearer that such was
the case, they hurried to the beach just as a fresh gust had lodged the
canoe among the branches of a fallen cedar which projected out some way
into the water.

By creeping along the trunk of the tree, and trusting at times to the
projecting boughs, Louis, who was the most active and the lightest of
weight, succeeded in getting within reach of the canoe, and with some
trouble and the help of a stout branch that Hector handed to him, he
contrived to moor her in safety on the shore, taking the precaution of
hauling her well up on the shingle, lest the wind and water should set
her afloat again. "Hec, there is something in this canoe, the sight of
which will gladden your heart," cried Louis with a joyful look. "Come
quickly, and see my treasures."

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

The boys could hardly find words to express their joy and surprise at
the discovery of a large jar of parched rice, a tomahawk, an Indian
blanket almost as good as new, a large mat rolled up with a bass bark
rope several yards in length wound round it, and what was more precious
than all, an iron three-legged pot in which was a quantity of Indian
corn. These articles had evidently constituted the stores of some Indian
hunter or trapper; possibly the canoe had been imperfectly secured and
had drifted from its moorings during the gale of the previous night,
unless by some accident the owner had fallen into the lake and been
drowned; this was of course only a matter of conjecture on which it was
useless to speculate, and the boys joyfully took possession 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 down
last night just where it was," said Louis; "for if the canoe had not
been drawn into the eddy, and stopped by the branches, we might have
lost 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, "but
I am glad it was lodged so cleverly among the cedar boughs. I was half
afraid you would have fallen in once or twice, when you were trying to
draw it nearer to the shore." "Never fear for me, my friend; I can cling
like a wild cat when I climb. But what a grand pot! What delightful
soups, and stews, and boils, Catharine will make! Hurrah!" and Louis
tossed up his new fur cap, that he had made with great skill from an
entire fox skin, in the air, and cut sundry fantastic capers which
Hector gravely condemned as unbecoming his mature age; (Louis was turned
of fifteen;) but with the joyous spirit of a little child he sung, and
danced, and laughed, and shouted, till the lonely echoes of the islands
and far-off hills returned the unusual sound, and even his more steady
cousin caught the infection, and laughed to see Louis so elated.

Leaving Hector to guard the prize, Louis ran gaily off to fetch
Catharine to share his joy, and come and admire the canoe, and the
blanket, and the tripod, and the corn, and the tomahawk. Indiana
accompanied them to the lake shore, and long and carefully she examined
the canoe and its contents, and many were the plaintive exclamations she
uttered as she surveyed the things piece by piece, till she took notice
of the broken handle of an Indian paddle which lay at the bottom of the
vessel; this seemed to afford some solution to her of the mystery, and
by broken words and signs she intimated that the paddle had possibly
broken in the hand of the Indian, and that in endeavouring to regain the
other part, he had lost his balance and been drowned. She showed Hector
a rude figure of a bird engraved with some sharp instrument, and rubbed
in with a blue colour. This, she said, was the totem or crest of the
chief of the tribe, and was meant to 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 be carried to the shanty, Indiana, taking up
the bass-rope and the blanket, bundled up the most of the things, and
adjusting the broad thick part of the rope to the front of her head, she
bore off the burden with great apparent ease, as a London or Edinburgh
porter would his trunks and packages, turning round with a merry glance
and repeating some Indian words with a lively air as she climbed with
apparent ease the steep bank, and soon distanced her companions, to her
great enjoyment. That night, Indiana cooked some of the parched rice,
Indian fashion, with venison, and they enjoyed the novelty very much--it
made an excellent substitute for bread, of which they had been so long
deprived.

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

This little incident furnished the inhabitants of the shanty with
frequent themes for discussion. Hector declared that the Indian corn was
the most valuable of their acquisitions. "It will insure us a crop, and
bread and seed-corn for many years," he said; he also highly valued the
tomahawk, as his axe was worn and blunt.

Louis was divided between the iron pot and the canoe. Hector seemed
to think the raft, after all, might have formed a substitute for the
latter; besides, Indiana had signified her intention of helping him to
make a canoe. Catharine declared in favour of the blanket, as it would
make, after thorough ablutions, warm petticoats with tight bodices for
herself and Indiana. With deer-skin leggings, and a fur jacket, they
should be comfortably clad. Indiana thought the canoe the most precious,
and was charmed with the good jar and the store of rice: nor did she
despise the packing rope, which she soon showed was of use in carrying
burdens from place to place, Indian fashion: by placing a pad of soft
fur in front of the head, she could carry heavy loads with great ease.
The mat, she said, was useful for drying the rice she meant to store.
The very next day after this adventure, the two girls set to work, and
with the help of Louis's large knife, which was called into requisition
as a substitute for scissors, they cut out the blanket dresses, and in
a short time made two comfortable and not very unsightly garments: the
full, short, plaited skirts reached a little below the knee; light vests
bordered with fur completed the upper part, and leggings, terminated
at the ankles by knotted fringes of the doe-skin, with mocassins turned
over with a band of squirrel fur, completed the novel but not very
unbecoming costume; and many a glance of innocent satisfaction did our
young damsels cast upon each other, when they walked forth in the pride
of girlish vanity to display their dresses to Hector and Louis, who, for
their parts, regarded them as most skilful dress-makers, and were never
tired of admiring and commending their ingenuity in the cutting, making
and fitting, considering what rude implements they were obliged to use
in the cutting out and sewing of the garments.

The extensive rice beds on the lake had now begun to assume a
golden tinge which contrasted very delightfully with the deep blue
waters--looking, when lighted up by the sunbeams, like islands of
golden-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 the canoe, and,
guided in their movements by the little squaw, paddled to the extensive
aquatic fields to gather it in, leaving Catharine and Wolfe to watch
their proceedings from the raft, which Louis had fastened to a
young tree that projected out over the lake, and which made a good
landing-place, likewise a wharf where they could stand and fish very
comfortably. As the canoe could not be overloaded on account of the
rice-gathering, Catharine very readily consented to employ herself with
fishing from the raft till their return.

The manner of procuring the rice was very simple. One person steered the
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 paddle in
the other, struck the heads off as they bent them over the edge of the
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 the mower lets
the grass fall in ridges beneath his scythe.

Many bushels of wild rice were thus collected. Nothing could he more
delightful than this sort of work to our young people, and merrily they
worked, and laughed, and sung, as they came home each day with their
light bark, laden with a store of grain that they knew would preserve
them from starving through the long, dreary winter that was coming on.

The canoe was a source of great comfort and pleasure to them; they were
now able to paddle out into the deep water, and fish for masquinonjè and
black bass, which they caught in great numbers.

Indiana seemed quite another creature when, armed with a paddle of her
own carving, she knelt at the head of the canoe and sent it flying over
the water; then her dark eyes, often so vacant and glassy, sparkled with
delight, and her teeth gleamed with ivory whiteness as her face broke
into smiles and dimples.

It was delightful then to watch this child of nature, and see how
innocently happy she could be when rejoicing in the excitement of
healthy exercise, and elated by a consciousness of the power she
possessed of excelling her companions in feats of strength and skill
which they had yet to acquire by imitating her.

Even Louis was obliged to confess that the young savage knew more of
the management of a canoe, and the use of the bows and arrows, and the
fishing-line, than either himself or his cousin. Hector was lost in
admiration of her skill in all these things; and Indiana rose highly in
his estimation, the more he saw of her usefulness.

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

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

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

"I have heard my dear mother say, the Missionaries have taken great
pains to teach the Indian children down about Quebec and Montreal, and
that so far from being stupid, they learn very readily," said Catharine.

"We must try and make Indiana learn to say her prayers; she sits quite
still, and seems to take no notice of what we are doing when we kneel
down, before we go to bed," observed Hector.

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

"Well, when she knows more of our way of speaking, then we must teach
her; it is a sad thing for Christian children to live with an untaught
pagan," said Louis, who, being rather bigoted in his creed, felt a sort
of uneasiness in his own mind at the poor girl's total want of the rites
of his church; but Hector and Catharine regarded her ignorance with
feelings of compassionate interest, and lost no opportunity that
offered, of trying to enlighten her darkened mind on the subject of
belief in the God who made, and the Lord who saved them. Simply and
earnestly they entered into the task as a labour of love, and though for
a long time Indiana seemed to pay little attention to what they said, by
slow degrees the good seed took root and brought forth fruit worthy of
Him whose Spirit poured the beams of spiritual light into her heart:
but my young readers must not imagine these things were the work of a
day--the process was slow, and so were the results, but they were good
in the end.

And Catharine was glad when, after many go months of patient teaching,
the Indian girl asked permission to kneel down with her white friend,
and pray to the Great Spirit and His Son in the same words that Christ
Jesus gave to his disciples; and if the full meaning of that holy
prayer, so full of humility and love, and moral justice, was not fully
understood by her whose lips repeated it, yet even the act of worship
and the desire to do that which she had been told was right, was,
doubtless, a sacrifice better than the pagan rites which that young
girl had witnessed among her father's people, who, blindly following the
natural impulse of man in his depraved nature, regarded deeds of blood
and cruelty as among the highest of human virtues, and gloried in those
deeds of vengeance at which the Christian mind revolts with horror.

Indiana took upon herself the management of the rice, drying, husking
and storing it, the two lads working under her direction. She caused
several forked stakes to be cut and sharpened and driven into the
ground; on these were laid four poles, so as to form a frame, over which
she then stretched the bass-mat, which she secured by means of forked
pegs to the frame on the mat; she then spread out the rice thinly, and
lighted a fire beneath, taking good care not to let the flame set fire
to the mat, the object being rather to keep up a strong, slow heat, by
means of the red embers. She next directed the boys to supply her
with pine or cedar boughs, which she stuck in close together, so as
to enclose the fire within the area of the stakes. This was done to
concentrate the heat and cause it to bear upwards with more power; the
rice being frequently stirred with a sort of long-handled, flat shovel.
After the rice was sufficiently dried, the next thing to be done was
separating it from the husk, and this was effected by putting it by
small quantities into the iron pot, and with a sort of wooden pestle
or beetle, rubbing it round and round against the sides. _[FN:
The Indians often make use of a very rude, primitive sort of mortar,
by hollowing out a bass-wood stump, and rubbing the rice with a wooden
pounder.]_ If they had not had the iron pot, a wooden trough must have
been substituted in its stead.

When the rice was husked, the loose chaff was winnowed from it in a flat
basket like a sieve, and it was then put by in coarse birch baskets,
roughly sewed with leather-wood bark, or bags made of matting, woven by
the little squaw from the cedar-bark. A portion was also parched, which
was simply done by putting the rice dry into the iron pot, 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 a substitute for bread,
by the Indians. The lake was now swarming with wild fowl of various
kinds; crowds of ducks were winging their way across it from morning
till night, floating in vast flocks upon its surface, or rising in noisy
groups if an eagle or fish-hawk appeared sailing with slow, majestic
circles above them, then settling down with noisy splash upon the calm
water. The shores, too, were covered with these birds, feeding on the
fallen acorns which fell ripe and brown with every passing breeze; the
berries of the dogwood also furnished them with food; but the wild rice
seemed the great attraction, and small shell-fish and the larvæ of
many insects that had been dropped into the waters, there to come to
perfection in due season, or to form a provision for myriads of wild
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 of our modern
poetesses, "God's gift to the weak" _[FN: Mrs. Southey.]_

CHAPTER VIII.

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

THE Mohawk girl was in high spirits at the coming of the wild fowl to
the lake; she would clap her hands and laugh with almost childish glee
as she looked at them darkening the lake like clouds resting on its
surface.

"If I had but my father's gun, his good old gun, now!" would Hector say,
as he eyed the timorous flocks as they rose and fell upon the lake; "but
these foolish birds are so shy, that they are away before an arrow can
reach them."

Indiana smiled in her quiet way; she was busy filling the canoe with
green boughs, which she arranged so as completely to transform the
little vessel into the semblance of a floating island of evergreen;
within this bower she motioned Hector to crouch down, leaving a small
space for the free use of his bow, while concealed at the prow she
gently and noiselessly paddled the canoe from the shore among the
rice-beds, letting it remain stationary or merely rocking to and fro
with the undulatory motion of the waters. The unsuspecting birds,
deceived into full security, eagerly pursued their pastime or their
prey, and it was no difficult matter for the hidden archer to hit many a
black duck or teal or whistlewing, as it floated securely on the placid
water, or rose to shift its place a few yards up or down the stream.
Soon the lake around was strewed with the feathered game, which Wolfe,
cheered on by Lewis, who was stationed on the shore, brought to land.

Indiana told Hector that this was the season when the Indians made great
gatherings on the lake for duck-shooting, which they pursued much after
the same fashion as that which has been described, only instead of one,
a dozen or more canoes would be thus disguised with boughs, with others
stationed at different parts of the lake, or under the shelter of the
island, to collect the birds. This sport was generally finished by a
great feast.

The Indians offered the first of the birds as an oblation to the Great
Spirit, as a grateful acknowledgment of his bounty in having allowed
them to gather food thus plentifully for their families; sometimes
distant tribes with whom they were on terms of friendship were invited
to share the sport and partake of the spoils. Indiana could not
understand why Hector did not follow the custom of her Indian fathers,
and offer the first duck or the best fish to propitiate the Great
Spirit. Hector told her that the God he worshipped desired no sacrifice;
that his holy Son, when he came down from heaven and gave himself as a
sacrifice for the sins of the world, had satisfied his Father, the Great
Spirit, an hundred-fold.

They feasted now continually upon the waterfowl, and Catharine learned
from Indiana how to skin them, and so preserve the feathers for making
tippets, and bonnets, and ornamental trimmings, which are not only warm,
but light and very becoming. They split open any of the birds that they
did not require for present consumption, and these they dried for winter
store, smoking some after the manner that the Shetlanders and Orkney
people smoke the solan geese: their shanty displayed an abundant store
of provisions, fish, flesh, and fowl, besides baskets of wild rice, and
bags of dried fruit.

One day Indiana came in from the brow of the hill, and told the boys
that the lake eastward was covered with canoes; she showed, by holding
up her two hands and then three fingers, that she had counted thirteen.
The tribes had met for the annual duck-feast, and for the rice harvest.
She advised them to put out the fire, so that no smoke might be seen to
attract them; but said they would not leave the lake for hunting over
the plains just then, as the camp was lower down on the point _[FN:
This point, commonly known as _Anderson's Point_, now the seat of the
Indian village, used in former times to be a great place of rendezvous
for the Indians, and was the site of a murderous carnage or massacre
that took place about eighty years ago; the war-weapons and bones of the
Indians are often turned up with the plough at 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 event
of meeting with any of her own tribe. The girl cast her eyes on the
earth 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 friendly
tribe, would you go away with them?" he again repeated, to which she
solemnly replied,

"Indiana has no father, no tribe, no people; no blood of her father's
warms the heart of any man, woman or child, saving myself alone; but
Indiana is a brave, and the daughter of a brave, and will not shrink
from danger: her heart is warm; red blood flows warm here," and she laid
her hand on her heart. Then lifting up her hand, she said with slow but
impassioned tone, "They left not one drop of living blood to flow in
any veins but these," and her eyes were raised, and her arms stretched
upwards towards heaven, as though calling down vengeance on the
murderers of her father's house.

"My father was a Mohawk, the son of a great chief, who owned these