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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mAthode. y errata >d to nt ne pelure, \(fon A I] 1 2 3 3iX 1 2 3 4 5 6 CANADIAN CRUSOES. Johnson. Vi. /V ). ? S « . >i .i .' t J^ f . i'-Z 1 Senry 2:. Gr,,u, Johnson. Vx roUK ^^l-^'< ! t'S: y^)^^^. A\ y M f>,;l ^^ AU -' t- : H. A i . L I II •Ai 'tmif- .:..,), THE // CANADIAN CRUSOES: A TALE OF THE RICE LAKE PLAINS. BV CATHARINE PARR TRAILL, AUTBOR OF " STORIES OF THE CANADIAN FOREST," ITO. <^ EDITED BY HER SISTER, AGNES STRICKLAND. C V /^ 7 -1 cr^ «♦•■ / o:?/ tff/ c r ^1 BOSTON: HALL AND WHITING 188L pll tll( tai pri is ( tab gai cin ipor !tun [wit jwai Ifroi plie com llhe mffi PREFACE. It will 1)0 acknowledj^L'd llint Imm.in sym- pathy irrusistil)Iy responds ti» any narrative, luunded on truth, wliidi j;ra|tl»i('ally (h-scrihes tlie stniggles ol' isohited human i>('inj:;.s to uh- tain the aliments oi" lile. 'i'he distinctions of pride and rank sink into nought when the mind is onj^aged in the eontemplation ol' the inevi- table eonse(iuences of the assaults of the gaunt enemies, cold and hunger. Aecidental 1 circumstances have usually given sufTicient ex- perience of their pangs, even to the most for- tunate, to make them own a fellow-feeling with those whom the chances of shipwreck, War, wandering, or revolutions have cut ofT [from home and hearth, and the requisite sup- plies ; not only from the thousand artificial jcomforts which civilized society classes among Lhe uccessaries of life, but actually from a mfficioncy of " daily bread." 8 PREFACE. Where is the man, woman, or child who has not sympatliized witli tlie poor seaman belbre the mast, Alexander Selkirk, typified by the genius of Defoe as his inimitable Crusoe, whose name (although one by no means uncommon in middle life in the east of England) has become synonymous for all who build and plant in a wilderness, "cut off' I'rom humanity's reach?" Our insular situation has chiefly drawn the attention of the inhabitants of Great Britain to casualties by sea, and the deprivations of indi- viduals wrecked on some desert coast ; but it is by no means generally known that scarcely a summer passes over the colonists in Canada, without losses of children from the ftimilies of settlers occurring in the vast forests of the backwoods, similar to that on which the narra- tive of th'^ Canadian Crusoes is founded. Many persons thus lost have perished in the wilder- ness ; and it is to impress on the memory the natural resources of this country, by the aid of interesting the imagination, that the author of the well-known and popular work, " The Backwoods of Canada," has written the follow- ing pages. tl 1 PREFACE. 9 who baa m bel'ore 1 by the le, whose mnion in ,s become lant in a ; reach ?" 'awn the Britain to 3 of indi- but it is 'carcely a Canada, families s of the le narra- Many e wilder- nory the the aid e author k, " The c folluw- I She has drawn attention, in the course of this volume, to the practical solution* of that provoking enigma, which seems to perplex all anxious wanderers in an unknown land, namely, that fiiuling themselves, at the end of a day's toilsome march, close to the spot from which they set out in tlie morning, and that this cruel accident will occur for days in succession. The escape of Captain O'Brien from his French prison at Verdun, detailed with such spirit in his lively autobiography, offers remarkable in- stances of this propensity of the forlorn wanderer in a strange land. A corresponding incident is recorded in the narrative of the " Escape of a young French Officer from the d^pot near Peterborough, during the Napoleon European war." He found himself thrice at night within eight of the walls of the prison from which he had fled in the morning, after taking fruitless circular walks of twenty miles. I do not recol- lect the cause of such lost labou" being explained in either narrative ; perhaps the more frequent occurrence of the disaster in the boundless back- * See Appendix A ; likewise p. 315. 10 PRKFACE. woods of the Caiuulian colonies, forced know- ledge, dearly bought, on the perceptions of the settlers. Persons who wander without knowing the features and landmarks of a country in- stinctively turn their faces to the sun, and for that reason ahvaj-s travel in a circle, infallibly finding themselves at night in the very spot from which tliev started in the morninfjr. The resources and natural productions of the noble colony of Canada arc but superficially known. An intimate acquaintance with its rich vegetable and animal productions is most effectually made under the high pressure of difficulty and necessity. Our writer has striven to interest children, or rather young people approaching the age of adolescence, in the natural history of this country, simply by showing them how it is possible for children to make the best of it when thrown into a state of destitution as forlorn as the wanderers on the Rice Lake Plains. Perhaps those who would not care for the berry, the root, and the grain, as delineated and classified technically in books of science, might remember their uses and j)roper' ties when thus brought practically before their PREFACE. 11 ed know- >ns of the i knowing nintry in- n, and for infallibly very spot ons of the perficially with its IS is most •essure of as striven g people in the raply by children to a state ers on the 10 would grain, as books of proper- Ifore their notice as the aliments of the famishing fellow- creature, with whom their instinctive feelings must perforce sympathize. When parents who have left home comforts and all the ties of gentle kindred for the dear sakes of their rising families, in order to place them in a more independent position, it is well if those young minds are prepared with some knowledge of what they are to find in the adopted country ; the animals, the flowers, the fruits, and even the minuter blessings which a bountiful Creator has poured forth over that wide land. The previous work of my sister, Mrs. Traill, " The Backwoods of Canada, by the Wife of an Emigrant Officer," published some years since by Mr. C. Knight, in his Library of Useful Knowledge, has passed through many editions, and enjoyed (anonymous though it was) too wide a popularity as a standard work for me to need to dwell on it, further than to say that the ])resent is written in the same naive, charm- ing style, with the same modesty and uncom- pluii.iiig spirit, although much has the sweet and gentle author endured, as every English lady must expect to do who ventures to en- 12 PREFACE. counter the lot of a colonist. She has now devoted her further years of experience as a settler to the information of the younger class of colonists, to open their minds and interest them in the productions of that rising country, which will one day prove the mightiest adjunct of the island empire ; our nearest, our soundest colony, unstained with the corruption of convict popu- lation ; where families of gentle blood need fear no real disgrace in their alliance ; where no one need beg, and where any one may dig without being ashamed. A.B. jre no one TEE CANADIAN CRUSOES. CHAPTEK I. " The morning had shot her bright streamers on high, 0*>r Cajiada, opening all palo to the sky; Still dazzling and white was the robe that she wore, Except where the ocean wave lash'd on the shore." Jacobite Song, There lies between the Rice Lake and the Ontario a deep and fertile valley, surrounded by lofty wood-crowned hills, the heights of which were clothed chiefly with groves of oak and pine, though the sides of the hills and the alluvial bottoms gave a variety of noble timber trees of various kinds, as the maple, beech, hemlock, and others. This beautiful and highly picturesque valley is watered by many clear streams of pure refreshing water, from whence the spot has derived its appropriate uppellation of " Cold Springs." 2 14 THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. At tlie time my little history commences, thia now liiglily cultivated spot was an unbroken wilderness, — all but two small farms, where dwelt the only occupiers of the soil, — which owned no other possessors than the wandering hunting tribes of wild Indians, to whom the right of the hunting grounds north of Rice Lake appertained, according to their forest laws. To those who travel over beaten roads, now partially planted, among cultivated fields and jflowery orchards, and see cleared farms and herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, the change would be a striking one. I speak of the time when the neat and flourishing townof Cobourg, now an important port on the Ontario, was but a village in embryo — if it contained even a log- house or a block-house it was all that it did, and the wild and picturesque ground upon which the fast increasing village of Port Hope is situated, had not yielded one forest tree to the axe of the settler. No gallant vessel spread her sails to waft the abundant produce of grain and Canadian stores along the waters of that noble* sheet of water ; no steamer had then furrowed its bosom with her iron wheels, bear- ing the stream of emigration towards the wilds of our Northern and Western forests, there to render a lonely trackless desert a fruitful garden. What will not time and the industry of man, THE CANADIAN CliUSOES. 15 assisted by tlie blessing of a merciful God, efTect ? To him be the glory and honour ; for we are taught, that " without the Lord build the city, their labour is but lost that build it; with- out the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain." But to my tale. And first it will be necessary to introduce to the acquaintance of my young readers the founders of our little settlement at Cold Springs. Duncan Maxwell was a young Highland soldier, a youth of eighteen, at the famous battle of Quebec, where, though only a private, he received the praise of his colonel for bis brave conduct. At the close of the battle Duncan was wounded, and as the hospital was full at the time with sick and disabled men, he was lodged in the house of a poor French Canadian widow in the Quebec suburb ; here, thou^^h a foreigner and an enemy, he received much kind attention from his excellent hostess and her family, which consisted of a young man about his own age, and a pretty* black-eyed lass not more than sixteen. The widow Perron was 80 nmcli occupied with other lodgers — for she kept a sort of boarding-house — that slie had not much time to give to Duncan, so that he was left a great deal to her son Pierre, and a little to Catharine, her daughter. 16 THE CAXADIAX CRUSOES. .'I i, Duncan ^^IL\.\vell was a fine, open-tempered, frank lad, and lie soon won the regard of Pierre and Lis little sister. In spite of the prejudices of country, and the ditference of language and national customs, a steady and increasinur friend- ship grew up between the young Highlander and the children of his hostess; thei'cfore it was not without feelings of deep regret that they heard the news, that the corps to which Duncan be- longed was ordered for embarkation to England, and Duncan was so far convalescent as to be pronounced quite well enough to join them, Alas for poor Catharine ! she now found that parting with her patient was a source of the deepest sorrow to her young and guileless heart ; nor was Duncan less moved at the separation from his gentle nurse. It might be for years, and it might be for ever, he could not tell; but he could not tear himself away without telling the object of his affections how dear she was to him, and to whisper a hope that he might yet return one day to claim her as his bride; and Catharine, weeping and blushing, promised to wait for that happy day, or to remain single for his sake, while Pierre promised to watch over his friend's interests and keep alive Catharine's love; for, said he, artlessly, " la belle Catrine is pretty and lively, and may have many suitors before she sees you again, mon ami." TIIK CANADIAN L'iilSOKS. 17 -tempered, 1 of Pierre }j udices of ^uage and inL? friend- lander and it was not Lliey heard )uncan be- J England, t as to bo join them, found that irce of the sless heart ; separation for years, not tell; without dear she he might .is bride; promised lain single ratch over itharine's yatrine is \y suitors Thov sav tlu' comsr of true love never did rua sinootli ; but, wilii the exception of this great sorrow, the sorrow of separation, the love of our young Highland soldier and his betrothed knew no other interruption, for absence served oiilv to streiiLithen the ailection which was founded on gratitude and esteem. 'J\vo long years })assed, however, and the prospect of reunion was yet distant, when an aeeideut, which disabled Duncan from serving his couutiy, enabled him to retire with the usual little pension, and return to Quebec to Heek his afUanced. Some changes had taken })lace during that short period : the widow Perron was dead; Pieri'e, the gay, lively-hearted Pierre, was married to the daughter of a lum- berer ; and Catharine, who had no relatives in Quebec, had gone up the country with her brother and his wife, and was living in some little settlement above Montreal with them. Thither Duncan, with the constancy of his nature, followed, and shortly afterwards was married to his faithful Catharine. On one point tlie}^ had never differed, both being of the same religion. Pierre had seen a good deal of the fine country on the shores of the Ontario; he had been hunting with some friendly Indians be- tween tho gieat waters and the Bice Lake, and 2* 18 TIIK CANADIAN CUI S(»i;s. I'M lie *i()\v tlioiiiiiit if I)mi(*;iii ninl liimsclf could make up their mimls to a (piii't life iu the woods, there was not a better spot than the hill pass between the plains ami the bi<^ lake to ii\ theniseh^cs Uj)()n. Dunran was of the same opini(jn when lie s;iw the spot. It was imt rugged and bare like his (jwn Highlands, but softer in ehai'aeter, vet his heart veaiuied for the hill eountry. in those days there was no obstacle to taking possession of any tract of land in the unsurveyed forests, thei'el'ore Duncan agreed with his brothei'-in-law to pioneer the way with him, get a dwelling put up and some ground prepared and "seeded down," and then to return for their wives and settle themselves down at once as farmers. Others had suc- ceeded, had formed little colonies, and become the heads of villages in due time ; why should not thev? And now behold our two back- woodsmen fairly commencing their arduous life ; but it was nothing, after all, to Pierre, by previous occupation a hardy lumberer, or the Scottish soldier, accustomed to brave all sorts of hardships in a wild country, himself a moun- taineer, inured to a stormy climate and scanty fare from his earliest youth. But it is not my intention to dwell upon the trials and difficulties courageouslv met and battled with by our set tiers and their young wives. 1 ii; rilK CANADIAN ClilSOKS. 19 There \\'i\A in those days a spirit oC irsistaiico aiiioiiu' the fii"st settlers on the S(^il, a spirit to do and bear, that is less eijininoidy met with now Th"' spirit of civilization is now so widely dif- liiscd, that her eoinf'orts ai'C felt even in tho depths of the forest, so that tiie newly-eoine end- l^raiit leels eonijtai'atively few of the ])hysieal evils that wei'e endured by theolder inhabitants. Tin.' fii'st seed-wheat that was east into tho ;^r()inid by Duncan ami Pierre, was brougiit with iiilinit(.' trouble a distance of lifty miles in :i liitle skiif. navigated alomj; the shores of the Ontario by the adventurous Pierre, and from Ithe nearest lnndin;Li-[)laee transported on the shoulders of himself and Duncan to their home- istead : a day of great labour but great joy it [was when they deposited their precious freight [in safetv on the shantv floor. They were )bli,ued to make two journeys for the contents of the little craft. What toil, what privation they endured for the first two years! and now the fruits of it began slowly to appear. No :wo creatures could be more unlike than Pierre Liid Duufan. The Highlander, stern, steady, nerscvering, cautious, always giving ample rea- sons for his doing or his not doing. The Cana- liau, ho|i< I'lil, lively, fertile in expedients, and ^ay as a lark ; if one scheme failed another was lure to present itself Pierre and Duncan were 20 TIIK CANADIAN Clil'SoKS. 1' lulinmiMy suited to bo frit'iuls and nrij^libours. ^riio steady j)orsL'vorancc of the Scot helpcMl t(! t(3nij)ur the volatile tL'iii])L'raincnt of tluj French* man. They generally contrived to compass the same end by dillerent means, as two streams de- scending IVom opposite hills will meet in one broad river in tlie same valley. Years passed on ; tlu^ farm, carefully cultiva- ted, began to yield its increase, and food and v/arm clothing wen; not wanted in the home- steads. Catharine had become, in course of time, the happy mother of four healthy children ; her sister-in-law had even exceeded her in these welcome contributions to the population of a new colony. Between the children of Pierre and Catharine the most charming harmony j)revailed; they grew u}) as one family, a pattern of all'ection and early friendship. Though different in tempers and dispositions, Hector Maxwell, the eldest son of the Scottish soldier, and his cousin, young Louis Perron, were greatly attached ; they, with the young Catharine and Mathilde, formed a little coterie of inseparables; their amusi'iuents, tastes, pursuits, occupations, all blended and harmo- nized delightfully ; there were none of those little envyings and bickerings among them that pave the way to strife and disunion in after life. THi: ('A\Ai)iA\ cursoKs. 21 nci;^lil)onrs. t hclpcMl t(! llu; French* H)inpiiss the ,| streams dc- neet in one lUv cultiva- tl food and the home- urseoftime, lildrcn ; her er in tlicse dation of a (1 Catharine died; they tVeetion and in tempers e eldest son isin, young they, with rmed ahttle jients, tM8te.s, ind liarmo- lie of thost nonu; them '| ion in aftei Cr.th.'irint' M;in\v('11 and licr cousin Loins wore more likf hroili.T and sister than Ileetor and Catluui,"', hut M.ithilde was gentK; and dove- like, and foriiK'd ;i c(Mitra?^t U) the i^Tavity of llj.,'clion. " And is not this our own creek ?" he said; I " have often heard my flither say it had its rise some- where about this old clearing." Hector now thought Jjouis might be right, and they boldly followed the path among the poplars and thorns and bushes that clothed its banks, surprised to see how open the ground became, and how swift and clear the stream swept onward. "Oh, this dear creek," cried the delighted Catharine, " how pretty it is 1 I shall often follow its course after this ; no doubt it has its source from our own Cold Springs." And so they cheerfully pursued their wa}', till the sun, sinking behind the range of westerly hills, soon left them in gloom ; luit they anxiously hurried forward when the stream wound its noisy Way among steep stony banks, clothed scantily with pines and a few SL'utlere,! silver-barke^l 82 THK CANADIAN CUrSoKS. popljirs. AikI how tlioy bi-camc buwilderod by two j);iths luatliu^^ in opposite; directions ; one upwiii'tl among tlio rocky hills, tlio otlicr through the opening gorge of a deep ravine. Here, ov(3reome with fatigue, Catharine seated lierself on a hirge bhx.'k of granite, near a great bushy ].)ine that grew beside the path by the ravine, unable to proceed; and Hector, with a grave and troubled countenance, stood beside her, looking round with an air of great per- plexity. Louis, S(;ating himself at Catharine's feet, surveyed the dee{) gloomy valley before them, and sighed heavilv. The conviction had now forciblv struck him that thev had mistaken the path altogetiier. The very aspect of the country was different ; the growth of the trees, the flow of tiie stre;un, all indicated a change of soil and scene. Darkness was fast drawing its impenetrable veil around them ; a few stars were stealing out, and gleaming down as if with pitying glan(!e upon the young wanderers; but they could not light up their pathway, or point their homeward track. The only sound, save the lulling murmui" of the ri{)pling stream below, was the plaintive note of the whip-poor-will, from a gnarled (xik that grew near them, and the harsh, grating scream of the night-hawk, darting about in the higher regions of the air, pursuing its noisy companions, or swooping dowa TIIK CANADIAN CKLSOKS. ove the mill- stream is still standing, though deserted ; the garden-fence, Diuken and dilapidated, no loutfer protects the enclosure, wliero Mic wild rose mingles with that of I'rovence, — the Cauadiar »reepcr with the hop. 46 'I'lIK CANADIAN CKl'SOKS. view one bv one as the rays of the mornin" sun drew up the moving curtain of mist that en- veh)pecl them ; and soon both northern and soutliern shores became distinctly visibl(>, with all tliL'ir bays and capes and swelling oak and pine-crowned hills. And now arose the question, "Where are we? What lake is this? Can it be the Onta- rio, or is it the llice Lake? Can yonder shores be those of the Americans, or are they the hunting-grounds of the dreaded Indians?" Ilec tor remembered having often lieard his father say that the Ontario was like an inland sea, and the opposite shores not visible unless in some remarkable state of the atmosj)here, when they had been occasionally discerned by the naked eye, while here they could distinctly see objects on the other side, the peculiar growth of the trees, and even flights of wild fowl winging their way among the rice and low bushes on its margin. The breadth of the lake from shon to shore could not, they thought, exceed three or four miles; while its length, in an easterly- direction, seemed far greater beyond what the eye could take in.* * Tlie length of the Kice Lake, from its lieadwaters near Bhiok's Landing to tlie mouth of tlie Trent, is tiaiil to b« twiMity-tive miles; its breadth from north to south vuries froir three to six. TIIK CANADIAN' CIirStjKS. 47 They now (iuitUMJ iIil' loCty r"Kl<^e, luul bent their stops to winds the hike. W(3aried with their walk, they seated themselves beneath the shade of a beautiful feathery pine, on a high promontory that commanded a magnificent view down the lake. *' How pleasant it would be to have a house on this delightful bank, ovi-rlooking the lake," said Louis; "only think of the fish we could take, and the ducks and wild fowl we could shoot 1 and it would be no very hard matter to LoUow out a log canoe, such a one as I have heard my father say he has rowed in across many a lake and broad river below, when he was lumbering." " Yes, it would, indeed, be a pleasant spot to live upon,"* said Hector, "though I am not quite sure that the land is as good just here as it is at Cold Springs ; but all these flats and rich valleys would make fine pastures, and pro- duce plenty of grain, too, if cultivated." "You always look to the main chance, Ilec," said Louis, laughing; "well, it was worth a few hours' walking this morning to look upon tl * Now tho site of a i)leas!int (.'ottuiro, erected by an enter prisinoke to gather up, not the fruit, but a dozen fi-esh partridge eggs from the inner shade of a thick tuft of grass and herbs that grew beside a fallen tree. Catharine's voice and sudden movements had stai'lled the partridge* from her nest, and the eggs were soon trans- ferred to Louis's straw hat, while a stone flung by the steady hand of liector stunned the pa- rent bird. The boys laughed exultingly as they displayed their prizes to the astonished Catha- rine, who, in spite of hungei', could not help re- gretting the death of the mother bird. Girls and women rarely sympathize with men and boys in their field sports, and Hector laughed at his * The CanadiHu partridge is a specio? of grouse, larger thau the English or Frefisjh partridge. 5 s I' f i i 60 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. :^!i!!iiii \ inll ■■!l^ sister's doleful looks as he handed over the bird to her. ** It was a lucky chance," said b^ , " and tho stone was well aimed, but it is not the first partridge that 1 have kiHed in this way. They are so stupid you may even run them down at times ; I hope to get another before the day ia over. Well, there is no fear of starving to-day, at all events," he added, as he inspected the con- tents of his cousin's hat ; " twelve nice fresh eggs, a bird, and plenty of fruit." " But how shall we cook the bird and the eggs? We have no means of getting a fire made," said Catharine. " As to the eggs," said Louis, " we can eat them raw"; it is not for hungry wanderers like us to be over nice about our food." "They would satisfy us much better were they boiled, or roasted in the ashes," observed Hector. " True. Well, a fire, I think, can be got with a little trouble." " But how ?" asked Hector. "Oh, there are many ways, but the readiest would be a flint with the help of my knife." "A flint?" " Yes, if we could get one — but I see nothing but granite, which crumbles and shivers when struck — we could not get a spark. However, THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 51 I think it's very likely that one of the round pebbles I see on the beach yonder may be found hard enough for the purpose." To the shore they bent their steps as soon as the little basket had been well filled with straw- berries, and descending the precipitous bank, fringed with young saplings, birch, ash, and poplars, they quickly found themselves beside the bright waters of the lake. A flint was soon found among the water-worn stones that lay thickly strewn upon the shore, and a handful of dry sedge, almost as inflammable as tinder, was collected without trouble ; though Louis, with the recklessness of his nature, had coolly proposed to tear a strip from his cousin's apron as a substitute for tinder, — a proposal that somewhat raised the indignation of the tidy Catharine, whose ideas of economy and neatness were greatly outraged, especially as she had no sewing implements to assist in mending the rent. Louis thought nothing of that; it was a part of his character to think only of the present, little of the past, and to let the future provide for itself. Such was Louis's great failing, which had proved a fruitful source of trouble both to himself and others. In this respect he bore a striking contrast to his more cautious companion, who possessed much of the gravity of his father. Hector was as heedful !1 ^ • ^ ^ k 52 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ■i'l! [lili and steady in his decisions as Louis was rash and impetuous. After many futile attempts, and some skin knocked off their knuckles through awkward handling of the knife and flint, a good fire was at last kindled, as there was no lack of dry wood on the shore ; Catharine then triumph- antly produced her tin pot, and the eggs were boiled, greatly to the satisfaction of all parties, who were by this time sufficiently hungry, having eaten nothing since the previous even- ing more substantial than the strawberries they had taken during the time they were gathering them in the morning. Catharine had selected a pretty, cool, shady recess, a natural bower, under the overhanging growth of cedars, poplars, and birch, which were wreathed together by the flexile branches of the vine and bitter-sweet, which climbed to a heio;ht of fifteen feet* amonoj the branches of the trees, which it covered as with a mantle. A pure spring of cold, delicious water welled out from beneath the twisted roots of an old hoary-barked cedar, and found its way among the shingles on the beach to the lake, a humble * Solannrn dulcamara, — Bitter-sweet or Woody nicrl..,9liiide. Tills phuit is liiLrlily oriuiincntal. It possesses powerful prop- erties us >i tuediciue, aud is iu high reputatiou lusong tho Iiidiauh. THE CAXADIAX CRUSOES. 63 but constant tributary to its waters. Some large blocks of water- worn stone formed conve- nient seats and a natural table, on which the little maiden arrang^ed the forest fare ; and never was a meal made with greater appetite or taken with more thankftdness than that which our wanderers ate that morning. The eggs (part of which tliey reserved for another time) were declared to be better than those that were daily produced from the little hen-house at Cold Springs. The strawberries set out in little pot- tles made with the shinind which, by good luck, Louis had in his pocket, — a capacious pouch, in wdiich were stored many precious things, such as coils of twine and string, strips of leatlier, with odds and ends of various kinds; nails, bits of iron, leather, and such .miscellaneous articles as find their wav most mysteriously into boys' pockets in general, and Louis Perron's in particular, who was a wonderful collector of such small matters. The children were not easily daunted by the prospect of passing a few days abroad on so charming a spot, and at such a lovely season, where fruits were so abundant ; and when they had finished their morning meal, so providen- tially placed within their reach, they gratefully acknowledged the mercy of God in this thing. Having refreshed themselves by bathing their bands and faces in the lake they cheerfully ro- ^ i ; I * Huntinff-ki.ife. 56 THE CANADTAX CRUSOES. iiiiiiii p i.'i m Hi I': 1,1. newed their wanderings, though something loth to leave the cool shade and the spring for an untrodden path among the hills and deep ravines that furrow the shores of the Eice Lake in so remarkable a manner ; and often did our weary wanderers pause to look upon the wild glens and precipitous hills, where the fawn and the shy deer found safe retreats, unharmed by the rifle of the hunter, — where the osprey and white- headed eagle built their nests, unheeding and unharmed. Twice that day, misled by follovving the track of the deer, had they returned to the same spot, — a deep and lovely glen, which had once been a water-course, but now a green and shady valley. Thi^ they named the Valley of the Kock, from a remarkable block of red granite that occupied a central position in the narrow defile ; and here they prepared to pass the second night on the Plains. A few boughs cut down and interlaced with the shrubs round a small space cleared with Hector's axe, formed shelter, and leaves and grass, strewed on the ground, formed a bed, though not so smooth, perhaps, as the bark and cedar-boughs that the Indians spread within their summer wigwams for car- pets and couches, or the fresh heather that the Highlanders gather on the wild Scottish hills. While Hector and L(juis were preparing the sleeping-chamber, Catharine busied herself in THE CANADIAN CRLSOES. 67 - preparing the partridge for their supper. Hav- ing collected some thin peelings from the rugged bark of a V)ircli-tree, that grew on the side of the steep bank to which she gave the appro- priate name of the " Birken shaw," she dried it in her bosom, and then beat it line on a big stone, till it resembled the linest white paper. This m'oved excellent tinder, the aromatic oil contained in the bark of the birch being highly inflammnV)le. Hector had prudently retained the flint that they had used in the morning, and a fire was now lighted in front of the rocky stone, and a forked stick, stuck in the ground, and bent over the coals, served as a spit, on which, gipsy -fash ion, the partridge was sus- pended, — a scanty meal, but thankfully par- taken of, though they knew not how they should breakfast next morning. The children felt they were pensioners on God's providence not less than the wild denizens of the wilderness around them. When Hector — who by nature was less san- guine than his sister or cousin — expressed some anxiety for their provisions for the morrow, Catharine, who had early listened with trusting piety of heart to the teaching of her father, when he read portions from the holy word of Ciod, gently laid her hand upon her brother's ^ead, which rested on her knees, as he sat upon 'f i 58 THE CAXADIAX CKTSOES. m: I til ill I ''It' lll,l tbe grass beside lier, and said, in a low and earnest tone, '''Consider the fowls of the air; they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not mueh better than they ?' Surely, my brother, God careth for us as much as for the wild creatures, that have no sense to praise and glorify His holy name. God cares for the creatures lie has made, and supplies them with knowledge where they shall find food when they hunger and thirst. So I have heard my father say ; and surely our father knows, for is he not a wise man. Hector?" " I remember," said Louis, thoughtfully, " hearing my mother repeat the words of a good old man she knew when she lived in Quebec; — 'When you are in trouble, Mathilde,' he used to say to her, 'kneel down, and ask God's help, nothing doubting but that He has the power as well as the will to serve you, if it be for your good ; for He is able to bring all things to pass. It is our want of faith that pre- vents our prayers from being heard.' And, truly, I think the wise old man was right," he added. It was strange to hear gnive words like these from the lips of the giddy Louis. Possibly thej had the greater weight on tiiat account. And He3tor, looking u}) with a serious air, replied, THE CANADIAN CRU80ES. 59 - low and f the air ; I or gather jr feedeth in they ?' 3 as much sense to jrod cares 1 supplies shall find 3o I have ur father or?" Jghtfullj, rds of a lived in lathilde,' and ask He has >^oa, if it 3ring all hat pre- And, ffht," he ve these dly the J And replied, * ^''our mother's friend was a goud man, Louis. Our want of trust in God's power must displease llim. And when we think of all the great and glorious things He has made, — that blue sky, those sparkling stars, the beautiful moon that is now shinmg down upon us, and the hills and waters, the mighty i'orest, and little creeping plants and flowers that grow at our feet, — it must, indeed, seem fuolisli in His eyes that we sliould doubt llis power to help us, who not only made all these thinf][s, but ourselves also." "True," said Catharine; "but then, Hector, we are not as God made us ; for the wicked one cast bad seed in the field where God had sown the good." " Let us, however, consider what we shall do for food : for, you know, God helps those that help thems^elves," said Louis. " Let us consider a little. There must be plenty of fish in the lake, both small and great." "But how are we to get them out of it?" rejoined Catharine. "I doubt the fish will swim ut tlieir ease there, while we go hungry." " ])o not interrupt me, ma ch^re. Then, we see the traek of deer, and the holes of the wood- chuck ; we hear the cry of squirrels and chit- munks, and tnere are plenty of partridges, and ducks, and quails, and snipes; of course, we liave to contrive some way to kill them. Fruits I ;. .10 THE CAXADTAX CRUSOES. my there are iii abundance, and plenty of nnts of different kinds. At present we have plenty ot fine strawberries, and huckleberries will be ripe soon in profusion, and bilberries too, and you know how plojisant they are ; as for raspberries, 1 see none; but by and by there will be May- ap})les — I see great quantities of them in the low grounds ; grapes, high-bush cranberries, haws as lai'ge as cherries, and sweet too; squaw- berries, wild plums, choke-cherries, and bird- cherries. As for sweet acorUvS, there will be bushels and bushels of them for the roasting, as good as chestnuts, to my taste; and butter-nuts, and hickory-nuts, — with many other good things." And here Louis stopped for want of breath to continue his catalogue of forest dain- ties. "Yes; and there are bears, and wolves, and racoons, too, that will eat us for want of better food," interrupted Hector, slyly. *' Nay, Katty, do not shudder, as if you were already in the clutches of a big bear. Neither bear nor wolf shall make mincei .eat of thee, my girl, while Louis and thy brother are near, to wield an axe or a knife in thy defence." *' Nor catamount spring upon thee, ma belle cousine," added Louis, gallantly, " while thy bold cousin Louis can scare him away." " Well, now that we know our resources, the •lllJi CANADIAN CULSOES. 61 itter-nuts. next thing is to consider how we are to obtiiin them, my dears,'' said Catharine. " For fishing, you know, we must have a hook and line, a rod, or a n^t. Now, where are these to be met with ?" Louis nodded his liead sagaciously. " The line I tliink I can provide ; tlie hook is more difficult, but I do not despair even of that. As to the rod, it can be cut from any slender sap- ling near the shore. A net, ma chore, I could make with very little trouble, if I had but a piece of cloth to sew over a hoop." Catharine laughed. "You are very inge- nious, no doubt, Monsieur Louis, but where are you to get the cloth and the hoop, and the means of sewing it on ?" Louis took up the corner of his cousin's apron with a provoking look. " My apron, sir, is not to be appropriated for any such purpose. You seem to covet it for every thing." " Indeed, ma petite, I think it very unbecom- ing and very ugly, and never could see any good reason why you and mamma and Mathilde should wear such frightful things." *' It is to keep our gowns clean, Louis, when we are milking and scrubbing, and doing all ijorts of household duties," said Catharine. " Well, ma belle, you have neither cows to 1 ■ 62 TlIK CANADIAN CliL'SOES. ill!- ilh.. illii: 1 'iiii I'l: milk, nor hourio to clean, ' r('[)lied the annoying ooy ; "so there can be little want of the apron, 1 could tuiii it to lift} userul i)iirpose.s." *' Pooh, nonsense," said Hector, impatiently, " let the child alone, and do not tease her about her apron." " Well, then, there is another good thing 1 did not think of before, water mussels. I havo heard my father and old Jacob the lumberer Bay, that, roasted in their shells in the ashes, with a seasoning of salt and pepper, they are good eating when nothing better is to be got." " No doubt, if the seasoning can be procured,'^ said Hector, " but, alas for the salt and the pep- per I" " Well, we can cat them with the best of all sauces — hunger ; and then, no doubt, there are crayfish in the gravel under the stones, but we must not mind a pinch to our fingers in taking them." " To-morrow, then, let us breakfast on fish," said Hector. " You and I will try our luck, while Kate gathers strawberries; and if our line should break, we can easily cut those long locks from Catharine's head, and twist them into lines," — and Hector laid his hands upon the long fair hair that hung in shining curls about his sister's neck. " Cut my curls I This is even worse than TIIK CAXADIAX C11L'S0E3. 63 iiiiiioyLiig ho apron, jatitMitly, ler about I thing 1 I havo lumberer lie ashes, they are je got." rocured,'^ the pep- ist of all here are , but we U taking m fish," ir luck, I our line ig locks jm into the long out his cousin Tiouis's proposal of niakini^ tinder ami fishing-nets of iny apron," said Catharine sha- king back the bright tresses, which, escaping from the snood that bound them, fell in golden waves over her shoulders. " In truth, llec, it were a sin and a shame to cut her pretty curls, that become her so well," said Louis. " But we have no scissors, ma belle, so you need fear no injury to your precious locks." " For the matter of that, Louis, we could cut them with your couteau-de-cliasae. I could tell you a story that my father told me, not hmg since, of Charles Stuart, the second king of that name in Endand. You know he was tlie CD grand-uncle of the young Chevalier Charles Edward, that- my father talks of and loves so much." "I know all about him," said Catharine, nodding sagaciously ; " let us h(^ar the story of his grand-uncle. But I should like to know what my hair and Louis's knife can have to do with King Charles." " Wait a bit, Kate, and you shall hear, that is, if you have patience," said her brother. "Well then, you must know, that after some great battle, the name of which I forg«^%* in 5 Ik '] I ^e than * Battle of Worcester. 34 THK CANADIAN CliUbOES. )i'.l which the king and his liandl'ul of brave soldiers were defeated by the forces of the Parliament, (the Koundheads as they were called,) the poor young king w/is hunted like a partridge upon the mountains ; a large price was set on his head, to be given to any traitor who should slay him, or bring him prisoner to Oliver Cromwell. He was obliged to dress himself in all sorts of queer clothes, and hide in all manner of strange out-of-the-way places, and keep company with rude and humble men, the better to hide his real rank from the cruel enemies that sought his life. Once he hid along with a gallant gentle- man,* one of his own brave officers, in the branches of a great oak. Once he was hid in a mill ; and another time he was in the house of one Pendril, a woodman. The soldiers of the Parliament, who were always prowling about, and popping in unawares wherever they sus- pected the poor king to be hidden, were, at one time, in the very room where he was standing beside the fire." " Oh !" exclaimed Catharine, " that was fright- ful. And did they take him prisoner ?" " No ; for the wise woodman and his brothers, fearing lest the soldiers should discover that he was a cavalier and a gentleman, by the long t Colonel Careless. THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. 65 curls that the king's men all wore in tLose days, and called lovelocks^ begged of his majesty to let his hair be cropped close to his head." " That was very hard, to lose his nice curls." " I dare say the young king thought so too, but it was better to lose his hair than his head. So, I suppose, the men told him, for he suffered tliem to cut it all close to his head, laying down his head on a rough deal table, or a chopping- block, while his faithful friends with a large knife trimmed off the curls." " I wonder if the young king thought at that minute of his poor father, who, you know, was forced by wicked men to lay down his head upon a block to have it cut from his shoulders, because Cromwell, and others as hard-hearted as himself, willed, that he should die." "Poor king!" said Catharine, sighing, "1 see that it is better to be poor children, wandering on these plains under God's own care, than to be kings and princes at the mercy of bad and sinful men." " Who told your father all these things, Hec?" said Louis. "It was the son of his brave colonel, who knew a great deal about the history of the Stuart kings, for our colonel had been with Prince Charles, the young chevalier, and fought by his side when he was in Scotland; he loved 2 53 t5 66 THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. him dearly, and, after the battle of Culloden, wbere the prince lost all, and was driven from place to place, and had not where to lay his head, he went abroad in hopes of better times ; (but those times did not come for the poor prince;) and our colonel, after awhile, through the friendship of General Wolfe, got a commis- sion in the army that was embarking for Quebec, and, at last, commanded the regiment to which my father belonged. He was a kind man, and my father loved both him and his son, and grieved not a little when he parted from him." " Well," said Catharine, " as you have told me such a nice story. Mister Hec, I shall forgive the affront about my curls." " Well, then, to-morrow we are to try our luck at fishing, and if we fail, we will make us bows and arrows to kill deer or small game ; I fancy we shall not be over particular as to its quality. Why should not we be able to find subsistence as well as the wild Indians?" " True," said Hector, " the wild men of the wilderness, and the animals and birds, all are fed by the things that He provideth ; then, wherefore should His white children fear ?" " I have often heard my father tell of the privations of the lumberers, when they have fallen short of provisions, and of the contri- vances of himself and old Jacob Morel le, when I ! THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. illoden, m from lay bia times ; le poor ^brongb jommis- Quebec, wliich. lan, and on, and 1 bim." ive told 1 forgive try our take us ;ame; I IS to its to find of tbe all are ,; tben, ?" of tbe bavo contri- L wben tbey were lost for several days, nay, weeks I believe it was. LiLo tbe Indians, tbey made tbemselves bows aud arrows, using tbe sinews of tbe deer, or fresb tbongs of leatber, for bow- strings ; and wben tbey could not get game to eat, tbey boiled tbe inner bark of tbe slippery elm to jelly, or bircb bark, and drank tbe sap of tbe sugar maple wben tbey could get no water but melted snow only, wbicb is unwbol^- some ; at last, tbey even boiled tbeir own mo- cassins.'' " Indeed, Louis, tbat must bave been a very unsavoury disb," said Catbarine. " Tbat old buckskin vest would bave made a famous pot of soup of itself," added Hector, " or tbe deer-skin bunting sbirt." " Well, tbey migbt bave been reduced even to tbat," said Louis, laugbing, " but for tbe good fortune tbat befell tbem in tbe way of a balf- roasted bear." " Nonsense, cousin Louis, bears do not run about ready roasted in tbe forest, like tbe lamba in tbe old nurserv tale." " Well now, Kate, tins was a fact ; at least, it was told as one by old Jacob, and my fatber did not deny it ; sball I tell you about it ? Atter passing several bungry days witb no better food to keep tbem alive tban tbe scra- pings of tbe inner bark of tbe poplars and elms, 15 \\i V n I \r, \A 68 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. f'li which was not very substantial for hearty men^ they encamped one night in a thick, dark swamp, — not the sort of place they would have chosen, but that they could not help themselves, having been enticed into it by the tracks of a deer or a moose, — and night came upon them unawares, 30 they set to work to kindle up a fire with spunk, and a flint and knife ; rifle they had none, or maybe they would have had game to eat. Old Jacob fixed upon a huge hollow pine, that lay across their path, against which he soon piled a glorious heap of boughs and arms of trees, and whatever wood he could collect, and lighted up a fine fire. You know what a noble hand old Jacob used to be at making up a roar- ing fire ; he thought, I suppose, if he could not have warmth within, he would have plenty of it without. The wood was dry pine and cedar and birch, and it blazed away, and crackled and burnt like a pine-torch. By and by they heard a most awful growling close to them. ' That's a big bear, as I live,' said old Jacob, looking all about, thinking to see one come out from the thick bush ; but Bruin was nearer to him than he thought, for presently a great black becii burst out from the butt-end of the great burn- ing log, and made towards Jacob ; just then the wnid blew the flame outward, and it caught the bear's thick coat, and he was all in a blaze in iiji THE CANADIAN C HUSOES. 69 a moment. No doubt the heat of the fire had penetrated to the hollow of the log, where he had lain himself snugly up for the winter, and wakened him ; but Jacob seeino: the hu;]re black brute all in a flame of fire, bcc^an to think it was Satan's own self come to carry him off, and he roared with fright, and the bear roared with pam and rage, and my father roared with laugh- ing to see Jacob's terror ; but he did not let the bear laugh at him, for he seized a thick pole that he had used for closing in the brands and logs, and soon demolished the bear, who was so blinded with the fire and smoke that he made no fight ; and they feasted on roast bear's flesh for many days, i\nd got a capital skin to cover them beside." " What, Louis ! after the fur was all singed ?" said Catharine. " Kate, you are too particular," said Louis ; " a story never loses, you know." Hector laughed heartily at the adventure, and enjoyed the dilemma of the bear in his winter qu-^^-ters ; but Catharine was somewhat sliocked at the levity displayed by her cousin and brother, when recounting the terror of old Jacob and the sufferings of the poor bear." *' You boys are always so unfeeling," she said, gravely. " Indeed, Kate," said her brother, " the day 70 THE CAXADIAX CRUSOES. may come when tlie sight of a, good piece of roast bear's flesh will be no unwelcome sight. If we do not find onr way back to Cold Springa before the winter sets in, we may be reduced to as bad a state as poor Jacob and my uncle were in the pine swamps, on the banks of the St. John." " Ah !" said Catharine, tr imblinir, " that would be too bad to happen." " Courage, ma belle, let us not despair for the morrow. Let us see what to-morrow will do for us ; meantime, we will not neglect the blessings we still possess ; see, our partridge is ready, let us eat our supper, and be thankful ; and for grace let us say, ' Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' " Long exposure to the air had sharpened their appetites — the hungry wanderers needed no further invitation, the scanty meal, equally divided, was soon desj. atched. It is a common saying, b it excellent to be remembered by any wanderers in our forest wilds, that those who travel by the sun travel in a circle, and usuallv find themselves at niprht in the same place from whence they started in the mornino^ ; so it was with our wanderers. At sunset, they found themselves once more in the ravine, beside the big stone, in which they had rested at noon. They had imagined them THE CANADIAN CKL'SOES. 71 selves miles and miles distant from it; they were grievously disappointed. They had en- couraged each other with the confident hope that they were drawing near to the end of their bewildering journey ; they were as far from their home as ever, without the slightest clue to guide them to the right path. Despair is not a feeling which takes deep root in the youthful breast. The young are always so hopeful ; so confident in their own wisdom and skill in averting or conquering danger; so trusting; so willing to believe that there is a peculiar Provi- dence watching over them. Poor children ! they had indeed need of such a belief to strengthen their minds and encourage them to fresh exertions, for new trials were at hand. The broad moonlight had already flooded the recesses of the glen with light, and all looked fresh and lovely in the dew, which glittered on tree and leaf, on herb and flower. Catharine, who, though weary with her fatiguing wander- ings, could not sleep, left the little hut of boughs which her companions had put up near the granite rock in the valley for her accommo- dation, and ascended the western bank, where the last jutting spur of its steep side formed a lofty cliff-like promontory, at the extreme verge of which the roots of one tall spreading oak formed a most inviting seat, from whence iP '11 ! 1- ft, 11 I f 72 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 111!!!! i!.:::|i the traveller looked down into a level track, which stretched away to the edge of the lake. This flat had been the estuary of the mountain stream, which had once rushed down between the hills, forming a narrow gorge ; but now, all was changed ; the waters had ceased to flow, the granite bed was overgrown, and carpeted with deer-grass and flowers of many hues, wild fruits and bushes, below ; while majestic oaks and pines towered above. A sea of glittering foliage lay beneath Catharine's feet ; in the distance the eye of the young girl rested on a belt of shining waters, which girt in the shores like a silver zone; beyond, yet more remote to the northward, stretched the illimitable forest. Never had Catharine looked upon a scene so still or so fair to the eye ; a holy calm seem- ed to shed its influence over her young mind, and peaceful tears stole down her cheeks. Not a sound was there abroad, scarcely a leaf stirred ; she could have staved for hours there gazing on the calm beauty of nature, and com- muning with her own heart, when suddenly a stirring, rustling sound caught her ear ; it came from a hollow channel on one side of the promontory, which was thickly overgrown with the shrubby dog-wood, wild roses, and bilberry bushes. Imagine the terror which seized the poor girl, on perceiving a grisly beast break- THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 73 ing through the covert of the bushes. With a scream and a bound, which the most deadly fear alone could have inspired, Catharine sprung from the supporting trunk of the oak, dashed down the precipitous side of the ravine; now clinging to the bending sprays of the flexile dog-wood — now to some fragile birch or poplar — now trusting to the yielding heads of the sweet-scented ceanothus, or filling her hands with sharp thorns from the roses that clothed the bank ; flowers, grass, all were alike clutched at in her rapid and fearful descent. A loose fragment of granite on which she had unwittingly placed her foot rolled from under her; unable to regain her balance she fell forwards, and was precipitated through the bushes into the ravine below ; conscious only of unspeakable terror and an agonizing pain in one of her ankles, which rendered her quite powerless. The noise of the stones she had dislodged in her fall and her piteous cries brought Louis and Hector to her side, and they bore her in their arms to the hut of boughs and laid her down upon her bed of leaves and grass and young pine boughs. When Catharine was able to speak, she related to Louis and. Hector the cause of her fright. She was sure it must have been a wolf by his sharp teeth, long jaws, and grisly coat. The last glance she had had G :- I 7^ THE CAXAIJIAX CRUSOES. |i!il|^ of him had lilled licr vvitli terror, he was stand- ing on a fallen tree with liis eyes fixed upon her — she could tell them no more that happen- ed, she never felt the ground she was on, so great was her fright. Hector was half dis[)osed to scold his sister for rambling over the hills alone, but Louis was full of tender com})assion for la belle cousins, and would not suifer her to be chidden. Fortu- nately, no bones had been fractured, though the sinews of her ankle were severely sprained ; but the pain was intense, and after a sleepless night, the boys found to their grief and dismay, that Catharine was unable to put her foot to the ground. This was an unlooked-for aggravation of their misfortunes ; to pursue their wandering was for the present impossible ; rest was their only remedy, excepting the application of such cooling medicaments as circumstances would supply them with. Cold water constantly ap- plied to the swollen joint was the first thing that was suggested ; but, simple as was the lo- tion, it was not easy to obtain it in sufficient quantities. They were full a quarter of a mile from the lake shore, and the cold springs near it were yet further off; and then the only ves- sel they had was the tin-pot, which hardly con- tained a pint ; at the same time the thirst of the fevered sufferer was int(.)lerable, and had also to TUb: CANADIAN CliUSOES. 75 s on, so cousine. be provided for. Poor Catliarine, wluit uuex peered misery she now endured I The vidley and its neiLL'hboiirin;^ hills abound- ed in strawberries; they were now ripening in abundanec ; the ground was searlet in places with this delieious fruit; they proved a blessed relief to the poor sufferer's burning thirst. Hec- tor and Louis were unwearied in supplying her with them. Louis, ever fertile in expedients, crushed the cooling fruit and applied them to the sprained foot; rendering vhe application still more grate- ful by spreading them upon the large, smooth leaves of the sapling oak; these he bound on with strips of the leathery bark of the moose- wood,* which he had found growing in great abundance near the entrance of the ravine. Hector, in the mean time, was not idle. After having collected a good supply of ripe straw- berries, he climbed the hills in search of bird's eggs and small game. About noon he returned with the good news of having discovered a Fpring of fine water in an adjoining ravine, be- neath a clump of bass-wood and black cherry- trees ; he had also been so fortunate as to kill a woodehuck, having met with many of their i n * " Dl/'ca ■paliistris,'''' — Moose-wood. American mezereon, leal lier-wood. From the Greek, dirka, a fountain or wot placei it^ usual place of growth. 76 THK CANADIAN CKL'SOES. burrows in the gravelly sidos of tli(3 hilln. Tno woodchuck seems to be a link between the rab- bit and badger ; its colour is that of a leveret ; it climbs like the racoon and burrows like the rabbit; its eyes are large, full and dark, the lip cleft, the soles of the feet naked, claws sharp, ears short ; it feeds on grasses, grain, fruit, and berries. The flesh is white, oily, and, in the summer, rank, but is eaten in the fall by the Indians and woodsmen; the skin is not much valued. They are easily killed by dogs, though, being expert climbers, they often baflle their enemies, clinging to the bark beyond their reach ; a stone or stiek well-aimed soon kills them, but they often bite sharply. The woodchuck proved a providential supply, and Hector cheered his companions with the assurance that they could not starve, as there were plenty of these creatures to be found. They had seen one or two about the Cold Springs, but they are less common in the deep Surest lands tlian on the drier, more open plains. " It is a great pity we have no larger vessel to bring our water from the spring in," said Hector, looking at the tin-pot ; " one is so apt to stumble among stones and tangled underwood. If we only had one of our old bark dishes we liould get a good supply at once." "There is a fallen birch not far from this," Tin-: CANADIAN C HUSOES. 77 Irt. Tna the rab- leveret ; like tho :, tho lip s sharp, riiit, and , in the I by tho lot much , though, lie their id their )on kills 1 supply, ith the s there found, lie Cold lie deep plains, r vessel " said o apt to erwood. Isbes we this/ laid Louis ; " I have hero my trusty knife ; what is there to hinder us from manuliicturing a vessel capable of holding water — a gallon if you like ?^' '*IIow can you sew it together, cousin?" asked Catharine; "you have neither deer sinews, nor war-ta[)." [The Indian name for tho flexble roots of the tamarack, or swamp larch, which they make use of in manufacturing the birch baskets and canoes.] " I have a substitute at hand, ma belle," and Louis pointed to the strips of leather-wood that he had collected for binding the dressings on his cousin's foot. When an idea once struck Louis, he never rested till he worked it out in some way. In a few minutes he wasbusily employed, stripping sheets of the ever-useful birch-bark from the trunk that had fallen at the foot of the " Wolf's Crag" — for so the children had nam.cd the memorable spot where poor Catharine's accident had occurred. The rough outside coatings of the bark, which are of silvery whiteness, but are ragged from exposure to the action of the weather in the larger and older trees, he peeled off, and then cutting the bark so that the sides lapped well over, and the corners were secured from cracks, he proceeded to pierce holes opposite to 2 ^ 7h THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. each t» \er, and with some trouble managed to stitch them tightly together, by drawing strips of the moose or leather- wood through and through. The first attempt, of course, was but rude and ill-shaped, but it answered the purpose, and only leaked a little at the corners for want of a sort of flap, wliich he had forgotten to al- low in cutting out the bark. This flap in the Indian baskets hud dishes turns up, and keeps all tight and close. The defect he remedied in his subsequent attempts. In spite of its de- ficiencies, Louis's water-jar was looked upon with great admiration, and highly commended by Catharine, who almost forgot her sufferings while watching her cousin's proceedings. Louis was elated by his own successful ingenuity, and was for running off directly to the spring. " Catharine shall now have cold water to bathe her poor ankle with, and to quench her thirst," he said, joyfully springing to his feet, ready foi' a start up the steep bank ; but Hector quietly restrained his lively cousin, by suggesting the possibility of his not finding the " fountain in the wilderness," as Louis termed the spring, or losing himself altogether. " Let us both go together, then," cried Louia. Catharine cast on her cousin an imploring glance. "Do not leave me, dear Louis; Hector, do THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 79 not let me be left alone." Ilcr sorrowful appeal stayed tlie steps of the volatile Louis. "Go you, Hector, as you know the way; I vrill not leave you, Kate, since I was the cause of all you have suffered; I will abide by you in joy or in sorrow till I see you once more safe in your own dear mother's arms." Comforted by this assurance, Catharine quickly dashed away the gathering tears from her cheeks, and chid her own foolish fears. " But you know, dear cousin," she said, " I am so helpless, and then the dread of th-^t hor- rible wolf makes a coward of me." After some little time had elapsed, Hector returned ; the bark vessel had done its duty to admiration, it only wanted a very little im- provement to make it complete. The water was cold and pure. Hector had spent a little time in deepening the mouth of the spring, and placing some stones about it. He described the ravine as being much deeper and wider, and more gloomy than the one they occupied. The sides and bottom were clothed with magnincent oaks. It was a grand sight, he said, to stand on the jutting spurs of this great ravine, and look down upon the tops of the trees that lay below, tossing their rounded heads like thu waves of a big sea. There were many lovely flowers, vetches of several kinds, blue, white, and pea- 2 S3 50 THE CANADIAN CllUSOES. cilled. twining among the grass. A beautiful white-belled flower, that was like the "Morning glory," {Convolvulus 7najor,)iind scarlet-cups* in abundance, with roses in profusion. The bottom of this ravine w^as strewed in places with huge blocks of black granite, cushioned with thick green moss; it opened out into a wide flat, similar to the one at the mouth of the valley of the Big Stone. f These children were not insensible to the beauties of nature, and both Hector and his sis- ter had insensibly imbibed a love of the grand and the picturesque, by listening w^ith untiring interest to their father's animated and enthusias- tic descriptions of his Highland home, and the wild mountainous scenery that surrounded it. Though brought up in solitude and uneducated, yet there was nothing vulgar or rude in the minds or manners of these young people. Sim- ple and untaught they were, but they were guileless, earnc^jt, and unsophisticated ; and if they lacked the knowledge that is learned from book's, they possessed much that was useful and practical, which had been taught by experience and observation in the school of necessity. * Frich/wna, or painted-cup. t The mouth of this ravine is now under the plough, and waving flclds of golden grain and verdant pastures have taken place of the wild shrubs aud flowers that formerly adorned if The lot belongs to G. Ley, Esq. THE CANADIAN CJiUSOES. 8! For several days the paiu and fever arising from her sprain rendered any attempt at re- moving Catharine from the valley of the " Big Stone" impracticable. The ripe fruit began to grow less abundant in their immediate vicinity, and neither woodchuck, partridge, nor squirrel bad been killed; and our poor wanderers now endured the agonizing pains of hunger. Con- tinual exposure to the air by night and by day contributed not a little to increase the desire for food. It is true, there was the yet untried lake, "bright, boundless, and free," gleaming in sil- very splend(jur ; but in practice they knew noth- ing of the fisher's craft, though, as a matter of report, tliey were well acquainted with all the mysteries of it, and had often listened with delight to the feats performed by their respective fathers in the art of angling, spearing, and net- ting. " I have heard my father say, that so bold and numerous were the fish in the lakes and rivers he was used to fish in, that they could be taken by the hand, with a crooked pin and coarse thread, or wooden spear ; but that was in the lower province ; and oh, what glorious tales I have heard him tell of spearing fish by torch- light 1" " The fish may be wiser or not so numeroui* in this lake," said Hector ; " however, if Kate III 82 THE CANADIAN' CKL'SOES. can bear to be niDved, we will go down to the shore and try our luck; but what can we do? we have neither hook nor line provided." Louis nodded his head, and sitting down on a projecting root of a scrub oak, produced from the depths of his capacious pocket a bit of tin, which he carefully selected from among a niis- celhineous hoard of treasures. " Here," said he, hokling it up to the view as he spoke, " here is theshde of an old powder-flask, which I picked up from among some rubbish that my sister had thrown out the other day." "I fear you will make nothing of that," said Hector, " a bit of bone would be better. If you had a file now, you might do some- 5» thing. "Stay a moment, Monsieur Ilec, what do you call this?" and Louis triumphantly handed out of his pocket the very instrument in ques- tion, a few inches of a broken, rusty file ; very rusty, indeed, it was, but still it might be made to answer in such ingenious hands as those of our young French Canadian. " I well remem- ber, Katty, how you and Mathilde laughed at me for treasuring up this old thing months ago. Ah, Louis, Louis, you little knew the use it was to be put to then," he added thoughtfully, apos- trophizing himself; "how little do we know what is to befall us in our young days I" . I THE CAXADIAN CRUSOIvS. 83 "God knows it all," said Hector, graveW, ** we arc under His good guidance." " You are right, lice, let us trust in His mer- cy, and He will take good care of us. Come, let us go to tlie lake," Catharir. " ''dded, and sprung to lier feet, but as c|uiekl} sank down upon the grass, and regarded her companions with a piteous look, saying, "I cannot walk one step ; alas, alas! what is to become of me? lam oidy a useless bnrden to you. If you leave me here, I shall fall a prey to some savage beast, and you cannot carry mc with you in youi- search for food," " Dry your tears, sweet cousin, you shall go with us. Do vou think that Hector or Louis would abandon you in your helpless state, to die of hunger or thirst, or to be torn by wolves or bears? We will carrj^ you by turns; the dis- tance to the lake is nothing, and y(3U are not so very heavy, ma belle cousine ; see, I could dance with you in my arms, you are so light a bur- don," — and Louis "'avly cau'dit the sulfering iz'irl up in hin arms, and with rapid steps sti'uck into the deer path that wound through the ravine towards the lake; but when they reached a pretty rounded knoll, (where Wolf To wer'^* now stands,) L(;uis would fain place his cousin on a 2 r See accouuL of tlie " Wolf Tower," in Uio Appendix. 94 TlIK CANADIAN' CilL'SOES. flat Stone bencatli a big oak that grew beside the bank, and fling himself on the flowery ground at her feet, while he drew a long breath, and p;athercd the fruit that grew among the long grass to refresh himself after his fatigue; and then, while resting on the "Elfin Knowe,," as Catharine called the hill, he employed himself with manufacturing a rude sort of fish-hook with the aid of his knife, the bit of tin, and tlie rusty file ; a -bit of twine was next produced, — boys have always a bit of string in their pockets, and Louis, as I have before hinted, was a provident hoarder of such small matters. The string was soon attached to the hook, and Hector was not long in cutting a sapling that answered well the purpose of a fishing-rod, and thus equipped they [)roceeded to the lake shore, Hector and Louis carrying the crippled Catharine by turns. AVhen there, they selected a sheltered spot beneath a grove of overhanging cedars and birches, fes- tooned with wild vines, which, closely woven, formed a natural bower, quite impervious to the rays of the sun. A clear spring flowing from the upper part of tlie bank -unong the hanging network of loose fibres and twisted roots, fell tinkling over a mossy log at her feet, and quietly anread itself among the round shingly pebbles that formed the beach of the lake. Beneath this pleasant bower Catharine could repose, and THE CAXADTAX CRTSOES. 85 watcli her companions at tlioir novel cniploy* ment, or bathe her feet and infirm ankle in the cool streamlet that ri})pled in tiny wavelets over its stony bed. If the amusement of fishing prove pleasant and exciting when pursued for pastime only, it may readily be conceived that its interest must be greatly heightened when its object is satis- fvino' a craving; deg;ree of hun^^er. Amono; the sunny spots on the shore, innumerable swarms of the flying grasshopper or field crickets were sporting, and one of these proved an attractive bait. The lino was no sooner cast into the wa- ter, than the hook was seized, and many were the brilliant specimens of sun-fish that our eager fishermen cast at Catharine's feet, all gleaming with gold and azure scales. Nor was there any lack of perch, or that delicate fish commonly known in these waters as the pink roach. Tired at last with their easy sport, the hungry boys next proceeded to the grateful task of scaling and dressing their fish, and this they did very expeditiously, as soon as the nriore difficait part, that of kindling up a fire on the beach, had been accomplished with the help of the flint, knife, and dried rushes. The fish were then suspended, Indian fashion, on forked sticks stuck in the ground and inclined at a suitable angle 8 g 66 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. towards tlie glowing embers, — a few minutes sufTieed to cook tliem. " Truly," said Catharine, wlien the plentiful repast was set before her, " God hath, indeed, snread a table for us here in the wilderness ;" so miraculous did this ample supply of delicious food seem in the eyes of this simple child of nature. They had often heard tell of the facility with which the fish could be caught, but they had known nothing of it from their own experience, £LS the streams and creeks about Cold Springs afforded them but little opportunity for exercising their skill as angjlers; so that with the rude im- plements with whicli they were furnished, there- suit of their mornins; success seemed little short of chvine interference in their behalf. Happy and contented in the belief that thev were not forgotten by their heavenly Father, these poor "children in the wood" looked up with grati- tude to that beneficent Beinoj who sufiereth not even a sparrow to fall unheeded. Upon Catharine, in particular, these things made a deep impression, and there as she sat in the green shade, soothed by the lulling sound of the flowing waters, and +he soft murmuring of the many-coloured insects that hovered among whe fraojrant leaves which thatched her sylvan 'jower, her young heart was raised in humble THE CANADIAN CUL'SOES. 87 and lioly aspirations to the great Creator of all things living. A peace ful calm diirused itself over her mind, as with hands meekly folded across her breast, the young girl prayed with the guileless fervour of a trusting and faithful heart. The sun was just sinking in a flood of glory behind the dark pine-woods at the head of the lake, when JTector and Louis, who had been carefully providing fish for the morrow, (which was the Sabbath,) came loaded with tlieir finny prey carefully strung upon a willow wand, and found Catharine sleeping in her bower. Louis was loth to break her tranquil slumbers, but her careful brother reminded him of the danger to which she was exposed, sleeping in the dew by the water side; "Moreover," he added, "we have some distance to go, and we have left the precious axe and the birch-bark vessel in the valley." These thimrs were too valuable to be lost, and BO they roused the sleeper, and slowly recom- menced their toilsome way, following the same path that they had made in the morning. For- tunately, Hector had taken the precaution to bend down the flexile branches of the dogwood and break the tops of the young trees that they had passed between on their route to the lake, and by this clue they were enabled with toler- P5 > S3 r m 38 THE CAXADIAN CHL'SOES. i:ii able certainty to retrace? their way, nothing doubting of arriving in time at the wigwam of boughs by tlie rock in tlje valley. Their progress wa.s, however, slow, burdened with the care of the lame girl, and heavily laden with the fish. The purple shades of twilight soon clouded the scene, deepened by the heavy masses of foliai2;e, whieli east a j^rreater deiiTee of obscurity upon their narrow path ; for they had now left the oak-flat and entered the gorge of the valley. The utter loneliness of the path, the grotesque shadows of the trees, tliat stretched in long array across the steep banks on either side, taking, now this, now that wild and fanci- ful shape, awakened strange feelings of dread in the mind of these poor forlorn wanderers ; like most persons bred up in so^iiude, their imagina- tions were strongly tinctured with superstitious fears. Here then, in the lonely wilderness, far from their beloved parents and social hefirth, with no visible arm to protect them from danger, none to encourage or to cheer them, can it be matter of surprise if they started with terrDr- blanched cheeks at every fitful breeze that rtsr tied the leaves or waved the branches abo^i them ? The gay and lively Louis, blithe as any wild bird in the bright sunlight, was the most easily oppressed by this strange superstitious fear, when THE CANADIAN' CRrsOES. 89 the shades of cvoiiing wore closing round, and he would start witli ill-disguised terror at every sound or sliape that met his ear or eye, tliough the next minute he was the first to laui^di at liin own weakness. In Hector, the feeling wns of a graver, more solemn cnst, recalling to liis mind all the wild and wondrous tales with which his father was wont to entertain the children, an they crouched round the huge log-fire of an evening. It is strange the charm these marvel- lous tales possess for tlie youthful mind, no mat- ter how improbable, or how often told ; year after year they will be listened to with the same ardour, with an interest that appears to grow with' repetition. And still, as they slowly wan- dered along, Hector would repeat to his breath- less auditors those Highland legends that were as familiar to their ears as household words, and still they listened with fear and wonder, and deep awe, till at each pause he made, the deep- drawn breath and half- repressed shudder might be heard. And now the little party paused ir- resolutely, fearing to proceed, — they had omitted to notice some land-mark in their progress ; the moon had not long been up, and her light was as yet indistinct; so they set them down on a little grassy spot on the bank, and rested till fche moon should lighten their path. Louis was confident they were not far from 8* n > llir r t IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) t % ^/ 4 ^ .<^: !^\<^ /L 7. 4 V 1.0 I.I Li 12.8 |2.5 ■^ Ui |2.2 2.0 140 IMIi l.25|..4|,.6 < 6" ^ — ► ^ IV.^'^.^ %f^ ^Vf^^^^^ .1 %' ''^ w Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST AAAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716)872-4503 :''>\* 4 ^ %" 1^ 1\ f)0 TllK CANADIAN (.'UrSOKS. "the l>iL^ StoiK'," l)ul careful Hector liad hi.'? tlonl)(s, aiifi C;.l!iariiie was weary. ^I'lie cliiMi'di had ahvaily conceived a sort ol' homo feeliii,!:" for tlie valley and ihe mass of stone tiiat had sheltereil them (or so many nights, and soon the dai'k ma>s came in siLiht, as the broad full light oi' the now risen moon fell upon its rugged si(h)s; they were nearer to it than thev had imagined. "Forward lor 'the Big Stone' and the wig warn," cried Louis. "iruslil" said Catharine, "look there, raising her hand with a warning gesture. "Where? what?" "'i'he wolf! the wolf!" gasped out the terrified girl. There indeed, upon the summit of the block, in the attitude of a sentinel or watcher, stood the gaunt-ligurcd animal, and as she spoke, a long wild cry, the sound of which seemed as if it came midway between the earth and the tops of the tall pines on the lofty ridge above them, struck terror into their hearts, as with speechless horror they gazed upon the dark outline of the terrible beast. There it stood, with its head raised, its neck stretched outward, and ears erect, as if to catch the echo that gave back those dismal sounds; another minute and he was gone, and tlie crushing oi branches, and the rush of many feet on the hiydi bank above, was followed by the prolonged TllK ('ANADIAN ("Kl'SoKS. 91 cry of some pix^r fn'iitivc aniiiial, — ti (l(\'^{.- in the v;i.st wililernosH, Tlio bouiiJk;!sn cuiilijg'uily of shaily 1" A FOirrNIGIlT liud iiou' passed, and Cath- * '*~^ arine still snil'iTL'd so much from })ain and fever, that they were unable to continue their wandei'inus; all that llectoi'and his cousin could do, was to carry her to the bower by the lak(», wiiere she reclined whilst they caught lish. The ])ainful lonuin^ to rei»:ain their lost home liad lost nothing of its intensity; and often would the poor sullerer start from her bed of leaves and boughs, to ring her hands and wee[), and call in piteous tones upon that dear father and mother, who would have given worlds, had they been at their command, to have heard but one accent of her beloved voice, to have felt one loving pressure from that fevered hand. Ilo})e, the consoler, hovered over the path of the young wanderers long after she had ceased U) whisper comfort to the desolate hearts of the mournful ])arents. Of all that sulU'i'cd bv this sad calamitv, no one was more to bo pitied than Louis Perron ■ deeply did the poor boy lament the thoughtless f5 94 'J'llK CANADIAN CIMSOKS. !'l folly which h;id involved liLs cousin Catharine in HO terrible a niiril'ortunc. "if Kate had not been with me," he woidd sa}', " wc should not liave been lost; for Hector is so cautious and so carelul, he would not have left the cattle-] >allj ; but we wei'e so heedless, wc th()U,^i)t only of flowers and insects, of birds, and such trilks, .mid j^paid no heed to our way/' Louis Perron, such is life. 'J'he youuLf press gayly onward, gathcr- inu the flowers, and Ibllowiirjf the iiav butter- flies that attract them in the I'orni of })leasure and amusement; thev fjruet the ij^rave counsels of the thoughtful, till they fmd the ])ath they have followed is beset with briers and thorns ; and a thousand ))aiuful dilliculties that were un- seen, unexpected, overwhelm and bring them to a sad sense of their own folly ; and perhaps the punishment of their errors does not fall upon themselves alone, but u[)on the innt)cent, wdio have unknowingly been made participators in their fault. By the kindest and tenderest attention to all her comforts, Louis endeavoured to alleviate his cousin's sufferings, and soften her regrets; nay, he would often speak cheerfully and even gayly , to her, when his own heart was heavy, and his eyes ready to overflow with tears. *']f it were not for our dear })arcnts and the dear children at home," he would say, " wo THK CANADIAN CUl'SOKS. 95 •0 LI ri- le 111 to )S tlio Up(Jll who to all itc Ins l1 liLs (1 the " wo might R[)cn(I our time iriost ]Kip[)ily a[)()ii these charming })hiin.-;; it is iiiiieh more delightful hero than in the dark, thiek woods ; see liow brightly the sunbeams eome down and ghulden the ground, and eover the earth with fi'uit and flowers. Jt is ])li3asant to be able to lish and hunt, and trap the game. Yes, if they were all here, we would buihl us a ni<.'(; logdiouse, and clear up tliese bushes on the llat iit^ir the lake. This 'Kllhi Knowe,' as you eall it, Ivate, would be a nice spot to build u[)on. Sjo these glori- ous old oaks; not one should be cut down, anci we should have a boat and a eanoe, juid voyage across to yonder islands. Would it not be charming, ma belle?" and Catharine, smiliuL^ at the picture drawn so eloquently, would enter into the spirit of the project, and say, — "Ah! Louis, that would be pleasant." "If we had but my father's rifle now," said Hector, " and old Wolfe." " Yes, and Fanchctte, dear little Fanchctte, that trees the partridges and black squirrels," said Louis. "I saw a doe and a half-grown fawn beside her this very morning, at break of day," said Hector. " The fawn was so little fearful, that if 1 had had a stick in my hand, I couhl have killed it. I came within ten yards of the spot where it stood. 1 know it would be easy to tl P V)6 iriK CANADIAN" ClU'SOKS. cat(!li Olio bv making a (Icail-fiill." [A sort ol trap ill which gamo is taken in tho woodri, or ou the hanks of crocks.] "If \vc liad but a dear fawn to troiic about lis, like Mi.Liiion, dear innocent Million," cried Catharines, " I should never ie( 1 lonely then." "And W(j should never want for meat, if we could catch a line fawn IVom time to time, ma belle." *' Ilec, what arc you tliinkin<^ of?" " I was thinkin^L^, Louis, that if wc were doomed to remain here idl our lives, we must build a house for ourselves; we could not live in the o|)en air without shelter as we have done. The summer will soon })ass, and the rainy season will come, and the bitter frosts and snows of winter will have to be provided against." "l^ut. Hector, do you really think there is no chance of fnubng our way back to Cold Springs? We know it must be behind this lake," said Louis. " True, but whether east, west, or south, we cannot tell ; and whichever way we take now is l)Ut a chance, and if once we leave the lake and get involved in the mazes of that dark forest, we should perish, for we know there is neither water nor berries, nor game to be had as there is here, and we might be soon starved THI-: CANADIAN CKLSOKS. 97 ort ol , or ou about ' cried icn." t, if we me, ma c were re must lot live e liiivc 11(1 tli-e ir frosts ovided |-e is no )rings? n said ith, we |e now le lake dark \ere is ie bad tarved to death. God was good who led us beside this fine lake, and upon these fruitful plains." '*It is a gi)od tiling that I had my axe when we started from Iiouil'," said Hector. " We sijould not have been so well olf without it; wo shall lind the use ol' it if we have to build a house. We must look out for some spot where there is a spring of go(jd water, and — " " No lujrrible wolves," inttMTU[)ted Catharine : " though I love this pretty ravine, and the banks and braes about us, 1 do not think I shall like to stay hero. I heard the wolves only last night, when you and Louis were asleep." " We must not forget to keep watch-fires." " What shall we do for clothes?" said Catha- rine, glancing at her home-spun frock of wool and cotton plaid. " A weightv consideration, indeed " sighed a t/ I 7 Hector; "clothes must be provided before ours are worn out and the winter comes on." " We must ^ ave all the skins of the wood- chucks and squirrels," suggested Louis; "and fawns when we catch them." " Yes, and fawns when we get them," added Hector; "but it is time enough to think of all these things ; we must not give up all hope of home." " I give up all hope ? I shall hope on while I have life," said Catharine. " My dear, dear 9 ir 98 TlIK CANADIAN CULSUKS. fatlicr, he will nrvcr forget his lost cliihUeii ; ho will try juid liiul ns, alive or dciid ; he will never give up the seiireh." Poor child, how long did this hope burn liko a living torch in thy guileless breast I How often, as they roamed tluxMi hills and valleys, were thine eyes sent into ihc gloomy recesses of the dark ravines and tiiick bushes, with the hope that they would meet the advancing form and outstretched arms of thy earthly })arcnts I all in vain — yet the arms of thy heavenly Fa- ther were extended over thee, to guide, to guard, and to sustain thee. IIow often were Catharine's hands lilled with wild-flowers, to carry home, as she fondly said, to sick Louise, or her mother Poor Catharine, how often did your bouc[uets fade ; how often did the sad exile water them with her tears, — • for hers was the hope that keeps alive despair. AVhen they roused them in the morning to recommence their fruitless wanderings, they would say to each other, " Perhaps we shall see our father — he may find us here to-day ;" but evening came, and still he came not, and they were no nearer lo their father's home than they had been the day previous. *' If we could but find our way back to the * Cold Creek,' we might, by following its course, return to Cold Springs," said Hector. TIIK CANAIMAX L'liUSOES. 90 11 ; ho never n Viko lluw alU'Vi*, ilh the )X form ircntsl ily Fa- giuml, to the lourse, "I doubt Hindi the Ihct of the 'Cold Civek ' having jiiiy eoimcetioii wilh our SpriuL,^," said Louis; "1 think it has ils rise in the ' JJeaver Meadow,' and following' its course would only cntan^ile us anionii; those wollish balsam and co- (lar swani])s, or lead us yet further astray into the thiek reeesses of tlu^ })iiie Ibrest. For my j)art, I believe we are already fifty miles from Cold S[)rings." It is one of the bewildering mistakes that all j)ersons who lose their way in the pathless woodd fall into, they have no idea of distance, or tho points of the compass, unless they can see tho sun rise and set, which is not possiljle to do when surrounded by the dense growth of forest- trees ; they rather measure distance by the timo they have been wandering, than by any other token. The children knew that they had been a long time absent from home, wandering hither and thither, and they fancied their journey had been as long as it had been weary. They had indeed the comfort of seeing the sun in his course from east to west, but they knew not in wdiat direc- tion the home they had lost lay ; it was this that troubled them in their choice of the course they should take each day, and at last deter- mined them to lose no more time so fruitlessly, where the peril was so great, but seek for some & uri * »•. w I 100 THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. plf'Msaiit spot wlicr(; tlu^y ini,L»lit ])a.sa tlioir time in salVty, aiul provide fur their present and fu* tare wants. " Tlio worM waH nil l)oforo thom, wlicro to cliooso Their place of rost, uiul I'roviilcuco tlioir guide." Catliarino doelared her nnklo was so mucli BtHjiiL^er than it liad been sinee tlie aeeident, and lier healtli so much amended, that the day after the conversation just recorded, the little jiarty bade farewell to the valley of the "Bi;^^ Stone," and ascending the steep sides of the hills, bent their stejis eastward, keeping the lake to their left hand. Hector led the way, loaded with their household utensils, which consisted only of the axe, which he would trust to no one but himself, the tin-pot, and the birch basket. Louis liad his cousin to assist up the steep banks, like- wise some fish to carry, which had been caught early in the morning. The wanderers thought at first to explore the ground near the lake shore, but soon abandoned this resolution, on finding tiie under-growtli of trees and bushes become so thick, that they made little progress ; and the fatigue of travel- ling was greatly increased by having continually to ]Mit aside the bushes or bend them down. Hector {idvised trying the higher ground; p,nd after following a deer-path through a small Tllh: CANAIilAN CULSOKS. lUl raviuo tli;it crossed th(» hills, they lomul tliftii* selves on a lino extent ol' t;il)le-lantl, rielily, but not too tlenselv wooded with white and lihielc oaks, diversilied with here and tiiei'o a solilMry pine, whieh reared its straight and pilhirdiko trunk in stately "grandeur above its leafv com- panions; a meet cvrie for the bald-ea Ufm m Kvi ♦ Saxifrnga nivalis. lOi THE CAXADIAX CRUSOES. Splendid lilies vary from orange to the bri^'htest scarlet; various species of sunflowers and core- ojysis next appear, and elegant white pj/rolas* scent the air and charm the eve. The delicate lilac and white shrubby asters next appear, and these are followed by the large, deep blue gen- tian, and here and there' 1)V the elegant fringed gentian.f These are the latest and loveliest of the flowers that adorn this tract of land. It is indeed a garden of nature's own planting, but the Avild garden is being converted into fields of grain, and the wild flowers give place to a new race of vegetables, less ornamental, but more useful to man and the races of domestic animals that depend upon him for their sup- port. Our travellers, after wandering over this lovely plain, found themselves, at the close of the day, at the bead of a fine ravine,;}: where they had the good fortune to perceive a spring of pure water, oozing beneath some large moss-covered blocks of black water-worn granite ; the ground was thickly covered with moss about the edges of the spring, and many varieties of flowering slirubs and fruits were scattered along the val- ley and up the steep sides of the surrounding * Tyrola rotnndifolia, P. a?«arifolia. t Gentiana linearis, G. creiiata. t Kilveft's Ravine, above i'iuo-tree Point. THE CAXADIAX CRUSOKS. 105 hills. There were whortleberries, or huckleber- ries, lis ftiey are more usually called, in abun* dance ; bilberries dead ripe, and falling from the bushes at a touch. The vines that wreathed the low bushes and climbed the trees were load- ed with clusters of grapes, l)ut these were yet hard and green ; dwarf lilberts grew on the dry gravelly sides of the hills, yet the rough, prickly calyx that enclosed the nut, filled their lingers witli minute thorns, that irritated the skin like the stings of the nettle ; but as the kernel when ripe was sweet and good, they did not mind the consequences. The moist part of the valley was occupied by a large bed of May-apples,* the fruit of whicli was of unusual size, but they were not ripe, August being the month when they ripen ; there were also wild plums still green, and wild cherries and blackberries ripen- ing; there were great numbers of the wood- chucks' burrows on the hills, while partridges and quails were seen under the thick covert of the blue-berried dog-wood,f that here grew in abundance at the mouth of the ravine where it opened to the lake. As this spot offered many ft* J mm m f t I * Pednphjllum palmnia, — Mandrake, or May-applo. t Cornue sei'icea. The blue berries of this shrub aro eaten by the partridge and wild ducks ; also by the pigeons and other birds. There aro several species of this shrub common tc the Uice liuko. 106 THE CAXADIAX CiirSOES. advantages, our travellers halted for the night, and resolved to make it their licad-qArters for a season, till thoy should meet with an eligible situation for building a winter shelter. Here, then, at the head of the valley, sheltered by one of the rounded hills that formed ita sides, our young people erected a summer hut, somewlrat after the fashion of an Indian wig- wam, which was all the shelter that was requisite while the weather remained so warm. Through the opening at the gorge of this ravine they enjoyed a peep at the distant waters of the lake which terminated the vista, while thev were quite removed from its unwholesome vapours. The temperature of the air for some days had been hot and sultry, scarcely modified by the cool delicious breeze that usuallv sets in about nine o'clock, and blows most refreshingly till four or five in the afternoon. Hector and Louis had gone down to fish for supper, while Catharine busied herself in collecting leaves and dried deer-grass, moss, and fern, of which there was abundance near the tspring. The boys had promised to cut some fresh cedar boughs near the lake shore, and bring them up to form a foundation for their bed, and also to strew Indian-fashion over the floor of the hut by way of a carpet. This sort of carpeting reminds one of the times when the palaces of the English THE CANADIAN' CJIL'.SOKS. lo; kings were strewed with rashes, and brings to mind the old son^'i — " oil ! the ijoldcn days of cfood Queen Boss, "VVIien the tloors were .strowM witli ruslies And the doors went on the liitx^h " Despise not then, you, my refined young reiiders, the rude expedients adopted by theso simple ehildren of the forest, who knew nothing of the luxuries that were to be met with in the liouses of tlie great and the rich. The fragrant carpet of cedar or hemlock-spruce sprigs strewn lightly over the earthen floor, was to them a luxury as great as if it had been taken from the looms of Persia or Turkey, so happy and contented were they in their ignorance. Their bed of freshly gathered grass and leaves, raised from the earth by a heap of branches carefully arranged, was to them as pleasant as beds of down, and the rude hut of bark and poles, as curtains of silk or damask. Having collected as much of these materials ag sne deemed sufficient for the purpose, Catharine next gathered up dry oak branches, plenty of which lay scattered here and there, to make a wnt<)h-fire for the night, and this done, weary and warm, she sat down on a little hillock, beneath the cooling shade of a grove of young aspens, that grew near the hut ; pleased with tho 6 pi- J (H I I lOS THE CANADIAN ( lU'SUES. dunc'mg of the leaves, wliicli fluttered above her head, and fanned her warm cheek with their incessant motion, she thought, like her cousin Louise, that the aspen was the merriest tree in the forest, for it was always dancing, dancing, dancinof, even wlien all the rest were still. She watched the f]jatherinc]: of the distant thunder-clouds, which cast a deeper, more sombre shade upon the pines that girded the northern shores of the lake as with an ebon frame. Insensibly her thoughts wandered far away from the lonely spot whereon she sat, to the stoup* in front of her father's house, and in memory's eye she beheld it all exactly as she liad left it. There stood the big spinning-wheel, just as she had set it aside; the hanks of dyed yarn suspended from the rafters, the basket filled with the carded wool ready for her work. She saw in fancy her father, with his fine athletic upright figure, his sunburnt cheeks and cluster- ing sable hair, his clear, energetic hazel eye ever beaming upon her, his favourite child, with looks of love and kindness as she moved to and fro at her wheel.f There, too, was her mother, with her light step and sweet, cheerful voice, * The Dutch word for verandiah, which is still in commoo ase among tlie Canadians. t Such is the nictliod of workinjf at the large wool wheel, unknown except in Canada. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 109 commoD Binding as she pursued her daily avocations, and Donald and Kenneth driving up the cows to bo milked, or chopi)ing firewood. And as these images, like the ligures 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 slic 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 :ry is heard and panting breath, and the sleeper with a startling scream sprang to her feet ; she dreamed that she was strugGjlinuj in the fano'sof 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 flxther's own brave, devoted dog. What joy, what hope rushed to her heart! She threw herself upon the shaggy neck of the faith- ful 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 ! flxther ! 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, 10 > i < 110 THE CANADIAN CUUSOES. who she now conridcntly believed wiis ap- proaeliiug, might he guided to the spot by the welhkuowii sound of her voiec. Poor chihll the eehoes of thy eager voice, pn^longed by every projecting headkmd of the valley, replied in mocking tones, '' Come quickly !" Bewildereil she paused, listened breathlessly, and again she called, " Father, come quickly, come !" and again the deceitful sounds were repeated, " Quickly come I" The fixithful dog, who had succeeded in track- ing the steps of his lost ' mistress, raised hia bead 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 aj^proaching. Still Catharine could not but think that AVolfe 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 Avigwam, hastily wound up their line, and left the lishing-ground to hurry to her assistance. They could hardly believe their eyes when they saw AVolfe, faithful old Wolfe, their earliest friend and playfellow, named by their father after the gallant hero of Quebec. And they too, like Catharine, thought THE CANADIAN (.'HUSOES. Ill that their friends were not far distant, ai.d joy* fully they climbed the hills and shouter ihey would not bcnv down before the furv of the whiiiwind, and were scat- tered all abroad like ehalVbefoi'e the wind. The eliihlreii thought not of dan^^er for them- selves, but they ieaivd f )r the safl'ty of their fathers, whom thev believed to be not far olV from them. And often 'mid the raging of tho elements they fancied they could distinguish familiar voices calling u[)on 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 deatn wdiile seekini' for usl" and Catharine covered her face and t we})t more bitterly. But Louis would not listen to such melan- cholv forebodinn's. Their fathers were both brave, liardy men, Jiccustomed to every sort of danger and privation; they were able to take cure of themselves. Ves, he was sure they were not far olf; it was this unlucky storm coming on tlnit had prevented them from meeting. ca » »^ 3 116 TIIK CANADIAN CHL'SOES. " To-nif)ri'o\v, iiui clicie, will bo a glorious day after the storm ; it will be a joyful one too, we Khali go out with Wolfe, and ho will rind his masteT, and then — oh, yes ! I dare say my dear father will be with yours. They will have taken good heed to the traek, and we shall soon see our dear mothers and ehere petite Louise." The storm lasted till past midnight, when it gradually subsided, and the poor wanderers were glad to see the murky elouds roll off, and the stars peep forth among their broken masses; but they were redueed to a pitiful state, the hurrieane having beaten down their httle hut, and their garments were drenehed 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 baek 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 ahnost to chilliness, and for some days the weather remained unsettled, and the sky over- cast 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, alFording theni large pieces of bark, which proved very serviceable in thatching tk) sides of the hut. The boys em TIIK CANADIAN CRUSOES. 117 ployed tlicinselves in this work, while Catliarine cooked the lish thov had cauLi'ht the nii2:ht before, witli ii shai'e oi' which ohl Wolfe seemed to be mightily well pleased. After they had breakfasted, tliey all went up towards the high table-land al)ov(; the ravine, with Wolle, to look routid in h(jpe of getting sight of their friends from Cold S[)riiigs, but thi^iigh they kept an anxious l(X)k-()Ut in evcrv direction, thev re- turned, towards evening, tired and h()])eless. Hector had killed a red scpiirrel, and a par- tridge which Wolfe "treed," — that is, stood O 7 7 barking: at the foot of the tree in which it had perched, — and the supply of meat was a season able 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 2:reat 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, ad« mitting the wann sunbeam freely, was favour able both for the bees and the flowers on which they fed, and Louis talked joyfully of the fine Btores of honey they sliouid collect in the fall. He had taught little Fanchon, a small French if 118 Tin: CANADIAN CRUSOES. spaniel of liis futlior's, to fiiul out tho trecg wliero the bees hived, and also the nests of the ground-bees, and she would bark at the foot cf the tree, or seratch with her feet on the ground, as the other dogs barked at the squirrels or the woodchucks; but Fanchon wjis far away, and Wolfe was old, and would learn no new trieks, so Louis knew he had nothinii; but his own oVjservation and the axe to depend upon for proeuring honey. The boj^s had been -unsuccessful for some da^^s past in fishing ; neither perch nor sunfish, pink roach nor mud-pouts,* were to be caught. However, they found water-mussels by groping in the sand, and crayfish among the gravel at the edge of the water only ; the last pinched their fingers very spitefully. The mussels were not very palatable, for want of salt ; but hungry folks must not be dainty, and Louis declared them very good wlien well roasted, covered up with hot embers. " The fishhawks," said he, ** set us a good example, for they eat them, and so do the eaofles 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 wisf? * All these fish are iudigenous to th.c fresh waters of Canada. V THE CAXADIAX C HUSOES. 119 fellow liaJ just let it fall on a stone, wliicli liad tracked tlic shell for him just in the right place. I often see shells lying at the foot of trees, far np 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 tlirough the shell, just as if it had been done with a small auirer, doubtless the work of some bird witli a strong beak." " Do you remember," said Catharine, " the fine pink mussel-shell that Ilec picked up ir the little corn-field last year? it had a hole i. one of the shells too,'^ and when my uncle sav it, he said it must have been dropped by some large bird, a fishhawk possibly, or a heron, and brouizlit from the ^eat lake, as it had been taken out of some deep water, the mussels in our creeka being quite thin-shelled and white." " Do you remember wdiat a quantit}^ 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 sunfish ; they wer^ brought from this very lake, T dare say." * Tills incrcnlons moilo of cradvinof the shells of mussels is comnion to many binls. The erow {Corvus corone) has bc-eu lone; known by Amr;riean naturuHsts to break the thick sheila of the river mussels, by letting them fall from a height on to rock.s and stonoi^i. ■1 f r.^ ■!».» > 120 THE CAXADIAX CRUSOES. " 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; lie 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 pru- dent, and possessed one valuable quality — steady perseverance; he was slow in adopting an opin- ion, but when once convinced, he pushed on steadily till he mastered the subject or overcame the obstacle. "Catharine," said Louis, one day, "the huckleberries are 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 ch^re, 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 THE CANADIAN' CRUSOES. 121 dry them in the sun ; for let me tell yon, llr, 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 theeurranta 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.)* Catharine and Louis (who fancied nothing could be con- trived without his help) attended to the pre- paring 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 * From the abundance of this fruit, the Indians have given the name of Whortleberry Phiin to the hmds on the south sliore. During tlie month of July and the early part of August, largo parties come to the Kice Lake Plains to gather huckleberries, which they preserve by drying, for winter use. These berries make a delicious tar. or pudding, mixed with bilberries juid red-currants, requiring little sugar, 11 C9 M I r 122 THE CANADIAN CKUSOKS. made his appearance. Hector had made on excellent strong bow, Hke the Indian bow, out of a tough piece of hickory wood, which ho found in one of his rambles, and ho made an-owa with wood that he seasoned in the smoke, sharpening the heads with great care with hi>: knifcj 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 drawino: through the hands, answered for a bow- string ; but afterwards, when they got the sinewa and hide of the deer, they used them, properly dressed for the purpose. Hector also made a cro^-bow, which he used vr'ith. 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 Catha- rine was a tolerable archeress with the long bow, 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 seasoij of the year ; many of the old ones that pasa over in their migratory flight in the spring, stay tc breed, «^r return thither for acorns and berries that are to be found in great abundance. Squirrels, too, are very plentiful at this season. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 123 Hector and Louis rcmaikcd that the red nnd black squirrels never were to be found very near each otlier. It is a common belief, tha't the red squirrels make common cause with the grey and beat tlie larg'cr enemy oil* 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."''^' Deer, at the time our young Crusoes were living on the llice I^nko 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 countrj^; 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 * Within the hist three years, hov/ever, the Wack squirrela have been very numerous, and the red are less frequently to be Been. Tlio flesh of the black squirrel is tendet, whit'^, and dolir oate, like that of a young rabbit. ii i ] \ \ 124 THE CAXADTAX CRUSOES. fecdinor, acconlinur to tlio iiltcratioii and ini« proveinent in their circumstances. While our young people seldom wanted for moat, they felt the privation of the bi'cad to which they had been accustomed very sensibly. One (hiy, while Hector and Louis were busily engaged with their assistant, AYolfe, in unearth- ing a woodchuek, that liad taken refuge in his burrow, on one of the gravelly hills above the hike, Catharine amused herself by looking for flowers. She had filled her lap with ripe May- apples,* but iinding them cumbersome in climb- ing 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 per- ceived some pretty grassy-looking plants, with heads of bright lilac flowers, and on plucking some pulled up the root also. The root was * PodlujUurrh peltatvm, — May-apple, or MancIralvC. Tlio fruit of tlie May-apiilc, iji rich, moist soil, will attain to tho sizo of the ma.Lrnuju boniim, or etrg-plnm which it resembles in colour and shape. It makes a ilelicious preserve, if seasoned with cloves or {.dinger ; 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 im- bedded alone should be eaten. The root of the Podophyllum is 1193. 1 as a cathartic by the Indians. The root ol' this plant is retimilated, and when a large body of them are unccvercd, they present a singular appearance, interlacing each other in large meshes, like an extensive network; these roots are white, Bs thick as a man's little finger, and fragrant, and spread hori- zontally along the surface. The blossom is like asmnJl white ro»^ TIIK CANADIAN' CllL'SOKS. 125 about the si/.ij find shape; uC ii large crocus, and, on biting it, she louiid it I'ar from disagreeable, Bweet, and KJiglitly astringent; it seemed to be a favourite root with the wi^odchucks, for she noticed that it i;rew about their bui'rows on dry, gravelly soil, and many of the stems were bitten, and the roots eaten — a wai'rant in full of whoJesomcness. Therefore, cai'rving home a parcel of the largest of the roots, she roasted them in the embers, {ind they })roved almost as good as chestnuts, and more satisfying than the acorns of the white oak, which they had often roasted in the fire, when thc}^ 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 larircr and more valuable root, near the lake shore. He saw a fine climbing shrub, with close bunches of dark reddish-purple pea-shaped flowers, wdiich 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 ti'ied to pul' one up, that he might show it to his cousin, when the root dis})]ayed a nuniber of large tubers, as big as good-sized [potatoes, regular oval-sha[)ed ; the inside was quite white, tasting 11* 3 9kM ( »■ *'m 12(3 Till!: CANADIAN CUUSOKS. BoinowliJit like a potato, (,>nly plrasaiiter, wlicn in it.s raw state, than an uncooked potato. liouis gatlici'L'd his pockets full, and hastened lu)ine with his j)i'i/i^, and, on beini,' roast(Ml, these new roots were ducided to be little interior to ])ota- toes; at all ev(jiits, they were a valuable addition to their slender stores, and they procured as many as they could lind, carefully storing them in a hole, which they dug for that pur[)ose in a corner of their hut." Hector suggested that these roots wonld 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 fi'om observation and experience that at the flowering season the greater part of the nourishment derived from the soil goes to perfect the flower and t'i? seeds. Upon scra[)ing the cut tuber, there was a white floury powder produced, resembling the. starchy substance of the po- tato. " This flour," said Catharine, " would make good porridge with milk." " Excellent, no doubt, mv wise little cook and housekeeper," said Louis, laughing ; " but rr 111 la * riiis ])I;iiit appears to mc to 1)0 a species of tlio Psoralea isculentit^ or Indian bread-root, wiiioli it resembles in description, exoeptini,' that tlie root of tln^ alx)vo is tiilieroii.*, oval, and con- not-'tcd by loui,' tilanicnts. The largest tubers are farthest from the siein of I he plant. THE CANADIA.N ClSl .:S. 127 ma bollo cousinu, wlioro is tlio /ilk, nuJ vvliere is the |K)rriil,^tj-})i>t to conic IVoin'r"' ".Indccil," said Catharine, "I fear, Louis, we must wait hjng lor both." One iine dav, Louis returned liomc from the lake sliore in ureat haste, Ibr tlie bows and arrows, with the interesting news that a herd of live de(3r were in the watei', and making for Long Lshuid. "But, Louis, they will be gone out of sight and beyond tlie reach of the arrows," said Catharine, as she handed him down the bows and a sheaf of arrows, whieli she quickly slung round his shoulders by the belt of skin, which the 3'oung hunter had made for himself. " No fear, ma chere ; 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, wdiile Wolfe, who evidently understood that they had some sport in view, trotted along by his mis- tress, wagging his great bushy tail, and looking in higli good humour. Hector was im):)atiently waiting the arrival o' the bows and Wolfe. The herd of deer, con C5 t ! 128 TIIK (ANA I MAN CKISOKS. Bistiii'j; of .'( iK)bK; l)iick, two riril-!j:r()\vii fiuiinlcs, siiid two vouii^ half-grown males, were quiotly feiMlin.L^ uiiioii^ the beds of ricu (ind rushes, not more iluni liftecii or twenty yards I'l jni tlio »sliore, apparently (luite unconcerned at the pres- ence of Hector, who stood on a fallen trunk eagerly eyeing their motions ; but the hurried steps of Louis and Cathariiu.*, witli the deep soiK^rous baying of Wolfe, soon roused the timid creatures to a sense of ihin<'er, and the staiz-, raising his head and making, as the children thought, a signal for I'etreat, now struck boldly out for the nearest point of Long Ishmd. " We shall lose them," cried Louis, despair- ingly, 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 ellbrt to gain the advantage by a cir- cuitous route. Twice the stag turned irresolute, as if to face his foe, and Wolfe, taki^ig the time, swam ahead, and then the race began. As soon as the bovs saw the herd had turned, and that 'MIK CANADIAN ClilSoKS. 129 Wolfe WMs between tlij rine; "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 Kice Jjake, 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 ;jame to the Springs." " They came, you know, for food, or shelter, or something that they wanted from us; but THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 139 it may be (liflcrcnt wlieii they find us alone and unprotected, encroaching upon their hunting- grounds." " 'I'he place is wide enough for us and them ; we will try and make them our friends." "Tlie 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 (ate that had thus severed them from ev?^ry kin- dred tie, and shut them out from that home to lb m 140 THE C A XA J M N" CVJ 'SO KS. wliich their yonni^ '\fiaruv wore bound by eveiy endearing remembrance Iroi.i infancy u[)wards. One bri.^lit September morning, our young people set off on an e\[)lor'nt5 expeditio/i, leav- ing the faithful Wolfe to watoh the wig'-vam, fi)r they well knew he was too b(/nest to toach 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* alonoj 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 progi'css of the traveller on the low shores of the lake^ they followed the course of an ascending narrow ridge, which formed a sort rf natural causevva} between two parallel hollows, the top of this ridge being, in many place?'., not wider than a cart or waggon could paiis along. The sides were most gracefully ad^ined with flowering shrubs, wild vines, creepers of various species, wild cherries of several kinds, hawthorns, bil- berry bushes, high-bush (;ranberrics, silver birch, poplars, oaks, and pines ; while in the deep ra- * Now the fertile farm of Joe Plarris, a Yanker settler, whose plensant meadows and fields of grain form a pretty feature from the lake. It is one of the oldest c\'aiir.gs on the shore, and speaks well for the persevering ind itry of the settler and hia family. J evpiy wiirds. young 71, k'.iv- '"am, fi)r ch their and too 4 Id cat ravines, e shore, iding it le thick [^I'CSS of :e^ they narrow Lisevva} of this than a sides waring pecies, QS, bil- birch, eep ra- pr, whose lure from [ore, unci and hia THE CANADIAN Cia'SOKS. 141 vines on either side %\\'\\ ti'ecs of the JJir;^ost growtli, the heads of wliieh hiy on a level with their path. Wild eliily baidvs, beset with huge boulders of red and ^'•I'ey liraiute and water-worn Uniestone. showed that it had once formed the boundary of the hike, though now it was almost a quarter of a mile in its rear. Springs of })ure water were in abundtmee, trieklinii" (k>wn the steep rugged sides of this wooded glen. Tin? children wandered onwards, deliuhted with the wild pieturescpie })ath they had chosen, some- times 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 curi- osity and interest on the lonely but lovely land- scape 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 mar- velled 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 un- known shore to the northward being her fa- ther's beloved Highlands. Let not the j^outh- ful and more learned reader smile at the igno- rance oi' the Canadian girl ; she knew nothing of maps, and globes, and hemis[)her ;s, — her only n ii 112 TIIK CANADIAN CllL'SoKS. bookofstudy had bcvn tlu3 Holy S(.'ripturo.s, her only t(\'i(!lK'r Ji poor Highland soldier. Followint^ the elev»itod <'round above this deej) valley, the travellers at last halted on the extreme edge of a high and preeipitous mound, that formed an abrupt termination to the deep glen, ^rhey found water not far from this spot lit for (b"iid\ing, by following a deer-path a littlo 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 s[)ot 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 tliey 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 re- tracing their path than they had formerly, aa 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 the\^ came TIIK CANADIAN CKL.SOKS, 113 by. A few days alter this, Uioy roinovcnl all their hoiiSL'hoKl storcrf, viz., the a\o, the tin-pot, bows and arrows, baskets, and ba.ujs of dried fruit, the dried venison and lish, and the doer' skin ; nor did they forget tlic decr-sealp, whieh tlie} bore away as a trophy, to be fastened up over the door of their new dwell inu:, for a mo* luorial of tlieir first hunt on the sliores of the Kice Lake. The skin was given to Cutluirine to sleej) 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 iiousekeeping in good earnest and they should be warm and well lodged before the bitter frosts oi winter could come to chill their blood. It was a joj^ful day when the log walls of the little snarity were put up, and the door hewed out. Windows they had none, so they did not cut out the spaces for them ;* they could do very well without, as hundreds of Irish * Many a slianty is ;'ft up in Caiuida without windows, and only an open space for a door, witli a rude plank .set up to do»e it \u at night. ir -(:■ •^ mt 144 THK CANADIAN CRL'SOES. and llighUiiid umigrants have done before and »ince. A ])ile of st(Mies rudely cemented together Avith 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 cUiy : the trees, being chiefly oaks and pines, afforded no moss. This defi- ciency rather surprised the boys, for in the thick forest and close cedar swamps, moss grows in abundance on tlie north side of the trees, espe- cially 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 wos thus far habitable, they were all Yery happy. AVhile the boys had been putting on the roof, Catharine had collected the stones for the chimnev, and cleared the earthen floor of the chips and rubbish with a broom of cedar bouijjhs, bound together with a leathern thono^. 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 upon their own hearth 1 THK CANADIAN CHUSOES. 145 )re and Qfrether 5, and a ley and ; chinks f wood, r chiefly [lis deii- he thick ;rows in les, espe- Lnd iron- XLcepting in front n, which he little ,vere all putting stones m floor )f cedar thong. Iraoving ter with ileasant isecmly Tlieerful uearth 1 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 bas- kets ; there a set of sto';t pegs were to be insert- ed between the logs for hanging up strings of dried meat, ba^s of birch-bark, or the skins of the animals they were to shoot or trap. A table was to be fixed on })osts 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 b^(lsteads were rough poles of iron-wood, su})ported by posts driven into the ground, and })artly upheld by the projection of the loiis at the anj'les of the wall. Nothinoj could be more simple. The framework was of split ' cedai"; and a safe bt^d. was made by pine boughs being first laid upon tlie frame, and then thickly coevred witli 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 v/as being prepared for their reception ; and many a gentleman's son has voluntarily submitted to privations as great 13 3 II' 146 THE CANADIAN CRl'SOES. 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 ar: formed into rafts, and floated down the w till they reach the great St. Lawrence, aau are, after innumerable difficulties and casualties, finally shipped for England. I have likewise known European gentlemen voluntarily leave the com- forts of a civilized home, and associate them- selves 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 sensibl}'' 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 pro- THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 147 inture, ion of orking I ruder the jn » ig and nselves ng the treams, ing the f trees, Iragged ed into 11 they after finally known le com- them- [unters, as the ilready ;ws at ill the it heat thing )r the m pro- ductive of ague and fever. Every hour almost they spent in making little additions to their household comforts, but some time was neces- earily 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 mean time. They had now plenty of fresh broiled meat, and this store was very acceptable, as they were obliged to be ver}'- 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, wrap- ping 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 «S^a stfc! J. r 148 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. emptied itself into the lake.* 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 addi* tion 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 lay- ing 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 * Tliis little strcivm flows through the green meadows of *'Gleiilyiulon," wutcrin;; the grounds of Mr. Alfred Hay ward, whoso iiiciuresque cottage forms a most attractive object to the eye of the iravcil'^'* THE CAXADIAX CRUS0E3. 14^ thii skins of the small animals into some soit of jacket, and the doe-skin and deer-skin could be made into gjirments for the boys. Louis was always supplying and rubbing the skins to make them soft. They had taken oft' the hair by sprinkling it with wooti 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 pass- ing the sinews of the deer through, as he had Been his tVither 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, BO that he was enabled, with a little trouble, to drill a hole in a bone needle, for his cousin Cath- arine's use. After several attempts, he succeeded in making some of tolerable fineness, hardening them by ex})Osure 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 curieus piece of fur patch- work 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 Qot a little proud of her ingenuity and industry 13* i '-■{JO I 150 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 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 dead-falls, was in due time converted into a dashing cap, the brush remain- ing 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 Louie. 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 ar- ticles 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 en.v ployed themselves with carving wooden platters : knives, and forks, and spoons they fashioned out of the larger bones of the deer, which they of- ten found bleaching in the sun and wind, where THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 151 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 nut- megs. Tliis 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 pot- ters 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 1f J. 152 TIIK CAXADTAX CRUSOES. i removed when it was sufTiciontly liojitcd, and the meat or roots placed within, the oven being covered over with a flat stone previously heated before the lire, and covered with live coals. This sort of oven had often been described by old Jacob, as one in connnon use among scurie of the Indian tribes in the lower province, in which they cook small animals, and make ex- cellent meat of them; they could bake bread also in this oven, if they had had flour to use.* Since the finishing of the house and furnish- ing 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 becorains^ each day more cheerful and more active. Ardently attached to each other, they seemed bound to each other by a yet more * This primitive oven is much like what voynofera have described as in use among the natives of many of the Soutt fiea ialauds. THE CAXADTAX CRUSOES. 15r? ;d, and being heated coals. }ed hy f some nee, in ike ex- bread ) use.* arnish- on oiled lecided They arents, 11 were their spent were lut the leeting every they ll and |other, more Is have Soutt eacrcd tie of brotherhood. They were no v all the world to one another, and no cloud of dis- union came to mar their ha|)])iness. Hectors habitual .i^ravity and caution were tem{)ered by Louis's lively vivacity and ardour of temper, and they both loved Catharine, and strove to smooth, as much as [)ossible, the hard life :o which she was exposed, by the most alfi'Ctionate consideration for her comfort ; and she in return endeavoured to repay them by cheerfully enihi- ring all privations, and making light of all their trials, and taking a lively interest in all theii 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 talk- ing of adventuring over to the nearest island to explore it, and see what game, and roots, and fruits it afiorded. Bidding Catharine stay quietly within doors till his return, Hector ran off, not without some misgivings of evil having befallen his rasb lifW ' n i 150 THE CAXADTAX CHUSOES. ■I'll lilv'o catanioiiiits, so keen and wild — tliey seo every tliin;^ without scorning to cast a glance on it. Well, I saw tliein wind up the ridge till they reached the l^arc-hiU.* You remember that spot ; we called it so from its barren ap- pearance. In a lew minutes a column of smoke rose and curled among the pine-trees, and then another and another, till I counted five fires burnini^ briufhtly; and, as I stood on the hii'h 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 theni 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 oif, 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 * Supposed to bo ii council hill. It is known by tlie naino of Bare-hill, from the ainiruhir want of verdure on its surface. It is one of the steepest on the ridge above the little creek; beiusr a picturesque ol)jeot, with its flue pine-trees, seen from Mr. Iluywurd's grounds, and forms, ] believe, a part of his property. It THE CANADIAN CMU'rfOKS. 1j7 that ihoy wore still safe from the sciilpitig-knives of his Indian enemies. " And now, llee, what is to be done? Wo 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 planfj 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." " Wliy," said lleetor, laughing, " it depends upon the stoek of practical wisdom in the heads, for two fools, you know, Louis, v/ill 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 dwell inur ; 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 Indian^: know 14 !l«**"^ •••/U '.•""f*: *^ 1 U^J^ 158 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ;i"it 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 Kace- course,') and it is not far from here, only ten minutes' walk in a straight line. We can con- ceal 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 them- selves with hiding under the broken branches oi 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 pas- sage from the lake to their feeding-place, or favourite covert, on the low sheltered plain; fr( Wf e of al] IS, and with a irect to i giveu r Kace- ily ten m con- bat we several its and are so •anches at hide y ever most them- mches Id not est to oaded who, along le bv pas- le, or lain ; THE CANADIAN CUUSOES. 159 where, being quite open, and almost, in parts, free from trees, the grass and herbage were Bweeter 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 ^slW no living thing, excepting a fl\mily of chitminka gayly 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,* 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 Qowery 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- cove/ed heights faded away into mist, and blended with the horizon. To the east, a deep and fertile valley lay between the high lands, * Also partridge-borry and checko berry, a lovely creeping win«^«r-green, with white fragrant flowers, and double scarlet berry. ■i*****!^ m* m -:;3 'Ml' -.umJI ''■«, . 9 160 THE CANADIAN CRUSuKS. :i"ij m I .?^ Oil which thev rested, and the far ridj^e of oak hills. From their vantage height, they could distinguish the outline of the Bare-hill, made more distinct by its flickering fires and tho smoke wreaths that hung like a pearly-tinted robe aniong the dark pines that grew upon its crest. Not long tarrying did our fugitives make, though perfectl}^ 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 ap- proach of the Indians, not difficult, while- hiding- places were easy of access. They found a deep^ sheltered hollow in the ba .k, where two mighty pines had been torn up by the roots, and pros- trated headlong down the steep, forming a regu- lar cave, roofed by the earth and fibres that had been uplifted in their fall. Pendent from these roots hung a luxuriant curtain of wild grape* of oak ^ could , made nd tho ^■tinted ipoii its igitives Aon by r many ^ht lay reason, ed the vers of hasty )w of a above Here, were ey had he ap- lidiiig- deep> lighty pros- regu- it had these ;rape- THE CAN A [)T AX CRUSOES. 161 vines and other creepers, which formed a leafy Bcreen, through which the most curious eye cou]d scarcely penetrate. This friendly vege- table veil seemed as if provided for their con- cealment, and they carefully abstained from disturbing the pendent foliage, lest they should, by so doing, betray their hiding-place to their enemies. Tliey found })lenty 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 evenirlg prayers, they laid down to sleep, Catha- rine'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 bis 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 thev fell asleep in spite of their fears. In the morning, 14* !«»» xmH •I. 162 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. Wtf' m it seemed as if they had dreamed some terrible dream, so vague were their recolleetions of the fright they had had, but the cause was soon perceived. A large stone that had been heaved up witli 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 re- moved 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. DO THE CANADIAN CUUSUKS. 163 terrible ; of tbe IS soon heaved >ots and 1 on the ine lay. t struck Lence of i it with egarded otection y. The ally re- oof, and a stout before th this CHAPTER V. "The soul of the wicked desireth e%-il ; his neiglibour findeth DO fiivour in liis sight." — Pivoerhn. FOR several days they abstained from light- ing 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 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 thej 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 no- ticed 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 aight and carried them off, for in the morning 4"^ i : a ) *• 164 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. they were gone. They saw several herd of deer crossing the [)laiii, and one day 'Wolfe tracked a wounded doe to a covert under the poplars, near a l^idden 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 thnt 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 appro- priating it for their own use. Not having seen any thing 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 remain- ing 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 thi'", 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 child- THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 165 hood, and but a few miles of fore.st intervened to hide it from their sight. Had he known it, how eagerly would his feet have pressed on- ward 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 briers. We cannot see our way clear; doubts and ap})rehensions assail us. We know not how near we are to the fulfilment of our wishes ; we see only the insurmountable bar- riers, the dark thickets and thorns of our way ; and we know not how near we are to our Fa- ther's home, where ile 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. " Afler 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 ho J lit ■11. Km*'"'' -«(.(i ""■■■■"^ > r i66 THE CANADIAN CIU;S(>F':S. ti; ili'ii ;ii i" 1 111: ■'r ■«l found us on his hunting-grounds.* I hnve 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 anger- ed, 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 BO, for one who was naturally rash and head- strong, but unfortunately Hector wajs inflexible and wilful : when once he had made up his mind upon any point, he had too good an opin- ion of his own judgment to give it up. At last, he declared his intention, rather than reni.tin a slave to such cowardly fears as he now deemed them, to go forth boldly, and endeavcyur to as- certain what the Indians were abouf^ how many there were of them, and what real Linger was to be apprehended iVom facing ther .. * George Copwiiy, an inlelllgent Kice Lakf Indian, says the Indian hunting-grounds are parcelled out, anJ seenred by right of law and custom among themselves, no on< being allowed to hunt upon another's grounds uninvited. If .ny one belonging to another fiimily or tribe is found trespas .ng, all his goods are taken from him ; a handful of powder ar i shot, as mach as he would need to shoot game for his sustt lance in returning Btraight home, and his gun, knife, and torn kawk only aie left, but all his game and furs are taken from nim ; a message is Bent to his chief, and if lie transgresses a tiTrd time, he is ban- »«hed and outlawed. — Life of G, Copway^ wrif,t€v hy himself . iiel Hp| usi THE CANADIAN' ( RUSOES. 167 ^e heard at deal ire very lev find "They I anger- hem in chance nmonly d head- flexible lip his ,n opin- A.t last, nuiin a Iv^emed to as- many er was says the by riffht owed to longing s goods mach as turning me left, ssage is is ban- v/- •*' Depend upon it," he uaded, " cowards are never safer than brave men. The Indians de- spise 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 opeidy faced them and showed that we neither feared llien., nor cared foi* thinn." "Hector, dear Hector, be not so rash!" cried his sister, passionately weej)ing. "Ah! if we were to lose you, what would become of us?" " Never fear, Kate ; I will run into no need- less 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 r am no scout, but a friend in need of nothing but kindness and friendship. I never yet heard of the Iniliun that would tomahawk the defence- less stranger that sought his camp openly in peace and good-will." Ill* ky i i** t V. ».'♦>'.» M ^ :« 168 TlIK CANADIAN CKISOKS. "mi lli'i) mi, *' ff yoii do not return by sunset, Hector, we shall believe that you have fallen into the hands of the savages," said Catharine, mournfully re- garding her brother. " If it were not for Catharine," said Louis, **you should not go alone ; but if evil befell this hel|)less one, her blood would be upon my head, who led her out with us, tempting her with fal )rds se woi *' Never mind that now, dearest ceusin," 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 ha})p} again if I had lost both Ilec and you. It is better as it is ; you and Ilec 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 ch^rc ; 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 dan- ger, 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 ;;nd Catharine be- came more reconciled to his leaving them, and goon busied themselves in preparing some squir- rels that Louis had brought in that morning. The day wore away slowly, and many were t) tor, we ! hands ully re- Louis, fell this y head, :r with n," said lis arm. 3een all happ} , It is t have you to songs reason ;ousin, 10 dan- 11 be so Ireturn |ne be- I, and I squir- ing. were TlIK CANADIAN CIU'SOKS. 169 the anxious ghuK.'cs tliiit ( 'atlKirine cast ov(3r the crest of the high l)aiik to wateh for her brother's return ; at last, unable to endure the sus[)ense, she with Louis left the shelter of the valley; they ascended the high gi-ound, and bent their steps to the trysting tree, which coninianded all the countr}^ 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 loot of the pine, which cast its lengthened shadow upon the ijfround before them. The shades of evenin": 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 haj)py days of childhood, of the perplexing present, and the uncertain fu- ture. 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 surround- ing 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 irritabilitj 15 m » M' I t^Q n rilK CANADIAN ClU'SoKS. '*■» II. M'fH (lint bo liPMrd tli(^ qnick, sliarp note of tlie wiikcfiil " whip-poor-will," as she flew from boufrh to bouirh of an old withered tree beside 1 nrn. AnotluT, and aixain another o ►f tl leso ini(bii^ht watchers took up the monotonous iiever-varving cry of " Whif)-poor-will, whip- poor-will;" and then came forth, from many a hollow oak and birch, the spectral ni^udithawk from hidden dens, where it had lain hushed in silence all day, from dawn till sunset. Sometitnes 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 sud- denly descended to pounce with wide-extended throat upon some hapless moth or insect, that sported all unheeding in mid air, happily uncon- scious of the approach of so unerring a foe. Petulantly Louis chid these discordant min- strels 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 l&y in happy forgetfulness of all her sorrows, her fair curls spread in unbound luxuriance over the dark, shaofGrv neck of the TIIK CANADIAN CIU'SOKS. 171 of the ' from beside tlu\so toiic^us whip- naiiy i\ ithawk hed in lotitncs check, circles, ing, till 3e-tops, of the shrill y sud- ciuled t, that luncon- e. min- d the id full 1. scions of all ound f the faithful Wolfe, who seetned as if proud (»f tho beloved bnrdiMi that rested so trustingly upon him. Sometimes the careful dog just unclosed his large eyes, raised his nose fi-o!n his shaggy paws, snudetl the night air, growled in a sort of under tone, and dcjsed again, but wati'hfully. It would be no o'd:^y tas]«: to tell the painful feelings that agitated young Louis's breast. lie was angry with Hector (()r 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 tlien 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. Suddeidy 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 aa 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 elegLmt fringed gentian, with open bells of azuru '3i 3 I 5 « * 172 TIIH CAXADIAX CUl'SOES. iiii *ll 1)1,: IE ^'•■ t,tf blue, the last and loveliest of the fall flovveis and winter-gTeens, brighten the ground with wreaths of shilling leaves and red berries. Louis is on the alert, thouGfh as vet he sees nothing. It is not a full, free note of welcome that Wolfe gives ; there is something uneasy and half angry in liis tone. Yet it is not fierce, like the bark of angiy 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 tlie foreground. The slow tread of approach- ing 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 tho shrinking figure of an Indian girl, apparently about the ?ame 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 THE CAXADTAX CHUSOES. 17S adow ear. ured d in ^ange The tho ently face jlack her and with eary. Help me, Louis, to lead this ])0or girl to the foot of tlie pine; I am so tired I can hanily walk another step." Louis and his cousin together carried the Indian girl to the foot of the pine. CathariiK.* was just rousing hei'self from sleep, and sh(3 gazed with a bewildered air on the stranu>; 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 an^l dread in the heart of ihe gentle Catharine, and she watched the young stranger's slumber as tenderly a-s 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-^Iiaw/ 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 niouth 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 15* I 174 TUV: CANADIAN CRUSOES. Ui< < llC'hIII 1i> Bailing in wide circles over tlie tall pine-trees on Btire-liill. Assured that tlie Indian camp was bi'oken uj), and feeling some curiosity to examine the spot more closely, I crossed tlic thicket of cranberries and cedars and smnll underwood that fringed the borders of the little stream, and found myself, after a little pushin;.^ and scrambling, among the bushes at the foot of the hill. "1 thought it not impossible I might find something to repay me for my trouble — flint arrow-heads, a knife, or a tomahawk — but 1 little thought of what these cruel savages had left there, — a miserable wounded captiv^ 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 fiendish cruelty, had placed within sight of their victim an earthen jar of water, some dried deer's flesh, and a cob"^ of Indian corn. I ha^^e the corn here," he added, putting his hand in his breast, and displaying it to view. ♦^ A head of the Maize, or ludiau corn, is called a "oob. » THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. "1 ^^ " ;ft to m an flesh, COJ'l] ' roast, "Wounded she was, for I drew tliis arrow from her shoulder," and he showed the flint head as he spoke, "and fettered; with ?(K)(\ pau\ drink in siglit, the pocjr girl was to perisli per ha})s to become a living prey to the wolf am) the eagle that I saw wheeling above the hill top. The poor thing's lij)s were black anc parched with pain and thirst; she turned he: eyes piteously from my face to the water j.ir sa if to implore a draught. This I gave her, anc then havinf!* cooled the festerinii; wound, and cu^ the thongs that bound her, I wondered that sh( still kept the same immovable attitude, an<. thinking she was stitF and cramped with re maining so long bound in one position, I too' her two hands and tried to induce her to mov . I then for the first time noticed that she y^m tied by the hair of her head to the tree agUKst 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 re- mained silent and still for the space of an hour, nor could T prevail upon her to speak, or quit the seat she had taken. Fearing that the In- dians mioht return, I watched in all directions. mil A 176 THE CAXADTAX CRUSOEP. iW'iiii,. »! "Ill ill. 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 ges- tures 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 ber as gently and soothingly as I could. By de- grees 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 DOW, and as quiet as a lamb." Catharine listened, not without tears of genuine sympathy, to the recital of her brother's adven- tures. She seemed to think he had been in- spired by God to go forth that day to the Indian camp, to rescue the poor forlorn ore from so dreadful a death. Louis's sympathy was also warmly aroused fo fo W( th( THE CANADIAN CRL'SOES. 177 be l)est ind no ^sed at or ges- to kill austed, >oke to By de- iposure a word .st, and T head, !med to t to my carried heavy |r along r steps ss, that ile she bdued lenuine idven- ten in- "ndian |om so roused for the yonng savage, and he commended Hector for his bravery and luimanity. He then S(^t to work to light a good fire, which was a great addition to their comfort as well as cheorrulness. Thev did not s:o back to their cave beneath the upturned trees, to sleep, preferring lying, with their feet to the fire, under the shade of tlie [)ine. Louis, however, was despatched fov water and venison for supper. The following morning, b\^ break of day, they collected their stores, and conveyed them back CO the shanty. 'Plic boj^s were thus employed, while Catharine watched beside the wounded Indian girl, wln^ni she tended with the greatest care. She bathed the inflamed arm with water, and bound the cool, healing leaves of the taca/nahac^ about it with the last fraiiment of her apron ; she ste(>ped di-ied berries in water, and gave the cooling diink to quench the fever- thirst that burned in hei' 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 lonojed, yet feared to sav, " W ho are vou that thus tenderly batne my aching head, and strive to sooth 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-cff * ludiaii biilsanu iiilt' \ . '^ , 1 178 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. g|.'iii!;>). 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 ?" THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 179 CHAPTER VI. " Here the wren of softest note BuikU its nest and warbles well ; Here the blackbird strains its throat ; Welcome, welcome to our cell." — Coleridge, ''pHE 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 t^e young stranger, she felt herself embarrassed in what way to make her com- prehend the words she used to express the kind- ness 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 •a •VI *#" I ) * 180 THE CANADIAN CRI'SOES. 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 davs the fever be^an 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 eves 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 THK CANADIAN CRL'SOES. 181 ?e, but, . sealed )rds of om the 3 house, ccurred ition at )r Louis ig with >effan to y in its cheek, hue of shows, iilly on o] while f her 3 and cut for r eyes smile, r own, 1 lips Lit she would 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 rathpr it might with more pro- priety have been said, the absence of all ex- pression, 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, lomr to instruct her Indian friend, to enlaroje 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 wheli 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 lame to her all the natural objects that pre ented themselves to view. And she in her turij 16 1 1 1'i « 182 THK CANADIAN CKUSOKS. ■Nil. ,! . 9'rm •mi. .. > !,■■■■ I - nijule " IncliaiKi" (for so they luinieJ the young Bquavv, after a iiegress tliat sh(3 bad hcai'd her father tell of, a nurse to one of his ct)lonel's in- fant children) tell her the Indian names for each object they saw. Indiana soon began to enjoy in her turn the amusement arising from instructing Cathariue and the boys, and often seemed to enjoy the blunders they made in pro- nouncing the words she taught them. When really interested in any thing that was going on, her eyes would beam out, and her smile give 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 anv 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 deter- mination neither to move nor speak characterized 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 Ijer protegee or approach her. " Hector," said Louis, " you spoke about a jai of water being left at the camp; the jar would THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. 183 be a great treasure to us, let us go over for it " Uector assented to tlie 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 pro- duces a strong plant, we shall have a great in- crease, and besides seed for another year, there will be, if it is a good year, several bushels to eat. n " We shall have a glorious summer, mon ami, no doubt, and a fine flourishing crop, and Kate is a good hand at making supporne."* " 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 vivacious brain, was quite on the qui vlve^ and walked and danced along at a * Supporne, probably an Indian word for a stirabout, or porridge, made of Indian meal, a common dish in every Conft- dlan or Yankee turunr's house. « "^ .,>-,- ■ ''■ .1 *'1 ■J ] IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1:^128 |2.5 Ui 1^ |2.2 140 12.0 |i.25 |U ||,.6 < 6" ► Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. M5S0 (716) S72-4503 o 1^ ^\ 184 THK CANADIAN CKUSOES. t ■ *' P'tk .if f ■* I'. J rate vliii-li })r()V(Ml a turii(Ml loi- it; but Louis was not one of the douhling sort, and liOtiis was right in not damping the ardour of his mind by causeless leai's The jar was there at the de- serted camp, and though it had l)een 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 uidike any sort of pottery they had ever before seen. It seemed to have been manufactured from some vary dark red earth, or clay mixed up with pounded granite, as it pre- sented the ap[)earance 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 in- strument. It seemed to have been hardened by fire, and, from the smoked hue of one side, had evidently done good service as a cooking uten- sil. Subsequently they learned the way in which it was used :* the jar being placed near ♦ Pieces of this rude pottery are often found along the slnres of the inland hikes, but I have never met with any of tho perfect Vbasels in use with the Indians, wiio probably find it now easier to supply tlietnselves with iron pots and crockeij from tlie towns of the European settlers. SI bi sJ c of tlio Evil Spirit, who might bring mischiffor loss to thcin, or sickness or death, unless his for- bearance was purciiaseJ by some particular mark of attention.* Attention, memory, and imitation appeared to form the three most remarkable of the men- tal faculties developed by the Indian girl. She examined (when once her attention was roused) any object with critical minuteness. Any knowl- edge 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 perse- verance 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 "^ ,j* I * By the testimony of many of the Indiana themselves, tlicy appear to entertain a eertain Polytheism in their belief. " W^o l)elieveil in one orreat, wise, benevolent bein?, Tlieshu-mon-e- doo, whiiso dwcllini^ was in the sun. We believed also in many othei' lesser spirits — gods of the elements, and in one bad, unap- peasable spirit, Mah-je-mah-ne-doo, to whom we attributed bad luck, evil accidents, and sickness and water. IJy ci'eepiiig aloiii^ the trunk of the tree, and trusting at times to tlu; pnjjecting boughs, l^ouis, VN ho was tlie most active and the lightest ol' weight, succeeded in getting within reach of tiio oanoe, and witii some trouble and the lu^lp of a rftOUt li •h that Hector handed to h h Dut hranen that J lector nandecl to iiim, ne ^onti'ived to moor her in salety on tiie shore, taking the precaution of hauling her well up on the shiuL^-le, lest thi; wind and water should set her afloat again. '* llec, thei'c is something in this canoe the sight of wdiich will gladden your heart," ci-ied Jjouis, with a joyi'ul look. '* Come tpiickly, and see my treasures." "Treasures! You ma v^ well call them trea- sures," exclaimed llectoi', as he helped Louis to examine the contents oC the canoe and place them on the shore, side by side. The bo3s could hardly lind words to express their joy and surprise at the discovery of a large jar oi' parched rice, a tomahawk, an Indian blanket almost as good as new, a large mat rolled U}) with a bass bark rope several yards in length wound round it, and, what was more precious than all, an iron threedegged pot in which was a quantity of Indian com. These articles had evidently constituted the stores of 17 ^ i3 \ 194 TIIK CANADIAN CKL'SOES. C some Indian liuntcr or trMi>|)(.'r; possibly cIk^ caiioo liad l)('(Mi iiiiperlcctly sociiriMl and liuU driftcMl from its moorings dinMn.i^ tho ^'alo of the previous iii^dit, iniK'ss by soinc^ awi, and bread and seed* coiQ For many years," he said ; he also higlily vahiod the tomahawk, as his axe was worn and bhmt. Louis was divided between the iron pot and the canoe. Hector seemed to thi'ik the raft, after all, might have formed a substitute foi the latter ; besides, Indiana had signified hei 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 boddices for herself and In- diana. With deer-skin le^j^o^inii^s, and a fur jacket, they should be comfortably clad. In- diana 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 ])lace 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 re- quisition as a substitute for scissors, they cut DUt the blanket dresses, and in a short time made two comfortable and not very unsightly IT* *1 ti Ml H 1 I ' e 198 TII1<: CANADIAN ClU'SOES. WiA^: garmenfe : the full, sliort, phiitcd skirts readied H little below the knee ; liizht vests bordered with fur completed the upper part, and leggings, terminated at the ankles by knotted fringes of tlie doe-skin, with mocassins turned over with a band of squirrel fur, completed the novel but not very iuibecoini'>g costume ; and many a glance of innocent s.-itisfUction did our young damsels cast U])on each other when they walked forth in the pride of girlish vanity to display their di'esses 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 im- plements 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 con- trasted very delightfully with the deep blue waters — looking, when lighted up by the sun- beams, like islands of golden-coloured sand. The ears, heavy laden with the ripe grain, drooped towarch" tlie water. The time of the riee-l';irvest was al hand, and with light and joyous hearts our young adventurers -launched the canoe, and, gu'dea in their movements by ihe little squaw, paddlea to the extensive aquatic fields to gathe.^ v >u^ ifj^»'ix^^ Oatixarine Till-: (AN AD IAN ClU'SOKS. 199 and Wolfe to vviitcli 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 comfort- ably. 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 be 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 tt'inter that was coming on. The canoe was a source of great comfort and 1 i i 1 n 4 200 THE CAXADTAX CRUSOES. Kii'ri PI k I. pleasure to thcrn ; they were now able to paddle out into the deep water, and fisli for masquinonjl^ and black bass, which thev cauujhtin fjfreat nuhi- bars. 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, s})arkled with delight, and her teeth gleamed with ivory whiteness as her face oroke 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 htr skill in all these things, and Indiana rose highly in his estimation the more he saw ')f her u^o- fulness. " 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 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 201 [) paddlft qiiinonj^ eat 11 u hi- re, whea nng, she it flying often so ight, and IS as her child of ihe could ' healthy s of the Danions had yet lat the nent of arrows, or his of htr highly ler u^o- ighing; in the 'Dm 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 any thing of God or our Saviour," said Hector, thoughtfully. "Who should have tausrhther? for the In- dians are all heathens," replied Louis. " I have heard my dear motlier say, the mis- sionaries have taken great pains to teach the In- dian 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 lan- guage yet, that of course she cannot com- prehend 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 un- taught pagan," said Louis, who, being rather 1i *•-: I i ] 202 THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. iu«. pr.n in./ I bigoted ill liis creed, felt a sort of uneasiness in his own mind at the poor girl's total want of the rites of his churcli; but Hector and Catharine regarded her ignorance with feelings of compas- sionate interest, and lost no opportunity that oftered 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 Ilim whose Spirit poured the beams of spiritual light into her heart: but my young readers must not, ima- gine 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 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 humiHty 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 CANADIAN CJU'SOKS. 2U3 tlio pagan rites whi(;li that young girl had wit- nessed among her father's people, who, bhndly following the natural inn)ulse 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 ai which ti'.e 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 tliinly, 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 houghs, 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 mil I cause it to bear upwards with more power; liio I'ice being frequently stirred with a sort of I'lng-handled flat shovel. After the rice was sufficiently dried, the next thing to be done was separating it from the husk, and this was effectecl ) !| ■1 'I 1 a 204 THE CAXADIAN CRUSOES. itii*i. r I;' by putting it by small quantities into the iron j)ot, and with a sort of wooden pestle or beetle, rubbing it round and round against the sides.* 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 wing- ing their way across it from morning till night, floating in vast flocks upon its surface, or rising in noisy groups if an eagle or fishhawk 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 * The Indians often make use of a very rude, primitive sort of mortar, by hollovvinfif out a bass-wood stump, and rubbing tlie rice with a wooden pounder. ■■li to tlie iron e or beetle, the sides.* )(lcn trough ad. ;e chaff was ike a sieve, 'ch baskets, rk, or bags ittle squaw Iso parched, .he rice dry hot embers, I was then ed is eaten Indians. wild fowl were win<2j- till night. e, or rising appeared )ove them, upon the covered len acorns ry passing mrnitive sort and rubbing THE CANADIAN CKUSOKS. 205 breeze ; the berries of the dogwood also furnish* ed them with food ; but the wild rice seemed the great attraction, and small shcll-fish, and the larvue 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." ♦ * Mrs. Southey. IS ""5 ■is* ■J i I i J 206 THE CANADIAN CRUS0E3. CHAPTER YIII. Oil, coino aiul licar whnt cruel wronjra Befell the Dark Lmlvc." — (.'olkkidoe. ^n npiIE Mohawk girl was in high spirits at the ^ coming of the wihl fowl to the Lake; she would clap her hands and langh with almost childish gloe 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 Ilcctor 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 \vay; 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 mo- tioned Hector to crouch down, leaving a small Fpace 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 tho waters. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 207 rits at the lake; slio ith almost darken incT face. =? good old ! eyed the upon the shy, that ch them." she was hs, which form the a floating r she mo- g a small concealed r paddled rice-beds, rocking )n of tho The unsuspecting birds, deceived into full Bccurity, eagerly pursued their pastime or their prey, and it was no dilUcult matter for the hid- den archer to hit many a black duck or teal or whistlewiuG^, as it Hoatcvl scx'urcly on the placid water, or rose to shift its place a few 3\ards up or down the stream. Soon the lake around was strewed with the feathered game, which Wolfe, cheered on by Louis, who was stationed on the shore, brought to land. Indiana told Hector that this was the season when the Indians made great gatherings on tho 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 diso^uised with boui^hs, 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 wsport and partake of the spoils. Indiana could not understand why lle/itor •'•v.,. n 1 i « ] 208 THE CANADIAN' CUUSOKS. m ir IT I i il;l did not fullow tlie custom of her Indian futhera, and oflcr the first duck or tlic best iLsli to ]>ri>- j)itiatc the Groat Spirit. Hector told her that tlie (jod he worshipped desired no sacrifice ; that liis holy Son, when he came down from heaven and gave himself as a sacrifice for the sins of tlie world, had satisfied his Father, the Great Spirit, an hundred-fold. They feasted now continually upon the water- fowl, 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 con- sumption, and tliese they dried for winter store, smoking some after the manner that the Shet- landers and Orkney peoj)le 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 hold- ing 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 k TlIK CANADIAN CIll'SoES. 209 ,11 fillliera, h to ]>n>- licr that fioc ; that rn hciiveii le sins of the Great he water- iana how athers for •namental but light my of the sent con- iter store, he Shet- le solan ibundant besides fruit. brow of 3astward by hold- ^ers, that had met harvest. that no ut said ') they would not l-uve the lakr tor liuatiuL^ over the plains just then, as the eainp way lower down on the point* east of the mouth ol' a I i<^^ river, which she eullcd " Otonabce." llt.'ctor asked Indiana if sh»' wouhl go away and leave them, in the event of n/^^jeting with any of her own tribe. The girl east her eyes on the eai'th in sil;'net' ; a dark cloud seemed to gather over her face. ^^ li' tliey should ])rove to be any of your fathei''s pe()})le, or a Irieudly tribe, would you go away with them?" he again repeated, to which she solenmly rej)lied, "Indiana has no father, no tribe, no people; no blood oi' her father's warms the heart of any man, woman, or child, saving myself alone; but Indiana is a brave, and tiie 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 he-r heart. Then lifting up lier hand, she said with slow but impassioned tone, " They left not one drop of living blood to (low in any veins but these," and her eyes were raised, and her arms stretched upwards towards * This point, commonly known as Andersfm' s Point, now the *eiit of the Indian villafre, used in former times to b>e a great place of rendezvous for the Indians, and was the site of a mur- deroiis carnai^e or massacre that took place about eiglity yearn ago ; the war- weapons and bones of the Indians are of^en turned ^ip with the plongii at this day. 18* ^ ^ ^ 't I ;i 1 q a \ 4 r 210 THE CAXAPTAX CfU'SOES C I, '"'11: m»' heaven, as though calling clown vengeance on the murderers of her father's house. " Mj father was a Mf^hawk, the son of a great chief, who owned these hunting-grounds far as your eye can see to the rising and setting Bun, alonor the hvj: waters of tlie bio^ lakes ; but the Ojebwas, a portion of the Chippewa nation, by treachery cut off my fatlier's people by hundreds in cold blood, when they were defenceless and at rest. It was a blood}^ day and a bloody deed." Instead of hiding herself, as Hector and Loxna strongly advised the young Mohawk to do, she preferred remaining as a scout, she said, under the cover of the bushes on the edge of the steep that overlooked the lake, to watch their move- ments. She told Hector to be under no apppre- hension if the Indians came to the hut; not to attempt to conceal themselves, but offer them food to eat and water to diink. " If they come to the house and find you away, they will take your stores and burn your roof, suspecting that you are afraid to meet them openly ; bat they will not harm you if you meet them with open hand and fearless brow : if they eat of your bread, they will not harm you ; me they would kill by a cruel death — the war-knife is in their heart against the daughter of the brave." The boys thought Indiana's advice good, and ?(ince on son of a -groundg d setting ; but the ation, bv lundreds ^less and I bloody nd Louia > do, she d, under he steep move- ippprc- not to er them sy come ill take ncr that at they th open r bread, kill by ' heart od, and THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 21: khey felt no fear for themselves, only for Cath- arine, whom they counselled to remain in the shanty with Wolfe. The Indians seemed intent only on the sport which they had come to enjoy, seeming in high glee, and as far as they could see quite peaceably disposed ; every night they returned to the camp on the north side, and the bovs could see their fires gleaming among the trees on the opposite shore, and now and then in the stillness of the eveninsr their wild shouts of revelrv would come faintly to their ears, borne by the breeze over the waters of the lake. The allusion that Indiana had made to her own history, though conveyed in broken and hardly intelligible language, had awakened feel- ings of deep interest for her in the breasts of her faithful friends. Many months after this she related to her wondering auditors the fearful story of the massacre of her kindred, and which I may as well relate, as I have raised tlie curi- osity of my youthful readers, though to do so [ must render it in my own language, as the broken, half-formed sentences in which its flicts were conveyed to the ears of my Canadian Crusoes would be unintelligible to my young friends.* * The tiicts of this narrative were gatlierod from tlio lipa of Uie eldest son of a Rice Lake chief. 1 have p''cfcrroJ giv'iigf tt "*S3 H ;1 1 • I i 1 4 212 THE CANADIAN CliUSOES. Ciii |I|.""I'IM I! Hi There had been for some time a jealous feel- ing existing between the chiefs of two principal tribes of the Ojebwas and the Mohawks, which like a smothered fire had burnt in the heart of each, without having burst into a decided blaze — for each strove to compass his ends and obtain the advantage over the other by covert means. The tribe of the Mohawks of which I now speak, claimed the southern shores of the Rice Lake for their hunting-grounds, and certain islands and parts of the lake for fishing, while that of the Ojebwas considered themselves masters of the northern shores and certain rights of water besides. Possibly it was about these rights that the quarrel originated, but if so, it was not openly avowed between the " Black Snake," (that was the totem borne by the Mo- hawk chief,) and the " Bald Eagle" (the totem of the Ojebwa). These chiefs had each a son, and the Bald Eagle had also a daughter of great and rare beauty, called by her people " The Beam of the Morning;" she was the admiration of Mo- hawks as well as Ojebwas, and many of the young men of both the tribes had sought her hand, but hitherto in vain. Among her numer- ous suitors the son of the Black Snake seemed in t}ie prosoiit fonu, rather tliiin as tlie story of tho IiifJiun girli Simp 3 lis it is, it is iiuitter ol' history. )us feel- principal s, which tieart of ed blaze d obtain t means. 1 I now the Rice certain .g, while 3mselves ,in rights )ut these if so, it " Black the Mo- e totem Ihe Bald ,nd rare learn of of Mo- of the ho-ht her numer- seemed liKJiun g'lrl, THE CAXADTAX CRUSOES. 213 to be the most enamoured of her beauty; and it was probably with some intention of winning tlie favour of the young Ojcbwa squaw for his son, that the Bhick Snake accepted the formal invitation of the Bald Eai^le to come to his hunting-grounds during the rice-harvest, and shoot deer and ducks on the lake, and to ratify a truce which had been for some time set on foot between them ; but while outwardly professing friendship and a desire for peace, inwardly the fire of hatred burned fiercely in the breast of the Black Snake against the Ojebwa chief and his only son, a young man of great promise, re- nowned among his tribe as a great hunter and warrior, but who had once offended the Mohawk chief by declining a matrimonial alliance with one of the daughters of a chief of inferior rank, who was closely connected to him by marriage. This affront rankled in the heart of the Black Snake, though outwardly he affected to have forgiven and forgotten the slight that had been put upon his relative. The hunting had been carried on for some days very amicably, when one day the Bald Eagle was requested, with all due attention to Indian etiquette, to go to the wigwam of the Black Snake. On entering the lodge, he per- ceived the Mohawk strangely disordered ; he rose from his mat, on which he had been sleeping, I' It H 1 214 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. "ItllA, ^ r iliisi'l:: with a couiitcnjince foarfully distorted, his ejea glaring hideously, his whole frame convulsed, and writhing as in fearful bodily anguish, and casting himself upon the ground, he rolled and grovelled on the earth, uttering frightful yells and groans. The Bald Ea^le was moved at the distressinsj state in which he found his guest, and asked the cause of his disorder, h.)it this the other refused to tell. After some hgurs the fit appeared to subside, but the chief remained moody and silent. The following day the same scene was repeated, and on the third, when the fit seemed to have increased in bodily agony, with great apparent reluctance, wrung seemingly from him by the importunity of his host, he consented to reveal the cause, which was, that the Bad Spirit had told him that these bodily tortures could not cease till the only son of his friend, the Ojebwa chief, had been sacrificed to appease his anger — neither could peace long continue between the two nations until this deed had been done ; and not onlv must the chiefs son be slain, but he must be pierced by his own ilither's hand, and his flesh served up at a feast at which the father must preside. The Black Snake affected the utmost horror and aversion at so bloody and unnatural a deed being committed to save hia life and the happiness of his tribe, but the peace THE CANADIAN CRL'SOES. 215 Ill's eyca ivulsed, ish, and lied and al yells dressing iked the refused ?ared to d silent. ^peated, to have pparent by the ) reveal irit had aid not Ojebwa mger — een the le ; and but he id, and father ed the ly and ive hia speaco was 10 be ratiliod for ever if the sacritiee was made, — if not, war to the kuilc was to be ever between the Mohawks an^l Ojebwas. The Bald Eairle seeinu; that his treacherous guest would make this an occasion of renewing a deadly warfare, for which possibly he was not at the time well prepared, assumed a stoical calmness, and replied, " Be it so ; great is the power of the Bad Spirit to cause evil to the tribes of the chiefs that rebel against his will. My son shall be saeriiiced by my hand, that the evil one may be appeased, and that the Black Snake's body may have ease, and his people rest beside the fires of their lodges in peace." " The Bald Eagle has spoken like a chief with a large heart," was the specious response of the wily Mohawk ; " moreover, the Good Spirit also appeared, and said, ' Let the Black Snake's son and tlie Bald Eagle's daughter become man and wife, that peace may be found to dwell among the lodges, and the war-hatchet be buried for ever.' " " The Beam of the Morning shall become tbe wife of the Young Pine," was the courteous answer; but stern revenge lay deep hidden be- neath the uiunoved brow and nassionles; P' ip. The fatal dav arrived ; the Bald Eagrle, with unflinching hand and eye that dropped no '"-^ M J ■ ] ■¥' 216 THE CAXADIAX CRUSOEw^. Witt IT t 1. human tear of sorrow for the son of his love, plunged the weapon into his heart with Spartan- like lirmness. The fearful feast of human flesh was prepared, and that old chief, pale but un- moved, presided over the ceremonies. The war-dance was danced around the sacrifice, and all went off well, as if no such fearful rite had been enacted : but a fearful retribution was at hand. The Younof Pine souoht the tent of the Bald Eagle's daughter that evening, and was received with all due deference, as a son of so great a chief as the Black Snake merited ; he was regarded now as a successful suitor, and intoxicated with the beauty of the Beam of the Morning, pressed her to allow the marriage to take place in a few days. The bride consented, and a day was named for the wedding feast to be celebrated, and that due honour might be given to so great an event, invitations were sent out to the principal families of the Mohawk tribe, and these amounted to several hundreds of souls, while the young Ojebwa hunters were despatched up the river and to different parts of the country, avowedly to collect venison, beaver, and other delicacies to regale their guests, but in reality to summon by means of trusty scouta a large war party from the small lakes, to be in readiness to take part in the deadly revenge that was preparing for their enemies. THE CAXADTAX CRUSOES. 217 f his love, h Spartan- iman flesh le but un- ies. The rifice, and il rite had ion was at ent of the and was son of so irited ; he litor, and am of the arriage to lonsented, g feast to might be ^ere sent Mohawk hundreds ters were parts of , beaver, ests, but )y scouta to be in revenge Meantime the squaws pitched the nuptial tent, and prepared the bridal ornaments. A large wigwam capable of containing all the expected guests was then constructed, adorned with the thick branches of evergreens so artfully con- trived as to be capable of concealing the armed Ojebwas and their allies, who in due time wei'e introduced beneath this leafy screen, armed with the murderous tomahawk and scalping-knifa with which to spring upon their defenceless and unsuspecting guests. According to the etiquette always observed upon such occasions, all deadly weapons were left outside the tent. The bride- groom had been conducted with songs and dancing to the tent of the bride. The guests, to the number of several hundred naked and painted warriors, were assembled. The feast was declared to be ready ; a great iron pot or kettle occupied the centre of the tent. Ac- cording to the custom of the Indians, the father of the bridegroom was invited to lift the most important dish from the pot, whilst the warriors commenced their war-dance around him. This dish was usually a bear's head, which was fastened to a string left for the purpose of raising it from the pot. " Let the Black Snake, the great chief of the Mohawks, draw up the head and set it on the table, that his people may eat and make merry^ 19 .^' --4, V; I, a 218 Tin: CANADIAN CIIL'SOES. C" IT I :l,l ,| . >.,| and that liis wise lieart may be glad," weie the scornl'ul words of the Bald P^aizle. A yell of horror burst I'rom the lips of the liorroi'-striekeu lather, as he lifted to view the fresh and gory head of his only son, the hapj))j bridegroom of the lovely daughter of the Ojeb \va chief. (( Ila !" shouted the Bald Eagle, " is the great chief of the Mohawks a squaw, that his blood grows white and his heart trembles at the sight of his son, the bridegroom of the Beam of the Morning? The Bald Eagle gave neither sigh nor groan when he plunged the knife into the heart of his child. Come, brother, take the knife ; taste the flesh and drink the blood of thy son : the Bald Eagle shrank not when you bade him partake of the feast that was prepared from his young warrior's body." The wretched father dashed himself upon the earth, while his cries and howlings rent the air; those cries were answered by the war-whoop of the ambushed Ojebwas, as they sprang to their feet, and with deafening yells attacked the guests, who, panic-stricken, naked, and defence- less, fell an easy prey to their infuriated enemies. Not one living foe escaped to tell the tale of that fearful marriage feast. A second Judith had the Indian girl proved. It was her plighted hand that had severed the head of her unsus THE CANADIAN CRUSOKS. 219 ," weie the ips of the J view the the Iiiipj)}j lie Ojebwa 3 the great his blood ; the sight am of the iither sigh b into the take the )od of thy jou bade ired from upon the '' the air; v^hoop of to their ked the defence- enemies. tale of . Judith plighted r unsus pectiug bridegroom to complete the fearful ven- geance that had been devised in return for the merciless and horrible murder of her brother. Nor was the sacrilice yet finished, for with fearful cries the Indian seized upon the canoes of their enemies, and with the utmost speed, urged by unsatisfied revenge, hurried down the lake to an island where the women and children and such of the aged or young men as were not included among the wedding guests, were encamped in unsuspecting security. Panic- stricken, the Mohawks olfered no resistance, but fell like sheep a})pointed for the slaughter: the Ojebwas slew there the grey-head with the mfant of da3'S. But while the youths and old men tamely yielded to their enemies, there was one, whose spirit roused to fury by the murder of her father, armed herself with the war-club and knife, and boldly withstood the successful warriors. At the door of the tent of the slaugh- tered chief the Amazon defended her children : while the war-lightning kindled in her dark eve, she called aloud in scornful tones to her people to hide themselves in the tents of their women, who alone were braves, and would fight their battles. Fiercely she taunted the men, but they shrank from the unequal contest, and jhe alone was found to deal the denth-blow upon the foe, till overpowered with numbers, b "4* ,1 220 THE CAXADTAX CRT'SOES. e f nr ' !Mf 'i'j ■' and pierced with frightful wounds, she fell sing, ing her own death-song and raising the wail for the dead who lay around her. Night closed in, hut the work of blood still continued, till not a victim was found, and again they went forth on their exterminating work. Lower down they ^ound another encampment, and there also they slew all the inhabitants of the lodges ; they then returned back to the island, to gather together their dead and collect the spoils of their tents. They were weary with the fatigue of the slaugh- t*^r of that fearful day ; they were tired of blood- shedding ; the retribution had satisfied even their love of blood : and when they found, on returning to the spot where the heroine had stood at bay, one young solitary female sitting beside the corpse of that dauntless woman, her mother, they led her away, and did all that their savage nature could suggest to soften her anguish and dry her tears. They brought her to the tents of their women, and clothed and fed her, and bade her be comforted ; but her young heart burned within her, and she refused consolation. .She could not forget the \vron2:s of her people : she was the only living creature left of the Mohawks on that island. The young girl was Indiana, the same whom Hector Max- well had found, wounded and bound, to perisb with hunger and thirst on Bare-hilL ihe fell s/ng' the wail for ht closed ill, !(1, till not a ent forth on down they re also they i; they then ler together their tents. the slaiigli- ed of blood- isfied even Y found, on eroine had lale sittiniT i^oman, her d all that soften her ought her othed and but her le refused le wronofs g creature he young 'tor Max- to perish THE CANAm^lN CK^ rOES. 221 Brooding with lev; tigo in her heart) the young girl told theni that she had stolen unper- ceived into the tent of the liald Kagle, an(\ aimed a knife at his thi'oat, but the fatal bltjw was arrested by one of the young men, who had Wiitched her enter the old chief's tent. A coun- cil was called, and she was taken to Bare-hill, bound, and left in the sad state already de- scribed. It was with feelin«, 1 n I 1 < a ,1 m I ♦■ 222 TITK CAXADTAX rilUSOKS. c F I I \ '"■ 'I God and an inlieritor of tho klnu^dom of hoavfu JIow hard wore tlicse conditions to the vonnij' lieatli(;n, — how contrary to L t nature, to all that sh(^ had boon taught in tlic tents of her fiitliers, \vh(3ro revenjje was virtue, and to take tl le se thi of m eneniv a y th t Yet when she contrasted tlie gentle, kind, rtnd dovedike characters of her Christian friends with the lierce, bloody people of her tribe and of her Ojebwa enemies, she could not but own they were more worthy of love and acbniration: had they not found her a poor, miserable, trem- bling captive, unbound her, fed and cherished her, pouring the balm of consolation into her wounded heart, and leading her in bands of tenderest love to forsake those wild and fearful passions that warred in her soul, and bringing her to the feet of the Saviour, to become his meek and holy child, a lamb of his " extended fold ?"* * TIio Indian who related this naiTative to mo was a son of a Rice Lake chief, Mosang Poudasli by name, who vouchcil for its truth as an liistoric fact remembered Ijy liia father, whose grandsire had been one of tlie actors in tlie massacre. Mosaui^ l*oudash promised to write down tlie le^'cuvl, and did so, in oart, but made sucli confusion between liis iinjierfect English and Indian hmguage, that tiie MS. was unavailable for copying. THE CAXADTAX CRUSOK9. 223 of llP.IVPU lire, to all nts of lier id to tiilvo \tr f i, kind, mid an friomls r tribe aui] 3t but own drniration: able, trem- L clierishtMl n into her bands of and fearful bringing lecoine his ''extended I'as a son of a voncheil for father, whose 're. Mortani^ |d did rto, iu •feet English for copying. CHAPTER IX. "The l.orn of the Imntcr in heard on the hill." /I'ish Sony. "VXTIWHjK tli(5 Indians were actively pursuing * ^ their sjiorts on th(5 lake, shooting wild fowl, and hunting and fishing by torcli-light, BO exciting was the amusement of watching them, that the two lads, Hector and Louis, quite forgot all sense of danger in the enjoy- ment of lying or sitting on the brow of the mount near the great ravine, and looking at their proceedings. Once or twice the lads were near betraying themselves to the Indians by raising a shout of delight, at some skilful ma- noeuvre that excited their unqualified admiration and applause. At night, when the canoes had all retired to the camp on the north shore, and all fear of detection had ceased for the time, they lighted up their shanty fire, and cooked a good sup- per, and also prepared sufficiency of food for the following day. The Indians remained for a fortnight; at the end of that time Indiana, who was a watchful spy on their movements, told Hector and Jjouis that the camp was broken up, "^ ••"l tl H l a 224 THIO CAXADIAX CKrS01%;S. *\ W! « u e: ii, l.>| ?. and thiit the Iiulians had gone up the river, and would not rt'turn agiiin for some weeks. The departure of the Indians was a matter of great rejoieing to Cathai'ine, whose dread of these savages had gi'eatly increased since she had been made acquainted with the fearful deeds which Indiana had described ; and what reliance could she feel in peo{)le who regarded deeds of blood and vengeance as acts of virtuous heroism ? Once, and only once during their stay, the Indians had passed within a short distance of their dwelling ; but they were in full chase of a bear, which had been seen crossing the deep ra- vine near Mount Ararat, and they had been too intent upon their game to notice the shanty, or had taken it for the shelter of some trapper if it had been seen, for th^^y never turned out of tlieir path, and Catharine, who was alone at the time, drawing water from the spring, was so com- pletely concealed by the high bank above her, that she had quite escaped their notice. For- tunately, Indiana gave the two boys a signal to conceal themselves when she saw them enter the ravine; and effectually hidden among the thick grey mossy trunks of the cedars at the lake shore, they remained secure from molesta- tion, while the Indian girl dropped noiselessly down among the tangled thicket of wild vines THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. 225 •iver, and ks. The ' of great of these she had ful deeds t reliance led deeds virtuous stay, the stance of 3hase of a 3 deep ra- . been too hantv, or pper if it t of tlieir the time, so com- ove her, e. For- signal to m enter ong the s at the molesta- iselessly Id vines and brushwood, which she drew cautiously over her, and closed her eyes, lest, as she naively re- marked, their glitter should be seen and betray her to her enemies. It was a moment of intense anxiety to our poor wanderers, whose terrors were more excited on behalf of the young Mohawk than for them- selves, and they congratulated her on her escape with affectionate warmth. " Are my white brothers afraid to die ?"" was the young squaw's half-scornful reply. " Indiana is the daughter of a brave: she fears not to die I" The latter end of September and the first week in October had been stormy and even cold. The rainy season, however, was now over ; the nights were often illuminated by the Aurora borealis, which might be seen forming an arch of soft and lovely brightness over the lake, to the north and north-eastern portions of the horizon, or shooting upwards, in ever-vary- ing shafts of greenish light, now hiding, now re- vealing the stars, which shone with softened radiance through the silvery veil that dimmed their beauty. Sometimes for many nights to gether the same appearance might be seen, and was usually the forerunner of frosty weather, though occasionally it was the precursor of cold winds and heavy rains. '^ 'J j^tf it H 1 i < a > 226 THE CANADIAN CllUSOES. WtKtu r r !Wii; I, t The Indian girl regarded it with superstitioud feehngs, but whether as an omen for good or ill, Bhe would not tell. On all matters connected with her religious notions she was shy and re- served, though occasionally she unconsciously revealed them. Thus the warnings of death or misfort'ines were revealed to her by certain omi- nous sounds in the woods, the appearance of strange birds or animals, or the moanings of others. The screeching of the owl, the bleating of the doe, or barking of the fox, were evil au- guries, while the flight of the eagle and the croaking of the raven were omens of good. She put faith in dreams, and would foretell good or evil fortune from them ; she could read the morning and evening clouds, and knew from vari- ous appearances of the sky, or the coming or de- parting of certain birds or insects, changes in the atmosphere. Her ear was quick in distinguish- ing the changes in the voices of the birds or ani- mals ; she knew the times of their coming and going, and her eye was quick to see as her ear to detect sounds. Her voice was soft, and low, and plaintive, and she delighted in imitating the little ballads or hymns that Catharine sung ; though Bhe knew nothing of their meaning, she would catch the tunes, and sing the song with Catha- rine, touching the hearts of her delighted audi tors by the rneloc|y and pathos of her voice. erstitioud )od or ill, ;onnected ( and rc- iisciously death or 'tain omi- irance of miiigs of J bleating 3 evil au- and the )od. She 1 good or read the Tom vari- ing or de- ^es in the [tinguish- tls or ani- ling and ler ear to llow, and Ithe little though |e would Catha- led audi )ice. THE CA^'ADIAX CRUSOES. 227 The season called Indian summer had now arrived : the air was soft and mild, almost op- pressively warm ; the sun looked red as though seen through the smoke-clouds of a populous city. A soft blue haze hung on the bosom of the glassy lake, which reflected on its waveless surface every passing shadow, and the gorgeous tints of its changing woods on shore and island. Sometimes the stillness of the air was relieved by a soft, sighing wind, which rustled the dying foliage as it swept by. The Indian summer is the harvest of the Indian tribes. It is during this season that they hunt and shoot the wild fowl that come in their annual flights to visit the waters of the American lakes and rivers ; it is then that they gather in their rice, and prepare their winter stores of meat, and fish, and furs. The Indian girl knew the season they would resort to cer- tain hunting-grounds. They were constant, and altered not their customs ; as it was with their fathers, so it was with them. Louis had heard so much of the Otonabee river from Indiana, that he was impatient to go and explore the entrance, and the shores of the lake on that side, which hitherto they had not ventur-^d to do, for fear of being surprised by the Indians. " Some fine day," said Louis, " we ■J n \ ] 228 THE CANADIAN CHUSOES. will go out in the canoe, explore the distant islands, and go up the river a little way." Hector advised visiting all the islands by turns, beginning at the little islet which looks in the distance like a boat in full sail ; it is level with the water, and has only three or four trees upon it. The name they had given to it yas "Ship Island." The Indians have some name for it which I have forgotten ; but it means, I have been told, " Witch Island." Hector's plan met with general approbation, and they resolved to take provisions with them for several days, and visit the islands and go up the river, passing the night under the shelter of the thick trees on the shore wherever they found a pleasant halting- place. The weather was mild and warm, the lake was as clear and calm as a mirror, and in joyous mood our little party embarked and paddled up the lake, first to Ship Island — but this did not detain them many minutes. They then went to Grape Island, which they so named from the abundance of wild vines, now rich with purple clusters of the ripe grapes, — tart, but still not to be despised by our young adventurers; and they brought away a large birch basket heaped up with the fruit. " Ah, if we had but a good cake of maple sugar, now, to preserve oui THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 229 distant ids by 1 looks is level ir trees it yas e name leans, I ir's plan 'esolved lys, and sing the 3 on the halting- ne lake joyous Lied up lid not ^ent to )m the purple not to ; and |ieaped la good re oui grapes with, and make such grape jelly as my mother makes 1" said Louis. " If we find out a su2;ar-bush we will manacre to make plenty of sugar," said Catharine; ** there are maples not two hundred yards from the shanty, near the side of the steep bank to the east. You remember the pleasant spot which we named the Happy Valley,* where the bright creek runs, dancing along so merrily, be- low the pine-ridge?" " Oh, yes ; the same that winds along near the foot of Bare-hill, where the water-cresses grow." *' Yes, where I gathered the milk- weed the other day." " What a beautiful pasture-field that will make, when it is cleared 1" said Hector, thought- fully. " Hector is always planning about fields, and clearing great farms," said Louis, laughing. " We shall see Hec a great man one of these days ; I think he has in his own mind brushed, and burned, and logged up all the fine flats and table-land on the plains before now, ay, and cropped it all with wheat, and peas, and Indian corn. ?j " We will have a clearing and a nice field of * A lovely valley to the east of Mount Ararat, now belong- ing to a worthy and industrious family of the name of Brown. I wish Hector could see it as it now is, — a cultivated fertile farm. 20 :>^ 1 ! I J 4 1 230 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. lOiJ'' V' II in fgf ■*.■*% r- I. v., a corn next year, if we live," replied Hector; *' that corn that we found in the canoe will be a treasure." " Yes, and the corn-cob you got on Bare-hill," said Catharine. "How lucky we have been! We shall be so happy when we see our little field of corn flourishing round the shanty I It was a good thing, Hec, that you went to the Indian camp that daj^, though both Louis and I were very miserable while you were absent ; but you see God must have directed you, that the life of this poor girl might be saved, to be a comfort to us. Every thing has prospered well with us since she came to us. Perhaps it is because we try to make a Christian of her, and so God blesses all our endeavours." " We are told," said Hector, " that there is joy with the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth; doubtless it is a joyful thing when the hea-Lhen that knew not the name of God are taught to glorify his holy name." Indiana, while exploring, had captured a por- cupine ; she declared that she should have plenty of quills for edging baskets and mocassins; besides, she said, the meat was white and good to eat. Hector looked with a suspicious eye upon the little animal, doubting the propriety of eating its flesh, though he had learned to eat musk-rats, and consider them good meat, baked THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 231 lector ; ill be a re-hill," been ! Lir little tyl It to the is and I nt ; but hat the to be a ed well 3S it is ler, and there is ler that 5 when of God a por- plenty assins ; d good us eye )priety to eat baked in Louis's Indian oven, or roasted on a foiked Btick, before the fire. The Indian porcupine is a small animal, not a very great deal larger than the common British hedgehog ; the quills, how- ever, are longer and stronger, and varied with alternate clouded marks of pure white and dark brownish grey ; they are minutely barbed, so that if one enters the flesh it is with difficulty extracted, but will work through of itself in an opposite direction, and can then be easily pulled out. Dogs and cattle often suffer great incon- venience from getting their muzzles filled with the quills of the porcupine, the former when worrying the poor little animal, and the latter by accidentally meeting a dead one among the herbage; great inflammation will sometimes attend the extraction. Indians often lose val- uable hounds from this cause. Beside porcu- pines, Indiana told her companions, there were some fine butter-nut trees on the island, and they could collect a bag full in a very short time. This was good news, for the butter-nut is sweet and pleasant, almost equal to the walnut, of which it is a species. The day was passed pleasantly enough in col- lecting nuts and grapes ; but as this island did not afltbrd any good cleared spot for passing the night, and, moreover, was tenanted by black snakes, several of which made their appearance %«' 4' ^1 '1 •« i I I 232 THE CAXADTAN CRUS0E3. c •«lij ;:i: III mm. !■ m- fK,: '■■*» p. Him. •»N, •'( f ■ t.. among the stones near the edge of the water, they agreed by common council to go to Long Island, where Indiana said there was an old log-house, the walls of which were still stand- ing, and where there was dry moss in plenty, which would make them a comfortable bed for the night. This old log-house she said had been built, she heard the Indians say, by a French Canadian trapper, who used to visit the lake some years ago ; he was on friendly terms with the chiefs, who allowed him many privi- leges, and he bought their furs, and took them down the lake, through the river Trent, to some station-house on the great lake. They found they should have time enough to land and de- posit their nuts and grapes and paddle to Long Island before sunset. Upon the western part of this fine island they had several times landed and passed some hours, exploring its shores ; but Indiana told them, to reach the old log-house they must enter the low swampy bay to the east, at an opening which she called Indian Cove. To do this required some skill in the manage- ment of the canoe, which was rather over-loaded for so light a vessel ; and the trees grew so close and thick that they had some difficulty in push- ing their way through them without injuring its frail sides. These trees or bushes were chiefly black elder, high-bush cranberries, dog- he water, » to Tiong 3 an old ill stand- n plenty, e bed for said had ay, by a > visit the Jly terms .ny privi- ook them t, to some ley found d and de- } to Long tern part es landed shores ; og-house the east, n Cove. I manage- jr-loaded so close I in push- [injuring )s were jes, dog- m THE CAXADTAN CRUSOES. 233 wood, willows, and, as they proceeded further, and there was ground of a more solid nature, cedar, poplar, swamp oak, and soft maple, with silver birch and wild cnerrics. Lonor strinsjs of silvery-grey tree-moss hung dangling over their heads, the bark and roots of the birch and cedars were covered with a luxuriant growth of green moss, but there was a dampness and close- ness in this place that made it ftir from whole- some, and the little band of voyagers were not very sorry when the water became too shallow to admit of the canoe making its way through the swampy channel, and they landed on the banks of a small circular pond, as round as a ring, and nearly surrounded by tall trees, hoary with moss and lichens ; large water-lilies floated on the surface of this miniature lake, and the brilliant red berries of the high-bush cranberry and the purple clusters of grapes festooned the trees. "A famous breeding-place this must be for ducks," observed Louis. " And for flowers," said Catharine, " and for grapes and cranberries. There is always some beauty or some usefulness to be found, however lonely the spot." " A fine place for musk-rats, and minks, and fishes," said Hector, looking round. " The old trapper knew what he was about when he made 20* '1 \ 'J 1 234 THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. p' r-. 'i r »., liis lodge uoar tliis ])C)iiil. And tluTO, sure enouii:h, is the log-hut, and not so bad :i own either;" and serand)]ing up the bank he enten-d the deserted little tenement, well pleased to find it in tolerable repair. There were the ashes on the stone-hearth, just as it had been left yeai's baek by the old trapper ; some rough-hew n shelves ; a rude bedstead of cedar-})oles still oe- cupied a eorner of the httle dwelling ; heaps of old dry moss and grass lay upon the ground ; and the little squaw pointed with one of her silent laughs to a collection of broken egg- shells, where some wild duck had sat and hatched her downv brood amonoj the soft mate- rials which she had found and appropriated to her own purpose. The only things pertaining to the former possessor of the log-hut were an old, rusty, battered tin pannikin, now, alas ! unfit for holding water ; a bit of a broken earthen whisky jar ; a rusty nail, which Louis pounced upon, and pocketed, or rather pouched, — for he had substituted a fine pouch of deer- skin for his worn-out pocket ; and a fishing- line of good stout cord, which was wound on a Bplinter of red cedar, and carefully stuck between one of the rafters and the roof of the shanty. A rusty but ef&cient hook was attached to the line, and Louis, who was the finder, was quite overjoyed at his good fortune in making so m THE CANADIAN OUL'SOES. 23i here, sure l)M(l II one he eiitei't'(l Bed to iinil e ashes on left yeiirrf )Ugh-lie\vii les still oe- ig ; heaps le ground ; ne of her Dken eo'ix- [ sat and soft mate- bpriated to pertaining were an ow, alas ! a broken eh Louis pouched, of deer- fishing- )und on a between e shanty. ed to the vas quite aking so valuable an addition to his fishing-tackle. IToc- tor got only an odd worn-out mocassin, which he chucked into the little pond in disdain ; while Catharine declared she woidd keep the old tin pot as a relic, and carefully deposited it in the canoe. As they made their way into the interior of the island, they found that there were a great many line sugar maples which had been tapped by some one, as the boys thought, by the old trapper; but Indiana, on examining the inci- sions in the trees, and the remnants of birch- hark vessels that lay mouldering on the earth below them, declared them to have been the work of her own people ; and long and sadly did the young girl look upon these simple memorials of a race of whom she was the last living remnant. The young girl stood there in melancholy mood, a solitary, isolated being, with no kindred tie upon the earth to make life dear to her ; a stranger in the land of her fathers, associating wdth those whose waj^s were not her ways, nor their thoughts her thoughts ; whose language was scarcely known to her, whose God was not the God of her flithers. yet the dark eyes of the Indian girl were not dimmed with tears as she thought of these things ; she had learned of her people to suffer, and be still. 'J n U { •■i A 3 i on 1 236 THE CANADIAN CiiUSOES. ifriite,, r ■''4, •♦n. ' 'H e; '1 h 1.. • 11 Silent and patient slic stood, with her melan* clioly gaze bent on the earth, when she felt the gentle hand of Catliarine laid upon her arm, and then kindly and lovingly passed round her neck, as she whispered, — (i Indiana, I will be to vou as a sister, II use and will love you and cherish you, because you are an orphan girl, and alone in the world ; but God loves you, and will make you happy. Jfo is a Father to the fatherless, and the Friend of the destitute, and to them that have no helper.'' The words of kindness and love need no in- terpretation ; no book-learning is necessary to make them understood. The young, the old, the deaf, the dumb, the blind, can read this uni- versal language ; its very silence is often more eloquent than words — the gentle pressure of the hand, the half-echoed sigh, the look of sympathy will penetrate to the very heart, and unlock its hidden stores of human tenderness and love. The rock is smitten, and the waters gush forth, a bright and living stream, to refresh and fer- tilize the thirsty soul. The heart of the poor mourner was touched : she bowed down her head upon the hand that held her so kindly in its sisterly grasp, and wept soft sweet human tears full of grateful lo\e, while she whispered, in her own low plaintive voice, " My white sister, I kiss you in m\ ul t s. THE CANADIAN CKLSUES. 237 h her Tnelan« 1 slie felt the on her arm, 3(1 round Iilt a sister, ami ause you are world ; but happy. J To 16 Friend of 3 no helper.'' } need no in- necessary to mg, the old, ead this uni- 5 often more ssure of the )f sympathy unlock its and love. gush forth, sh and fer- IS touched : hand that p, and wept iteful love, w plaintive ou in mv heart; T will love the Gi»d of my white bro* thers, and 1x3 his child." The two friends now hu.sicd themselves in preparing the evening meal : they found Louis and Hector had lighted u|) a charming blaze on the desolate hearth. A few branches of cedar tw'sted together by Catharine, made a service- able broom, with which she swept the floor, giving to the deserted dwelling a neat and com- fortable asj)ect ; some big stones were quickly rolled in, and made to answer for seats in the chimney corner. The new-found fishing-line was soon put into requisition by Louis, and with very little delay, a fine dish of black bass, broiled on the coals, was added to their store of dried venison and roasted bread-roots, which they found in abundance on a low spot on the island. Grapes and butternuts, which Hector cracked with stones by way of nut-crackers, finished their sylvan meal. The boys stretched themselves to sleep on the ground, with their feet, Indian fashion, to the fire ; while the two girls occupied the mossy couch which they had newly spread with fragrant cedar and hemlock boughs. The next island that claimed their attention was Sugar-Maple Island,* a fine, thickly- wopded * Sugiir Tsland, a cimrmiag object from the picturtt^'jue cottage of Alfred flay ward, Esq. « » "^r^ i i 1 . I I 1 -..■» ] 238 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 1 I island, rising with steep rocky banks from tlio water. A beautiful object, but too densely woodec! to admit of our party penetrating be- yond a few yards of its shores. The next island thev named the Beaver,^ V 7 from its resemblance in shape to that animal. A fine, high, oval island beyond this they named Black Island,! from its dark evergreens ; the next was that which seemed most to excite the interest of their Indian guide, although but a small stony island, scantily clothed with trees, lower down the lake. This place she called Spooke Island,:}: which means in the Indian tongue, a place for the dead; it is sometimes called Spirit Island, and here, in times past, used the Indian people to bury their dead. The island is now often the resort of parties of plea- * The Beaver, commonly called Sheep Island, from some person having pastured a lew sheep upon it some few years aj^o. I have taken the liberty of preservin,!? the name, to which it bears an obvious resemblance ; the nose of the Beavor lies to- wards the west, the tail to the cast. This island is nearly opi"tosite to Gore's Landing, and forms a pleasing object from the windows and verandah of Chiverton, the house of niv esteemed friend, William Falkner, Esq., the Patriarch of tlio Plains, as he has often been termed ; one of the only residents on the Kice Lake plains for many years; one of the few geutle- uicn who have taste enough to be charmed with this lovely tract of country, and to appreciate its agricultural resources, which, of late, have been so fully developed. t Black Island, the sixth from the head of the lake; an oval island, remarkal)lo for its evergreens. X Aj'p ;u lix il. ' 5. ks from tlio too densely etrating be* le Beaver,^ that animal. they named greens ; the ) excite the Lougli but a witli trees, i she called the Indian J sometimes times past, dead. The ies of plea- |ncl, from some tow vears a>ro. |ne, to which it Beavor lies to- laiul ii* nearly |ug object from house of my Litriarcli of tho only residents ,he few geutle- |itli this lovely ml resources, lako ; an oval TUE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 239 sure, who, from its being grassy and open, find it more available than those which are densely wooded. The young Mohawk regarded it with feelings of superstitious awe, and would not uffer Ilector to 'and the canoe on its rocky shores. '• It is a place of spirits," she said ; " the ghosts of my fathers will be angry if we go there." Even her young companions felt that they were upon sacred ground, and gazed with silent reverence upon the burial isle. Strongly imbued with a love of the marvel- lous, which they hod derived from their High- land origin, Indiana's respect for the spirits of her ancestors was regarded as most natural, and in silence, as if fearing to disturb the solemnity of the spot, they resumed their paddles, and after a while reached the mouth of the river Otonabee, which was divided into two separate channels by a long, low point of swampy land covered with stunted, mossy bushes and trees, rushes, drift-wood, and aquatic plants. Indi- ana told them this river flowed from the north, and that it was many days' journey up to the lakes ; to illustrate its course, she drew with her paddle a long line with sundry curves and broader spaces, some longer, some smaller, with bays and inlets, which she gave them to under- stand was the chain of lakes that she spoke of. '.fi-a I 240 THE CANADIAN CKUSOES. Q..^ ■*«|;.|',., pKMi,... ',';■■■ JP»'''lM|ikf„„,^ P'^' * ■*K«>«*i|j, «'■ ■ >, »,, t There were beautiful hunting- (grounds on the borders of these lakes, and many fine waterfalls and rocky islands; she had been taken up to these waters during the time of her captivity. The Ojebwas, she said, were a branch of the great Chippewa nation, who owned much land and great waters thereabouts. Compared with the creeks and streams that they had seen hitherto, the Otonabee appeared a majestic river, and an object of great admiration and curiosity, for it seemed to them as if it were the high road leading up to an unknown far-oft' land — a land of dark, my-terious, impenetrable forests, — flowing on, flo\ ■ m, in lonely ma- jesty, reflecting on its traL.f.^uil bosom the blue sky, the dark pines, and grey cedars, — the pure ivory water-lily, and every passing shadow of bird or leaf that flitted across its surface — so quiet was the onward flow of its waters. A few brilliant leaves yet lingered on the soft maples and crimson- tinted oaks, but the glory of the forest had departed ; the silent fall of many a sear and yellow leaf told of the death of sum- mer and of winter's coming reign. Yet the air was wrapt in a deceitful stillness; no breath of wind moved the trees or dimpled the water. Bright wreaths of scarlet berries and wild grapes hung in festoons among the faded foliage. The siJence of the forest was unbroken, save by the THE CAXAUIAX CRUS0E3. 2U ds on the waterfalls i.en up to captivity, ch of the luch land reams that appeared a id miration s if it were )wn far-oft' penetrable lonely ma- tt the blue the pure hadow of rface — so s. )n the soft the glory 11 of many :h of sum- 'et the air Ibreath of be water, lild grapes ]ge. The ^e by the quick tapping of the little midland woodpecker, or the shrill scream of the blue jay ; the whirring sound of the large white and grey duck, (called by the frequenters of these lonely waters the whistlewing,) as its wings swept the waters ia its flight, or the light dripping of the paddle, so still, so quiet was the scene. As the dav was now far advanced, the Indian girl advised them either to encamp for the night on the river bank, or to u«e all speed in return- ing. She seemed to view the aspects of the hea- vens witii some anxiety. Vast volumes of light copper-tinted clouds were rising, the sun seen through its hazv veil looked red and dim, and a hot sultrv air unrelieved bv a breath of refresh- ing wind oppressed our j^oung voyagers ; and though the same coppery clouds and red sun had been seen for several successive days, a sort of instinctive feeling prompted the desire in all to return; and after a few minutes' rest and re- freshment, they turned their little bark towards the lake ; and it was we41 that they did so ; by the time thev had reached the middle of the lake, the stillness of the air was rapidly changing. The rose-tinted clouds, that had lain so long piled upon each other in mountainous ridges, began to move upwards, at first slowly, then with rapidly accelerated motion. There was a hollow moaning in the pine tops, and by fits a 21 \ 1 « 1 242 THE CAXADIAX C. HUSOES. 1^ ' iiitllill; gust J breeze swept the surface of the water, raising it into rough, short, white-crested ridges. These signs were pointed out by Indiana as the harbinger of a rising hurricane : and now a swift spark of light like a falling star glanced on the water, as if there to quench its fiery light. Again the Indian girl raised her dark hand and pointed to the rolling storm-clouds, to the crested waters, and the moving pine tops; then to the head of the Beaver Island — it was the one nearest to then). With an arm of energy she wielded the paddle, with an eye of fire she directed the course of their little vessel, for well she knew their danger and the need for strain- ing every nerve to reach the nearest point of land. Low muttering peals of thunder 'were now heard, the wind was rising with electric speed. 'Away flew the light bark, with the swiftness of a bird, over the water ; the tempest was above, around, and beneath. The hollow crash of the forest trees as they bowed to the earth could be heard, sullenly sounding from shore to shore. And now the Indian girl, fling- ing back her black streaming hair from her brow, knelt at the head of the canoe, and with renewed vigour plied the paddle. The waters, lawshed into a state of turbulence by the violence of the storm, lifted the canoe up and down, but no word was spoken — they eaf/h felt the great- [10 water, ed ridges, ndiana aa md now a jlanced on .ery light, hand and :he crested len to the i the one energy she >f fire she el, for well for strain - point of nder Vere th electric with the le tempest e hollow ed to the Lmg from Igirl, fling- Ifrom her and with le waters, violence lown, but the great- THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 243 ness of the peril, but they also knew that they were in the hands of Ilim who can say to the tempest-tossed waves, " Peace be still," and they obey Him. Every effort was made to gain the nearest island; to reach the mainland was impossible, for the rain poured down a blinding deluge ; it was with difficulty the little craft was kept afloat, by bailing out the water ; to do this, Louis was fain to use his cap, and Catharine assisted with the old tin pot which she had fortunately brought from the trapper's shanty. The tempest was at its height when they reached the nearest point of the Beaver, and joyful was the grating sound of the canoe as it was vigorously pushed up on the shingly beach, beneath the friendly shelter of the overhanging trees, where, perfectly exhausted by the exertions they had made, dripping with rain, and over- powered by the terrors of the storm, they threw themselves on the ground, and in safety watched its progress — thankful for an escape from such imminent peril. Thus ended the Indian summer — so deceitful in its calmness and its beauty. The next day saw the ground white with snow, and hardened into stone by a premature frost. Our poor voyagers were not long in quitting the shelter of the Beaver Island, and betaking them once more III "Vttfc.- ill- ..;|ti ■ "1 ■f.f 1 .'t \ I >.. I n 244: THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 3 ""'■'iilliU to their ark of refuge — the log-house on Mount Ararat. The winter, that year, set in with unusual severity some weeks sooner than usual, so that from the begining of November to the middle of April the snow never entirely left the ground. The lake was soon covered with ice, and by the month of December it was one compact solid sheet from shore to shore. l^HE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 245 n Mount unusual I, so that e middle 3 ground, id by the )act solid CHAPTER X. " Sacred oy the red and noisy light." — Colebidob. TTECTOR and Louis had now little employ* -■— *- ment, excepting chopping fire-wood, which was no very arduous task for two stout healthy lads, used from childhood to handling the axe. Trapping, and hunting, and snaring hares, were occupations whicli they pursued more for the ex- citement and exercise than from hunger, as they had laid by abundence of dried venison, fish, and birds, besides a plentiful store of rice. They now visited those trees thaj they had marked in the summer, where they had noticed the bees hiving, and cut them down ; in one they got more than a pailful of rich honey-comb, and others yielded some more, some less ; this afforded them a delicious addition to their boiled rice, and dried acid fruits. They might have melted the A^ax, and burned candles of it; but this v^as a 'efinement of luxurv that never once occurred to our young housekeepers: the dry pine knots that are found in the woods are the settlers' candles; but Catharine made some very good vinegar with the refuse of the honey ar»d. combs, by • 2' 23l T<«..1J| 246 THE CAXADIAN CKUSOES. #J»IHII(!|.ft||| mil; 1 ill I 'ill ^1! pouring water on it, and leaving it to fcrmeni in a warm nook of tlie chimney, in one of the birch-bark vessels, and this was an excellent substitute for salt as a seasoning to the fresh meat and fish. Like the Indians, they were no\r reconciled to the want of this seasonable article. Indiana seemed to enjoy the cold weather ; the lake, though locked up to every one else, was open to her ; with the aid of the tomahawk she patiently made an opening in the ice, and over this she built a little- shelter of pine boughs stuck into the ice. Armed with a sharp spear carved out of hardened wood, she would lie upon the ice and patiently await the rising of some large fish to the air-hole, when dexterously plunging it into the unwary creature, she dragged it to the surface. Many a noble fish jiid the young squaw bring home, and cast at the feet of him whom she had tacitly elected as her lord and master; to him she offered the voluntary service of a faithful and devoted servant — I might almost have said, slave. During the middle of December there were some days of such intense cold, that even our young Crusoes, hardy as they were, preferred the blazing log-fire and warm ingle nook, to the frozen lake and cutting north-west wind which blew the loose snow in blinding diifts over its bleak, unsheltered surface. Clad in the warm THE CANADIAN CliUSOES. 247 o fcrmeni ne of the excellent the fresh were no\r )le article. weather ; one else, omahawk 3 ice, and le boughs xrp spear Hie upon ; of some xterously 3 dragged iiid the the feet her lord oluntarj vant — I re were ven our referred :, to the which over its warm tunic and petticoat of Indian blanket with fur- lined mocassins, Catharine and her Indian friend felt little cold excepting to the lace when they went abroad, unless the wind was high, and then experience taught them to keep at home. And these cold gloomy days they employed in many useful works. Indiana had succeeded in dyeing the quills of the porcupine that she had captured on Grape Island ; with these she worked a pair of beautiful mocassins and an arrow case for Hector, besides making a sheath for Louis's couteau-da-cliasse, of which the young hunter was very proud, bestowing ' great praise on the workmanship. Indiana appeared to be deeply engrossed with some work that she was engaged in, but pre- served a provoking degree of mystery about it, to the no small annoyance of Louis, who, among his other traits of qjiaracter, was remarkably in- quisitive, wanting to know the why and where- fore of every thing he saw. Indiana first prepared a frame of some tough wood, it might be the inner bark of the oak or elm or hickory ; this was pointed at either end, and wide in" the middle — not very much unlike the form of some broad, flat fish; over this she wove an open network of narrow thongs of deer- hide, wetted to make it more pliable, and se- curely fastened to the frame; when dry, it I 1 I \ i -m 1 248 THE CAXADIAX CUCSOES. rj**-'' became quite tight, ami resembled a sort of coarse baiaboo-woik such iis yoii see on cane- bottomed chairs and soflis. "And now, Indiana, tell ns what sort of fish you are going to eateh in your ingenious little net," said Louis, who had watched her pro- ceedings with great interest, l^'lie girl shook her head, and laughed till she showed all her white teeth, but quietly proceeded to commence a second frame like the first. Louis put it on his head. No: it could not be meant to be worn there, that was plain. 11(3 turned it round and round. It must be intended for some kind of bird-trap ; yes, that must be it; and he cast an inquiring glance at Indiana. She blushed, shook her head, and gave another of her silent laughs. "Some game like battledore and shuttle- cock," — and snatching up a ^ght bass-wood chip, he began tossing the chip up and catching it on the netted frame. The little squaw was highly amused, but rapidly went on with her work. Louis was now almost angry at the perverse little savage persevering in keeping him in suspense. She would not tell him till the other was done ; then there were to be a pair of these curious articles: and he was forced at last to sit quietly down to watch the proceeding of the yfork. It was night before the two were com a sort of e on cane- sort of tish nious littlo i lior pro. girl shook cd all her corni nonce . could not ^lain. He e intended ,t must be t Indiana. ie another 1 shuttle' ood chip, [iing it on is highly er work. perverse him in he other of these [t last to jg of the ire com THE CAXADIAX CRUSOES. 249 pleted, and furnished with straps and loops. When the last stroke was put to them, the Indian girl knelt down at Hector's feet, and binding them on, pointed to them with a joyous laugh, and said, " Snow-shoe — for walk on snow —good !" The boys had heard of snow-shoes, but had never seen them, and now seemed to understand little of the beneiit to be derived from the use of them. The young Mohawk quickly trans- ferred the snow-shoes to her own feet, and soon proved to them that the broad surface prevented those who wore them from sinking into the deep snow. After many trials Hector began to ac- knowledge the advantage of walking with th»* snow-shoes, especially on the frozen snow on the ice-covered lake. Indiana was well pleased with the approbation that her manufactures met with, and very soon manufactured for " Nee- chee," as they all now called Louis, a similar present. As to Catharine, she declared the snow-shoes made her ankles ache, and that she preferred the mocassins that her cousin Louis made for her. During the long bright days of February they made several excursions on the lake, and likewise explored some of the high hills to the eastward. On this ridge there were few large ti*ees ; but it was thicklv clothed with scrub u ■ '''8 TIIK CAXaDFAX CRUHOKS. ■^»t **Wii,,, oiilvH, slender poplars, and hero and there line j)inea and pieturescpie iVee-g rowing oaks of considerable size and great age — patriarchs, they .night be termed, among the forest growth.''* Over tliis romantic range of hill and dale, freo as the air they bi'cathed, roamed many a galhmt herd of deer, uinnolestcd unless dni'ing certain seasons when the Indians came to hunt over tliese hills. Sur})rised at the dillerent growth of the oaks on this side the plains, Hector could not help expressint^ his astonishment to Indiana, who lold him that it was caused by the custom that her people had had from time immemorial of setting fire to the bushes in the early part of spring. This practice, she said, promoted the growth of the deer-grass, made good cover for the deer themselves, and efFectuaUy prevented the increase of the large timbers. This circum- stance gives a singular aspect to this high ridge of hills when contrasted with the more wooded portions to the westward. P'rom the lake these eastern hills look verdant, and as if covered with tall green fern. In the month of October a rich rosy tint is cast upon the leaves of the scrub oaks by the autumnal frosts, and they present a glowing unvaried crixison of the most glorious I • * One of tliese hoary monnreli!^ of the Oak-hilla still stands at the heivd of the lawn at OukUuuls, formerly the property of. Mr. W. Falkuer. now the rcaideuce of the authoress. THE CANADIAN CHUSOES. 251 tliere ^ne f oaks of archs, they I (lalu, (rco ly a gallant iiig certain hunt over 3nt gruvvtb [ictor could to Indiana, the custom nunemorial ,rly part of motcd the cover for prevented lis circum- high ridge re wooded lake these ered with lober a rich the scrub present a ,t glorious U still stanJa property of. hue, only variegated in spots by a dark feathery evergreen, or a ])atch of light waving po})lar.H turned by the same wizard's wand to goldca vellow. There were many lovely spots, — lofty rounded hills, and deep shady dells, with extended table- land and line lake views; but on th- whole our young folks preferred the oak o[)enings and the beautiful wooded glens of the western side, where they had fixed their home. There was one amusement that they used greatly to enjoy during the cold bright days and moonlight nights of midwinter. This was gli- ding down the frozen snow on the steep side of the dell near the spring, seated on small hand- sleighs, which carried them down with great velocity. Wrapped in their warm furs, with caps fastened closely over their ears, what ca^ed they for the cold? Warm and glowing from head to foot, with cheeks brightened by the delightful exercise, they would remain for hours enjoying the amusement of the snow-slide; the bright frost gemming the ground with myriads of diamonds, sparkling in their hair, or whitening it till it rivalled the snow beneath their feet. Then, when tired out with the exercise, they returned to the shanty, stirred up a blazing fire, till the smoked rafters glowed i i the red light ; spread their simple fare o- stewod rice sweet 'tin i > II I 1 252 THE CANADIAN CRUS0E3. ffi'Ut ^' U't. ened with honey, or maybe a savoury soup of hare or other game ; and then, when warmed and fed, they kneeled together, side by side, and offered up a prayer of gratitude to their Maker and besought his care over them during the dark and silent hours of night. Had these young people been idle in their habits and desponding in their tempers, they must have perished with cold and hunger, in- stead of enjoying many necessaries and even some little luxuries in their lonely forest home. Fortunately they had been brought up in the early practice of every sort of usefulness, to endure every privation with cheerful fortitude ; not, indeed, quietly to sit down and wait for better times, but vigorously to create those better times, by every possible exertion that could be brought into action to assist and ame- liorate their condition. To be up and doing, is the maxim of a Canadian ; and it is this that nerves his arm tc do and bear. The Camidian settler, following in the steps of the old Americans, learns to supply aU his wants \Dy the exercise of his own energy. He brings up his Tan.ily to rely upon their own resources, instead of depending upon his neighbours. The children ot the modern emiofrant, thousfh enjoying a higher degree of civilization and THE CANADI aV CRUSOES. 253 ry soup of m warmed y side, and eir Maker luring the le in their ipers, they lunger, iri- and even )rest home. up in the fubiess, to . fortitude ; d wait for eate those tion that and ame- .xim of a lis arm tc following learns to •f his own rely upon ling upon it, though ition and iitelliger.ce, arising from a liberal education, might not have fared so well under similar cir- cumstances as did our Canadian Crasoes, be- cause, unused to battle with the hardships inci- dental to a life of such privation as they had known, they could not liave brought so much experience, or courage, or ingenuity to their aid. It requires courage to yield to circumstances, as well as to overcome them. Many little useful additions to the interior of their dwelling were made by Hector and Louis during the long winter. They made a smoother and better table than the first rough one that th y put together. They also made a rough partition of split cedars, to form a distinct and separate sleeping-room for the two girls ; but as this division greatly circumscribed their sitting and cooking apartment, they resolved, as soon as the spring came, to cut and draw in logs for putting up a better and larger room to be used as a summer parlour. Indiana and Louis made a complete set of wooden trenchers out of but- ter-nut, a fine hard wood of excellent grain, and less liable to warp or crack than many others. Louis's skill as a carpenter was much greater than that of his cousin. He not only possessed more judgment and was more handy, but he had a certain taste and neatness in finishing his work, however rough his materials and rude his 22 *i • *n ■"■Sn !S 25* THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. |ii 91 »*^*1«^^ ?'■■■' ■< •«« ».. tools. He inherited some of that skill in mechan- ism for which the French have always been remarked. With his knife and a nail he would carve a plum-stone into a miniature basket, with handle across it, all delicately wrought with flowers and checker- Vv^ork. The shell of a butter-nut would be transformed into a boat^ with thwarts, and seats, and rudder ; with sails of bass-wood or birch-bark. Combs he could cut out of wood or bone, so that Catharine could dress her hair, or confine it in braids or bands At will. This was a source of great comfort to her; and Louis was alwaj^s pleased wheu he could in any way contribute to his cousin's happiness. These little arts Louis had been taught by his father. Indeed, the entire distance that their little settlement was from any town or village had necessarily forced their families to depend on their own ingenuity and invention to supply many of their wants. Once or twice a-year they saw a trading fur-merchant, as I before observed ; and those were glorious days for Hector and Louis, who were always on thy alert to render the strangers any service in thei? power, as by that means they sometimes receiveci little gifts from them, and gleaned up valuable information as to their craft as hunters and trappers. And then there were wonderful tales of marvellous feats and hairbreadth escapes to I THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 255 in mechan- ways been 1 he would asket, with 'Ught with hell of a ito a boat, with sails 3 he could irine could s or bands comfort to wheu he is cousin's had been distance any town families nvention or twice lant, as I ous days ys on thv e in theii* receive(i valuable iters and rful tales icapes to listen to, as they sat with eager looks and open i" ears round the blazing log-fire in the old log- house. Now they would in their turns have tales to tell of strange adventures, and all that had befallen them since the first day of their wanderings on the Rice Lake Plains. The long winter passed away unmarked by any very stirring event. The Indians had revisited the hunting-grounds ; but they confined them- selves chiefly to the eastern side of the plains, the lake, and the islands, and did not come near their little dwelling to molest them. The latter end of the month of March presented fine sugar- making weather ; and as they had the use of the big iron pot, they resolved to make maple sugar And some molasses. Long Island was decided upon as the most eligible place : it had the ad- vantage over Maple Island of having a shanty ready built for a shelter during the time they might see fit to remain, and a good boiling- place, which would be a comfort to the girls, us they need not be exposed to the weather during the process of sugaring. The two boys soon cut down some small pines and bass-woods, which they hewed out into sugar-troughs ; In- diana manufactured som^e rough pails of birch- bark ; and the lirst favourable day for the work they loaded up a aand-sleigh with their vessels, ♦!*-^. marched forth over the* ice to the island and, m •J \ , "I m ! 256 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. tapped the trees they thought could yield sap for then- purpose. And many pleasant daya they passed during the sugar-making season. They did not leave the sugar-bush for good till the commencement of April, when the sun and wind beginning to unlock the springs that fed the lake, and to act upon its surface, taught them that it would not long be prudent to remain on the island. The loud booming =iounds that were now frequently ueardof the peni-ap air beneath striving to break forth from its icy prison, were warnings not to be neglected. Openings began to appear, especially at the entrance of the river, and between the islands, and opposite to some of the larger creeks ; blue streams that attracted the water-fowl, ducks, and wild geese, that came, guided by that instinct that never errs, from their abiding-places in the far-off lands; and Indiana knew the signs of the wild birds coming and going with a certainty that seemed almost marvellous to her simple-minded companions. How deliirhtful were the first indications of the coming spring ! How joyously our yo' -ng Crusoes heard the first tapping of the red- lieaded woodpecker, the low, fivrvj,^ Tarbling note of the early song-sparrow, and twittering chirp of the snow-bird, or that neat quakerly- lookiiig bird, that comes to cheer us with the news of sunny days and green buds, the low, tender, THE CAXALIAN CRUSOES. 257 yield sap sant dav3 ig season. r good till e sun and ^s that fed ught them remain on ! that were ir beneath ison, were ngs began ' the river, te to some t attracted hat came, jrrs, from nds ; and s coming id almost )anions. ations of ir yo'-^ng the red- Tarblinar ivittering [uakerlj- Ithe newa I, tender, whispering note of the chickadee, flitting among the pines or in the thick branches of the shore- side trees ! The chattering note of the little striped chitmunk, as it pursued its fellows over the fallen trees, and the hollow sound uf ..he male partridge heavily striking his wings against his sides to attract the notice of the female birds — were among the early spring melodies, for such they seemed to our forest dwellers, and for such they listened with eager ears, for they told them — " That winter, cold winter, was past, And that spring, lovely spring, was approaching at last." They watched for the first song of the robin,* and the full melody of the red thrush ;f the rushing sound of the passenger-pigeon, as flocks of these birds darted above their heads, some- times pausing to rest on the dry limb of some withered oak, or darting down to feed upon the scarlet berries of the spicy winter-green, the acorns that still lay upon the now uncovered ground, or the berries of hawthorn and dogwood that still hung on the bare bushes. The pines were now putting on their rich, mossy, green spring dresses ; the skies were deep blue ; nature, weary of her long state of inaction, seemed vraking into life and light. * Tnrdus migratorins^ or An erican + Turd'is rnelnin.-<. or wood-thrush. robin. tii( I Hit Mi ■« 1 ■« 22^ 258 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. •^^•^^il'-si* f^\-, t. ■ On the plains the snow soon disappears, for the sun and air has access to the earth muca easier than in the close, dense forest ; and Hec- tor and Louis were soon able to move about with axe in hand, to cut the logs for the addi- tion to the house which they proposed making. They also set to work, as soon as the frost was out of the ground, to prepare their little field for the Indian corn. This kept them quite busy Catharine attended to the house, and Indiana went out fishing and hunting, bringing in plenty of small game and fish every day. After they had piled and burned up the loose boughs and trunks that encumbered the space which they had marked out, they proceeded to enclose it with a brush fence, which was done by felling the trees that stood in the line of the field, and letting them fall so as to form the bottom log of tuo fence, which they then made of sufiicient iieight by piling up arms of trees and brush- wood. Perhaps in this matter they were too particular, as there was no fear of "breachy cattle," or any cattle, intruding on the crop ; but Hector maintained that deer and bears were as much to be guarded against as oxen and cows. The little enclosure was made secure from any such depredators, and was as clean as hands could make it, and the two cousins were .sitting on a log, contentedly surveying their THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 259 pears, for rth muca and Hec- ive about the addi- making, frost was ittle field lite busy I Indiana in plenty ^fter they )ughs and hi eh they enclose it jy felling ield, and )m log of sufficient d brush- ■were too ' breachy rop ; but were as d cows, re from ;ikan as lins were g their work, and talking of the time when the f rain was to be put in. It was about the beginning of the second week in ATay, as near as they could guess from the bursting of the forest buds and the blooming of such of the flowers as they were acquainted with. Hector's eyes had fol- lowed the fliixlit of a larii;e ca'jle that now, turning from the lake, soared away majestically towards the east or Oak-hills. But soon his eye was attracted to another object. The loftiest part of the ridge was enveloped in smoke. At first he thought it must be some mist-wj[\iath hovering over its brow ; but soon the dense rolling clouds rapidly spread on each side, and he felt certain that it was from fire, and nothing but fire,* that those dark volumes arose. " Louis, look yonder ! the hills to the eas" are on fire." *' On fire, Hector ? you are dreaming 1" " Nay, but look there !" The hills were now shrouded in one dense, Tolling cloud ; it moved on with fearful rapidity dcwn the shrubby side of the hill, supplied by the dry, withered foliage and deer-grass, which Tvas like stubble to the flames. " It is two miles off, or more," said Louis ; * and the creek will stop its progress long befow * /Appendix I. ai ■4 260 THE CANADIAN CRUSOE.S. ""I'S f ''\ '**;, %, *^'"''**!>' .i.„ ^ n^^'l'. I.. ' it comes near us — and the swamp there, beyond Barc-hill." " The cedars are as dry as tinder ; and as to the creek, it is so narrow, a burning tree fallitig across would convey the lire to this side: be- Bides, when the wind rises, as it always does when the bush is on fire, you know how far the burning leaves will fly. Do you remember when the forest was on fire last spring, how long it continued to burn, and how fiercely it raged 1 It was lighted by the ashes of your father's pipe, whv.4i he was out in the new fallow ; the leaves were dry, and kindled ; and before night the woods were burning for miles." "It was a grand spectacle, those pine-hills, when the fire got in among them," said Louis. " See, see how fast the fires kindle ; that muPu be some fallen pine that they have got hold of; now, look at the lighting up of that hill — is it not grand ?" " If the wind would but change, and blow m the opposite direction I" said Hector, anxiously. "The wind, mon ami, seems to have little hifluence; for as long as the fire finds fuel from the dry bushes and grass, it drives on, even against the wind." As they spoke the wind freshened, and they ^ould plainly see a long line of wicked, bright flames in advance of the dense mass of vapour m THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 2H1 wliicli hung in its rear. On it came, that rolling sea of flame, with inconceivable rapidity, gather- ing strength as it advanced. The demon of destruction spread its red wings to the blast, rushing on v'ith fiery speed ; and soon hill and valley were wrapped in one sheet of flame. *' It must have been the work of the Indians,' said Louis. " We had better make a retreat to the island in case of the fire crossing the valley. We must not neglect the canoe ; if the fire sweeps round by the swamp, it may come upon us unawares, and then the loss of the canoe would prevent escape by the lake. But here are the girls; let us consult them." "It is the Indian burning," said Indiana; " that is the reason there are so few bior trees on that hill; they burn it to make the grass better for the deer." Hector had often pointed out to Louis the appearance of fire having scorched the bark of the trees, where they were at work, but it seemed to have been many years back ; and when they were digging for the site of the root-house* below the bank, which they had just finished, they had met with charred wood, at the depth of six feet below the soil, which must have lain there tiU the earth had accumulated over it ; a period of * Root-houses are built over deep excavations below the reach of the frost, or the roots stored would be spoiled. IH IK V lit 1 J 202 THE CANADIAN CKUS0K3. % *') :!'f many ye.irs must necessarily have passed since the wood had been burned, as it was so much decomposed as to crumble beneath the wooden shovel which thc^y were digging with. All day they watched the progress of that fiery sea whose waves were llame — red, rolling flame. Onward it came, with resistless speed, overpow- ering every obstacle, widening its sj)here oF action, till it formed a perfect semicircle about them. As the night drew on, the splendour of the scene became more apparent, and the path of the fire better defined ; but there was no fear of the conflagration spreading as it had done in the daytime. The wind had sunk, and the copious dews of evening effectually put a stop to the progress of the fire. The children could now gaze in security upon the magniiicent spec- tacle before them, without the excitement pro- duced by its rapid spread during the daytime. They lay down to sleep in perfect security that night, but with the consciousness that, as the breeze sprung up in the morning, they must be on the alert to secure their little dwelling and its contents from the devastation that threatened it. They knew that they had no power to stop its onward course, as they possessed no imple- ment better than a rough wood-shovel, which would be found very ineffectual in opening a trench or turning the ground up, so as to cut off 'Hi TUE CANADIAN Cltl'SOEd. 203 ^cd since so much ) wooden that fiery ng fhune. :)verpovv- [)hero of ;le about II dour of the path ls no fear I done ill and the a stop to en could ent spec- lent pro- daytime, rity that as the ust be mg and eatened to stop imple- which lening a cut off the communication vvitli the dry grass, leaves, and branches, which are the fuel for supplying the fires on the plains. The little clearing on one side the house they thought would be its safeguard, but the fire was advancing on three sides of them. " Let us hold a council, as the Indians do, to consider what is to be done." "I propose," said Louis, "retreating, bag and baggage, to the nearest point of Long Lsland." " My French cousin has well spoken," said Hector, mimicking the Indian mode of speak- ing ; " but listen to the words of the wise. I propose to take all our household stores that are of the most value to the island, and lodge the rest safely in our new root-house, first removing from its neighbourhood all such light, loose mat- ter as is likely to take fire ; the earthern roof will save it from destruction ; as to the shanty, it must take its chance to stand or fall." " The fence of the little clearing will be burned, no doubt. Well, never mind, better that than our precious selves ; and the corn, for- tunately, is not yet sown," said Louis. Hector's advice met with general applause, and the girls soon set to work to secure the property they meant to leave. , It was a fortunate thing that the root-house tSfd been finished, as it formed a secure store- i^ •I iM ,} i^ V 264 THE CANADIAN CKUS0E3. house for tlieir goods, ruul would also be made available as a hiding-plaoo from the Indians, in time of need. The boys carefully scraped away all the combustible matter from its vicinity, and also from the house; but the rapid increase of the lire now warned them to hurry down to join Catharine and the young Mohawk, who hiul gone off to the lake shore with such things aa they required to take withthera. i^ so be made Indians, in iraped away 'icinity, and increase of own to join c, who hail b tbings ajs THE CANADIAN CKUSOE3. 2(35 CIIAPTEK XI. *♦ I know n luko where tlio cool wnvet* break, And softly fall on tlio silver sand, And no stranger intrudes on that solltudo. And no voicoa but oiira disturb the strand." Iitiau SoNO. ^ f^IIE breeze bad sprung up, and bad already -*- brougbt tbe fire down as far as tbe creek. Tbe swamp bad long been on fire, and now tbe flames were leaping among tbe decayed timbers, roaring and crackling among tbe pines, and rusbing to tbe tops of tbe cedars, springing from beap to beap of tbe fallen branches, and filling tbe air witb dense volumes of black and suffo- cating smoke. So quickly did tbe flames ad- vance, tbat Hector and Louis bad only time to pusb off tbe canoe before tbe heights along tbe shore were wrapped in smoke and fire. Many a giant oak and noble pine fell crashing to tbe earth, sending up showers of red sparks as its burning trunk shivered in its fall. Glad to escape from tbe suffocating vapour, tbe boys quickly paddled out to tbe island, enjoying tbe cool, fresh air of tbe lake. Eeposing on tbe grass beneath tbe trees,- they passed the day, sheltered from tho noonday sun, and watched 23 • ':ii » 1 1 : J 1 ^i:.,» I., ' i,* 266 the THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. of tlie fires the sh At progress night the girls slept securely under the canoe, which they raised on one side by means of forked sticks stuck in the ground. It was a grand sight to see the burning plains at night reflected on the water. A thousand flaming torches flickered upon its still surface, to which the glare of a gas-lighted city would have been dim and dull by contrast. Louis and Hector would speculate on the prob- able chances of the shanty escaping from the fire, and of the fence remaining untouched. Of the safety of the root-house they entertained no fear, as the grass was already springing green on the earthen roof; and below they had taken every precaution to secure its safety, by scraping up the earth near it.* Catharine lamented for the lovely spring- flowers that would be destroyed by the fire. " We shall have neither huckleberries nor strawberries this summer," she said, mournfully ; * Many a crop of grain and comfortable homestead lias been saved by turning a furrow round the fiekl ; and great conflagra- tions have been effectually stopped by men beating the fire out with spadei^, and liocing up the fresh earth so as to cut otf all communication with the dry roots, grass, and leaves that feed its onward progress. Water, even could it be got, which is often impossible, is not near so effectual in stopping the pr-*- gross of fire ; even women and little children can assist iii aacli emcrgencicB. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 267 •re At 3 Ciinoe. eaus of ig plains liousand surface, ,y would tlie prob- Tom the Led. Of ained no ig green ad taken scraping • spring- fire. Ties nor rnfully ; d has been conflngra- le fire out cut off ali that feed which is g the pr-i- ist ill aacb " and the pretty roses and bushes will be scorched, and the ground black and dreary." " The lire passes so rapidly over that it does not destroy many of the forest trees, only the dead ones are destroyed ; and that, you know, leaves more space for the living ones to grow and thrive in," said Hector. " I have seen, the year after a fire has run in the bush, a new and fresh set of plants spring up, and even some that looked withered recover; the earth is renewed and manured by the ashes ; and it is not so great a misfortune as it at first appears." " But how bl/^.ck and dismal the burnt pine- woods look for years I" said Louis. " I do not think there is a more melancholv sio-ht in life than one of those burnt pine- woods. There it stands, year after year, the black, branchless trees pointing up to the blue sky, as if crying for vengeance against those that kindled the fires." " They do, indeed, look ugly," said Catharine ; " yet the girdled ones look very nearly as ill."* At the end of two days the fii'es had ceased to rage, though the dim smoke- wreaths to the west- ward showed where the work of destruction was fiiill going on. • As there was no appearance of any Indians * The girdled pines are killed by barking ttem round, to kcUitutc the clearing. 1*. |i 1.. .' themselves wooden trowels, with which they j-aised the hills for the seed. The corn planted, they next turned their attention to cutting house-logs ; those which they had prepared had been burned up ; so they had their labour to begin again. The two girls proved good helps at the rais- ing ; and in the course of a few weeks they had the comfort of seeing a more commodious dwell- ing than the former one put up. The finishing of this, with weeding the Indian corn, renewing the fence, and fishing, and trapping, and shooting partridges and ducks and pigeons, fully occu- pied their time this summer. The fruit season was less abundant this year than the previous one. The fire had done this mischief, and they had to go far a-field to collect fruits during the summer months. It so happened that Indiana had gone out early one morning with the boys, and Catharine was alone. She had gone down to the spring" for water, and on her return was surprised at the sight of a squaw and her family of three half-grown lads, and an innocent little brown papoose.* In their turn the strangers seemed equally astonished at Catharine's appearance. * An Indian biiby ; but " papooso" is not an Indian word. \t is probably derived from the Indian imitation of th© word THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 271 licli they 1 planted, cutting Dareci had L labour to b the rais- ; they had ous dwell- 3 finishing , renewing d shooting ully occu- 'uit season 3 previous and they uring the gone out iCatharine ;he spring" -prised at of three tie brown 's seemed larance. Indian word. )f th© word The smiling aspect and good-natured Jaugh of the female, however, soon reassured tlie fright- ened girl, and she gladly gave her the water which she had in her birch dish, on her signi- fying her desire for drink. To this Catharine added some berries, and dried venison, and a bit of maple sugar, which was received with grate- ful looks by the boys; she patted the brown' baby, and was glad when the mother released it from its wooden cradle, and fed and nursed it. The squaw seemed to notice the difference be- tween the colour of her young hostess's fair skin and her own swarthy hue ; for she often took her hand, stripped up the sleeve of her dress, and compared her arm with her own, uttering exclamations of astonishment and curiosity ; possibly Catharine was the first of a fair-skinned race this poor savage had ever seen. After her meal was finished, she set the birchen dish on the floor, and restrapping tlie papoose in its cradle prison, she slipped the bass wood-bark rope over her forehead, and silently signing to her sons to follow her, she departed. That evening a pair of ducks were found fastened to the wooden latch of the door, a silent offerino^ of gratitude for the refreshment that had been afibrded to this Indian women and her children. Indiana thought, from Catharine's description, that these were Indians with whom she was ac- 111 •vifl 'Y 1 1 272 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. quainted; she spent some days in watching the lake and the ravine, lest a larger and more for- midable party should be near. The squaw, she said, was a widow, and went by the name of Mother Snow-storm, from having been lost in the woods, when a little child, during a heavy storm of snow, and nearly starved to death. She was a gentle, kind woman, and, she believed, would not do any of them hurt. Her sons were good hunters; and though so young, helped to support their mother, and were very good to her and the little one. I must now pass over a, considerable interval of time, with merely a brief notice that the crop of corn was carefully harvested, and proved abundant, and a source of great comfort. The rice was gathered and stored, and plenty of game and fish laid by, with an additional store of honey. The Indians, for some reason, did not pay their accustomed visit to the lake this season. Indiana said they might be engaged with war among some hostile tribes, or had gone to other himting-grounds. The winter was unusully mild, and it was long before it set in. Yet the spring following was tardy, and later than usual. It was the latter end of May before vegetation had made any very decided progress. The little log-house presented a neat and co»^ jhing the nore for- uaw, she name of n lost in a heavy ath. She believed, sons were helped to lod to her e interval t the crop d proved Drt. The of game store of not pay s season, with war to other unusully Yet the lan usual, egetatiou and cott^ THE CANADIAX CKl'SOES. 275 Portable appearance, both within and without. Indiana had woven a handsome mat of bass bark for the floor; Louis and Hector had fur- nished it with very decent seats and a table, rough, but still very respectably consti'ucted, considering their onl}^ tools were a tomahawk, a knife, and wooden wedges for splitting the wood into slabs. These Louis afterwards smoothed with great care and patience. Their bedsteads were furnished with thick, soft mats, woven by Indiana and Catharine, from rushes which they cut and dried ; but the little squaw herself pre- ferred lying on a mat or deer-skin on the floor before the ^re, as she had been accustomed. A new field had been enclosed, and a fresh crop of corn planted, and was now green and flourishing. Peace and happiness dwelt within the log-house; — but for the regrets that ever attended the remembrance of all they had left and lost, no cloud would have dimmed the serenity of those who dwelt beneath its humble roof The season of flowers had again arrived, — the earth, renovated by the fire of the former year, bloomed with fresh beauty, — June, with its fra- grant store of roses and lilies, was now far ad- vanced, — the anniversary of that time when they had left their beloved parents' roofs, to become sojourners in the lonely wilderness, had retura- 'I nil 274 THE CANADTAN" CRUSOES. % '"^-m-i: ed. Much they felt tliey bad to be grateful for. Many privations, it is true, and much anxiety they had felt^ but they had enjoyed blessings above all that they could have ex- pected, that they might, like the Psalmist when recounting the escapes of the people of God, have said, — "Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness, and the wonders that he doeth for the children of men." And now they declared no srreater evil could befall them than to lose one of their little party, for even Indiana had become as a dear and beloved sister ; her gentleness, her gratitude and faithful trusting love, seemed each day to increase. ISTow, indeed, she was bound to them by a yet more sacred tie, for she knelt to the same God, and acknow- ledged, with fervent love, the mercies of her Redeemer. She had made great progress in learning? their lanf]fuaQfe, and had also tauojht her friends to speak and understand much of her own tongue ; so that they were now no longer at a loss to converse with her on any subject. Thus was this Indian girl united to them in bonds of social and Christian love. Hector, Louis, and Indiana had gone over the hills to follow the track of a deer which had paid a visit to the young corn, now sprouting and showing symptoms of shooting up to blossom. Catharine usually preferred staying at home, THE CANADIAN CIlUS0Er4. 275 taught her 3f her own and preparing the meals against tlieir return. She had gathered some fine ripe strawberries, whieh, with pU^nty of stewed rice, Indian meal cake, and maple sugar, was to make their dinner. She was weary and warm, for the day had been hot and sultry. Seating herself on the threshold of the door, she leaned her back against the door- post, and closed her eyes. Perhaps the poor child's thouo'hts were wanderin^^ back to her far-off, never-to-be-forgotten honie, or she might be thinking of the hunters and their game. Sud- denly a vague, undefinable feeling of dread stole over her mind: she heard no steps, she felt no breath, she ^w no form ; but there was a strange consciousness that she was not alone — that some unseen being was near, some eye was upon her. I have heard of sleepers starting from sleep the inost profound when the noiseless hand of the assassin has been raised to destroy them, as if the power of the human eye could be felt through the closed lid. Thus fared it with Catharine : she felt as if some unseen enemy was near her; and, spring- ing to her feet, she cast a wilc^ troubled glance around. No living being met her eye ; and, ashamed of her cowardice, she resumed her seat. The tremulous cry of her little grey squirrel, a pet which she had tamed and taught to run t li! )|' 270 Tni'] (.'AXADIAX CHl'SOKS. lo lior and nestle in her borioni, attracted her attention. *' What aileth tlice, wee dearie?" she said, tenderly, as the timid little creature cre[)t, trein- bliniif, to her breast. "Thv mistress has seared thee by her o\vn Ibulish fears. See now, th^M'e is neither catamount nor weasel here to seize thee, silly one;" and as she s[)()ke she raised her bead, and flung back the thick clusters of soft fair hair that shaded her eyes. The deadly glare of a pair of dark eyes lixed upon her met her terrified gaze, gleaming with sullen ferocity from the angle of the door-post, whence the u})})cr part of the face alone was visible^ partly con- cealed by a mat of tangled, shaggy, black hair. Paralyzed with fear, the poor girl neither spoke nor moved ; she uttered no cry ; but pressing her hands tightly across her breast, as if to still the loud beating of her heart, she sat gazing upon that fearful appearance, while, with stealthy ptep, the savage advanced from his lurking-place, keeping, as he did so, his eyes riveted upon hers, with such a gaze as the wily serpent is said to fascinate his prey. His hapless victim moved not ; whither could she flee to escape one whose fleet foot could so easily have overtaken her in the race? where conceal herself from him whose wary eye fixed upon her seemed to deprive her of all vital energy ? TlIK CANADIAN CUl'.SOKS. OV7 acted her she said, ('[)t, trein- Kis scared ^v, tli'M'o is to seize raised her u's of soft tie deadly •n her met iw ferocity ; the upper lartly con- )lack hair, her spoke ^essingher o still the zing upon stealthy :ing-place, eted upon serpent is ess victim escape one overtaken ' from him to deprive Uttering that singular, expressive ^'MUui'al which seems with the; Indian to answer the pup p.ose of (ivery nihcir (}X(^laination, he advanced, and taking th(^ gii'l's iee-cold hands in his, tightly hound thcni with a thong of di*er*s hide, and led her uni'i^sisliiii'lv awav. ]>v a eii'cuitous path through the ravine tliey reacluxl the fo(;t of the mount, whcn^ lay a bircii canoe, rocking gently on the wat<3rs, in whicli a niiddlu-aged female and a young girl were seated. ^I'hc females asked no questions, and expresscnl no word indicative of curiosity or sur[)rise, as the strong arm of the Indian lifted his captive into the canoe, and made signs to the elder squaw to push from the shore. W^hen all had taken their places, the wonian, catching up a padiAJo from the bottom of the little vessel, stood up, and with a few rapid strokes sent it skimming over the lake. The miserable captive, overpowered with the sense of her calamitous situation, bowed down her head upon her knees, and concealing her agitated face in her garments, wept in silent agony. Visions of horror presented themselves to her bewildered brain — all that Indiana had described of the cruelty of this vindictive race came vividly before her mind. Poor child, what miserable thoughts were thine during that brief voyage I 24 i 1 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 ^1i& U^ u m l£ ii m I.I ■wUi. 12.0 1.25 1 M 1'-^ '^' Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 weST MAIN STRfET WIBSTER.N.Y. MSSO (716) S73-4S03 p 278 IHE CANADIAN CKUSOES. Had the Indians ;ds() captured her friends? or was she alone to be the victim of their vcii- geanc(3? What could be the feelings of thoso bolov(^d ones on returning to their home and finding it desol;ite! Was there no hope of le- ](.'as(;? As th(\se ideas chased each other through lier agitated mind, sh(3 raised her eyes all stream- ing with tears to the faces of the Indian and his companions with so piteous a look, that any heart but the stoical one of an Indian would have softened at its sad appeal ; but no answering glance of sympathy met hers, no eye gave back its silent look of pity — not a nerve nor a muscKj moved the cold .apathetic features of the Indians, and the woe-stricken girl again resumed her melancholy attitude, burying her face in her heaving bosom to hide its bitter emotions from tiie heartless strangers. She was not fully aware that it is part of the Indian's education to hide the inward feelings of the heart, to check all those soft and tender emotions which distinguish the civilized man from the savage. It does indeed need the softening influence of tliat powerful Spirit, which was shed abroad into the world to turn the hearts of the dis- obedient to the wisdom of the just, to b.^ak down the strongholds of unrighteousness, and to teach man that he is by nature the child of THE CANADIAN CKL'SOKS. 279 T friends? their ven- s of those home and ope ol' le- ntil rough iill St rear n- xn .'ind liis that any ian would answerinL? gave baek r a mnsele e Indians, unied her ce in her tions frora wrath arid victim of sin, and that in liis unre generated nature his whole mind is at enmity with God and his fellow-rnen, and that in his flesii dwelleth no gO(jd thing. And the Indian has aeknowhMlged that powei", — lie has east hirf idols of cruelty and revenge, those virtues on which he prided himself in the blindness of his heart, to the moles and the bats; he has bowed and adored at the foot of the Cross; — but it was not sc in the days whereof I have spoken.* * AppeDdiz K. i •art of the d feelings nd tender ized man fluence of ;d abroad f the dis- to bi^eak iness, and J child of i I 280 THE CANADIAN CRUS0E3. CHAPTER XTT. fe r"'^*nfc ** Must this sweet new-blown rose fiiul such a winter Beforo her sprinjj be ptist?" Ueal'mont and Flictcher. '^r^HE little bark touched the stony point of ■^ Long Island. The Indian lifted his weep- ing prisoner from the canoe, and motioned to her to move forward along the narrow path that led to the camp, about twenty yards higher up the bank, where there was a little grassy spot enclosed with shrubby trees — the squaws tarried at the lake shore to bring up the paddles and secure the canoe. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of an enemy, but doubly so when that enemy is a stranger to the language in which we would plead for mercy — whose God is not our God, nor his laws those by which we ourselves are governed. Thus felt the poor captive as she stood alone, mute with terror, among the half- naked dusky forms with which she now found herself surrounded. She cast a hurried glance round that strange assembly, if by chance her eye might rest upon some dear familiar face, but she saw not the kind but grave face of Hector, THE CAXADTAX CRL'SOKS. 281 nor met the briirlit spnrklini; eye of lie r cousin Lonis, nor the soft, subdued, pensive r(\atures of the Indian (.drl, her adopted sister — slie stood alone among those wild, iiloomy-l(>okiutive, and with a snnle that seemed to light, up her whole face she raist.'d her from her pros- ti'ate position, laid her hand uj)on her young head, and with an expivssion of g(K)d-humoured surprise lifteil the flowing tresses of her sunny liair and spread them over the back of her own swarthv hain] ; then, as if anmstid bv the striking contiast, she shook down her own jett\'-black hair and twined a tress of it with one of the fair-haired girl's — then laughed till her teeth ghone like pearls within her red lips. Many were the exclamations of childish wonder that broke from the other females, as they compared the snowy arm of the stranger with their owu dusky skins ; it was plain that they had no inten- tion of harming her, and by degrees distrust and dread of her singular companions began in some measure to subside. The squaw motioned her to take a seat on a mat beside her, and gave her a handful of parched rice and some deer's flesh to eat ; but Catharine's heart was too heavy ; she was suf- fering from thirst, and on pronouncing the Indian word for water, the young girl snatched up a piece of birch-bark from the floor of the tent, and gathering the corners together, ran to ti. II I m 284 TIIK ^^AN'ADIAN' CKl'SOKS. r'^->i the lake, and D'^n returned with water in this most j)i'iniitive drinking vessel, wliieli she held to the lips of h«;r guest, and she seemed amused by the long deep draught with whieh Catharine slaked her thirst ; and something like a gleam of lioj)e eanie over her mind as she marked tlie look of kindly feeling with whieh she eaught the young Indian girl regarding her, and she stnn'o to overcome the choking sensation that would from time to time rise to her ihi'oat, as she fluctuated between hope and fear. The position of the Indian camp was so placed that it was quite hidden from the shore, and neither could Catharine see the mouth of the ravine, nor the steep side of the mount that her brothers were accustomed to ascend and descend in their visits to the lake shore, nor had she any means of makiniiC a signal to them even if she had seen them on the beach. The long, anxious, watchful night passed, and soon after sunrise, while the morning mists still hung over the lake, the canoes of the Indians were launched, and long before noon they were in the mouth of the river. Catharine's heart sunk within her as the fost receding shores of the lake showed each minute fainter in the distance. At midday they halted at a fine bend in the river, wdiere a small open place and a creek flowing d )wn through the woods afforded them TIIK CANADIAN CHISOKS. 285 iter in tills ;li she held umI amused 1 Catliuriiie }i gleam of narked tlu3 caugiit the I she strove that would jat, as she he position that it was ither coukl ne, nor the t)thers were their visits means of bad seen massed, and mists still le Indians they were ne's heart ores of the e distance, nd in the I a creek rded them cool water; anr before lu^r they aske(l no liore than any other part they had passed throu/rh smce they had left the entrance at the B>vy^, Lake. * Formerly known as Whitla's K^j-ics, uow the aite of thft Locks. t The little luko about a milo >^e!ow' !P/»t«»rVri'"frh ^n** ^b(>v» Iho Locks, formerly girt in by W'^ode of pin« ftod beeob aid ;naple, now entirely divested of trees and A>nnii w pnn oi tti* suburbs of the town. 296 THE CANADIAN CKUS0E3. Catharine becarno interested in the change (»f Bcenery ; her eye dwelt vvitli deliglit on the forms of glorious s))rea(liiig oaks and lofty pines, green clilf-like sliores and low, wooded islands; while as they proceeded the sound of ra|)id flow- ing waters met her ear, and soon tlie white and broken eddies rushing alorjg with itn})etuous course were seen by the light of the moon; and while she was wondering if the canoes were to stem those rapids, at a signal from the old chief, the little fleet was pushed to shore on a low flat of emerald verdure nearly opposite to the last island.* Here, under the shelter of some beautiful spreading black oaks, the women prepared to set up their wigwams. They had brought the poles and birch-bark covering from the en- campment below, and soon all was bustle and business — unloading the canoes, and raising the tents. Even Catharine lent a willing hand to assist the females in bringing up the stores, and sundry baskets containing fruits and other small wares. She then kindly attended to the Indian children, certain dark-skinned babes, who, bound upon their wooden cradles, were either set up against the trunks of the trees, or swung to some lowly-depending branch, there to remain • Over the Otoniibee, just between tlierapids niul the island, ft noble and substuutiul bridge has been built. change of ht on the lofty pines, m1 islands; rapid flow- white and ini|)etuons noon ; and es were to B old chief, 1 a low flat to tlie last I beautiful repared to •ought the ri the en- 3ustle and •aising the g hand to stores, and )ther small ;he Indian ho, bound ler set up swung to to remain lul the island, THK CAN'ADIAX CHUSOES. 297 helpless and uncomplaining spectators of the Bcene. Catharine thouglit these Indian babes were almost as much to be pitied as herself, only that they were unconscious of their imprisoned state, having fiom birtii been used to no better treat- ment, and moreover they were sure to be re- warded by the tender caresses of living mothers when the season of refreshment and repose ar- rived; but she, alas! was friendless and alone, an orphan girl, reft of father, mother, kindn^l, and friends. One Father, one Friend, poor Catharine, thou hadst, even He — the Father of the fatherless. That night when the women and children were sleeping, Catharine stole out of the wig- wam, and climbed the precipitous bank beneath the shelter of which the lodges had been erected. She found herself upon a grassy plain, studded with majestic oaks and pines, so beautifully grouped that they might have been planted by the hand of taste upon that velvet turf. It was a delightful contrast to those dense dark forests through which for so many miles the waters of the Otonabee had flowed on monotonously ; here it was all wild and free, dashing along like a restive steed rejoicing in its liberty, uncurbed and tameless. Yes, here it was beautiful ! Catharine gazed \ J' 'I t I 298 THE CANADIAN CULSOES. ^^ -.■"4 %i with joy upon the rushing river, and felt her own heart expand as she marked its rapid course, as it bounded murmuring and fretting over its rocky bed. " Happy, glorious waters ! you are not subject to the power of any living creature ; no eanoe can ascend those surging waves; I woukl that I, too, like thee, were free to pursue my onward way — how soon would I flee away and be at rest !" Such thoughts per- haps might have passed through the mind of the lonely captive girl, as she sat at the foot of one giant oa^, and looked abroad over those moon-lit waters, till, oppressed by the over- whelming sense of the utter loneliness of the scene, the timid girl with faltering step hurried down once more to the wigwams, silently crept to the mat where her bed was spread, and soon forgot all her woes and wanderings in deep tranquil sleep. Catharine wondered that the Indians, in erecting their lodges, always seemed to prefer the low, level, and often swampy grounds by the lakes and rivers in preference to the higher and more healthy elevations. So disregardful are they of this circumstance, that they do not hesitate to sleep where the ground is saturated with moisture. They will then lay a temporary floorin"- of cedar or anv other bark beneath their feet, rather than remove the tent a few THE CANADIAN ClU\SOES. 299 i felt ber its rapid d fretting IS waters ! my living e suroinof o o were free 1 would I iglits per- niind of le foot of ver tbose die over- ss of the hurried itly crept and soon in deep iians, in o prefer unds bj e higher egardful Y do not atu rated nporarj beneath a few feet higher up, wlicre a drier soil may always be found. This either arises from stupidity or indolence, perhaps fi-om both, but it is no doubt the cause of much of the sickness that prevails among them. With his feet stretched to the (ire the Indian cares for nothing else when re- posing in his wigwam, and it is useless to urge die improvement that might be made in his comfort ; he listens with a face of apathy, and utters his everlasting guttural, which saves him the trouble of a more rational reply. "Snow-bird" informed Catharine that the lodges would not again be removed for some time, but that the men would hunt and fish, while the squaws pursued their domestic labours. Catharine perceived that the chief of the la- borious part of the work fell to the share of the females, who were very much more industrious and active than their husbands; these, when not out hunting or fishing, were to be seen re- posing in easy indolence under the shade of the trees, or before the tent fires, giving themselves little concern about any thing that was going on. Tiie squaws were gentle, humble, and submis- sive ; they bore without a murmur pain, labour, hunger, and fatigue, and seemed to perform every task with patience and good humour. Tliev made the canoes, in which the men sometimes assisted them, pitched the tents, con- % 800 THR CAN A nr AX CIU'SOES. S3*' ■t vortc'cl tli(3 skins of the luiimals which the men shot into clothes, cooked the victuals, manu- factured baskets of cverv kind, wove mats, dvcd the quills of the porcupine, sewed tlic mocassins, and in short performed a thousand tasks which it would be dillicult to enumerate. Of the ordinary household work, such as is ■ familiar to European females, they of course knew nothing; they had no linen to wash or iron, no floors to clean, no milking of cows, nor churninf' of butter. Their carpets were fresh cednr boughs spread upon the ground, and only renewed when they became offensively dirty from the accumulation of fish-bones and other offal, which are care- lessly flung down during meals. Of furniture they had none, their seat the ground, their table the same, their beds mats or skins of animals, — Buch were the domestic arrangements of the In- dian camp.* In the tent to which Catharine belonged, which was that of the widow and her sons, a greater degree of order and cleanliness pre- vailed than in any other, for Catharine's natural love of neatness and comfort induced her to strew the floor with cedar or hemlock every * Much improvement lias taken place of late years in the domestic economy of tlie Indians, and some of their dwellings are doau uud ueut even for Europeans. THE CANADIAN CRL'SOES. 801 ;h the men ilay or two, and to sweep roun*! t ic front (;f tho lis, manu- lodge, removing a I unscein y objects from its mats, dyed vicinitv. She never failed to wash herself in mocassins, the river, and arrange her hair with the comb iscs which that Louis had made fl)r her; and took great care of the litt e child, w lic i she \ept clean and such as is well fed. S le loved this little creature, for it of cc)urse was soft and gent e, meek and playful as*a little wash or equirrel, and the Indian mot lers all looked 'cows, nor with kinder eyes upon the white maiden, for the loving manner in which she tended their ghs spread when tlicv children. The heart of woman is seldom cold to those who cherish their oll'spring, and Catha- iimulation rine began to experience the truth, that the are care- exercise of those human charities is equally 1 ' furniture beneficial to those who give and those that re- I their table ceive ; these things fall upon the heart as dew mimals, — upon a thirsty soil, giving and creating a ) of the In- blessing. But we will leave Catharine for short season, among the lodges of the Indiana, * ' 1! 1 belonf^ed, and return to Hector and Louis. r« O 1 her sons, 26 1 ness pre- I's natural ;d her to ck every ^oars in the ir dwellings * ] 802 THE CANADIAN rilUSOES. CHAPTER XIV. P>i* "W ** Cold and forsaken, dostituto of friends, And all good (.'omforts clso, unless nomo tioe Wlioao spcecliloss charity doth better ours, With which the bitter cast-winds nuido their sport And sang through hourly, hath invited thee To shelter half u day. Shall she be thuH, And I draw in soft slumbers ?" Bkaumont and Fletcher. XT was near sunset before Hectpr and hh cousin returned on the evening of the eventfu day that had found Catharine a prisoner or Long Island. They had met with good succes? in hunting, and brought home a fine half-grown fawn, fat and in good order. They were sur- prised at finding the fire nearly extinguished, and no Catharine awaiting tlieir return. There, it is true, was the food that she had prepared for them, but she was not to be seen ; sup- posing that she had been tired of waiting for ihem, and had gone out to gather strawberries, they did not at first feel very anxious, but ate some of the rice and honey, for they were hungry with long fasting ; and taking some Indian moal cake in their hands, they went out to call her in, but no trace of her was visible, They now became alarmed, fearing that she had roe S leir sport ice i Fletcher. )r and hh he eventfu irisoner or )od succes? half-grown were sur* inguished, There, prepared een ; sup- aiting for iwberries, s, but ate tiey were ing some went out IS visible, t she had THE CAXAblAX CUUSOES. 303 Bet ofT by herself to seek then), and had missed her way home again. They hurried baek to ih(3 Happy Ynllcy — she was not there; to Pine-tree P(;int — no trace of her there; to the edge of the mount that over- looked the lake — no, she was not to be seen ; night found them still unsuccessful in their search. Sometimes they fancied that she liad seated herself beneath some tree and fallen asleep; but no one imagined the true cause, having seen nothing of the Indians. Again they retraced their steps baek to the house; but they found her not there. They continued their unavailing search till the moon setting left them in darkness, and they laid down to rest, but not to sleep. The first streak of dawn saw them again hurrying to and fro, calling in vain upon the name of the loved and lost companion of their wanderings. Desolation had fallen upon their house, and the evil which of all others they had most feared, had happened to them. Indiana, whose vigilance was more untiring, for she yielded not so easily to grief and despair, now returned with the intelligence that she had discovered the Indian trail, through the big ravine to the lake shore ; she had found the remains of a wreath of oak leaves which had been woven by Catharine, and probably 304 TIIK CANADIAN CRUSOErt. I u been about her hair; and she had seen the mark of feet, Indian feet, on the soft chiy, at the edge of the hdve, and the farrowing of the shingles by the pushing off of a canoe. It was evident that she had been taken away from her home by these people. Poor Louis gave way to transports of grief and despair; he knew the wreath, it was such as Catharine often made for herself, and Mathilde, and petite Louise, and !NLarie; his mother had taught her to make them ; they were linked together by the stalks, and formed a sort of leaf chain. The remem- brance of many of their joyous days of child- hood made Louis weep sorrowful tears for happy days, never to return again; he placed the torn relic in his breast, and sadly turned away to hide his grief from Hector and the Indian girl. Indiana now proposed searching the island for further traces, but advised wariness in so doing. They saw, however, no smoke nor canoes. The Indians had departed while they were searching the ravines and flats round Mount Ararat, and the lake told no tales. The following day they ventured to land on Long Island, and on going to the north side saw evident traces of a temporary encampment having beeri made. This was all they could do, further search was unavailing; as they found II the mark it the edire le shinirles as evident her home e way to knew the 1 made for ouise, and to make the stalks, le remem- s of child- tears for he placed lly turned and the he island less in so noke nor hile they its round les. The on Long side saw jampment could do, ey found THE CAXADIAX CHUSOES. 305 no trace of any violence having been committed, they still cherished hopes that no personal harm had been done to the poor captive. It was Indiana's opinion that though a prisoner she was unhurt, as the Indians rarely killed women and children, unless roused to do so by some signal act on the [)art of their enemies, when an exterminating spirit of revenge induced them to kill and spare not; but where no offence had been offered, they were not likely to take the life of an helpless, unoffending female. The Indian is not cruel for the wanton love of blood, but to gratify revenge for some injury done to himself, or to his tribe; but it was difficult to still the terrible apprehensions that haunted the minds of Louis and Hector. They spent much time in searching the northern shores and the distant islands, in the vain hope of finding her, as they still thought the camp might have been moved to the opposite side of the lake. Inconsolable for the loss of their beloved companion. Hector and Louis no longer took interest in what was going on ; they hardly troubled themselves to weed the Indian corn, in which they had taken such great delight ; all now seemed to them flat, stale, and unprofitable; they wandered listlessly to and fro, silent and Bad ; the sunshine had departed from their little •>«• 26 806 THE CANADIAN CIU'SOES. 2^ i**a>^ W ,*^»j ' m ':«(. ft* dwelling; they ate little, and talked less, each seemed absorbed in his own painful reveries. In vain the gentle Indian girl strove to revive their drooping spirits; they seemed insen- sible to her attentions, and often left her for hours alone. They returned one evening about the usual hour of sunset, and missed their meek, uncomplaining guest from the place she was wont to occupy. They called, but there was none to reply — she too was gone. They hur- ried to the shore just time enough to see the canoe diminishing to a mere speck upon the waters, in the direction of the mouth of the river; they called to her in accents of despair, to return, but the wind wafted back no sound to their ears, and soon the bark was lost to sight, and they sat them down disconsolately on the shore. " What is she doing ?" said Hector ; " this is cruel to abandon us thus." " She was going up the river, with the hope of bringing us some tidings of Catharine," said Louis. " How came you to think that such is her in- tention ?" " I heard her say the other day that she would go and bring her back, or die." " What 1 do you think she would risk the I less, each reveries. strove to jmed inseii- eft her for ning about their meek, ;e she was there was They hur- to see the : upon the uth of the of desjDair, 10 sound to ►st to sight, ely on the r; "this is ii the hope trine," said is her in- she would risk the THE CANADIAN CRUS0E3. 807 vengeonce of the old chief whose life she at- tempted to take ?" " She is a brave girl ; she does not fear pain or death to serve those she loves !'* " Alas 1" said Hector, " she will perish miser* ably and to no avail ; they would not restore our dear sister, even at the sacrifice of Indiana's life." *' How can she, unprotected and alone, dare such perils ? Wliy did she not tell us ? we would have shared her danger." " She feared for our lives more than for her own ; that poor Indian girl has a noble heart. I care not now what befalls us ; we have lost ,all that made life dear to us," said Louis gloom- ily, sinking his head between his knees. " Hush, Louis ; you are older than I, and ought to bear these trials with more courage. It was our own fault, Indiana's leaving us ; we left her so much alone to pine after her lost companion ; she seemed to think that we did not care for her. Poor Indiana ! she must have felt lonely and sad." " I tell you what we will do, Hec, — make a log canoe. I found an old battered one lying on the shore, not far from Pine-tree Point. We have an axe and a tomahawk, — what should hinder us from making one like it?" •* True ! we will set about it to-morrow,'' i\ ni i' '^'-^v '■"•%...'"': ' r( 1! ■*■ ' 808 THE CAXADIAX CRUSOPZS. *' I wish it were morning, thiit we might set to work to cut down a good pine ft>r the purpose. " As soon a& it is done, we will go up the river; any thing is better thnn this dreadful suspense and inaction." The early dawn saw the two cousins busily engaged chopping at a tree of suitable dimen- sions, and they worked hard all that day, and the next, and tlie next, before the canoe was hollowed out ; and then, owing to their inexpe- rience and the bluntness of their tools, their first attempt proved abortive ; it was too heavy at one end, and did not balance well in the water. Louis, who had been quite sure of success, was disheartened ; not so Hector. " Do not let us give it up ; my maxim is per- severance; let na try again, and again — aye! and a third and a fourth time. I say, never give it up ; that is the way to succeed at last." " You have ten times my patience, Hec." "Yes! but you are more ingenious than I, and are excellent at starting an idea." " We are a good pair then for partnership." " We will begin anew ; and this time I hope we shall profit bv our past blunders." " Who would imagine that it is now more than a month since we lost Catharine !" "I know it, a long, long,- weary month," replied Louis, and be struck his axe sharply THE CANADIAN CKrSOES. 309 light set to ! purpose, go up the s dreadful lins busily 3le dimen- t day, and canoe was ■ir inexpe- , their first > heavy at the water. jf success, ira is per- ;ain — aye ! never give ist." Hec." IS than I, ership." ne I hope low more month," e sharply into the bark of the pine as he spoke, and remained silent for some minutes. The boys, wearied by chopping down the tree, rested from their work, and sat down on the side of the condemned canoe to resume their con- versation. Suddenly Louis grasped Hector's arm, and pointed to a bark canoe that appeared making for the westernmost point of the island. Hector started to his feet exclaiming, " It is Indiana returned 1" " Nonsense ! Indiana ! — it is no such thing. Jjook you, it is a stout man in a blanket coat." "The Indians?" asked Hector inquiringly. " I do not think he looks like an Indian ; but let us watch. What is he doing?" " Fishing. See now, he has just caught a fine l)ass — another — he has great luck — now he is pushing the canoe ashore." " That man does not move like an Indian — hark ! he is whistling. I ought to know that tune. It sounds like the old chanson my father used to sing;" and Louis, raising his voice, began to sing the words of an old French Cana- dian song, which we will give in the English as we heard it sung by an old lumberer. * Down by those banks where the pleasant waters flow, Throiigli the wild woods we'll wander, and we'll chase th« buffalo. And we'll chas<^ the buffalo." •i 810 THE CANADIAN CKUSO/:S. "Hush, Louis I jou will bring the man over to us," said Hector. " The very thing I am trying to do, mon ami. This is our country, and that may be his ; but we are lords here, and two to one — so I think he will not be likely to treat us ill. I am a man now, and so are you, and he iu but one, so he must mind how he affronts V£,'' replied Louis laughing. " I wish the old fellow T/as inclined to be sociable. Hark, if he is not singing now ! aye, and the very chorus of the old sorg," — and Louis raised his voice to its highest pitch as he re- peated, " ' Through the wild woods we'll wander, And we'll chase the buffalo — And we'll cliase the buffalo.' .4* » What a pity I have forgotten the rest of that dear old song ! I used to listen with open ears to it when I was a boy. I never thought to hear it again, and to hear it here of all places in the world 1" *' Come, let us go on with our work," said Hector, with something like impatience in his voice ; and the strokes of his axe fell once moi a in regular succession on the log; but Louis's eye w^as still on the mysterious fisher, whom he could discern lounging on the grass and man over mon ami. ; his; but I think he am a man 3ne, so he ied Louis led to be low! aye, and Louis as he re- t of that 3pen ears ought to places in rk," said ze in his nee moi a t Louis's , whom rass and THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 811 smoking his pipe. "I do not think he sees or hears us," said Louis to himself, " but I tliink I'll manage to bring him over soon ;" — and he set himself busily to work to scrape up the loose chips and shavings, and soon began to strike fire with his knife and flint. " What are you about, Louis ?" asked Hector. " Lighting a fire." " It is warm enough without a fire, I am 5? sure. " I know that, but I want to attract the notice of yonder tiresome fisherman." "And perhaps bring a swarm of savages down upon us, who may be lurking in the bushes of the island." " Pooh, pooh ! Hec ; — there are no savages. I am weary of this place — any thing is better than this horrible solitude." And Louis lanned the flame into a rapid blaze, and heaped up the light dry branches till it soared up among the bushes. Louis watched the effect of his fire, and rubbed his 'hands gleefully as the bark ca- noe was pushed off from the island, and a few vigorous strokes of the paddle sent it dancing over the surface of the calm lake. Louis waved his cap above his head with a cheer of vrelcome as the vessel lightly glided into the little cove, near the spot where the boya were chopping, and a stout-framed, weather- 312 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. VI..U beaten man, in a blanket coat, also fixded and weather-beaten, with a red worsted sash and worn mocassins, sprung upon one of the timbers of Louis's old raft, and gazed with a keen eye upon the lads. Each party silently regarded the other. A few rapid interrogations from the stranger, uttered in the broad patois of the Lower Province, were answered in a mixture of broken French and English by Louis. A change like lightning passed over the face of the old man as he cried out — " Louis Perron, son of my ancient compagnon !" " Oui ! oui !" — with eyes sparkling through tears of joy, Louis threw himself into the broad breast of Jacob Morelle, his father's friend and »)ld lumbering comrade. " Hector, son of la belle Catharine Perron," — and Hector, m his turn, received the affec- tionate embrace of the warm-hearted old man. " Who would have thought of meeting with the children of my old comrade here at the shore of the Eice Lake ? — -oh I what a joyful meeting!" Jacob had a hundred questions to ask : Where were their parents ? did they live on the Plains now ? how long was it since they had left the Cold Springs? were there any more little ones? and so Ibrth. The boys looked sorrowfully at each other. flided and sash and he timbers keen eye regarded s from the the Lower of broken over the L — "Louis i!" y through the broad riend and Perron," the affec- )ld man. ting with e at the a joyful : Where le Plains left the le ones? h other. \ THE CANADIAN CKL'SOES. 313 At last the old man st()[)|)L'(l for want of breath, and remarked their sad looks. " What, mes tils, are your parents dead? Ah well I I did not think to have outlived them ; but they luive not led such healthy lives as old Jacob Morelle — huntinre him, and Catharine took care :) the grand- i-humoured sensible to ade by the is forgive- g to adopt aarriage to iher of the destly but Ir her heart had saved her to look a brighter THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 337 and a better state of being. She said, " She would go with her white sister, and pray to God to bless her enemies, as the Great Spirit had taught her to do." It seems a lingering principle of good in human nature, that the exercise of mercy and virtue opens the heart to the enjoyment of social happiness. The Indians, no longer worked up by excitement to deeds of violence, seemed disposed to bury the hatchet of hatred, and the lodge was now filled with mirth, and the voice of gladness, feasting, and dancing. A covenant of peace and goofl-vvill was entered upon by old Jacob and the chief, who bade Catharine tell iier brothers that from henceforth they should 6e free to hunt the deer, fish, or shoot the wild fowl of the lake, whenever they desired to do 60, " he the Bald Eagle had said so." On the morrow, with the first dawn of day, the old trapper was astir ; the canoe was ready, with fresh cedar boughs strewed at the bottom. A supply of parched rice and dried fish had been presented by the Indian chief for the voyage, that his white brother and the young girls might not suffer from want. At sunrise the old man led his young charges to the lodge of the Bald Eagle, who took a kindly farewell of tbem. '' The Snow-bird" was sorrowful, and Ijer bright laughing eyes were dimmed with 29 338 THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. r.\ tears at parting with Catharine ; she was a gentle loving thing, as soft and playful as the tame fawn that nestled its velvet head against her arm. She did not let Catharine depart without manv tokens of her regjard, the work of her own hands, — bracelets of porcupine quills cut in line pieces and strung in fanciful patterns,* mocassins richly wrought, and tiny bark dishes and boxes, such as might have graced a lady's work-table, so rare was their workmanship. Just as they were about to step into the canoe, " the Snow-bird" reappeared, bearing a richl}'' worked bark box, " From the Great Medicine," she said in a low voice, "to the daughter of the Mohawk brave." The box con- tained a fine tunic, soft as a lady's glove, em- broidered and fringed, and a fillet of scarlet and blue feathers, with the wings and breast of the war-bird, as shoulder ornaments. It was a token of reconciliation and good-will worthy of a generous heart. The young girl pressed the gifts to her bosom and to her lips reverentially, and the hand that brought them to her heart, as she said in her native tongue, " Tell the Great Medicine I kiss her in my heart, and pray that she may bars peace and joy till she departs for the spirit- land." * Appendix M. THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. 339 she was a lyfal as the head against irine depart rd, the work cupine quills ■ul patterns,* bark dishes aced a lady's nanship. tep into the id, bearing a a the Great pice, "to the he box con- s glove, em- )f scarlet and breast of the It was a 11 worthy of to her bosom le hand that said in her licine I kiss |e may har^ the spirit- With joyful heart they bade adieu to the [ndian lodges, and rejoiced in being once more afloat on the bosom of the great river. rn ro Catharine the events of the past hour seemed like a stran