IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

1.0

1.1

1.25

I- ^

Uut-

11=

U lilll 1.6

^>^

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

^9>

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. US80

(716) 872-4503

>""

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHIVI/ICIVIH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notaa/Notaa tachnlquea at bibliographiquas

Tha Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy avaiiabie for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibiiographicaiiy unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly chaiiine
the usual method of filming, are checiced below.

D
D
D
D
D
D

Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

I I Covers damaged/

Couverture endommag6e

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaur^ et/ou pelliculAe

Cover title missing/

La titre de couverture manque

Coloured maps/

Cartes gAographiques en couleur

Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or b\ack)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

Coloured plates and/or illustrations/
Planches et/ou Illustrations en couleur

Bound with other material/
RellA avec d 'a litres documents

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

La reiiure serrAe peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge inttrieure

Blanic leaves added during restoration may
appear within tha text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
11 se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutAes
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela Atait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas At6 filmAes.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires supplAmentairas;

L'Instltut a microfilm* le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du
point de vue bibliographlque, qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la mAthode normale de fllmage
sont indiqute ci-dessous.

I I Coloured pages/

Pages de couleur

Pages damaged/
Pages endommagAes

Pages restored and/oi

Pages restaurias et/ou pelllculAes

Pages discoloured, stained or foxei
Pages dicoiories, tacheties ou piquAes

I — I Pages damaged/

I I Pages restored and/or laminated/

r~^ Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/

□ Pages detached/
Pages d^tachies

Showthrough/

Transparence

Quality of prir

Quality Inigale de I'impresslon

Quality of print varies/

I I includes supplementary material/

Comprend du materiel supplimentaire

Only edition available/
Seuie Edition disponible

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc., have been ref limed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partiellement
obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure,
etc., ont 6t4 filmies it nouveau de fapon A
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

The

to tl

The

POS!

of tl
film

Oric

beg

the

sior

oth(

first

sior

or il

The
shal
TIN
whi

IVIar
diff«
enti
beg
righ
reqi
met

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checiced below/

Ce document est filmA au taux de reduction indiquA ci-dessous

10X 14X 18X 22X

26X

12X

16X

20X

24X

28X

32X

i«tails
es du
modifier
er une
filmaga

tos

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

National Library of Canada

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and In keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

Original copies In printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated Impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol — •► (meaning "CON-
TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

L'exemplaire film6 fut reprodult grflce d la
g6n6roslt6 de:

BIbllothdque nationale du Canada

Les Images suivantes ont 6t6 reprodultes avec le
plus grand soln, compte tenu de la condition et
de la nettet6 de l'exemplaire film6, et en
conformity avec les conditions du contrat de
fllmage.

Les exemplalres origlnaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprimis ;:unt filmds en commengant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par ia
dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impresslon ou d'lilustration, soit par le second
plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplalres
origlnaux sont fiimis en commen^ant par la
premidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impresslon ou d'lilustration et en terminant par
la dernidre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

Un des symboles suivants apparaftra sur la
dernldre image de cheque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbole — ► signlfle "A SUIVRE ", le
symbole V signifie "FIN".

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre
filmds d des taux de reduction dlff6rents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre
reproduit en un seul cllch6, II est filmd A partir
de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'Images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la mdthode.

f errata
id to

ie pelure,

9on A

2 3

32X

BlacKie*8
Library of
Famous BooKs

Louisa M. Alcott.

Jane Austen.

R. M. Ballantyne.

The Hon, John Byron.
Susan Coolidge.

J. Fenimore Cooper.

Maria S. Cummins.
R. H. Dana.
Daniel Defoe.
Maria Edgeworth.

Benjamin Franklin.
Oliver Goldsmith.
Mrs. Gore.
Captain Basil Hall,
Charles Kingsley.
W. H. G. Kingston.

Charles Lamb.
Lord Macaulay.
Captain Marryat.

Good Wives.
LriTLE Women.

NORTHANOER AbhEY,

Coral Island.

Martin Raitler.

Ungava.

Wreck of the Wager.

What Katy Did.

What Katy Did at School.

What Katy Did Nexi'.

Deerslayer.

Ned Myers.

The Pathfinder.

The Lamplighter.

Two Years Before the Mast.

Robinson Crusoe.

The Good Governess.

Moral Tales.

Autobiography.

The Vicar of Wakefield.

The Snowstorm.

The Log-Book of a Midshipman.

The Heroes.

Peter the Whaler.

Manco, the Peruvian Chief.

Tales from Shaksf care.

Essays on English History.

Children of the New Forest,

Masterman Ready.

Poor Jack.

Settlers in Canada.

Harriet Martineau.
Herman Melville.

Mary Russell Mitford.

Peter Parley.
Edgar Allan Poe.
Mayne Reid.
Cristoph von Schmid.
Michael Scott.

Sir Walter Scott.

Catherine Sinclair.
Robert Southey.
Charles Waterton.
Gilbert White.

Feats on the Fiord.

Typee, a Romance of the South

Seas.
Selections from Our Village.
Country Sketches.
Tales ahout Greece and Rome.
Tales of Romance and Fantasy.
The Rifle Rangers.
Tjie Basket of Flowers.
The Cruise of the Midge.
Tom Cringle's Log.
A Legend of Montrose.
The Story of Prince Charlie.
The Downfall of Napoleon.
The Talisman.
Holiday House.
Life of Nelson.
Wanderings in .South America.

Natural History of Selborne.
Autobiographies of Boyhood.
Passages in the Life of a Galley Slave. From the Frenchs

translated by M. Betham-Edwards.
Adventures of Girlhood.
Selections from Addison's Spectator.
Captain Cook's Voyages. Selections with Introduction.
Lives of Drake and Cavendish.
The Swiss Family Robinson.
Dampier's Life and Voyages.
Parry's Third Voyage.
Anson's Voyage Round the World.
Plutarch's Lives.
Grimm's Fairy Tales.
Tom Brown's School Days.

Other Volumes are in course of Preparation

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA

M'.a

THE AXES AGAIN RESOUNDED IN THE V/OODS"

The

Settlers in Canada

Written for Young People

CAPTAIN MARRYAT

LONDON

BLACKIE & Son, Limited, 50 Old Bailey, E.C
Glasgow and Dublin

14022.^

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA

CUAFrER 1

^ "TT was ill the year 1794 that an English family wtMit out to

* I settle in Canada. This province had been aunendered to

us by the French, who first colonized it, more than thirty
years |ireviou8 to the year 1 have mentioniHl. It nuist, however,
be recollected, that to emigrate and setile in Canada was, at
that time, a very ditlerent atlair to what it is now. The diflioulty
of transport, and the dangers incurred, were much greater, for there
were no steamboats to stem the currents and the rapids of the rivers;
the Indians were still residing in Tpper and many portions of Lower
Canada, and the country was infested with wild animals of every
description — some useful, but many dangerous: moreover, the Euro-
l)ean8 were fewer in number, and ^he major portion of them were
French, who were not pleased at the country having been con-
quered by the English. It is true that a great many Knglish settlere
liad arrived, and had settled upon ditlerent farms ; but as the French
settlers liad already possession of all the best land in Lower Canada,
tliese new settlers were obliged to go into or towards Upper Canada,
where, although the land was better, the distance from Quebec and
Montreal, and other pojiulous parts, was much greater, and they
were left almost wholly to their own resources, and almost without
protection. I mention all this, because things are so very different
at present : and now I shall state the cause which induced tins family
to leave their home, and run the risks and dangers which they did.
Mr. Campbell was of a good parentage, but, being the son of one
of the younger branches of the family, his father was not rich, and
Mr. Campbell was, of course, brought up to a profession. Mr. Camp-
bell chose that of a surgeon; and after having walked the hospitals
(as it is termed), he set up in business, and in a few years was con-

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

sidered as a very able man iu his profession. His practice iucreaaed
very fast ; and before he was thirty years of age he married.

Mr. Campbell had an only sister, who resided with him, for their
father and mother were both dead. But about five years after his
own DJiarriage, a young gentleman paid his addresses to her; and,
although not rich, as his character was unexceptionable, and his
prospects good, he was accepted. Miss Canipbell changed her name
to Percival, and left her brothei-'s house to follow her husband.

Time passed quickly ; and at the end of ten years Mr. Canipbell
found himself with a flourishing business, and at the same time with
a family to support, his wife having presented him with four boys,
of whom the youngest was but a few months old.

But, although prosperous in his own affairs, one heavy misfortune
fell upon Mr. Campbell, which was the loss of his sister, Mrs. Percival,
to whom he was most sincerely attached. Uer loss was attended
with circumstances which rendered it more i)ainful, as, previous to
her decease, the house of business in which Mr. Percival was a
partner failed; and the incessiint toil and anxiety which Mr. Percival
underwent brought on a violent fever, which ended in his death.
In this state of distress, left a widow with one child of two years
old — a little girl — and with the exj)ectation oi being shortly again
confined, Mrs. Percival was brought to her brotlier's house, who,
with his wife, did all he could to soften her giief; but she had
sufifered so much by the loss of her husband, that when the period
arrived, her strength was gone, and she died in giving birth to a
second daughter. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, of course, took charge of
these two little orphan girls, and brought them up with their own
children.

Such was the state of affairs about ten or eleven years after Mr.
Campbell's marriage, when a circumstance occurred as unexpected
as it was welcome.

Mr. Campbell had returned from his round of professional visits;
dinner was over, and he was sitting at the table with his wife and
elder children (for it was the Christmas holidays, and they were all
at home), and the bell had just been rung for the nurse to bring
down the two little girls, and the youngest boy, when the postman
rapped at the door, and the parlour-maid brought in a letter with a
large black seal. Mr. Campbell opened it, and read as follows: —

Sir, — "We have great pleasure iu making known to you, that upon
the demise of Mr. Sholto Campbell, of Wexton Hall, Cumberland,
which took place on the 19th ultimo, the entailed estates, in default
of more direct issue, have fallen to you, as nearest of kin; the pre-

THE SETTLKRa IN CAKADA.

Upon

fland,

jfault

pre-

sumptive heir having perished at sea, or iu the East Indies, and not
having been heard of for twenty-five years. We beg to be the first
to congratulate you upon your accession to real })roperty amounting
to X14,000 per annum. No will has been found, and it hh« been
ascertained that none was ever made by the late Mr. Sholto Camp-
bell. We have, therefore, put seals u{)on the personal property, and
shall wait your pleaaure. We can only add, that if in want of pro-
fessional advice, and not being already engaged, you may command
the services of v^,^. ,^0^^ obedient,

Harvey, I'axton, Tuorpb, & Co.

"What can be the matter, my dear?" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell,
who had perceived most unusual agitation in her husband's coun-
tenance.

Mr. Campbell made no reply, but handed the letter to his wife.

Mrs. Campbell read it, and laid it down on the table.

"Well, my dearl" exclaimed Mr. Campbell, joyfully, and starting
up from his chair.

" It is a sudden shock, indeed," observed Mrs. Campbell, thought-
fully and slowly. " I have often felt that we could bear up against
any adversity. I trust in God that we may be as well able to sup-
port prosperity, by far the hardest task, my dear Campbell, of the
two."

" You are right, Emily," replied Mr. v^ampbell, sitting down
again ; " we are, and have long been, happy."

" This sudden wealth cannot add to our happiness, my dear hus-
band; I feel it will rather add to our cares ; but it may enable us to
add to the happiness of others; and with such feelings, let us receive
it with thankfulness."

" Very true, Emiiy, but still we must do our duty in that station
of life to which it has plejised God to call us. Hitherto I have by
my profession been of some benefit to my fellow-creatures; and if
in my change of condition I no more leave my warm bed to relieve
their sufferings, at all events I shall have the means of employing
others so to do. We must consider ourselves but as the stewards of
Him who has bestowed this great wealth upon us, and employ it aa
may be acceptable to His service."

" There my husband spoke as I felt he would," said Mrs. Campbell,
rising up, and embracing him. "Those who feel aa you do can
never be too rich."

I must not dwell too long upon this portion of my nairative. I
shall therefore observe that Mr. Campbell took possession of Wexton

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

Hall, and lived in a style corresponding to his increased fortune;
but, at the same time, he never let pass an opportunity of doing
good, and in this task he was ably assisted by his wife. They had
not resided there three or four years before they were considered as
a blessing to all around them — encouraging industry, assisting the
unfortunate, relieving the indigent, building almshouses and schools,
and doing all in their power to promote the welfare and add to the
happiness of those within many miles of the Hall. At the time that
Mr. Campbell took possession, the estate had been much neglected,
and required large sums to be laid out upon it, which would much
increase its value.

Thus all the large income of Mr. Camj)bell was usefully and
advantageously employed. The change in Mr. Campbell's fortune
liad also much changed the prospects of his children. Henry, the
eldest, who had been intended for his father's i)rofeision, was first
sent to a private tutor, and afterwai'ds to college. Alfred, the second
boy, had chosen the navy for his profession, and had embarked on
board a fine frigate. The other two boys, one named Percival,
who was more than two years old at the time that they took posses-
sion of the property, and the other, John, who had been born only
a few months, remained at home, receiving tuition from a young
curate, who lived near the Hall; while a governess had been pro-
cured for Mary and Emma Peicival, who were growing up very
handsome and intelligent girls.

Such w& ' ^ state of aflairs at the time when Mr. Campbell had
been abou ter y ars in possession of the Wextou estate, when one
day he waf" . ed upon by Mr. Harvey, the head of the firm which
had announced to him his succession to the property.

Mr. Harvey came to inform him that a claimant had appeared,
and given notice of his intent to iile a bill in Chancery to recover
the estate, being, as he asserted, the son of the person who ha^l been
considered as the presumptive heir, and who had perished so many
years back. Mr. Harvey observed, that although he thought it his
duty to make the circumstance known to Mr. Campbell, he con-
sidered it as a matter of no consequence, and in all probability would
turn out to be a fraud got up by some petty attorney, with a view
to a compromise. He requested Mr. Campbell not to allow the
circumstance to give him any annoyance, stating that if more was
heard of it, he should be immediately informed. Satisfied with the
opinion of Mr. Harvey, Mr. Campbell dismissed the cii'cumstance
from his mind, and did not even mention it to his wife.

But three mouths had not passed away before Mr. Campbell

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA. 9

received a letter from hia solicitor, iu which he informed him that
the claim to the estate was carrying on with great vigour, and, he
was sorrj to add, wore (to use his own term) a very ugly appearance;
and that the opposite parties wou' \ at all events, put Mr. Campbell
to very considerable expense. The solicitor requested Mr. Campbell's
instructions, again asserting, that although it was artfully got up, he
considered that it was a fraudulent attempt. Mr. Campbell returned
an answer, in which he authorized his solicitor to take every needful
precaution, au<l to incur all necessary expense. On reflection, Mr.
Campbell, although much annoyed, determined not to make Mrs.
Campbell acquainted with what was going on ; it could only distress
her, he thought, and he therefore resolved for the present to leave
her in ignorance.

CHAPTER II.

many

it his

con-

i^ould

view

the

le was

jhthe

Itance

Lbell

After a delay of some months, Mr. Harvey called upon Mr.
Campbell, and stated to him that the claim of the opposite party,
so far from being fraudulent, as he had supposed, was so clear that
he feared the worst results.

It appeared that the heir to the estates, who had remained between
Mr. Campbell's title, had married iu India, and had subsequently, aa
it had been supposed, died ; but there was full and satisfactory proof
that the marriage was valid, and that the party who claimed was
his son. It was true, Mr. Harvey observed, that Mr. Campbell
might delay for some time the restoration of the property, but that
eventually it must be surrendered.

As soon aa Mr. Campbell received this letter, he went to his wife
and accjiiainted her with all that had been going on for some months,
and with the reasons which induced him to say nothing to her until
the receipt of Mr. Harvey's letter, which he now put into her hands,
requesting her opinion on the subject. Mrs. Campbell, after having
read the letter, replied :

" It appears, my dear husband, that we have been called to take
possession of a property, and to hold for many years that which
belongs to another. We are now called upon to give it up to the
rightful owner. You ask my opinion ; surely there is no occasion to
do that. We must of course, now that we know that the claim is
just, do as we would be done by."

" That is, my dearest, we must surrender it at once, without any

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

ii*

more litigation. It certainly has been my feeling ever since I have
read Mr. Harvey's letter. Yet it ia hard to be beggars."

" It is hard, my dear husband, if we may use that term ; but, at
the same time, it is the will of Heaven. We received the ])roperty
supposing it to have been our own; we have, I hope, not misused it
during the time it has been intrusted to us; and, since it pleases
Heaven that we should be deprived of it, let us, at all events, have
the satisfaction of acting conscientiously and jusily, and trust to
Him for our future support."

" I will write immediately," replied Mr. Campbell, " to acciuaint
Mr. Harvey, that although I litigated the point as long as the claim
was considered doubtful, now that he informs me that the other
party is the legal heir, I beg that all proceedings may be stopped, as
I am willing to give immediate possession."

" Do so, niy dear," replied his wife, embracing him. " We may be
poor, but I trust we shall still be happy."

Mr. Campbell sat down and wrote the letter of instructions to hia
solicitor, sealed it, and sent a groom with it to the post.

As soon as the servant had closed the door of the room, Mr.
Campbell covered his face with his hands.

" It is, indeed, a severe trial," said Mrs. Campbell, taking the
hand of her husband ; " but you have done your duty."

" [ care not for myself ; I am thinking of my children."

"They must work," replied Mrs. Campbell. "Employment is
happiness."

" Yes, the boys may get on ; but those poor girls ! what a change
will it be for them !"

" I trust they have been not so badly brought up, Campbell, but
that they will submit with cheerfulness, and be a source of comfort
to us both. Besides, we may not be absolutely beggars."

" That depends upon the other party. He may claim all arrears
of tent', and if so, we are more than beggars. However, God's will
be done. Shall we receive good, and shall we iiot receive evil?"

" There's hope, my husband," replied Mrs. Campbell in a cheering
tone; "let us hope for the best."

"How little do we know what is for our good, short-sighted
mortals as we are !" observed Mr. Campbell. " Had not this estate
come to us, I should, by following up my profession as surgeon, in
all probability have realized a gogd provision for my children : now,
this seeming good turn of fortune leaves me poor. I am too old now
to r«sume my profession, and, if I did, have no chance of obtaining
the practice which I left. You see that which appeared to us and

TIIK SETTLERS IN CANADA.

iglited

estate

lou, in

now.

every one else the most fortunate occurrence in luy life, has event-
ually proved the contrary."

" As far as our limited view of things can enable us to judge, I
grant it," replied Mrs. Campbell; "but who knows what might have
happened if we had remained in possession? All is hidden from our
view. Jle acts as he thinks best for us ; and it is for us to submit
without repining. Come, dearest, let us walk out; the air is fresh,
and will cool your heated brow."

Two days after this conversation, a letter was received from Mr.
Harvey, informing them that he had made known Mr. Campbell's
determination to resign the property without farther litigation; that
the reply of the other jmrty was highly honourable, stating that it
was not his intention to make any claim for the back rents, and
requesting that Mr. Campbell and family would consider Wexton
Hall at their disposal for three mouths, to enable them to make
arrangements, and disjiose of their furniture, &c.

The contents of this letter were a great relief to the mind of Mr.
Campbell, as he was now able to aacertaiu what his future means
might be, and was grateful fur the handsome behaviour of the new
proprietor in not making any claim for back rents, which would have
reduced him at once to penury. He wrote immediately to Mr.
Harvey, requesting him to send in his account of legal expenses,
that it might be liquidated as soon as possible. In three days it
arrived, and a letter witli it, in which Mr. Harvey acquainted him,
that it wiifl in consequence of his having so handsomely surrendered
the property as soon as the claim was substantiated, together with
tlie knowledge how much the estate had been improved during the
ten years in which it had been in his possession, which induced the
new proprietor to behave in so liberal a manner. This was very
gratifying to Mr. Campbell, but the legal expenses proved enormous,
amounting to many thousand pounds.

Mr. Campbell read the sum total, and threw the huge heap of
papers down on the table in desj)air.

" We are still ruined, my dear," said he, mournfully.

"Let us hope 7ioi," replied Mrs. Campbell. "At all events, we
now know the worst of it, and we must look it boldly in the face."

" I have not so much money a.s will pay this bill by nearly a thou-
sand pounds, my dearest wife."

" It may be so," replied Mrs. Campbell ; " but still there is the
furniture, the horses, and carriages; surely they are worth much
more."

" But we have other bills to pay; you forget them."

THE SETTLERS IN OANADA.

" No, I do not ; I have been collectiug them all, and they do not
amouut to more than £300 as near as I can judge; but we have no
time to lose, dearest, and we must show courage."

"What then do you advise, Emily?" said Mr. Campbell.

" We must incur no more expense ; our present establishment
must be dismissed at once. Send fur all the servants to-morrow
morning, and explain what has occurred. This evening I will make
it known to the two girls and Miss Paterson, who must of course be
discharged, as we can no longer afford a governess. We must retain
only the cook, housemaid, one footman, and a groom to look after
the horses until they are sold. Send a letter to Mr. Bates, the
auctioneer, to give notice of an early sale of the furniture. You
must write to Henry ; of course he can no longer remain at college.
We have plenty of time to consider what shall be our future plans,
which must depend much upon what may prove to be our future
means."

This judicious advice was approved of by Mr. Campbell. Miss
Paterson was greatly distressed when the news was communicated to
her by Mrs. Campbell. Mary and Emma Percival felt deeply for
their kind benefactors, but thought nothing of themselves. As Mrs.
Campbell had truly observed, they had been too well brought up.
As soon as they were informed of what had happened, they both ran
to Mr. Campbell's room, and hung upon his neck, declaring that they
would do all they could to make him happy, and work for him, if
necessary, from morning till night.

The next day the whole household were summoned into the
dining-room, and made acquainted by Mr. Campbell with what had
taken place, and the necessity of their immediate removal. Their
wages had been calculated, and were paid them before they quitted
the room, which they all did with many expressions of regret. Miss
Paterson requested leave to remain with them as a friend for a few
days longer, and as she was deservedly a favourite, her request was
acceded to.

"Thank Heaven, that is over!" said Mr. Campbell, after all
the household had been dismissed. "It is quite a relief to my
mind."

" Here's a letter from Alfred, Uncle," said Emma Percival, enter-
ing the room. " He has just arrived at Portsmouth, and says the
ship is ordered to be paid off immediately, and his captain is
appointed to a fifty-gun ship, and intends to take him with him. He
says he will be here in a few days, and — "

"And what, dearest?" siiid Mrs. Campbell.

THB SETTLERS IV CANADA.

ito the

tat had

Their

uitted

Miss

a few

at was

" He says his time will be short, but he hopes you won't object to
his bringing two of his messmates down with him."

" Poor fellow ! I am sorry that he will be disappointed," replied
Mr. Campbell. "You must write to him, Emma, and tell him what
has happened."

" I must write to him. Uncle?"

" Yes, dear Emma, do you write to him," replied Mrs. Campbell ;
" your uncle and I have much to attend to."

" I will, since you wish me," said Emma, the tears starting in her
eyes as she quitted the room.

" Mr. Bates, the auctioneer, wishes to see you, sir," said the foot-
man as he came in.

" llequest that he will walk in," replied Mr. Campbell.

Mr. Bates, the auctioneer, came in, and presented a letter to Mr.
Campbell, who requested him to take a chair while he read it. It
was from Mr. Douglas Campbell, the new proprietor of the estate,
requesting that Mr. Bates would ascertain if Mr. Campbell was will-
ing that the furniture, &c., should be disposed of by valuation, and if
so, requesting Mr. Bates to put a liberal value on it, and draw upon
him for the amount.

"This is ly considerate of Mr. Douglas Campbell," observed
Mrs. Campbell; "of course, my dear, you can have no objection?"

" None whatever ; return ray best thanks to Mr. Douglajs Camp-
bell for his kindness ; and, Mr. Bates, if you can possibly value by
to-morrow or next day, I should esteem it a favour."

" It shall be done, sir," replied Mr. Bates, who then rose and took
his leave.

As soon as the valuation was finished, Mr. Campbell was enabled
to make an estimate of what remained to them out of the property,
and found that the whole sum amounted to between seventeen and
eighteen hundred pounds.

CHAPTER III.

It may appear strange that, after having been in possession of the
estate for ten years, and considering that he had younger children
to provide for, Mr. Campbell had not laid up a larger sum ; but this
can be fully explained. As I before said, the estate was in very bad
order when Mr. Campbell came into possession, and he devoted a
large portion of the income to improving it ; and, secondly, he had
expended a considerable sum in building almshouses and schools,

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

worki which he wouUl not delay, aa he considered them as religions
obligations. The consequence was, that it was not until a year
before the claim was made to the estate that he had commenced
laying by for his younger children ; and as the estate was then worth
i<2(X)0 per annum more than it was at the time that he came into
possession of it, he had resolved to put by il5(XX) per annum, and
had done so for twelve months. The enormous legal expensea had,
however, swallowed up this sura, and more, as we have already
stated ; and thus he was left a poorer man by some hundreds than
he was when the property fell to him. The day after the valuation,
the eldest son, Henry, made his appearance ; he seemed mucli de-
jected — more so than his parents, and those who knew him, would
have supposed. It was, however, ascribed to his feeling for his
father and mother, rather than for himself.

Many were the consultations held by Mr. and Mre. Campbell as
to their future plans ; but nothing at all feasible, or likely to prove
advantageous, suggested itself to them. With only sixteen or seven-
teen hundred pounds, they scarcely knew where to go, or how to act.
Keturn to his profession Mr. C/ampbell knew that he could not, with
any chance of supporting his family. His eldest son, Henry, might
obtain a situation, but he was really fit for nothing but the bar or
holy orders ; and how were they to support him till he could support
himself? Alfred, who was now a master's mate, could, it is true,
support himself, but it would be with difficulty, and there was little
chance of his promotion. Then there were the two other boys, and
the two girls growing up fast; in short, a family of eight people.
To put so small a sum in the funds would be useless, as they could
not live upon the interest which it would give; and how to employ
it they knew not. They canvassed the matter over and over, but
without success, and each night they laid their heads upon the pillow
more and more disheartened. They were all ready to leave the Hall,
but knew not where to direct their steps when they left it : and thus
they continued wavering for a week, until they were embraced by
their son Alfred, who had made all speed to join them as soon as the
Hliip had been paid off. After the first joy of meeting between those
who had been separated so long was over, Mr. Campbell said, " I'm
sorry, Alfred, that I could not give your messmates any fishing."

"And so am I, and so were they, for your sakes, my dear father
and mother; but what is, is — and what can't be helped, can't — so we
must make the best of it; but where's Henry and my cousins?"

"They are walking in the park, Alfred ; you had better join them ;
they are most anxious to see you."

;■&

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

"I will, Mother; let us get over these hugginjjs and kissings, and
then we sliall be more rational ; no gooil-hye for half an hour," Raid
Alfred, kisaing his niothor again, and then hatiteniug out of the
room.

"His spirits are not subdued, at all events," observed Mrs. Camp-
bell. "1 thank God for it."

Alfred soon fell in with his brother and his cousins, Mary and
Emma, and after the hiiggings and kissinga, as he termed them,
were over, he made inquiries into the real state of his father's affairs.
After a short conversation, Henry, who wjia very much depressed in
his spirits^ aid :

"Mary and Emma, perhaps you will now go in; I wish to have
some conversation with Alfred."

"You are terribly out of heart, Harry," observed Alfred, after
his cousins had left them. "Are things so very bad?"

"They are bad enough, Alfred ; but what makes me so low-spirited
is, that I fear my folly has made them worse."

"How sol" replied Alfred.

"The fact is, that my father has but £1100 left in the world, a
sum small enough ; but what annoys me is this. When I was at
college, little imagining such a reverse of fortune, I anticipated my
allowance, because I knew that I could pay at Christmas, and I ran
in debt about ^200. My father always cautioned me not to exceed
my allowance, and thinks that I have not done so. Now I cannot
bear the idea of leaving college in debt, and at the same time it
will be a heavy blow to my poor father if he has to part with ;£200,
out of his trifling remainder, to pay my debt. This is what has
made me so unhappy. I cannot bear to tell him, because I feel
convinced that he is so honourable he will pay it immediately. I
am mad with myself, and really do not know what to do. I do
nothing but reproach myself all day, and I cannot sleep at night. I
have been very foolish, but I am sure you will kindly enter into my
present feelings. I waited till you came home, because I thought
you had better tell my father the fact, for I feel as if I should die
with shame and vexation."

"Look you, Harry," replied Alfred, "as for outrunning the con-
stable, as we term it at sea, its a very common thing, and, all things
considered, no great harm done, when you suppose that you have
the means, and intend to pay ; so don't lay that to heart. That you
would give your right hand not to have done so, as things have
turned out, I really believe ; but, however, there is no occasion to
fret any moie about it. I have received three years' pay, and the

THS SRTTLEaS IN CANADA.

prize-money for the lant eighteen months and tliere \e itill Home
more due, f(»r a French privateer. Altogether it amounts to £260,
which I had intended to have mad over to my father, now that he
is on a lee-shore; but it will come to the same thing whether I give
it to you to pay your debts, or give it to him, as he will pay them if
you do not; so here it is, take what you want, and hand me over
what's left. My father don't know that I have any money, and now
he won't know it; at the same time he won't know that you owe
any; so that squares the account, and he will be as well off as ever."

"Thank you, my dear Alfred; you don't know what a relief this
will be to my mind. Now I can look my father in his face."

"I hope you will; we are not troubled with Huch delicate feelings
on board ship, Harry. I should have told him the truth long before
this. I couldn't bear to keep anything on my conscience. If this
misfortune had happened laat cruise, I should have been just in your
position ; for I had a tailor's bill to pay as long as a frigate's pennant,
and not enough in my pocket to buy a mouse's breakfast. Now,
let's go in again, and be as merry as possible, and cheer them up a
little."

Alfred's high spirits did certainly do much to cheer them all up;
and after tea, Mr. Campbell, who had previously consulted his wife,
as soon as the servant had quitted the room entered on a full ex-
planation of the means which were left to them ; and stated, that he
wished in his difficulty to put the quesi.on before the whole family,
and ascertain whether any project might come into their heads upon
which they might decide and act. Henry, who had recovered his
spirits since the assistance he had received from Alfred, was desired
to speak first. He replied :

"My dear father and mother, if you cannot between you hit upon
any plan, I am afraid it is not likely that I can assist you. All I
have to say is, that whatever may be decided upon, I shall most
cheerfully do my duty towards you and my brothers and sisters.
My education has not been one likely to be very useful to a poor
man, but I am ready to work with my hands as well as with my
head, to the best of my abilities."

"That I am sure of, my dear boy," replied his father.

"Now, Alfred, we must look to you as our last hope, for your two
cousins are not likely to give us much advice."

"Well, father, I have been thinking a good deal about it, and I
have a proposal to make which may at first startle you, but it appears
to me that it is our only, and our best resource. The few hundred
pounds whinh you have left are of no use in this country, except to

(1168)

TUB BBTTLEKfl IN CANADA.

keep you from starving for a year or two; but in another country
thej may be made to be worth aa many thouHauds. lu this cuuutry,
a large family becomes a heavy charge and expense ; in another
country, the more children you b'»ve, the richer man you are. If,
therefore, you would coneu^ut *o transport your family and your
present means into anoth<i»' co'Mitry, instead of being a [wor, you
might be a rich man."

"What country is that, Alfred?"

"Why, Father, the purser of our ship had a brother, who, soon
after the French were beaten out of the Canadas, went out there to
try his fortune. He had only three hundred pounds in the world : he
has been there now about four years, and I read a letter from him
which the purser received when the frigate arrived at E*ortamouth, in
which he states that he is doing well, and getting rich fiist; that he
has a farm of five hundred acres, of which two hundred are cleared ;
and that if he only had some children large enough to help him, he
would soon be worth ten times the money, as he would purchase
more land immediately. Land is to be bought there at a dollar an
acre, and you may pick and choose. With your money, you might
buy a large property; with your children, you might improve it
fast ; and in a few years you would at all events be comfortable, if
not flourishing, in your circumstances. Your children would work
for you, and you would have the satisfaction of knowing that you
left them independent and happy."

" I acknowledge, my dear boy, that you have strtick upon a plan
which has much to recommend it. Still there are drawbacks."

" Drawbacks ! " replied Alfred ; " yes, to be sure, there are ; if
estates were to be picked up for merely going out for them, there
would not be many left for you to choose ; but, my dear father, 1
know no drawbacks which cannot be surmounted. Let us see what
these drawbacks are. First, hard labour; occasional privation; a
log-hut till we can get a better; severe winter; isolation from the
world ; occasional danger, even from wild bejists and savages. I
grant these are but sorry exchanges for such a splendid mansion
as this — fine furniture, excellent cooking, polished society, and the
interest one feels for what is going on in our own country, which is
daily communicated to us. Now, as to hard labour, I and Henry
will take as much of that off your hands as we can : if the winter is
severe, there is no want of firewood ; if the cabin is rude, at least we
will make it comfortable; if we are shut out from the world, we
shall have society enough among ourselves; if we are in danger, we
will have firearms and stout hearts to defeud ourselves ; and, really,
( M 63 ' B

TUB 8BTTLRR8 IW CAN ADA.

I do not see but we may be very happy, very comfortable, and, at all
events, very iiuli>pen<leiit."

" Alfred, yuu tdk iiu if you were going with uh/' said Mru. Camp-
bell.

"And do you think that I am not, my dear mother? Do you
imagine that I would remain here when you were there, and my
preHcnce would be useful? No— no— I love the service, it is true,
but I know my duty, which is, to assist my father and mother : in
fact, I prefer it; a midshipman's ideas of independence are very
great ; and I had rather range the wilds of Ameriai free and inde-
pendent, than remain in the service, and have to touch my hat to
every junior lieutenant, perhaps for twenty years to come. If you
go, I go, that is certain. Why, I should be miserable if you went
without me; T should dream every night that an Indian had run
away with Mary, or that a bear had eaten up my little Emma."

" Well, I'll take my chance of the Indian," replied Mary Percival.

"And I of the bear," said Emma. " Perhaps he'll only hug me aa
tight as Alfred did when he came home."

" Thank you, Miss, for the comparison," replied Alfred, laughing.

" I certainly consider that your proposal, Alfred, merits duo re-
flection," observed Mrs. Campbell. " Your father and I will eonsiUt,
and perhai)s by to-morr©w morning we may have come to a decision.
Now we had better all go to bed."

" I shall dream of the Indian, I am sure," said Mary.

"And I shall dream of the bear," added Emma, looking archly at
Alfred.

"And I shall dream of a very pretty girl — that I saw at Ports-
mouth," said Alfred.

" I don't believe you," replied Emma.

Shortly afterwards Mr. Campbell rang the bell for the servants ;
family prayers were read, and all retired in good spirits.

The next morning they all met at an early hour ; and after Mr.
Campbell had, as was his invariable rule, read a portion of the Bible,
and a prayer of thankfulness, they sat down to breakfast. After
breakfast was over, Mr. Campbell said :

" My dear children, last night, after you had left us, your mother
and I had a long consultation, and we have decided that we have no
alternative left us but to follow the advice which Alfred has given :
if, then, you are all of the same opinion as we are, we have resolved
that we will try our fortunes in the Canadas."

" I am certainly of that opinion," replied Henry,

" And you, my girls?" said Mr. Campbell.

THB HKTTLKM IN CANADA.

Able, and, at all

kid MrH. Camp-

ther? Do you
there, and my
vice, it is true.
Aid mother: in
ilence are very
free and iude-
uch my hat to

I come. If you
tie if you went
ndian had run
le Emma."
Mary Percival.
only hug me aa

Ifred, laughing,
merits due re-

I I will considt,
le to a decision.

)king archly at

saw at Ports-

the servants;
ts.

and after Mr.
n of the Bible,
akfast. After

, your mother
at we have no
•ed has given :
have resolved

-I*

" We will follow vnu to the end of the world. Uncle," replied Mary,
" and try if we can by any means in our power repay your kindiieM
to two poor ori)han»."

Mr. and Mm. Campbell embraced their nieces, for they were much
affected by Mary's reply.

After a pause, Mrs. Campbell naid :

" And now that we have come to a decision, we must commence
our arrangements immediately. IIow shall we (liH{)ose of ourti<>lvfs?
Come, Alfred and Henry, what <lo you propose doing]"

" I muHt return immediately to Oxford, to settle my affairs, and
di.sjwse of my books and other property."

"Shall you have suflicieut money, my dear boy, to pay every-
thing ?" said Mr. Campbell.

'* Yes, n)y dear father," replied Henry, colouring up a little.

"And I," said Alfred, "presume that I can bo of no use here;
therefore I propose that I should start for Liverpool this afternoon
by the coach, for it is from Liverpool that we had better embark.
I shall first write to our purser for what information he can procure,
and obtain all I can at Liverpool from other people. As soon as 1
have anything to communicate, I will write."

" Write aa hoou as you arrive, Alfn'd, whethtr you have anything
to communicate or not; at all events, we shall know of your safe
arrival."

*' I will, my dear mother."

'* Have you moTiey, Alfred 1"

" Yes, (juite Hiiflicient, Father. I don't travel with four horses."

"Well, then, we will remain here to pack up, Alfred; and you
must look out for some moderate Imlgings for us to go into as soon
as we arrive at Liverpool. At what time do the ships sail for
Quebec?"

" Just about this time, Father. This is March, and they will now
sail every week almost. The sooner we are off the better, that we
may be comfortably housed in before the winter."

A few hours after this conversation Henry and Alfred left the
Hall upon their several destinations. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and
the two girls had plenty of employment for three or four days in
packing up. It was soon spread through the neighbourhood that
they were going to emigrate to Canada ; and the tenants who had
held their farms under Mr. Campbell, all came forward and proffered
their waggons and horses to transport his effects to Liverpool, with-
out his being put to any expense.

In the meantime a letter had been received from Alfred, who had

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

not been idle. He had made acquaintance with some merchants
who traded to Canada, and by them had been introduced to two or
three persons who had settled there a few years before, and who
were able to give him every information. They informed him what
was most advisable to take out; how they were to proceed upon
their landing ; and, what was of more importance, the merchants
gave him letters of introduction to English merchants at Quebec,
who would aflFord them every assistance in the selecting and purchas-
ing of land, and in their transport up the country. Alfred had also
examined a fine timber-ship, which was to sail in three weeks; and
had bargained for the price of their passage, in case they could get
ready in time to go by her. He wrote all these particulars to his
father, waiting for his reply to act upon his wishes.

Henry returned from Oxford, having settled his accounts, and
with the produce of the sale of his classics and other books in his
pocket. He was full of spirits, and of the greatest assistance to his
father and mother.

Alfred had shown so much judgment in all he had undertaken,
that his father wrote to him stating that they would be ready for
the ship which he named, and that he might engage the cabins, and
also at once procure the various articles which they were advised to
take out with them, and draw upon him for the amount, if the
people would not wait for the money. In a fortnight they were all
ready; the waggons had left with their effects some days before.
Mr. Campbell wrote a letter to Mr. Doughis Campbell, thanking
him for his kindness and consideration to them, and informing him
that they should leave Wexton Hall on the following day. He only
begged, as a favour, that the schoolmaster and schoolmistress of the
village school should be continued on, as it was of great importance
that the instruction of the poor should not be neglected ; and added,
that perceiving by the newspapers that Mr. Douglas Cam))bell had
lately married, Mrs. Campbell and he wished him and his wife every
happiness, &c. &c.

Having des{)atched this letter, there was nothing more to be done,
previous to their departure from the Hall, except to pay and dismiss
the few servants who were with tliem ; for Mrs. Campbell had
resolved upon taking none out with her.

The following morning, the coach, of which they had secured the
whole of the inside, drove up to the Hall door, and they all got in,
the tenants and poor people standing round them, all with their hats
in their hands out of respect, and wishing them every success as
they drove away through the avenue to the park gates. The Hall

I (

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

me merchants
need to two or
'ore, and who
lied him what
proceed upon
the merchants
ts at Quebec,
f and purchas-
Ifred had also
e weeks; and
hey could get
iculars to his

accounts, and

books in his

distance to his

I undertaken,

be ready for
le cabins, and
re advised to
lount, if the
they were all

days before.
bU, thanking

brming him
ly. He only

stress of the
importance
and added,

impbeJl had
wife every

to be done,
and dismiss
npbell had

secured the
all got in,

their hats
success as

The Hall

and the park itself had been long out of sight before a word was
exchanged. They checked their tears, but their hearts were too full
for them to venture to speak.

The day afterwards they arrived at Liverpool, where Alfred had
provided lodgings. Everything had been sent on board, and the
ship had hauled out in the stream. As they had nothing to detain
them on shore, and the captain wished to take advantage of the first
fair wind, they all embarked four days after their arrival at Liver-
pool ; and I shall now leave them on board of the London Merchant,
which was the name of the vessel, making all their little arrange-
ments previous to their sailing, under the superintendence of Alfred,
while I give some little more insight into the characters, ages, and
dispositions of the family.

CHAPTER IV.

Mr. Campbell was a person of many amiable qualities. He was
a religious, good man, very fond of his wife, to whose opinions he
yielded in preference to his own, and very partial to his children, to
whom he was inclined to be over indulgent. He was not a person
of much energy of character, but he was sensible and well-informed.
His goodness of heart rendered him very liable to be imposed upon,
for he never suspected any deceit, notwithstanding that he was con-
tinually deceived. His character was therefore that of a simple,
good, honest man.

Mrs. Campbell was well matched with him as a wife, as she had
all that energy and decision of character which was sometimes
wanting in her husband. Still there was nothing masculine in her
manners or appearance ; on the contrary, she was delicate in her
form, and very soft in her manners. She had great firmness and
self-possession, and had brought up all her children admirably.
Obedience to their parents was the principle instilled into them after
their duty to God; for she knew too well that a disobedient child
can never prosper. If ever there was a woman fitted to meet the
difficulty and danger which threatened them, it was Mrs. Campbell,
for she had courage and presence of mind, joined to activity and
cleverness.

Henry, the eldest son, was now nearly twenty years of age. He
possessed much of the character of his father, was without vice, but
rather inclined to inaction than otherwise. Much was to be ascribed
to his education and college life, and more to his natural disposition.

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

Alfred, the sailor, was, on the contrary, full of energy and active
in everything, patient and laborious, if required, and never taking
anything in hand without finishing it, if possible. He was rough,
but not rude, both in his speech and his manners, very kind-hearted,
at the same time very confident in himself and afraid of nothing.

Mary Percival was a very amiable, reflective girl, quiet, without
being sad, not often indulging in conversation, except when alone
with her sister Emma. She was devotedly attached to her uncle
and aunt, and was capable of more than she had any idea of herself,
for she was of a modest disposition, and thought humbly of herself.
Her disposition was sweet, and was portrayed in her countenance.
She was now seventeen years old, and very much admired.

Her sister Emma, who was but fifteen, was of a very different
disposition, naturally gay, and inclined to find amusement in every-
thing — cheerful as the lark, and singing from morning to night.
Her disposition, owing to Mrs. Campbell's care and attention, was
equally amiable as her sister's, and her high spirits seldom betrayed
her into indiscretion. She was the life of the family when Alfred
was away: he only was her equal in high spirits.

Percival, the third boy, was now welve years old : he was a quiet,
clever lad, very obedient and very attentive to what was told him,
very fond of obtaining information, being naturally very inquisitive.

John, the fourth boy, was ten years old — a sturdy, John Bull sort
of boy, not very fond of learning, but well-disposed in most things.
He preferred anything to his book ; at the same time, he was obe-
dient, and tried to keep up his attention as well as he could, which
was all that could be expected from a boy of his age. He was very
slow in everything, very quiet, and seldom spoke unless first spoken
to. He was not silly, although many people would have thought
him so, but he certainly was a very strange;,' boy, and it was difficult
to say what he would turn out.

I have now described the family as they appeared at the time that
they embarked on board of the London Merchant ; and have only to
add, that on the third day after their embarkation they made sail
with a fair wind, and ran down the Irish Channel.

The London Merchant sailed for Cork, where the North American
convoy were to assemble. At the time we speak of, the war had
recommenced between this country and the French, who were suffer-
ing all the horrors of the Revolution. On their arrival at Cork, our
party recovered a little from the sea-sickness to which all are subject
on their first embarkation. They found themselves at anchor with
more than a hundred merchant vessels, among which were to be

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

perceived the lofty maata aud spars of a large fifty- gun ship, and
two small frigates, \ehich were appointed to convoy them to their
destiuatioD.

The rest of the party, still suflFering, soon went down below again,
but Alfred remained on deck leaning against the bulwarks of the
vessel, his eyes and his thoughts intently fixed upon the streaming
pennants of the men-of-war, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he
was reminded that he no longer could follow up his favourite pro-
fession. The SHcrifice that he had made to his family was indeed
great. He had talked lightly of it before them, not wishing them to
believe that it was so. He had not told his father that he had passed
his examination for lieutenant before he had been paid off at Ports-
mouth ; and that his captain, who was very partial to him, had
promised that he should soon be advancerl in the service. He had
not told them that all his wishes, all his hopes, the most anxious
desire of his existence, which was to become a post-captain, and in
command of a fine frigate, were blighted by this sacrifice he had
made for them and their comfort. He had concealed all this, and
assumed a mirth which he did not feel; but now that he was alone,
and the pennant was once more presented to his view, his regrets
could not be controlled. He sighed deeply, and turning away with
his arms folded, said to himself — " I have done my duty. It is hard,
after having served so long, and now just arrived at the time in
which I have reason to expect my reward — to rise in the service —
distinguish myself by my zeal, aud obtain a reputation, which, if it
pleased God, 1 would have done — very hard, to have to leave it now,
and to be hid in the woods, with an axe in my hand ; but how could
I leave my father, my mother, and my brothers and sistera, to
encounter so much ditficulty and privation by themselves, when I
have a strong arm to help them 1 No 1 no ! — I have done my duty
to those who ever did their duty to me, and I trust that my own
conscience will prove my reward, and check that repining which we
are too apt to feel when it pleases Heaven to blight what appear to
be our fairest prospects. ... I say, my good fellow," said Alfred,
after a while, to a man in a boat, "what is the name of that fifty -gun
ship?"

" I don't know which ship has fifty guns, or which has a hundred,"
replied the Irishman ; " but if you mean the biggest of the three,
she is called the Portsmouth."

" The Portsmouth \ the very ship Captain Lumley was appointed
to," cried Alfred. " I must go on board."

Alfred ran down to the cabin, and requested the captain of the

Ijti

till

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

transport, whose name was Wilaoa, to allow him the small boat to
go on board the man-of-war. His request was granted, and Alfred
was soon up the side of the Portsmouth. There were some of his old
messmates on the quarter-deck, who welcomed him heartily, for he
was a great favourite. Shortly afterwards, he sent down a message
by the steward, requesting that Captain Lumley would see him, and
was immediately afterwards ordered to go into the cabin.

" Well, Mr. Campbell," said Captain Lumley, " so you have joined
us at last ; better late than never. You're but just in time. I thought
you would soon get over that foolish whim of yours, which you
mentioned in your letter to me, of leaving the service, just after you
had passed, and had such good chance of promotion. What could
have put it into your head?"

" Nothing, sir," replied Alfred, " but my duty to my parents. It
is a most painful step for me to take, but I leave you to judge
whether I can do otherwise."

Alfred then detailed to Captain Lumley all that had occurred, the
resolution which his father and mother had taken, and their being
then on board the timber-ship, and about to proceed to their new
destination.

Captain Lumley heard Alfred's story without interruption, and
then, after a pause, said, " I think you are right, my boy, and it does
you honour. Where you are going to, I have no doubt but your
courage and your protection will be most important. Yet it is a
pity you should be lost to the service."

" I feel it most sincerely, sir, I assure you, but — "

" But you sacrifice yourself ; I know that. I admire the resolution
of your father and mother. Few could have the courage to have
taken such a step — few women, especially. I shall call upon them
and pay my respects. In half an hour I shall be ready, and you
shall accompany me, and introduce me. In the meantime you can
go and see your old messmates.''

Alfred left the cabin, much flattered by the kindness of Captain
Lumley, and went down to his former messmates, with whom he
remained until the boatswain piped away the crew of the captain's
barge. He then went on deck, and as soon as the captain came up
he went into the boat. The captain followed, and they were soon on
board of the London Merchant. Alfred introduced Captain Lumley
to his father and mother ; and in the course of half an hour, being
mutually pleased with each other, an intimacy was formed, when
Captain Lumley observed — "I presume that much as you may require
your sou's assistance on your arrival at Canada, you can dispense

THR SETTLERS IN CANADA.

) small boat to
ed, and Alfred
)ome of his old
leartily, for he
own a message
d see him, and
}in.

)u have joined
ne. I thought
re, which you
just after you
What could

7 parents. It
rou to judge

occurred, the
d their being
to their new

Tuption, and

\, and it does

bt but your

Yet it is a

le resolution

ige to have

upon them

y, and you

ne you can

of Captain
whom he
e captain's
n came up
re soon on
u Lumley
5ur, being
led, when
y require
dispense

with his presence on board of this vessel. My reason for making
this observation is, that no chance should ever be thrown away.
One of my lieutenants wishes to leave the ship on family concerns.
He has applied to me, and I have considered it my duty to refuse
him, now that we are on the point of sailing, and I am unable to
procure another. But for your son's sake I will now permit him to
go, and willj if you will allow him to come on board of the Ports-
mouthy give Alfred an acting lieutenant's order. Should anything
occur on the passage out, and it is not at all impossible, it will ensure
his promotion ; even if nothing occurs, I will have his acting order
coniirojed. At Quebec he shall, of course, leave the ship and go
with you. I don't pretend to detain him from his duty ; but you
vill observe, that if he does obtain his rank, he will also obtain his
half-pay, which, if he remains in Canada with you, will be a great
assistance ; and if things should tui n out so well that you can, after
a year or two, do without him, and allow him to return to the ser-
vice, he will then have already gained the most important ste' 'ud
will, I have no doubt, soon rise to the command of a ship, x will
give you till to-morrow to decide. Alfred can come on board in the
morning and let me know."

"I think I may say. Captain Lumley," replied Mrs. Campbell,
" that my husband could have but one reason in hesitating a moment,
and that is, to ascertain whether I would like to part with my son
during our passage out. I should, indeed, be a very weak woman
if I did not make such a trifling sacrifice for his benefit, and, at the
same time, feel most grateful to you for your kind intentions towards
him. I rather think that Mr. Campbell will not find it necessary to
have till to-morrow morning to consider the proposal ; but I leave
him to answer for himself."

" I can assure you. Captain Lumley, that Mrs. Campbell has only
expressed my own feelings, and, as far as we are concerned, your
offer is most gratefully accepted."

"Then, Alfred," replied Captain Lumley, "has only to make his
appearance on board of the Portsmouth to-morrow morning, and he
will find his acting order ready for him. We sail, I believe, the day
after, if the weather is at all favourable ; so, if I have not another
opportunity to pay my respects to you, you must allow me to say
farewell now. I shall keep my eye upon your vessel during the
passage ; at all events, Alfred will, I'm very sure."

Captain Lumley shook hands with Mr. a!id Mrs. Campbell, bowed
to the rest of the cabin party, and quitted the ship. As he went
over the side, he observed to Alfred, "I perceive you have 3ome

16 THE 8BTTLBRS IN CANADA.

attractions in your party. It is quite melancholy to think that those
pretty cousins of yours should be buried in the woods of Canada.
To-morrow, at nine o'clock, then, I shall expect you — Adieu !"

Although the idea of Alfred leaving them during the passage out
was not pleasant, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were most happy at the
chance which had offered itself for their sou's advantage, and seemed
in good spirits when he took leave of them on the following morning.

" Captain Wilson, you sail so well, that I hope you will keep close
to us all the passage out," observed Alfred, as he was taking leave.

" Except you happen to come to action with an enemy, and then I
shall haul off to a respectful distance, Mr. Alfred," replied Captain
Wilson, laughing.

"That of course. Cannon-balls were never invented for ladies,
although they have no objection to balls — have they, Emma? Well,
good-bye once more I You can often see me with the spy-glass if
you feel inclined. Recollect that."

" Alfred shoved off in the boat, and was soon on board of the
Portsmouth. The following day they sailed with a fair wind and
moderate weather; the convoy now increased to 120 vessels.

We must leave Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and family on board the
London Merchant^ and follow Alfred in the Portsmouth^ during the
passage to Quebec.

For several days the weather was moderate, although the wind
was not always fair, and the convoy was kept together and in good
order. The London Merchant was never far away from the Ports-
mouth, and Alfred employed a large portion of his time, when he
was not keeping his watch, in keeping his spy-glass upon the vessel,
and watching the motions of his cousins and the rest of the family.
On board of the London Merchant they were similarly occupied, and
very often a handkerchief was waved by way of salute and recogni-
tion. At last they arrived oflF the banks of Newfoundland, and were
shrouded in a heavy fog, the men-of-war constantly firing guns, to
inform the merchant-ships in what direction they were to steer, and
the merchant- vessels of the convoy ringing their bells, to warn each
other, that they might not be run foul of.

The fog lasted two days, and was still continuing when the party
on board the London Merchant, just as they were sitting down to
dinner in the cabin heard a noise and bustle on deck. Captain
Wilson ran hastily up, and found that his vessel had been boarded
by a French boat's crew, who had beaten down the men and taken
possession. As there was no help, all he could do was to go down
to the cabin and inform his passengers that they were prisoners.

iii

think that thosa
ods of Canada.
-Adieu!"
the passage out
t happy at the
ige, and seemed
)wing morning,
will keep close
taking leave,
my, and then I
eplied Captain

ted for ladies,
Emma? Well,
tie spy.glass if

board of the
fair wind and
essels.

on board the
thy during tlie

igh the wind
' and in good
m the Ports-
me, when he
)n the vessel,
f the family,
•ccupied, and
and recogni-
nd, and were
•ing guns, to
to steer, and
warn each

'n the party
ng down to
Captain
en boarded

and taken
io go down

prisoners.

'Il

TBI BETTLSRS IK CANADA. 17

The shock of this intelligence was very great, as may be supposed,
but Btiil there was no useless lamentation or weeping. One thing is
certain, that this news quite spoilt their appetite for their dinner,
wliich, however, was soon despatched by the French officer and his
men, after the boat had left and the vessel's head had been put in
an opposite direction.

Captain Wilson, who had returned on deck, came down in about
a quarter of an hour, and informed the party, who were silently
brooding over this sudden change in their prospects, that the wind
W!i8 very light, and that he thought the fog was clearing off a little,
and that if it did so before it was dark he was in great hopes that
they should be recaptured. This intelligence appeared to revive the
hopes of Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, and they were still more encour-
aged when they heard the sounds of guns at no very great distance.
In a few minutes afterwards the cannonading became very furious,
and the Frenchmen who were on board began to show strong signs
of uneasiness.

The fact was, that a French squadron of one sixty-gun ship and
two corvettes had been on the look-out for the convoy, and had
come in among them during the fog. They had captured and taken
possession of several vessels before they were discovered, but the
sixty-gun ship at last ran very near to the Portsmouth, and Alfred,
who had the watch and was on a sharp look-out, soon perceived
through the looming fog that she was not one of the convoy. He
ran down to acquaint the captain, and the men were immediately
ordered to their quarters, without beating the drum or making any
noise that might let the enemy know they were so near. The yards
were then braced in, to check the way of the Portsmouth, so that the
strange vessel might come up with her. Silence was kept fore and
aft, not a whisper was to be hoard ; and as the Frenchman neared
them, they perceived a boat putting off from her to board another
vessel close to them, and also heard the orders given to the men in
the French language. This was sufficient for Captain Lumley: he
put, the helm down and poured a raking broadside into the enemy,
who was by no means prepared for such a sudden salute, although
her guns were cast loose, ready for action, in case of accident. The
answer to the broadside was a cry of " Vive la Republique/" and in
a few seconds both ships were hotly engaged — the Portsmouth hav-
ing the advantage of lying upon the bow of her antagonist.

As is often the case, the heavy cannonading brought on a dead
calm, and the two ships remained in their respective positions,
except that the Portsmouth's was the more favourable, having drawn

Di 1

THE SETTLKRS IN CAITADA.

ahead of the Freuch vessel, so that her broadside was poured iuto
her opponeut without her being able to return the fire from more
than four or five of her guns. The fog became more opaque than
ever ; the two ships had neared each other considerably, or it would
have been impossible to distinguish. All that they could see from
the deck of the Portsmouth was the jib-boom and cap of the bow-
sprit of the Frenchman ; the rest of her bowsprit, and her whole hull,
were lost in the impenetrable gloom ; but that was sufficient for the
men to direct their guns, and the fire from the Portsmouth was moat
rapid, although the extent of its execution wa8 unknown. After
half an hour of incessant broadsides the two vessels hud approached
each other so close that the jib-boom of the Frenchman WiiS pointed
between the fore and main rigging of the Portsmouth. Captain
Lumley immediately gave orders to lash the Frenchman's bowsprit
to his mainmast, and this was accomplished by the first lieutenant,
Alfred, and the seamen, without any serious loss, for the fog was
still so thick that the Frenchmen on their forecastle could not per-
ceive what was doing at their bowsprit's cap.

•She is ours now," said Captain Lumley to the first lieutenant.

" Yes, sir — fast enough. I think, if the fog were to clear away,
they would haul down their colours."

"Not till the Ifwt, depend upon it," replied Captain Lumley.
" Fire away there on the main-deck, give them no time to take
breath. Mr. Campbell, tell the second lieutenant to let the foremost
lower-deck guns be pointed more aft. I say, not till the last," re-
peated Captiiin Lumley to the first lieutenant; "these Republicans
will take a great deal of beating, even upon the water."

'* It's clearing uj>, sir, to the northward a little,' said the master.

"I see — yes, it is," replied Captain Lumley. "Well, the sooner
the better; we shall see what has become of all the shot we have
been throwing away."

A white, silvery line appeared on the horizon, to the northward;
gradually it increased, and as it rose up, became broader, till at last
the curtain was lifted up, and a few feet were to be seen above the
clear blue water. As it continued to aj)proach, the light became
more vivid, the apace below increased, and the water was ruffled
with the coming wind, till at last the fog rolled off as if it had been
gr'\dually furled, and sweeping away in a heavy bank to leeward,
exposed the state and position of the whole convoy, and the con-
tending vessels. The English seamen on board of the Poi'tsmouth
cheered the return of daylight, as it might truly be termed. Captain
Lumley found that they had been contending in the very centre of

■ ■*^*»-

THE SETTLERS IK CANADA.

the convoy, which was still lying around them, with the exception of
about fifteen vessels, which were a few miles apa.'t, with their heads
in an opposite direction. TIuhu were evidently those which had
been captured. The two frigates, which had been stationed in the
rear of the convoy, were still two or three miles disUint, but making
all sail to come up and assist the Portsmouth. Many of the convoy,
which hjid been in the direction of the fire, appeared to have suffered
in their masts and sails; but whether any injury had been received
in their hulls it was not possible to say. The French line-of-battle
ship had suffered dreadfully from the fire of the Portsmouth. Her
main-mast and mizen-mast were over the side, her forward ports
were many of them almost l)eat into one, and everything on board
ap{)eared to be in the greatest confusion.

" She caTi't stand this long," observed Captain Lumley. " Fire
away, my lads! "

" The Circe and Vixen are coming down to us, sir," observed the
first lieutenant ; " we do not want them, and they will only be an
excuse for the Frenchman to surrender to a superior force. If they
I recaptured the vessels taken, they would be of some service."

" Very true. Mr. Campbell, make their signal to pursue captured
vessels."

Alfred ran aft to obey the orders. The flags had just flown out at

[the niJist-head when he received a bullet through his arm; for the

French, unable to use the major portion of their guns, had, when the

jfog cleared up, poured in incessant volleys of musketry upon the

[decks of the Portsmouth. Alfred desired the quarter-master to untie

his neck-handkerchief for him, and bind up his arm. Having so

Idone, he continued to do his duty. A bold attempt was now made

[by the French to clear their vessel by cutting the fastening of the

i bowsprit; but the marines of the Portsmouth were prepared for them,

and after about twenty gallant fellows had dropped down on the

fbooms and gangways of the Portsmouth, the attempt was given up,

and four minutes afterwards tlie French colours were hauled down.

She was boarded from her bowsprit by the firs^. lieutenant and a

party of seamen. The la.sliings were cast oflf, and th«^ vessels cleared

of each other, and then the English seamen gave three cheers in

Ihonour of the victory.

THE 8KTTLER8 IN CANADA.

CHAPTER V.

ill

IS'

The Freiicli Bixty-giin ship ])roved to be the Ltonidaa; she had
lieen sent out with two hir<,'e frigates on purpose to intercept the
convoy, but she had parted with her consorts in a gale of wind.
Her loss of men was very great ; that on board of the Portsmouth
was trifling. In a couple of hours the Portsmouth and her prize in
tow were ready to proceed with the convoy, but they still remained
hove to, to wait for the frigates which were in chase of the captured
vessels. All of these were speedily come up with except the London
Merchant^ which sailed so remarkably well. At last, to the great
joy of Alfretl (who, as soon as the bullet hud been extracted and his
arm dressed, had held his telescope fixed upon the chase), she hove
to, and was taken possession of. Before night, the convoy were
again collected together, and were steering for their destination.
The next morning was clear, and the breeze moderate. Mrs. Camp-
bell, who, as well as all the rest, was verj' anxious about Alfred,
requested C\iptain Wilson to run down to the Portsmouth^ that they
might ascertain if he was safe. Captain Wilson did as she requested,
and writing in chalk " all well " in large letters upon the log-board,
held it over the side as he passed close to the Portsmouth. Alfred
was not on deck — fever had compelled him to remain in his ham-
mock — but Captain Luniley made the same reply on the log-board of
the Portsmouth, and Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were satisfied.

" How T should like to see him !" said Mrs. Campbell.

"Yes, Madam," observed Captain Wilson, "but they have too
much to do on board of the Portsmouth just now; they have to
repair damages and to look after the wounded ; they have a great
quantity of prisoners on board, as you may see, for a great many are
now on the booms; they have no time for compliments."

" That is very true," replied Mr. Campbell, " we must wait till we
arrive at Quebec." \

" But we did not see Alfred," said Emma.

" No, Miss, because he was busy enough below, and I dare say no
one told hira. They have said that all's well, and that is sufficient ;
and now we must haul oflf again, for with such a heavy ship in tow,
Captain Lumley will not thank me if I am always coming so close
to him."

" I am satisfied. Captain Wilson ; pray do nothing that might dis-
please Captain Lumley. We shall soon see Alfred, I dare say, with
the spy-glass."

V^i^fezc.

THE BVTTLRRfl IN CANADA.

t wait till we

"I nee him now!" said Mary Percival; "he haa his telescope, and
he is waving hi« hat to nic."

"Thank God!" replied Mrs. Campbell; "now I am gatisfied.

The Portsmouth cast off the French line-of-battle ship as soon as
they hud jury-maata up and could make sail on them, and the convoy
proceeded to the mouth of the St. Lawrence.

"Captain Wilson," said Percival, whose eyes were fixed on the
water, " what animals are those, tumbling about and blowing — those
great white things]"

"They are what are called the white whale, ^ereival," replied
(.'aptain Wilson ; "they are not often seen, exrejit about here."

"Then what is the colour of the other whales 1"

"The northern whales are black — they are called the black
whales; but the southern, or Hpermaceti whales, are not so dark in
colour."

(Viptain Wilson then, at Percival's request, gave him an . ccount
of how the whales were caught, for he had been several voyages
hiniHt'lf in the northern whale-fishery.

Percival was never tired of asking questions, and Captain Wilson
was very kind to him, and always answered him. John, generally
sjioaking, stood by when Captain Wilson w.is talking, looking very
solemn and very attentive, but not 8;iying a word.

"Well, .John," said Emma to him after the conversation had been
ended, "what was Captain Wilson telling you abouti"

" Whales," replied John, walking past her.

" Well, but is that all you can tell me, John?"

" Yes," replied John, walking away.

" At all events. Miss Emma, he keeps all his knowledge to him-
self," observed Captain Wilson, laughing.

" Yes ; I shall know nothing about the whale-fishery, unless you
will condescend to tell me yourself, that is evident," replied Emma,
taking the offered arm of (-aptain Wilson, who, at her request, ini-
i mediately resumed the subject.

In three weeks from the day of the action they had anchored off
the town of Quebec.

As soon as they had anchored, Alfred obtained leave to go on
board of the London Merchant^ and then, for the first time, his
1 family knew that he had been wounded. His arm was still in a
[sling, but was healing fast.

I shall pass over the numerous inquiries on his part relative to
I their capture and recapture, and on theirs as to the action with the
; French ship.

THE BK.TTI.RRfl IN CANADA.

m ■ 'i

urn

While they were in conviTHatioii, f'uptain Tiiimley ww« roported
to be coming on board in his l)oat. They went ou the deck of the
veiwel to receive him.

"Well, Mrs. Canjpbell," said Captain Lumley after the first
■alutations were over, "you nuiRt congratulate me on my having
captured a v »88el somewhat larger than my own ; and I must con-
gratulate you on the conduct and certain promotion of your sou
Alfred. He has richly deserved it."

" I am very thankful, (*aptain Lumley, and do moHt heartily con-
gratulate you," replied Mrs. Campbell; "1 only reyret that my l)oy
luvs been wounded."

"The very thing that you sljould, on the contrary, be thankful
for, Mrs. Campbell," replied Captain liuniley. *' It is the most
fortunate wound in the world, ;i8 it not only adds to his (claims, but
enables me to let him join you and go to (*anada with you, without
it being supposed that he has (piilted the service."

"How so, Captain I^undeyl"

"I can discharge him to sick-quarters here at Quebec. If they
think anything about it at all at home, it will be that his wound is
much more severe than it really is; and he can renj.un on half-pny
as long as he pleases. There are plenty ready to be eniployed. But
I cannot wait any longer. 1 am going on shore to call upon the
Governor, and I thought I would just see you in my way. You may
assure yourselves that if I can be of any use to you, I will not fail to
exert any little intluence I may have."

Captain Lumley then took a cordial leave of the whole party,
telling Alfred that he might consider himself as discharged from the
ship, and might rejoin his fj ^My.

"Heaven sends us friends when we most need them and lea«t
expect them," said Mrs. Campbell, as she watched the boat pulling
away. " Who would have imai^'ined, when we anchored at Cork,
that sucli good fortune should have awaited us; and that, at the
very time Alfred had given up his j)rofesaion for our sake, his pro-
motion in the service was awaiting him?"

Shortly afterwards Mrs. Campbell and Henry went on shore with
Cai)tain Wilson to look out for lodgings, and present the letters of
introduction which he had received for some Quebec merchants. As
they were looking for lodgings in company with a Mr. Farquhar,
who had kindly volunteered to assist them, they met Captain Lum-
ley ou his return from the Governor.

" T am glad to have met you, Mrs. Campbell," said Captain
Lumley. " I found, on paying my respects to the Governor, that

if]"

TUB SKTTf.irRfl \n CAKADA.

r VTM roportp«l
he deck of the

ifter the tlrnt
on my having
(i I must cnn-
1 of your Bon

. lieartily ct)U-
t that my ])oy

, be thankfiil
I iH the niout
lis claini8, but
1 you, without

bpc. If they
Ilia wound is
n on lialf-pny
JI)h»yed. But
;all upon the
y. You may
■ill not fail to

whole party,
ged from the

m and least
)oat pulling
ed at Cork,
that, at the
ke, his pro-
shore with
le letters of
chants. As
Farquhar,
ptain Lu ra-
id Captain
eriior, that

, there i« what they call the Admiralty House here, which ii kept
;^;j/urniiiheJ by (iovernment for the imnior officeni of his Majeaty'a
^iahipR. It is at my diRpoHal ; and an the Governor ban re<\uefit«<i me
t<) take up my ab«;de at f Iovernment House, I l)eg you will consider
jit at your service. You will find better accommodation there than
^lin Uxlgings, an<l it will wive you considerable expenHe."
^ " We need lo(»k no further, Miti. Campbell," Bai<i Mr. Farquhar.
Mrs. CHm|)bell expreHHed her ackiiowlcdgmenta toCaptniu Lumley,
und returned on board with this pleajuing intelligence.

"Oh, Alfred, how much we are indebted to you, my dear boy I"
■aid Mrs. Campbell.

"To me, mother?— to Captain TiUmley, I should rather think."
^? " Yes, to Caj)tain Lumley, I grant ; but still it has been your good
conduct when under his command which has made him attached to
Vyou ; and it is to that we owe his acquaintance, and all the kindness
;we have received from him."
f| The next day the family disembarked and took possession of the
'Admiralty House. Mr. Farquhar procured thera a female servant,
|;who, with a man and his wife left in charge of the house, supplied
all the attendance they required. Mr. Campbell settled with Cap-
tain Wilson, who very generously refused to take any money for
Alfred's passage, as he had not remained on board of the London
'Merchant: promising, however, to accept their invitation to come to
them whenever he could find leisure, he took leave of them for the
present, and they were left alone in their new residence.

In a few df*ys the Campbells found themselves comfortably settled
|in the Admiralty House; but they haa ^'> intention of remaining
Hherr, longer thau was necessary, as, notwithstanding the accommo-
dation, their residence at Quebec was attended with expense, and
Mr. Campbell was aware that he had no money to throw away.

On the fourth day after their landing Captain Lumley called to

itake leave; but the day previous he had introduced them to the

^Governor, who returned Mr. Campbell's call, and appeared to be

Pmuch interested in their welfare, owing, of course, to the representa-

iHions of Captain Lumley. It was not, therefore, surprising that they

|«hould part with regret from one who had proved himself such a

kind friend, and many were the expressions of gratitude which

were made by the whole party. Captain Lumley shook hands with

them all ; and, assuring Alfred that he would not lose sight of his

interests, wished them every success and left the house. An hour

^.afterwards the Portsmouth was under weigh, and running out with

c» tine breeze.

(M53) C

THE 8BTTLXR8 IN CANADA.

On the following day the Governor requested Mr. Campbell would
call upoi. him ; and when they met, he pointed out to him that he
would have great difficulties, and, he was fearful, great hardships, to
encounter in following up his plan of settling in Upper Canada. He
did not dissuade him from so doing, as he had nothing more promis-
ing to offer, which might induce him to change his mind, but he
thought it right to forewarn him of trials, that he might be well
prepared.

" I feel, of course, a strong interest in any English family so well
brought up, and accustomed, as I find yours hao been, to luxury,
being placed in such a situation; and the interest which my old friend.
Captain Lumley, takes in you is quite sufficient to induce me to
offer you every assistance in my power : that you may depend upon,
Mr. Campbell. The Surveyor-general is coming here immediately.
I must first introduce you to him, as it is from him that the land must
be obtained, and of course he can advise you well on the point of
locality ; but you must recollect that it is not much more than thirty
years since these provinces have been surrendered to Great Britain,
and that not only the French population, but the Indians, are very
hostile to the English, for the Indians were, and still are, firm allies
to the French, and detest us. I have been reflecting upon the atlair,
and I hope to be of some service to you; if I am not, it will not, I
assure you, be from any want of will ; under every advantage which
may be procured for you, at all events, you will require stout hearts
and able hands. Your son Alfred will be of great service, but we
must try and procure you some other assistance that can be trusted."

A long conversation then took place between the Governor and Mr.
Campbell, during which the latter received much valuable informa-
tion : it was interrupted, however, by the arrival of the Surveyor-
general, and the topic was resumed.

" The land that I would procure to Mr. Campbell," observed the
Surveyor-general after a time, "if there is no objection to part
with it, is a portion of what has been laid aside as government
reserve on this part of the Lake Ontario; there are lands to be
obtained nearer to Montreal, but all the land of good quality has
been purchased. This land, you will observe, Mr. Campbell, is
peculiarly good, having some few a^^es of what we call prairie, or
natural meadow. It has also the advantage of running with a large
frontage on the beach, and there is a small river on one side of it ;
besides, it is not a great distance, perhaps four or five miles, from
Fort Frontiguac, and it might be easy to obtain assistance if re-
quired."

THE SBTTLKRS IV CANADA.

Campbell would
to him that he
sat hardships, to
•er Canada. He
ig more promis-
8 mind, but he
might be well

I family so well
Ben, to luxury,
I my old friend,
induce me to
7 dopend upon,
3 immediately.
t the land must
n the point of
are than thirty
Great Britain,
lians, are very
ire, firm allies
pon the atJair,
it will not, I
'antage which
e stout hearts
rvice, but we
Q be trusted."
rnor and Mr.
ible informa-
le Surveyor-

)b8erved the
ion to part
government
lands to be
quality has
ampbell, is
prairie, or
«^ith a large
) side of it ;
miles, from
ance if re-

The Surveyor-general pointed to a part of the map, near to
Presqu'Ile de Quiute, as he made this observation to the Governor.

"I agree with you," replied the Governor, "and I observe that
there is already a settler on the other side of the stream."

"Yes, sir," replied the Surveyor; "that allotment was granted
before it was decided that the rest should be a government reserve;
and if proof were required of the goodness of the land, it would be
found in the person who took it. It was taken four years ago by
the old hunter Malachi Bone ; he has been over every part of it, of
course, and knows what it is. You recollect the man, don't you,
sir? He was a guide to the English army before the surrender of
Quebec; General Wolfe had a high opinion of him, and his services
were so good that he was allowed that tract of 150 acres."

" I now remember him," replied the Governor, " but as I have not
seen him for so many years, he had escaped my recollection."

" It will be a great advantage to you, Mr. Campbell, having this
man as a neighbour."

" Now," continued the Governor, addressing the Surveyor-general,
'•«lo you know of any person who would be willing to serve Mr.
Campbell, and who can be depended upon ; of course, one who
understands the country, and who would be really useful?"

" Yes, Governor, I do know a very good man, and you know him
also; but you know the worst part of him, for he is generally in
trouble when you see hiiu."

"Who is that?"

" Martin Su])er, the trapper."

" Why, that is the young fellow who breeds such disturbances,
and who, if I recollect right, is now in prison for a riot."

"The very same, sir: but Martin Super, although a troublesome
fellow at Quebec, is worth his weight in gold when he is out of the
town. You may think it stmnge, Mr. Campbell, that I should re-
commend a man who appears to be so unruly a character; but the
fact is that the trappers who go in pursuit of the game for their
skins, after having lu-en out for months, undergoing every privation
that can be imagined, return home with their package? of skins,
whicli they dispose of to the merchants of ti/'^ town ; and as soon as
they have their money, they never cease their revelry of every de-
scription until their earnings are all gone, and then they set off again
on their wild and venturous pursuit. Now Martin Super, like all
the rest, must have his fun when he comes back, and being a very
wild fellow, he is often in scrapes when he has drunk too much, so
that he is occasionally put into prison for being riotous; but I know

THE SKTTLEUS IN CANADA.

ii^

him well, he has been with me surveying for niontlis, and v/hen he
is on service a more steady, active, and brave man 1 do not know."

"I believe you are right in recommending him," observed the
Governor; "he will not be eorry to get out of the jail, and I have
no doubt but that he will conduct himself well if he once agrees to
take your service, Mr. Campbell, for one or two yeai-s. As for the
Canadians, they are very harmless, but at the same time very use-
less. There are excej)tion8, no doubt; but their general character is
anything but that of activity and courage. As I said before, you
will require stout hearts, and Martin Super is one, that is certain.
Perhaps you can arrange this for Mr. Campbell?"

The Surveyor-general promised to do so ; shortly after which Mr.
Campbell, with many thanks, took his leave of the Governor.

Mr. Campbell, who had gained every possible information relative
to what would be most necessary for him to take with him, was
actively employed for a fortnight in making his purchases. During
this time much attention was shown to them both by the English
and French residents at Quebec. Alfred, whose wound vras now
nearly healed, was as active as usual, and Henry was of great assist-
ance to his father in taking inventories and making out lists, &c.
Nor were Mrs, Campbell and the two girls unemployed ; they had
purchased the coarse manufactures of the country, and were very
busy making dresses for themselves and for the children. Mr.
Campbell had been one morning at Mr. Farquhar's, the merchant's,
to make inquiries about a conveyance i p to his new purchase (for he
had concluded his arrangements with the Surveyor-general), when
the Governor sent a message by one of his aides-de-camp, to say that
it was his intention in the course of ten days to send a detachment
of soldiers up to Fort Frontignac — news having been received that
the garrison was weakenetl by a fever which had broken out; and
that if Mr. Campl)ell would like to avail himself of the opportunity,
he and his family, and all his luggage, should go under the escort of
the officer and troops. T'lis offer was, of course, joyfully ..ccepted,
and on Mr. Campbell's calling upon the Governor to return his
thanks, the latter told him that there would be plenty of room in the
bateaux and canoes for them and all their luggage, and that he need
not give himself further trouble, or incur any further expense.

iSl !

fl, and v/hen he
do not know."
" observed the
fiil, and I have
5 once agrees to
•8. As for the
time very use-
ral character is
lid before, you
that is certain.

Fter which Mr.
veriior.

aatiou relative
^ith him, was
ases. During
•y the English
und vraa now
)f great assist-
out lists, &c.
ed ; they had
id were very
ildren. Mr.
e merchant's,
•chase (for he
sneral), when
, to say that
detachment
eceived that
eu out; and
opportunity,
'he escort of
ly ..ccepted,
return his
room in the
lat he need
jense.

TUK SKTTLERS IN CANADA.

CIIAPTEK VI.

The next day the Surveyor -general called, bringing with him
!Martiii Super, the tr;ii)per.

"Mr. Campbell," said the Surveyor, "this is my fritnd Martin
Super; I have spoken to him, and he has consented to take service
for one year, and he will remain if he is satisfied. If he serves you
as well as he has served me when I have travelled through the
coimtry, I have no doubt but you will rind him a valuable assistant."

Martin Super was rather tall, very straight-limbed, showing both
activity and strength. Mis head was smaller than usually is the
case, which gave him the appearance of great lightness and agility.
His coui.:,enance was very pleiis'ng, being expressive of continual
good-humour, which was indeed but corresponding to his real char-
acter, lie was dressed in a sort of hunting-coat of deer-skin, blue
cloth leggings, a cap of raccoon's skin, with a broad belt round hit?
waist, in which he wore his knife,

"Now, Martin Super, I will read the terms of the agreement
between you and Mr. Campbell, that you may see if all is aa you
wish."

The Surveyor -general read the agreement, and Martin Super
nodded his hen 1 in acquiescence.

"Mr. Campbell, if you are satisfied, you may now sign it; Martin
shall do the same."

Mr. Campbell signed his name, and handed the pen to Martin
Super, who then for the first time spoke.

"Surveyor, I don't know how my name is spelt; and if I did, I
couldn't write it, so I must do it Indian fashion, and put my totem
to it."

"What is your name among the Indians, Martin?"

"The Painter," replied Martin, who then made, under Mr.
Campbell's signature, a figure like
saying, "There, that's my name as
near as I can draw it."

"Very good," replied the Surveyor-
general; "here is the document all right, Mr. Campbell. Ladies,
I fear I must run away, for I have an engagement. I will leave
Martin Super, Mr. Campbell, as you would probably like a little
conversation together."

The Surveyor - general then took his leave, and Martin Super
remained. Mrs. Campbell wa.s the first who spoke :

i I

1^ .il

;

1 ii

^1 il

4\\

111

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

"Super," said she, "I hope we shall be very good friends; but no>
tell me what you mean by your — totem, I think you called if?"

"Why, Ma'am, a totem is an Indian's mark, and you know I am
almost an Indian myself. All the Indian chiefs have their totems.
One is called the Great Otter, another the Serpent, and so on, and
so they sign a figure like the animal they are named from. Then,
Ma'am, you see, we trappers, who almost live with them, have names
given to us also, and they have called me the Painter."

"Why did they name you the Painter?"

"Because I killed two of them in one day."

"Killed two painters?" cried the girls.

"Yes, Miss; killed them both with my rifle."

"But why did you kill the men?" said Emma; "was it in battle?'

" Kill the men. Miss ! I said nothing about men : I said I killed
two painters," replied Martin, laughing, and showing a row of teeth
as white as ivory.

"What is a painter, then. Super?" inquired Mrs. Campbell.

" Why it's an animal, and a very awkward creature, I can tell you,
sometimes."

" The drawing is something like a panther, Mamma," exclaimed
Mary.

" Well, Miss, it may be a panther, but we only know them by the
other name."

Mr. Farquhar then came in, and the question was referred to him ;
he laughed and told them t'aai painters were a species of panther, not
spotted, but tawny-coloured, and at times very dangerous.

"Do you know the part of the country where we are going to?"
said Henry to Su|)er.

" Yes, I have trapped thereabouts for mouths, but the beavers are
scarce now."

"Are there any other animals there?"

" Yes," replied Martin, " small game, as we term it."

"What sort are they?"

" Why, there's painters, and bears, and eata'mountains."

" Mercy on us ! do ^'ou call that small game ? why, what must the
large be, then?" said Mrs. Campbell.

"Buffaloes, Missus, is what we call big game."

"But the animals you speak of are not good eating. Super," said
Mrs. Campbell ; " is there no game that we can eat?"

" Oh, yes, plenty of deer and wild turkey, and bear's good eating,
I reckon."

'' Ah ! that sounds better."

TMK SBTTLERS IN CANADA.

riends; but no>
I called it?"
you know I am
ve their totems,
and 80 ou, and
d from. Then,
em, have naxnea

.»

as it in battle V

I said I killed

[ a row of teeth

ampbell.

, I can tell you,

DQa," exclaimed

w them by the

ferred to him ;

)f panther, not

ous.

ire going to?"

le beavers are

IS."

'hat must the

Super," said
good eating,

After an hour's conversation, Martin Super was dismissed; the
whole of the family (except Alfred, who was not at home) very much
pleased with what they had seen of him.

A few days after this, Martin Super, who had now entered upon
service, and was very busy with Alfred, with whom he had already
become a favourite, was sent for by Mr. Campbell, who read over to
him the inventory of the articles which they had, and inquired of him
if there was anything else which might be necessary or advisable to
take with them.

" You said something about guns," replied Martin, " what sort of
guns did you nieanl"

" We have three fowling-pieces and three muskets, besides pistols."

"Fowling-pieces — they are bird-guns, I believe, — no use at all;
muskets are soldiers' tools — no use ; pistols are pops, and nothing
better. You have no rifles; you can't go into the woods without
j 'WB rifles. I have got mine, but you must have some."

" Well, I believe you are right, Martin ; it never occurreu to me.
How many ought we to have?"

"Well, that's according — how many be you in family]"

" We are five males and three females."

" Well, then, sir, say ten rifles ; that will be quite sufficient. Two
apare ones in case of accident," replied Martin.

" Why, Martin," said Mrs. Campbell, " you do not mean that the
children and these young ladies and I are to fire off rifles]"

" I do mean to say, Ma'am, that before I was as old as that little
boy," pointing to John, " I could hit a mark well ; and a woman
ought at least to know how to prime and load a rifle, even if she does
not fire it herself. It is a deadly weapon. Ma'am, and the greatest
leveller in creation, for the trigger pulled by a child will settle the
business of the stoutest man. I don't mean to say that we may be
ciilled to use them in that way, but it's always better to have them,
and to let other people know that you have them, and all ready
loaded too, if required."

" Well, Martin," said Mr. Campbell, " I agree with you, it is better
to be well prepared. We will have the ten rifles, if we can aflford to
purchase them. What will they cost?"

"About sixteen dollars will purchase the best, sir; but I think I
had better choose them for you, and try them before you purchase."

" Do so, then. Super ; Alfred will go with you as soon as he comes
back, and you and he can settle the matter."

" Why, Super," observed Mrs. Campbell, " you have quite fright-
ened U8 women at the idea of so many firearms being required."

'■b

■1

III

I '^ ■

'I'i

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

** If Pontiac was alive, Missus, they would all be required, but he's
gone now ; still there are many outlying Indians, as we call them,
who are no better than they should be ; and I always like to see rifles
ready loaded. Why, Ma'am, suppose now that all the men were out
in the woods, and a bear should pay you a visit during our absence,
would it not be just as well to have a loaded rifle ready for him ; and
would not you or the young misses willingly prefer to pull the trigger
at him than to be hugged in his fashion?"

" Martin, you have quite convinced me : I shall not only learn to
load a rifle, but to fire one also."

" And I'll teach the boys the use of them, Ma'am, and they will
then add to your defence."

" You shall do so, Martin," replied Mrs. Campbell ; " I am con-
vinced that you are quite right."

When Super had quitted the room, which he did soon afterwards,
Mr. Campbell observed — " I hope, my dear, that you and the girls are
not terrified by the remarks of Martin. It is necessary to be well
armed when isolated as we shall be, and so far from any assistance ;
but it does not follow, because we ought to be prepared against
danger, that such danger should occur."

" I can answer for myself, my dear Cam[)bell," replied his wife ;
* I am prepared, if necessary, to meet danger, and do what a weak
woman can do; and I feel what Martin says is but too true, that,
with a rifle in the hand, a woman or a child is on a par with the
strongest man."

" And 1, my dear uncle," said Mary Percival, " shall, I trust, with
the blessing of God, know how to do my duty, however peculiar the
circumstances may be to a female."

"And I, my dear uncle," followed up Emma, laughing, "infinitely
prefer firing off a rifle to being hugged by a bear or an Indian,
because of two evils one should always choose the least."

" Well, then, I see Martin has done no harm, but, on the contrary,
he has done good. It is always best to be prepared for the worst,
and to trust to Providence for aid in peril."

At last all the purchases were completed, and everything was
packed up and ready for embarkation. Another message from the
Governor was received, stating that in three days the troops would
be embarked, and also informing Mr. Campbell that if he had not
purchased any cows or horses, the oflBcer at Fort Frontignac had
more cattle than were requisite, and could supply him ; which, per-
haps, would be preferable to carrying them up so far. Mr. Campbell
had spoken about, but not finally settled for, the cows, and therefore

^^•^i

s?|

TIJK SKTTLEI18 IN CANADA.

quired, but he'a
we call them,
ike to see rifles
'■ men were out
g our absence,
y for him ; and
pull the trigger

t only learn to

and they will

; "I am con-

>n afterwards,
d the girls are
try to be well
ny assistance ;
)ared against

ied his wife;
what a weak
)o true, that,
par with the

I trust, with
peculiar the

•, " infinitely
an Indian,

he contrary,
r the worst,

ything "was
fe from the
oops would

e had not
tignac had
vhich, per-

Carapbell
i therefore

was ^\iid to accept the Governor's oflfer. This nit'ssage was accom-
panied with a note of invitjition to Mr. Campbell, the ladies, and
Henry and Alfred, to take a farewell dinner at Government House
i the day before their departure. The invitation was accepted, and Mr.
Chrapbell was introduced to the officer commanding the detachment
• which was about to proceed to Fort Frontignac, and received from
I hirii every a.s.surance of his doing all he could to make them comfort-
I aide. The kindness of the Governor did not end here: he desired
I tlie officer to take two large tents for the use of Mr. Canipbell, to be
I returned to the foi t when the house had been built and they were
;; completely settled.

CHAPTER VIL

Although it was now the middle of May, it was but a few days
before their departure that there was the least sign of verdure, or the
trees had burst into leaf ; but in the course of the three days before
they quitted Quebec, so rapid was the vegetation that it appeared as
if summer had come upon them all at once. The heat was also very
great, although, when they had lauded, the weather was piercing
cold; but in Canada, as well as in all Northern America, the transi-
tions from heat to cold, and from cold to heat, are very rapid.

Mr. Campbell found that, after all his expenses, he had still three
hundred pounds left, and this money he left in the Quebec Bank,
to use as he might find necessary. His expenditure had been very
great. First, there was the removal of so large a family, and the
passage out ; then he had procured at Liverpool a large quantity of
cutlery and tools, furniture, &c., all of which articles were cheaper
there than at Quebec. At Quebec he had also much to purchase :
all the most expensive portion of his house ; such as windows ready
glazed, stoves, boarding for floors, cupboards, and partitions; salt
provisions, crockery of every description, two small waggons ready
to be put together, several casks of nails, and a variety of things
which it would be too tedious to mention. Procuring these, with the
exj)en8es cf living, had taken away all his money, except the three
hundred pounds I have mentioned.

It was on the 13th of May that the embarkation took place, and it
was not until the afternoon that all was prepared, and Mrs. Campbell
and her nieces were conducted down to the bateaux, which lay at the
wharf, with the troops all ready on board of them. The Governor

I M

i M !

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

•I i

I- I'

i HI

' i

and his aides-de-camp, besides many other influential people of
Quebec, escorted them down, and as soon as they had paid their
adieus, the word was given, the soldiers in the bateaux gave three
cheers, and away they went from the wharf into the stream. For a
short time there was waving of handkerchiefs and other tokens of
good-will on the part of those who were on the wharf; but that was
soon left behind them, and the family found themselves sepaiated
from their acquaintances and silently listening to the measured sound
of the oars as they dropped into the water.

And it is not to be wondered at that they were silent, for all were
occupied with their own thoughts. It was the commencement of a
new life they were entering upon, for which they felt themselves
little adapted after the luxuries they had enjoyed in their former
condition ; but if their thoughts and reminiscences made them grave
and silent, they did not make them despairing or repining; they
trusted to that Power who alone could protect — who gives and who
takes away, and doeth with us as he judges best; and if hope was not
buoyant in all of them, still there was confidence, resolution, and re-
signation. Gradually they were roused from their reveries by the
beauty of the scenery and the novelty of what met their sight ; the
songs, also, of the Canadian boatmen were musical and cheering, and
by degrees they had all recovered their usual good spirits.

Alfred was the first to shake oflF his melancholy feelings and to
attempt to remove them from others; nor was he unsuccessful. The
officer who commanded the detachment of troops, and who was in the
same bateau with the family, had respected their silence upon their
departure from the wharf — perhaps he felt much as they did. His
name was Sinclair, and his rank that of senior captain in the regi-
ment — a handsome, florid young man, tall and well made, very
gentleman-like, and very gentle in his manners.

"How very beautiful the foliage is on that point, Mother!" said
Alfred, first breaking the silence, "what a contrast between the
leaves of the sycamore, so transparent and yellow, with the sun
behind them, and the new shoots of the spruce fir."

"It is, indeed, very lovely," replied Mrs. Campbell; "and the
branches of the trees, feathering down as they do to the surface of the
water — "

" Like good Samaritans," said Emma, " extending their arms, that
any unfortunate drowning person who was swept away by the stream
might save himself by their a/iSistance."

"I had no idea that trees had so much charity or reflection,
Emma/' rejoined Alfred.

'^1

■Ar
■,.■1

'J',.

,.t!

THB 8ETTLSRS IN CANADA.

itial people of
had paid their
lux gave three
iitream. For h
ther tokens of
; but that was
Ives separated
leasured sound

it, for all were
encement of a
ilt tliemselves
I tlieir former
le them grave
apiniug; the^
ives and who
hope was i»ot
ution, and re-
veries by the
iir sight; the
cheering, and
ts.

jlings and to
cessfiil. The
10 was in the
3 upon their
'■y did. His
in the resri-
made, very

>ther!" said
)etween the
ith the sun

"and the
rface of the

arms, that
the stream

reflection,

"I cannot answer for their charity, but by the side of this clear
water you must allow them reflection. Cousin," replied Emma.

"1 presume you will add vanity to their attributes?" answered
Alfred ; " for they certainly appear to be hanging over the stream
that they may look and admire themselves in the glassy mirror."

" Pretty well that for a midshipman ; I was not aware that they
used such choice language in a cockpit," retorted the young lady.

" Perhaps not. Cousin," answered A Ifred ; " but when sailors are
in the company of ladies, they become refined, from the association."

" Well, I must admit, Alfred, that you are a great deal more
polished after you have been a month on shore."

" Thank you, Cousin Emma, even for that slight admission," replied
Alfred, laughing.

" But what is that," said Mjiiy Percival, "at the point? is it a vil-
lage — one, two, three houses — just ojjening upon us?"

"That is a raft. Miss Percival, which is coming down the river,"
rt'iilied Captain Sinclair. " You will see, when we are nearer to it,
that perhaps it covers two acres of water, and there are three tiers of
timber on it. These rafts are worth many thousand pounds. They
are first framed with logs, fastened by wooden treenails, and the
timber placed within the frame. There are, perhaps, from forty to
a hundred people on this raft to guide it down the stream, and the
houses you see are built on it for the accommodation of these people.
I have seen as many as fifteen houses upon a raft, which ^,ill some-
times contain the cargoes of thirty or forty large ships."

" It is very wonderful how they guide and direct it down the
stream," said Mr. Campbell.

" It is very dexterous ; and it seems strange that such an enormous
mass can be so guided, but it is done, as you will perceive ; there
are three or four rudders made of long sweeps, and, as you may ob-
seive, several sweeps on each side."

All the paity were now standing up in the stern-sheets of the
bateau to look at the people on the raft, who amounted to about fifty
or sixty men — now running over the top to one side, and dragging
at the sweeps, which required the joint power of seven or eight men
to each of them — now passing again over to the opposite sweeps, as
directed by the steersmen. The bateau kept well in to the shore, out
of the way, and the raft passed them very quickly. As soon as it was
clear of the point, as their course to Quebec was now straight, and
there was a slight breeze down the river, the people on board of the
raft hoisted ten or fifteen sails upon different masts, to assist them
in their descent; and this again excited the admiration of the party.

i.
I

Mi]

1 !l

ii !

flip

^li

TUB HKTTI.KRS IN CANADA.

The converiuvtion now became genernl, until the bat€au,i irare
made faat to the shores of the river, while the men took their din-iorB,
which had been prepared for them before they left (Quebec. After a
repose of two hours they again started, and at nightfall arrived at
St. Anne's, where they found everything ready for their reception.
Although their beds were comi>o8ed of the leaves of the maize or
Indian corn, they were so tired that they found them very comfort-
able, and at daylight arose quite refreshed, and anxious to contiiiu»
tlieir route. Martin Super, who with the two youngest boys had
1)een placed in a separate boat, had been very attentive to the com-
forts of the ladies after their debarkation ; and it appeared that he
had quite w )u the hearts of the two boys by his amusing anecdotes
during the day.

Soon after their embarkation, the name of Pontiac being again
mentioned by Captain Sinclair, Mrs. Campbell obaerved —

" Our man. Super, mentioned that name before. I confess that 1
do not know anything of Canadian aflfairs : I know only that Pontiac
was an Indian chief. Can you. Captain Sinclair, give us any informa-
tion relative to a person who appears so well known in the province <"

"I shall be happy, Mrs. Campbell, as far as I am able, to satisfy
you. On one point I cjin certainly speak with confidence, as my
uncle was one of the detachment in the foru of Detroit at the time
that it was so nearly surprised, and he has often told the history of
the affair in my presence. Pontiac was chief of all the Lake tribes
of Indians. I will not repeat the names of the different tribes, but
Ids own particular tribe was that of the Ottawas. He ruled at the
time that the Canadas were surrendered to us by the French. At
first, although very proud and haughty, and claiming the sovereignty
of the country, he was very civil to the English, or at least appeared
so to be; for the French had given us so bad a reputation with all
the northern tribes that they had hitherto shown nothing but the
most determined hostility, and appeared to hate our very name.
They are now inclined to quiet, and it is to be hoped their fear of
us, after the several conflicts between us, will induce them to remain
so. You are, perhaps, aware that the French had built many forts
at the most commanding spots in the interior and on the lakes, all
of which, when they gave up the country, were garrisoned by our
troops, to keep the Indians under control.

" All these forts are isolated, and communication between them is
rare. It was in 1763 that Pontiac first showed his hostility against
us, and his deterniiT»ation, if possible, to drive us from the lakes.
He was as cunning as he was brave ; and, as an Indian, showed more

TUB

T'.KRH la CANADA.

ateau.i irare
heir dih-nera,
)ec. After a
11 arrived at
ir reception,
he maize or
ery coiufort-
i to coutiiiu»
at buys had
> to the com-
ai ed that he
iig anecdotes

being again

on f CSS that I

that Poiitiac

my infonna-

e province T'

le, to satisfy

ence, as my

at the time

16 history of

Lake tribes

tribes, but

ruled at the

'rench. At

sovereignty

^t appeared

ion with all

ing but the

very name.

heir fear of

u to remain

many forts

e lakes, all

Qed by our

ien them is

ity against

the lakes.

owed more

•i

^onoralship than might bo tApected -that is, according to their
dv.stcm of war, which is always ba.sod upon stratagem. His plan of
o{)eration was to surprise .til uur foils at tiie b.iiiie time, if he possibly
could; and so excellent were \m arrangements, that it was only
fifteen days after the plan was first laid that he succeeded in gain-
ing posscHsion of all but three ; that is, he sur[)ri8ed ten out of
thirteen forts. Of course, the attacks were made by other chiefs,
under his directions, as Pontiac could not be at all the simultaneous
aswiults."

"Did he murder the garrisons, Captain Sinclair?" said Alfred.

" The major portion of them : some were spared, and afterwards
were ransomed at high prices. I ought to have mentioned, as a
singular instance of the advance of this chief in comparison with the
other Indians, that at this time he issued bills of credit on slips of
bark, signed with his totem, the otter; and that these bills, unlike
many of more civilized society, were all taken up and paid."

" That is remarkable in a savage," observed Mrs. Campbell ; " but
how did Pontiac contrive to surprise all the forts?"

" Almost the whole of them were taken by a singular stratagem.
The Indians are very partial to, and exceedingly dexterous at, a
ganie called the 'Baggatiway' : it is played with a ball and a long-
handled sort of racket. They divide into two parties, and the object
of each party is to drive the ball to their own goal. It is something
like hurly in England or golf in Scotland. Many hundreds are
sometimes engaged on both sides ; and the Europejuis are so fond of
seeing the activity and dexterity shown by the Indians at this game,
t!)at it was very common to request them to play it, when they hap-
pened to be near the forts. Upon this, Pontiac arranged his plan,
which was that his Indians should commence the game of ball under
tlie forts, and after playing a short time, strike the ball into the
fort: of course, some of them would go in for it; and having done
this two or three times, and recommenced the play to avoid suspicion,
they were to strike it over again, and follow it up by a rush after it
through the gates : and th n, when they were all in, they would draw
tiieir concealed weapons and overpower the unsuspicious garrison."

" It was certainly a very ingenious utratagem," observed Mrs.
Campbell.

**Aud it succeeded, aa I have observed, except on three forts.
The one which Pontiac directed the attack upon himself, and which
was that which he was most anxious to obtain, was Detroit, in which,
as [ have before observed, my uncle was garrisoned ; but there ho
tailed, and by a singular circumstance."

il il

< in

It M

4t TUB 8KTTLKB8 IV CANADA.

"Pray tell uh how, Captain Sinclair," said Emma; "you don't
know how much you have iiitereated me."

" The fort of l)otroit wiui garrisoned by about three I .indred men,
when Pontine arrived there with a large force of Indians and en-
camped under the walls; but he had his warriors so mixed up with
the women and children, and brought so many articles for trade,
that no suHpicion was created. The garrison had not heard of the
capture of the other forts which had already taken place. At the
sanio time the unuRual number of the Indians was pointed out to
Major Gladwin, who commanded the fort, b»it ho had no suspicionn.
Pontiao sent word to the major that he wishcil to 'have a talk' with
him, in order to cement more fully the friendHhip between the Indians
and the English ; and to this Major Gladwin consented, appointing
the next day to receive Pontiac and his chiefs in the fort.

" Now it so happened, that Major Gladwin had employed an
Indian woman to make him a pair of moccasins out of a very curiounly
marked elk-skin. The Indian woman brought him the moccasins
with the remainder of the skin. The major was so pleased with
them that he ordered her to make him a second pair of moccasins
out of the skin, and then told her that she might keep the remainder
for herself. The woman having received the order, quitted the
major, but instead of leaving the fort, remained loitering about till
she was observed, and they inquired why she did not go. She re-
plied, that she wanted to return the rest of the skin, as he set so
great a value on it; and as this appeared strange conduct, she was
questioned, and then she said that if she took away the skin then,
she never would be able to return it.

" Major Gladwin sent for the woman, upon hearing of the expres-
sions which she had used, and it was evident that she wanted to
communicate something, but was afraid ; but on being pressed hard
and encouraged, and assured of protection, she then informed Major
Gladwin that Pontiac and his chiefs were to come into the fort to-
morrow, under the plea of holding a talk ; but that they had cut the
barrels of their rifles short, to conceal them under their blankets,
and that it was their intention, at a signal given by Pontiac, to
murder Major Gladwin and all his officers who were at the council ;
while the other warriors, who would also come into the fort with
concealed arms, under pretence of trading, would attack the garrison
outside.

"Having obtained this information, Major Gladwin did all he
could to put the fort into a state of defence, and took every neces-
sary precaution. He made known to the officers and men what the

THR SKTTLER8 IN CANADA.

intentioiiB of the Tmlians were, and inntnirted the oflRcera how to act
Hi the council, and the garrisun how to meet the pretended traders
oiitfiide.

" About ten o'clock, Pontiac and his thirty-six chiefs, with a train
of warriors, came into the fort to their pretended council, and were
received with great politeneas. Pontiac made his speech, and when
ho came forward to present the wampum belt, the receipt of which
by the Major was, as tlie Indian woman had informed them, to be
tlie Hignal for tlie chiefs and warriors to commence the assault, the
Major and his oHicers drew their swords half out of their scabbards,
and the troops, with their muskets loaded and bayonets fixed, ap-
peared outside and in the council-room, all ready to present. Pontiac,
brave sis he really was, turned pale : he perceived that he was dis-
covered, and consequently, to avoid any open detection, he finished
his speech with many professions of regard for the English. Major
Gladwin then rose to reply to him, and immediately informed him
that he was aware of his plot and Iiis murderous intentions. Pontiac
denied it; but Major Gladwin stepped to the chief, and drawing
.'isido his blanket, exposed his ritle cut short, which left Pontiac and
his chiefs with' it a word to say in reply. Major Gladwin then
desired Pontiac to quit the fort immediately, as otherwise he should
not be able to restrain the indignation of the soldiei-s, who would
immolate h'm and all his followers who were outside of the fort.
Puntiac and his chiefs did not wait for a second intimation, but made
all the haste they could to get outside of the gates."

'* Was it prudent in Major Gladwin to allow Pontiac and his chiefs
to leave, after they had come into the fort with an intent to murder
him and his men?" said Henry Campbell. "Would not the Major
have been justified in detaining them?"

*' I certainly think he would have been, and so did my uncle, but
Major Gladwin thought otherwise. He said that he had promised
safe-conduct and protection to and from the fort before he waa aware
of the conspiracy ; and, having made a promise, his honour would
not allow him to depart from it."

" At all events, the major, if he erred, erred on the right side,"
observed Alfred. " I think myself that he was too scrupulous, and
that I in his place should have detained some of them, if not Pontiac
himself, as a hostage for the good behaviour of the rest of the tribes."

"The result proved that if Major Gladwin had done so he would
have done wisely ; for the next day Pontiac, not at all disarmed by
Major Gladwin's clemency, made a most furious attack upon the fort.
Every stratagem was resorted to, but the attack failed. Pontiac

TUB SKTTLERS IN CANADA.

then iDvested it, cut off ull their supplies, aiul the garrison wnn
reduced to great distreua. But I must break off now, for hero we
are at Troia Rivieres, where we shall remain for the night."

The biteaux were now on shore, and the party landed to pass the
night at the small stockaded village of Troia Bivi^res.

V *•

CHAPTER VIII.

Captain Sinclair having stated that they would have a longer
journey on the following day, and that it would be advisable to start
as soon as possible, they rose at daylight, and in half an hour had
breakfasted and were again in the boats. Soon after they had
pushed into the stream and hoisted the sails, for the wind was fair,
Mr. Campbell inquired how far they had to go on that day.

"About fifty miles if we possibly can," replied Captain Sinclair.
" We Lave made seventy-two miles in the first two days; but from
here to Moi.treal it is about ninety, and we are anxious to get the
best part rver to-day, so that we may land on a cleared spot which
we know of, and that I feel quite sure in; for, I regret to say, you
must trust to your tents and your own bedding for this night, as
there is no habitation large enough to receive us on the river's side
anywhere near where we wish to arrive."

"Never mind. Captain Sinclair, we shall sleep very well, I dare
Bay," replied Mns. Campbell; *'' but where do all the rest of the party
sleep? — there is only one tent."

" Oh, never mind the rest of the party ! we are used to it, and
your gentlemen won't mind it; some will sleep in the bateaux^ some
at the fire, some will watch and not sleep at all."

After some further conversation Mary Percival observed to Cap-
tain Sinclair: "You had not, I believe. Captain Sinclair, quite
finished your account of Pontiac where you left off yesterday, at the
time when he was blockading the Fort of Detroit. Will you oblige
ua by stating what afterwards took place?"

" With great pleasure. Miss Percival. There was great difiiculty
in relieving the fort, as all communication had been cut off; at last
the Governor sent his aide-de-camp. Captain Dalyell, who contrived
to throw himself into the fort with about two hundred and fifty
men. He shortly afterwards sallied out to attack the intrenchments
of the Indians, but Pontiac having received intelligence of his inten-
tion, laid an ambuscade for him, beat back the troojts with great

THE BKTTLERS IN CANADA.

loss, and poor Dalyell fell iu the combat, that took place near a bridge
which still goes by the name of Bloody Bridge. Poutiac cut off the
head of Captain Dalyell and set it upon a post."

"So much for Major Gladwin » extreme sense of honour," ex-
claimed Alfred. " Had he detained Pontiac as a prisoner, nothing of
this would have happened."

"I agree with you, Mr. Alfred," replied Captain Sincluir, "it was
letting loose a wolf; but Major Gladwin thought he was doing what
was right, and therefore cannot be well blamed. After this defeat
the investment was more strict than ever, and the garrison suffered
dreadfully. Several vessels which were sent out to supply the gar-
rison fell into the hands of Pontiac, who treated the men very
cruelly. What with the loss of men and constant watching, as well
as the want of provisions, the garrison was reduced to the greatest
privations. At last a schooner came off with supplies, which Pon-
tiac, as usual, attacked with his warriors in their canoes. The
schooner was obliged to stand out again, but the Indians followed,
and by their incessant fire killed or wounded almost every man on
board of her, and at length boarded and took possession. As they
were climbing up the shrouds and over the gunnel of the vessel, the
captain of the vessel, who was a most determined man, and resolved
not to fall into the hands of the Indians, called out to the gunner to
set fire to the magazine and blow them all up together. This order
was heard by one of Pontiac's chiefs acquainted with English; he
cried out to the other Indians, and sprang away from the vessel; the
other Indians followed him, and hurried away in their canoes, or by
swimming as fast as they could from the vessel. The captain took
advantage of the wind and arrived safe at the fort ; and thus was
the garrison relieved, and those in the fort saved from destruction
by the courage of this one man."

" Pontiac is now dead, at least Martin Super told us so. How did
he <lie. Captain Sinclair]" inquired Mrs. Campbell.

" He was killed by an Indian, but it is diflBcult to say why. For
many years he had made friends with us and had received a liberal
l)eusion from the Government; but it a])pears that his hatred against
the English had again broken out, and in a council held by the
Indians he proposed assailing us anew. After he had spoken, an
Indian buried his knife in his heart, but whether to gratify a private
animosity or to avoid a further warfare with those who had always
thinned their tribes, it is difficult tu ascertain. One thing is certain,
that most of the Indian animosity against the English is buried
with him.

( M 53 ) B

f»

! 1

; i]

THI SBTTLBRf IN CANADA.

il I

if:
fi

'*'♦

1,4 1

"Ther* waa much to admire and much to deplore in his character,
and we muat noi. judge the Indian too harshly. He was formed for
command, and possessed great courage and skill in all his arrange-
ments, independent of his having the tact to keep all the Lake tribes
of Indians combined — no very easy task. That he should have
endeavoured to drive us away from those lands of which he con-
sidered himself (and very correctly, too) as the sovereign is not to be
wondered at, especially a« our encroachments daily increased. The
great fault of his character, in our eyes, was his treachery; but we
must remember that the whole art of Indian warfare is based upon
stratagem."

" But his attacking the fort after he had been so generously dis-
missed when his inteiitions were knowu, was surely very base,"
remarked Mrs. Campbell

" What we consider a generous dismissal he probably mistook for
folly and weakness. The ludians have no idea of generosity in
warfare. Had Fontiac been shot, he would have died bravely, and
he had no idea that, b'^icause Major Gladwin did not tliink proper to
take his life, he was therefore bound to let us remain in possession
of his lands. But whatever treachery the Indians consider allowable
and proper in warfare, it is not a portion of the Indian's character;
for at any other time bis hospitality and good faith are not to be
doubted if he pledges himself for yoi;r safety. It is a pity that they
are not Christians. Surely it would make a great improvement in a
character which, even in its unenlightened state, has in it much to
be admired.

" When the form of worship and creed is simple, it is difficult to
make converts, and the Indian is a clear reasouer. I ODce had a
conversation with one of the chiefs on the subject. After we had
conversed some time, he said, * You believe in one God — so do we;
you call him one name — we call him another ; we don't speak the
same language, that is the reason. You say, suppose you do good,
you go to land of Good Spirits — we say so too. Then Indians and
Yangees (that is, English) both try to gain same object, only try in
not the same way. Now, I think that it mr.ch better that, as we all
go along together, that every man paddle his own canoe. That my
thought.'"

" It is, aa you say. Captain Sinclair, difficult to argue with men
who look so etraightforward and are so practical in their ideas.
Nevertheless," said Mrs. Campbell, " a false creed must often lead
to falsa conduct ; and whatever is estimable in the Indian character
would be strengthened and improved by the infusion of Christian

TBS SETTLSRS IN CANADA.

principles and Christian hopes— so that I must still consider it very
desirable that the Indiana should become Christians, — and I trust
that by judicious and discreet measures such a result maj gradually
be brought about."

It was two hours before sunset when they arrived at the spot at
which they intended to pass the night; they landed, and some of the
soldiers were employed in setting up the tent on a dry hillock, while
others collected legs of wood for the fire. Martin Super brought on
shore the bedding, and, assisted by Alfred and Henry, placed it in
the tent. Captain Sinclair's canteen provided sufficient articles to
enable them to make tea, and in less than half an hour the kettle was
ou the fire. As soon as they had partaken of these refreshments and
the contents of a basket of provisions procured at Trois Kivibies, the
ladies retired for the night. Captain Sinclair stationed sentinels at
different posts as a security from any intruders, and then the re-
mainder of the troops with the other males of the party lay down
with their feet towards a large fire, composed of two or three trunks
of trees, which blazed for many yards in height. lu a short time ail
was quiet, and all were in repose except the sentinels, the sergeant
and corporal, and Captain Sinclair, who relieved each other.

The night passed without any disturbance, and the next morning
they re-embarked and pursued their course. Before sunset thby
arrived at the town of Montreal, where it had been arranged that
they should wait a day. Mr. Campbell had a few purchases to make
here, which he completed. Having a letter of introduction to the
Governor, they received every attention. The society was almost
wholly French ; and many of the inhabitants called out of politeness,
or to satisfy their curioiiity. The French ladies shrugged up their
shoulders, and exclaimed, "Est-il possible?" when they heard that
the Campbells were about to proceed to such a distant spot and
settle upon 't. The French gentlemen told the Miss Campbells that
V was a great sacrifice to bury so much beauty in the wilderness ;
but what they said had little effect upon any of the party. Captain
Sinclair offered to remain another day if Mr. Campbell wished it ;
but, on the contrary, he was anxious to arrive as soon as postible at
his destination; and the following morning they again embarked,
having now about threo hundred ana sixty miles to ascend against
the current and the occasional rapids.

It would take too much space if I were to narrate all that took
place during their difficult ascent ; how they were sometimes obliged
to land and carry the cargoes of the boats ; how one or two bateaux
were upset and some of their stores lost ; and how their privations

; ; '''

:^-\i

!Si

h'4

^' n

ylj'

TUB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

increased on each following day of the journey. I have too much
to relate to enter into this portion of the narrative, although thero
might be much interest in the detail. It will be sufBicient to say
that, after sixteen days of some peril and much fatigue, and of con-
siderable suffering, from the clouds of mosquitoes which assailed
them during the night, they were landed safely at Fort Frontignac,
and treated with every attention by the commandant, who had
received letters from the Governor of Quebec, desiring him to do all
that he possibly could to serve them. The commandant, Colonel
Forster, had shown Mr. Campbell and his party the rooms which had
been provided for them, and now, for the first time after many days,
they found themselves all together and alone.

After a short conversation, in which they canvassed and com-
mented upon the kindness which they had received, and the diffi-
culties which they had, in consequence, surmounted during their
long and tedious journey from Quebec, Mr. Campbell observed: " My
dear wife and children, we have thus far proceeded without serious
casualty : it has pleased the Almighty to conduct us safely over a
boisterous sea, to keep our spirits up by providing us with unex-
pected friends and support, and we have now arrived within a
few miles of our destination. But let us not suppose that our perils
and difficulties are terminated ; on the contrary, without wishing to
dishearten you, I feel that they are about to commence. We have
much privation, much fatigue, and perhaps much danger to
encounter before we can expect to be in comfort or in security ; but
we must put our trust in that gracious Providence which has hither-
to so mercifully preserved us, and at the same time not relax in our
own energy and industry, which must ever accompany our faith in
the Divine aid. It is long since we have had an opportunity of
being gathered together and alone. Let us seize this opportunity of
pouring out our thanks to God for his mercies already vouchsafed,
and praying for a continuance of his protection. Even in the
wilderness, let us walk with him, trust in him, and ever keep him
in our thoughts. We must bear in mind that this entire life is but
a pilgrimage ; th.it if, during its course, we should meet with afflic-
tion or distress, it is his appointment, and designed undoubtedly for
our good. It is our wisdom, as well as duty, to submit patiently to
whatever may befal us, never losing our courage or becoming dis-
heartened by sutFering, but trusting to the mercy and power of Him
who can and will, at hia own good time, deliver us from evil."

Mr. Campbell knelt down, surrounded by his family, and in a
fervent address poured forlli his tliankfgiving for past mercies and

too much
[igh thero
mt to Bay
»J of con-
li assailed
rontignac,
who had
1 to do all
t, Colonel
vhich had
lany days,

and coni-
the diffi-
ring their
ved: "My
»ut serious
ely over a
dth uuex-
within a
our perils
eishing to
We have
langer to
irity; but
as hither-
lax in our
ir faith in
•tunity of
rtunity of
)uch8afed,
n in the
keep him
life is but
ith afflic-
3tedly for
tiently to
ning dis-
r of Him
il."

and in a
rcies and

TUE SBTTLERS IN CANADA.

humble solicilation for further assistance. So powerful and so elo-
quent were his words, that the tears coursed down the cheeks of his
wife and nieces; and when he had finished, all their hearts were
so full that they retired to their beds without further exchange of
words than receiving his blessing, and wishing each other good
night.

CHAPTER IX.

The party were so refreshed by once more sleeping upon good
beds, that they were up and dressed very early, and shortly after
seven o'clock were all collected upon the rampart of the fort, survey-
ing the landscape, which was indeed very picturesque and beautif .1.
Before them, to their left, the lake was spread, an inland sea, lost
in the horizon, now quite calm, and near to the shores studded with
small islands covered with verdant foliage, and appearing as if they
floated upon the transparent water. To the westward, and in front
of them, were the clearings belonging to the fort, backed with the
distant woods: a herd of cattle were grazing on a portion of the
cleared land; the other was divided off by a snake-fence, as it is
termed, and was under cultivation. Here and there a log-building
was raised as a shelter for the animals during the winter, and at half
a mile's distance was a small fort, surrounded with high palisades,
intended as a place of retreat and security for those who might be in
charge of the cattle, in case of danger or surprise. Close to the fort,
a rapid stream, now from the freshets overflowing its banks, poured
down its waters into the lake, running its course through a variety
of shrubs and larches and occasional elms which lined its banks.
The sun shone bright — the woodpeckers flew from tree to tree, or
clung to the rails of the fences — the belted kingfisher darted up and
down over the running stream — and the chirping and wild notes of
various birds were heard on every side of them.

"This is very beautiful, is it not?" said Mrs. Campbell; "surely
it cannot be so great a hardship to live in a spot like this?"

" Not if it were always so, perhaps. Madam," said Colonel Forster,
who had joined the party as Mrs. Campbell made the observation.
" But Canada in the month of June is very different from Canada in
January. I have been talking, Mr. Campbell, with Captain Sinclair,
and find you have much to do before the short summer is over, to be
ready to meet the coming winter; more than you can well do with

If!

i I

! H

'i u

?. Mi

5 '1

,1 ■ [«i <.i\

\««7

* !

THE 8BTTLBR8 IN CANADA.

jour limited means. I am happy that my instructions from th«
Governor will permit me to be of service to you. I propose that the
ladies shall remain here, while you, with such assistance as I can
give, proceed to your allotment and prepare for their reception.''

" A thousand thanks for your kind offer, Colonel — but we will all
gc together," interrupted Mrs. Campbell ; " we can be useful, and we
will lemain in the tents till the house is built. Do not say a word
more, CoIol el Forster, that is decided ; although I again return you
many thanks for your kind offer."

"If such m the case, I have only to observe that I shall send a
fatigue party of twelve men, which I can well spare for a few weeks,
to assist you in your labours," replied Colonel Forster. "Their
remuneration will not put you to a very great expense. Captain
Sinclair has volunteered to take charge of it."

" Many thanks, sir," replied Mr. Campbell ; " and as you observe
that we have no time to lose, with your permission we will start to-
morrow morning."

"I certainly shall not dissuade you," replied the commandant
"although I did hope that I should have had the pleasure of your
company for a little longer. You are aware that I have the Gover-
nor's directions to supply you with cattle from our own stock, at a
fair price. I hardly need say that you may select as you please."

"And T," said Captain Sinclair, who had been in conversation
with Mary Percival, and who now addressed Mr. Campbell, " have
been making another collection for you from my brother ofiicers,
which you were not provided with, and will find very useful, I may
say absolutely necessary."

" What may that be. Captain Sinclair?" siiid Mr. Campbell.

" A variety of dogs of every description. I have a pack of five ;
and, although not quite so handsome as your pet dogs in England,
you will find them well acquainted with the country, and do their
duty welL I have a pointer, a bull-dog, two terriers, and a fox-
hound — all of them of good courage, and ready to attack catamount,
wolf, lynx, or even a bear, if required."

"It is, indeed, a very valuable present," replied Mr. Campbell,
" and you have our sincere thanks."

" The cows you had better select before you go, unless you prefer
that I should do it for you," observed Colonel Forster. " They ehall
be driven over in a day or two, as I presume the ladies will wish to
have milk."

A summons to breakfast broke up the conversation. During the
day Henry and Alfred, assisted by Captain Sinclair and Martin

THE (ISTTLSRli IV OAKADA,

from th«
i that the
OM I can
;ion/'
e will all
1, and we
y a word
turn you

11 send a

w weeks,

"Their

Captain

I observe
start to-

aandant
of your
B Gover-
>ck, at a
:ase."
ersation
, "have
officers,
, I may

of five;
ngland,
o their
a fox-
mount,

tnpbell,

prefer
y ehall
vish to

ng the
^iartin

Super, were very busy in loading the two hcUeaux with the etores,
tents, and various trunks of linen and other necessari€.« which they
had brought with them. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, with the girls,
were equally busy in selecting a'^d putting on one side articles for
immediate use on their arrival at the allotment. As they were very
tired, they weat to bed early, that they might be ready for the next
day's re-embarkation; and after breakfast, having taken leave of the
kind commandant and the other officers, they went down to the shore
of the lake, and embarked with Captain Sinclair in the command-
ant's boat, which had been prepared for them. IViartin Super,
Alfred, and Henry, with the five dogs, went on board of the two
bateaux, which were manned by the corporal and twelve soldiers,
lent by the commandant to Mr. Campbell. The weather was beauti-
fully fine, and they set oflf in high spirits. The distance by water
was not more than three miles, although by land it was nearly five,
and in half an hour they entered the cove adjoining to which the
allotment lay.

"There is the spot, Mrs. Campbell, which is to be your future
residence," said Captain Sinclair, pointing with his hand. " You ob-
serve where that brook runs down into the lake : that is your eastern
boundary; the land on the other side is the property of the old
hunter we have spoken of. You see his little log-hut, not much
bigger than an Indian lodge, and the patch of Indian corn now
sprung out of the ground which is inclosed by the fence. This por-
tion appears not to be of any use to him, as he has no cattle of any
kind, unless, indeed, they have gone into the bush ; but I think some
of our men said that he lived entirely by the chase, and that he has
an Indian wife."

" Well," said Emma Percival, laughing, " female society is what we
never calculated upon. What is the man's name?"

"Malady Bone," replied Captain Sinclair. "I presume you ex-
pect Mrs. Bone to cull fn'st?"

" She ought to (' j so, if she knows the usage of society," replied
Emma ; " but if she does not, I think I shall waive ceremony and
go and see her. I have great curiosity to make acquaintance with
an Indian squaw."

"You may be surprised to hear me say so, Miss Emma, but I
assure you, without having ever seen her, that you will find her pe»'-
fectly well bred. All the Indian women are — their characters are a
compound of simplicity and reserve. Keep the boat's head more to
the right, Selby, we will land close to that little knoll."

The commandant's boat had pulled much faster, and was a long

•'I
I

■ 'i

iM '■■■•J
i ■ ;:
J ■ *"■

•>i

THU SKTTLERS IM CANADA^

wny Jihead of the bateaux. In a few iiiimites afterwanU they had
all disembarked, and were stauding on the knoll, surveying their
new property. A portion of about thirty acres, running along the
flhore of the lake, was what is termed natural prairie, or meadow of
short fine grass; the land immediately behind the meadow was
covered with brushwood for about three hundred yards, and then
rose a dark and impervious front of high timber which completely
confined the lands^. :pc. The allotment belonging to the old hunter,
on the oppunite side of the brook, cont^iined about the same portion
of natural meudow, and was in other re.^pecta but a continuation of
the portion belonging to Mr. Campbell.

" Well," said Martin Super, as soon a« he had come up to the
party on the knoll, for the haceaux had now arrived, " I reckon, Mr.
Campbell, ♦.liat )ou are in luck to have this piece o^ grass. It would
have taken no few blows of the axe to have cleared such a space
out of a wood like that behind us. Why, it is as good as a fortune
to a new settler."

" I think it is, Martin," replied Mr. Campbell.

" Well, sir, now to work as soon as you jilease, for a day is a i\iiy^
and mupt not be lost. I'll go to the wood with five or six of the
men who can handle an axe, and begin to cut down, leaving you
and the captain there to decide where the iiouse is to be ; the other
soldiers 7/ill be putting up the tents all ready for to-night, for you
must not expect a house over your heads till next full moon."

In a quarter of an hour all were in motion. Henry and Alfred
took their axes, and followed Martin Super and half of the soldiei-s,
the others were busy landing the stores and pitching the tents, while
Captain Sinclair and Mr. Campbell were surveying the ground, that
they might choose a spot for tl>e erection of the house. Mrs. Camp-
bell remained sitting on the knoll, watching the debarkation of the
packages; and Percival, by her directions, brought to her those
articles which were for immediate use. Mary and Emma Percival,
accompanied by John, as they had no task allotted to them, walkeil
up by the side of the stream towar^^s the wood.

" I wiih I iiad my box," said John, who had been watching the
running water.

"Why do you want your box, John?" said Mary.

"For my h ;oka in my box," replied John.

"Why, do you see any fish in this small stream]" said Emma.

" Yes," replied John, walking on before them.

Mary and Emma followed him, no\i and then stopping to pick a
flower unknown to them. AVheu they overtook John, he wasstand-

, r^-

'. i.

ley had
ig their
ong the
fvdow of
Dw was
ad then
npletely
hunter,
portion
atioD of

» to the

:ou, Mr.

t would

a space

fortune

is a tliiy,

I of the

ing yoQ

le other

for you

Alfred
ioKliers,
[s, while
fid, that
Canip-
of the
Ir those
fercival,
I walked

Ing the

la.

pick a
I stand-

THE 8KTTLBR8 IN CANADA. iP

ing immovable, pointing to a figure on the other side of the streaiu,
as fixed and motionless as himself.

The two girls started back as they beheld a tall, gaunt man,
dressed in deer hides, who stood leaning upon a long gun with bis
eyes fixed upon t^em. Uis face was browned and weather-beaten
— indeed so dark that it was ditlicult to say if he were of the Indian
race or not.

"It must be the hunter, Emma," said Mary Fercival; "he is not
dressed like the Indians we saw at Quebec."

♦* It must be," replied Emma; " won't he speaki"

" We will wait and see," replied Mary.

They did vali, for a minute or more, but the man neither spoke
nor shifted his pusitiun.

" I will speak to him, Mary," said Emma at last. " My good man,
you are Malachi Bone, are you not?"

"That's my name," replied the hunter in a deep voice; "a.id who
on earth are you, and what are you doing here ] Is it a frolic from
the fort, or what is it, tiiat causes all this disturbance?"

" Disturbance ! — why, we don't make a great deal of noise ; no,
it's no frolic; we are come to settle here, and shall be your neigh-
bour."

"To settle here! — why, what on earth do yoa mean, young
woman? Settle here !— not you, surely !"

" Yes, indeed, we are. Don't you know Martin Super, the trapper?
He is with us, and now at work in the woods getting ready for
raising the house, as you call it. — Do you know, Mary," said Emma
in a low tone to her sister, " I'm almost afraid of that man, although
I do speak so boldly."

"Martin Super — yes, I know liim," re])lied the hunter, who with-
out any more ceremony threw his gun into the hollow of his arm,
turned round, and walked away in the direction of his own hut.

"Well, Mary," observed Emma, after a pause of a few seconds,
during which they watched the receding form of the hunter, " the
old gentleman is not over-polite. Suppose we go back and narrate
our first adventure?"

" hfi us walk up to where Alfred and Martin Super are at work,
and tell them," replied Mary.

They soon gained the spot where the men were felling the irees,
and made known to Alfred and Martin what had taken place.

"He is angered. Miss," observed Martin; "I guessed aa much.
Well, if he don't like it he must squat elsewhere."

"How do you mean — squat elsewhere?"

•ili

i' iMivi

THE SETTLSR8 III OAMACA*

** I mean, Miis, that if he don't like company so near him, he must
shift and build hia wigwam further off."

"But why should he not like company 1 J should have imagined
that it would be agreeable rather than otherwise/' replied Mary
Percival.

" You may think so, Miss ; but Malachi Bone thinks otherwise ;
and it's very natural. A man who has lived all his life in the woods,
all alone, his eye never resting, his ear ever watching ; catching at
every sound, even to the breaking of a twig or the falling of a leaf;
sleeping with his finger on his trigger and one eye half open, gets
used to no comi)any but his own, and can't abide it. I recollect the
time that I could not. Why, Miss, when a man hasn't spoken a
word perhaps for months, talking is a fatigue, and when he hasn't
heard a word spoken for months, listening is as bad. It's all custom,
Miss, and Malachi, as I guessed, don't like it, and so he's rili/ and
angered. I will go see him after the work is over."

" But he has his wife, Martin, has he not?"

" Yes ; but she's an Indian wife. Master Alfred, and Indian wives
don't speak unless they're spoken to.''

" What a recommendation 1 " said Alfred, laughing ; " I really think
I shall look after an Indian wife, Emma."

" I think you had better," replied Emma. " You'd be certain of
a quiet house — when you were out of it; and when at home, you
would have all the talk to yourself, which is just what you like.
Come, Mary, let us leave him to dream of his squaw."

The men selected by the commands nt of the fort were well used
to handle the axe; before dusk, many trees had been felled, and
were ready for sawing into lengths. The tents had all been pitched :
those for the Campbells on the knoll we have spoken of; Captain
Sinclair's and that for the soldiers about a hundred yards distant.
The fires were lighted, and as the dinner had been cold, a hot supper
was prepared by Martin and Mi-s. Campbell, assisted by the girls
and the younger boys. After supper they all retired to an early
bed; Captain Sinclair having put a man as sentry, and the dogs
having been tied at different places, that they might give the alarm
if there was any danger; which, however, was not anticipated, as
the Indians had for some time been very quiet in the neighbourhood
of Fort Frontignac.

w
fo

it'i
thj

crc

tha
me

• must

agiued
Mary

jrwise ;
woods,
ling at
a leaf;
jn, gets
ect the
loken a
9 hasn't
custom,
'ily and

u wives

ly think

J r tain of
me, you
ou like.

ell used
ed, and

itched :
Captain

distant,
supper
|he girls

in early
Ihe dogs
]e alarm

[atcd, as

)urhood

TBB SETTLBRS IM CANADA.

CHAPTER X.

The next morning when they assembled at breakfast, after Mr.
Campbell had read the prayers, Mary Percival said, " Did you hear
that strange and loud noise hist night? I was very much startled
with it ; but, aa nobody said a word, I held my tongue."

"Nobody said a word, because everybody was fast asleep, I pre-
sume," said Alfred ; " I heard nothing."

" It was like the sound of cart-wheels at a distance, with whistling
and hissing," continued Mary.

" I think I can explain it to you, as I was up during the night.
Miss Percival," said Captain Sinclair. " It is a noise you must
expect every night during the summer season ; but one to which you
will soon be accustomed."

"Why, what was it?"

"Frogs — nothing more; except, indeed, the hissing, which, I
believe, is made by the lizards. They will serenade you every night.
T only hope you will not be disturbed by anything more dangerous."

" Is it possible that such small creatures can make such a din?"

" Yes ; when thousands join in the concert ; I may say millions."

" Well, I thank you for the explanation, Captain Sinclair, as it has
been some relief to my mind."

After breakfast, Martin informed Mr. Campbell that he had seen
Malachi Bone, the hunter, who had expressed great dissatisfaction
at their arrival, and his determination to quit the place if they re-
mained.

" Surely he hardly expects us to quit the place to please him?"

* No," replied Martin ; " but if he were cankered in dispouition,
which I will say Malachi is not, he might make it very unpleasant
for you to remain, by bringing the Indians about you."

"Surely, he would not do thatT' said Mrs. Campbell.

"No, I don't think he would," replied Martin; "because, you see,
it's just as easy for him to go further otf."

"But why should we drive him away from his property any more
than we leave our own?" observed Mrs. Campbell

" He says he won't be crowded, Ma'am ; he can't bear to bs
crowded."

" Why, there's a river between us."

" So there is. Ma'am, but still that's his feeling. I said to him,
that if he would go, I dare say Mr. Campbell would buy his allot-
ment of him, and he seems quite willing to part with it"

ill

•S* ' .

I u

THK HKTTLBRS IN CANADA.

** It would be a great additiou to your property, Mr. Caupb«ll," ob-
■erved Captain Sinclair. "In the first place, you would have the whole
of the prairie and the right of the river ou both aides, apparently of
no consequence now, but as the country fills up, most valuable."

"Well," replied Mr. (Campbell, "as I presume we shall remain
here, or, at all events, those who survive me will, till the country
fills up, I shall be most happy to make any arrangement with Bone
for the purchase of his property."

" I'll have some more talk with him, sir," replied Martin.

The second day was passed as was the first, in making preparations
for erecting the house, which, now that they hud obtained such un-
expected help, was, by the advice of Captain Sinclair, considerably
enlarged beyond the size originally intended. As Mr. Campbell
paid the soldiers employed a certain sum per day for their labour,
he had less scruple in employing them lunger. Two of them were
good carpenters, and a sawpit had been dug, that they might prepare
the doors and the frames for the wiudow-soiihes which Mr. Campbell
had taken the precaution to bring with him. On the third day a
boat arrived from the fort bringing the men's rations and a present
of two fine bucks from the commandant. Captain Sinclair went in
the boat to procure some articles which he required, and returned
in the evening. The weather continued fine, and in the course of
a week a great deal of timber was cut and squared. During this
time Martin had several meetings with the old hunter, and it was
agreed that he should sell his proi)erty to Mr. Campbell. Money
he appeared to care little about — indeed it wiis useless to him ; gun-
powder, lead, flints, blankets, and tobacco were the principal
articles requested in the barter ; the amount, however, was not pre-
cisely settled. An intimacy had been struck up between the old
hunter and John, in what manner it wiis diflScult to imagine, as they
both were very sparing of their words ; but this was certain, that
John had contrived to get across the stream somehow or other, and
was now seldom at home to his meals. Martin reported that he was
in the lodge of the old hunter, and that he could come to no harm ;
so Mrs. Campbell was satisfied.

"But what does he do there, Martin?" said Mrs. Campbell, as
they were clearing the table after supper.

" Just nothing but look at the squaw, or at Malachi cleaning his
gun, or anything else he may see. He never speaks, that I know of,
and that's why he suits old Malachi."

"lie brought home a basket of trout this afternoon," observed
Mary ; "so he is not quite idle."

THE 8BTTLKIUI IN CANADA.

)«11," ob-
lie whole
reutly of
)le."

i remain

country

ith Bona

parations
8uch un-
iiderably
..'anipbell
r labour,
I em were
t prepare
i^ampbell
ird day a
a present
r went in
returned
[course of
[ring this
id it was
Money

im; gun-
jrincipal
not pre-
the old
, as they
ain, that
ther, and
at he was
10 harm ;

ipbell, as

ming his
know of,

observed

No, Miaa ; he's fishing at daylight, and giret one-half to you and
the other to old Bone, ile'll make a crack hunter one of these days,
as old Malachi says. He can draw the bead on the old man's rifle in
good style already, I can tell yon."

•'How do you mean, Martin?" said Mrs. Campbell.

" I mean that he can fire pretty true, Ma*am, although it's a heavy
gun for him to lift ; a smaller one would be bettor for him."

'•But is he not too young to be trusted with a gun, Unclel" said
Mary.

" No, Miss," interrupted Martin, "you can't be too young here;
the sooner a boy is useful the bettei ; and the boy with a gun is
almost as good as a man ; for the gun kills equally well if pointed
true. Master Percival must have his gun as soon as I am at leisure
to teach him."

" I wish you were at leisure now, Martin," cried Percival.

" You forget. Aunt, that you promised to learn to load and fire a
rifle yourself," said Mary.

" No, I do not ; and I intend to keep my word as soon as there is
tinje; but John is so very young."

" Well, Mary, I suppose we must enlist too) " said Emma.

" Yes ; we'll be the female brigade," replied Mary, laughing.

"I really quite like the idea," continued Emma; " I will put up
with no impertinence, recollect, Alfred : excite my displeasure, and
I shall take down my rifle."

"I suspect you will do more execution with your eyes. Emma,"
replied Alfred, laughing.

" Not upon a catamount, as Martin calls it. Pray, what is a cata-
mount?"

** A painter. Miss."

" Oh ! now I know ; a catamount is a painter, a painter is a leopard
or a panther. As I live. Uncle, here comes the old hunter, with
John trotting at his heels. I thought he would come at last The
visit is to me, I'm sure, for when we first met he was dumb with
astonishment."

"He well might be," observed Captain Sinclair; "he has not
often met with such objects as you and your sister in the woods."

"No," replied Emma; "an English squaw must be rather a
rarity."

As she said this, old Malachi Bone came up, and seated himself,
without speaking, placing his rifle between his knees.

" Your servant, sir," said Mr. Campbell ; " I hope you are well."

" What on earth makes you come here?" said Bone, looking round

• ( -, !•:

ii i;it

1 i

■

1 ;'|

m ''

l£^

1 V '

(HI THB SXTTLBRS IN CANADA.

him. ''You are not fit for the wilderness I Winter will arriv*
soon ; and then 70a go back, I reckon."

" No, we shall not," replied Alfre<l, " for we have nowhere to go
back to ; besides, the people are too crowded where we came from,
so we come here for more room."

"I reckon you'll crowd m«," replied the hunter, "so I'll go farther."

''Well, Malachi, the gentleman will pay you for your clearing."

"I told you so," said Martin.

"Yes, you did; but I'd rather not have seen him or his goods."

"By goods, I suppose you mean us about you?" said Emma.

^'No, girl, I didn't mean you. I meant gunpowder and the like."

"I think, Emma, you are comprehended in the last word," said
Alfred.

"That is more than you are, then, for he did not mention lead,"
retorted Emma.

"Martin Super, you know I did specify lead on the paper," said
Malachi Bone.

"You did, and you shall have it," said Mr. Campbell. " Say what
your terms are now, and I will close with you."

"Well, I'll leave that to Martin and you, stranger. I clear out to-
morrow.'*

"To-morrow I and where do you go tol"

Malachi Bone pointed to the westward.

"You'll not hear my rifle," ssid the old hunter, after a pause;
"but I'm thinking you'll never stay here. You don't know what
an Injen's life is ; it a'n't fit for the like of you. No, there's not one of
you, 'cept this boy," continued Malachi, putting his hand to John's
head, "that's fit for the woods. Let him come to me. I'll make a
hunter of him; won't I, Martin?"

"That you will, if they'll spare him to you."

"We cannot spare him altogether," replied Mr. Campbell, "but
he shall viait you if you wish it."

"Well, that's a promise; and I won't go so far as I thought I
would. He has a good eye ; I'll come for him."

The old man then rose up and walked away, John following him,
without exchanging a word with any of the party.

"My dear Campbell," said his wife, "what do you intend to do
about John? You do not intend that the hunter should take him
with him."

"No, certainly not," replied Mr. Campbell; "but I see no reason
why he should not be with him occasionally."

" It will be a very good thing for him to be so," said Martin. "If

THK 8BTTLB1UI IN CA3SADA,

I may adriM, let the boj come and go. The old man hai taken a
fancj to him, and will teach him hia woodcraft It's aa well to
make a friend of Malachi Bone."

"Why, what good can be do ui}'' inquired Henry.

"A friend in need is a friend indeed, sir; and a friend in the
wilderness is not to be thrown away. Old Malachi is going further
out, and if danger occurs we shall know it from him, for the sake of
the boy, and have his help too if we need it."

"There is much good sense in Martin Super's remarks, Mr.
Campbell," observed Captain Sinclair. "You will then have
Malachi Bone as an advance guard, and the fort to fall back upon, if
necessary to retreat."

" And perhaps the most useful education which he can receive to
prepare him for his future life will be from the old hunter."

"The only one which he will take to kindly, at all events/' ob-
served Henry.

" Let him go, sir ; let him go," said Martin.

" I will give no positive answer, Martin," replied Mr. Campbell.
'' At all events, I will permit him to visit the old man ; there can be
no objection to that. But it is bed-time."

111

■I \

'■tiJl

iil

CHAPTER XL

We must pass over six weeks, during which the labour was con-
tinued without interraissiou, and the house was raised, of logs,
squared and well fitted ; the windows and doors were also put in,
and the roof well covered in with large squares of birch bark, firmly
fixed on the rafters. The house consisted of one large room aa a
dining-room, and the kitchen, with a floor of well-beaten clay, a
smaller room as a sitting-room, and three bedrooms, all of which
were floored ; one of the largest of them fitted all round with bed-
places against the walls, in the same way as on board of packets ;
this room was for the four boys, and had two spare bed-places in it.
The others, which were for the two girls and Mr. and Mrs. Campbell,
were much smaller. But before the house was half built, a large
outhouse adjoining to it had been raised, to hold the stores which
Mr. Campbell had brought with him, with a rough granary marie
above the store-room. The interior of the house was not yet fitted
up, although the furniture had been put in, and the family slept
in it, rough as it was, in preference to the tents, aa they were very

€4

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

much annoyed with mosquitoes. The stores were now safe from the
weather, and they had a roof over their heads, which was the grand
object that was to be obtained. The carpenters were still very busy
fitting up the interior of the house, and the other men were splitting
rails for a snake-fence, and also selecting small timbi'r for raising a
high palisade round the premises.

Martin had not been idle. The site of the house was just where
the brushwood joined to the prairie, and Martin had been clearing it
away and stacking it, and also collecting wood for winter fuel. It
had been decided that the four cows, which had been driven round
from the fort, should be housed during the winter in the small
building on the other side of the stream, which had belonged to
Malachi Bone, as it was surrounded with a high snake-fence, and
sufficiently large to hold them and even more. The commandant
had very kindly selected the most quiet cows to milk, and Mary and
Emma Percival had already entered upon their duties : the milk
had been put into the storehouse until a dairy could be built up. A
very neat bridge had been thrown across the stream, and every
morning the two girls, generally attended by Henry, Alfred, or
Captain Sinclair, creased over, and soon became expert in their new
vocation as dairy-maida. Altogether things began to wear a pro-
mising appearance. Henry i\nd Mr. ^lampbell had dug up as fast as
Martin and Alfred cleared aw,\y the brushwood, and the garden had
already been cropped vith such few articles as could be put in at the
reason. The commaud.int had some pigs ready for the settlers as
soon as they were ready to receive them, and had more than once
come up in the boats to ascertain their progress and to offer any
advice that he might consider useful.

We must not, however, forget Malachi Bone. The day after Bone
had come to Mr. Campbell, Enmia perceived him going away into
the woods, with his rifle, followed by her cousin John; and being
very curious to see his Indian wife, she persuaded Alfred and Captain
Sinclair to accompany her and Mary to the other side of the stream.
The great point was to know where to cross it, but as John had
found out the means of so doing, it was to be presumed that there
was a passage, and they set oflF to look for it. They found that,
about half a miie up the stream, which there ran through the wood,
a large tree had been blown down and laid across it, and with the
assistance of the young men, Mary and Emma passed it without
much difficulty ; they then turned back by the side of the stream
until they approached the lodge of old Malachi. As they walked
towards it, they could not perceive anyone stirring; but at last a

THE SETTLERS IM CANADA.

tin the
grand
ybusy
•litting
ising a

where
iring it
lel. It
I round
3 small
iged to
ice, and
landant
;ary and
lie milk
, up. A
d every
ifred, or
leir new
r a pro-
ts fast as
rden had
in at the
ttlers as
lan once
•ffer any

Iter Bone
ray into
|id being
Captain
stream.
|ohn had
lat there
|ud that,
he wood,
Iwith the
without
stream
walked
it last a

uog of the Indian breed began to bark ; still nobody came out, and
they arrived at the door of the lod;5e where the dog stood ; when,
sitting on the floor, they perceived the Indian girl whom they were
in search of. She was very busy sewing a pair of moccasins out of
doer leather. She appeared startled when slie first saw Alfred ; but
when she perceived that the young ladies were with him, her confi-
dence returned. She slightly bowed her head and continued her work.

"How very young she is!" said Emma; "why, she cannot be more
than eighteen years old."

" I doubt if she is so much," replied Captain Sinclair.

"She has a very modest, unaffected look, has she not, Alfred?"
said Mary.

" Yes ; I think there is something very prepossessing in her coun-
tenance."

" She is too young a wife for the old hunter, at all events," observed
Alfred.

" That is not unusual among the Indians," Siiid Captain Sinclair ;
" a very old chief will often have three or four young wives ; they
are to be considered more in the light of his servants than anything
else."

"But she must think us very rude to talk and stare at her in this
manner; I suppose she cannot speak English."

" I will speak to her in her own language, if she is a Chippeway or
of any of the tribes about here, for they all have the same dialect,"
said Captain Sinclair.

Captain Sinclair addressed her in the Indian language, and the
Indian girl replied in a very soft voice.

" She says her husband is gone to bring home venison."

"Tell her we are coming to live here, and will give her anything
she wants."

Captain Sinclair again addressed her, and received her answer.

"She says that you are beautiful flowers, but not the wild flowers
of the country, and that the cold winter will kill you."

"Te'l her she will find us alive next summer," said Emma; "and,
Ca[)tain Sinclair, give her this brooch of mine, and tell her to wear it
for my sake."

Captain Sinclair gave the message and the ornament to the Indian
girl, who replied, as she looked up and smiled at Emma:

" That she would never forget the beautiful lily who was so kind
to the little strawberry- plant."

" Really her language is poetical and beautiful," observed Mary ;

" I have nothing to give her — Oh I yes, I have ; here ia my ivory
(1163) H

ir-.

> Ml

ill

i If

THE SKTTLEKS IN CANADA.

needle-case, with some needlea in it. Tell her it will be of use to her
when she sews her moccaHius. Open it and show her what is inside."

*•' 8he says that she will be able to work fjister and better, and wishes
to look at your foot, that she may be grateful ; so put your foot out,
Miss Percival."

Mary did so; the Indian girl examined it, and smiled and nodded
her head.

" Oh, Captain Sinclair, tell her that the little boy who is gone witii
her husband is our cousin."

Captain Sinclair reported her answer, which was, " He will be a
great hunter and bring home plenty of game by and by."

" Well, now tell her that we shall always be happy to see her, and
that we are going home again ; and ask her name, and tell her our

own.

As Captain Sinclair interpreted, the Indian girl pronounced after
him the names of Mary and Emma very distinctly. " She has your
name«, you perceive ; her own, translated into English, ia the Straw-
berry-plant."

They then nodded farewell to the young Indian, and returned
home. On the second evening after their visit, as they were at
tHupper, the conversation turned upon the hunter and his young
Indian wife, when John, who had, as usual, been silent, suddenly
broke out with " Goes away to-morrow !"

" They go away to-morrow, John; where do they go to?" said Mr.
Campbell.

" Woods," replied John.

John was correct in his statement. Early the next morning.
Malachi Bone, with his rifle on his shoulder and an axe in his hand,
was seen crossing the prairie belonging to Mr. Campbell, followed
by his wife, who was bent double under her burden, which was com-
posed of all the property which the old hunter possessed, tied up in
blankets. He had left word the night before with Martin that he
would come back in a few days, as soon as he had squatted, to settle
the bargain for his allotment of laud made over to Mr. Campbell.
This was just before they had sat down to breakfast, and then they
observed that John was missing.

" He was here just before prayers," said Mrs. Campbell. " He
must have slipped away after the ohl hunter."

" No doubt of that, Ma'am," said Martin. " Ho will go with him
and find out where he puts up his wigwam, and after that he will
come back to you ; so there is no use sending after him ; indeed, we
don't know which way to send."

THE 8ETTLKRS IN CANADA.

) to her
nsitle."
wishes
>ot out,

Dodded

lie witii

ill be a

ler, and
her our

;d after
laa your
! Straw-

eturued
were at
3 young
uddenly

aid Mr.

lonimgt

is hand,
ollovved
as com-
d up in
that he
o settle
mpbell.
en they

"He

ith him

twill

jed, we

Martin was right. Two days afterwards, John made his appear-
ance again, and remained very quietly at home during tho whole
week, catching fish in the stream or practising with a bow and some
arrows, which he had obtained from Malachi Bone; but the boy
appeared to be more taciturn and more fond of being alone than
ever he was before; still he was obedient and kind towards his
mother and cousins, and was fond of Percival's company when he
went to take trout from the stream.

It was, of course, after the departure of the old hunter that his log-
hut was taken possession of and the cows put into the meadow in
front of it.

As the work became more advanced, Martin wens cut every day,
accompanied either b ■ ^.ifred or Henry, in pursuit of game. Mr.
Campbell had procured an ample supply of ammunition, as well aa
the rifles, at Quebec. These had been unpacked, and the young men
were becoming daily morn expert. Up to the present the supply of
game from the fort, and occasional fresh beef, had not rendered it
necessary for Mr. Campbell to have much recourse to his barrels of
salt-pork, but still it was necessary that a supply should be procured
as often as possible, that they might husband their stores. Martin
was a certain shot if within distance, and they seldom returned
without a deer slung between them. The garden had been cleared
away and the pig-sties were finished, but there was still the most
arduous portion of the work to commence, which was the felling of
the trees to clear the land for the growing of corn. In this they
could expect no assistance from the garrison ; indeed, from the in-
dulgence of the commandant, they had already obtained more than
they could have expected. It was in the last days of August, and
the men lent from the garrison were about to be recalled ; the houses
were completed, the palisade had been raised round the house and
storehouse, and the men were now required at the fort. Captain
Sinclair received several hints from the commandant that he must
use all convenient despatch, and limit his absence to a few days
more, which he trusted would be sufficient.

Captain Sinclair, who would willingly have remained in society
whi^h he so much valued, and who had now become almost one of
the family, found that he could make no more excuses. He reported
that he would be ready to return on the 1st of September, and on
the morning of that day the bateaux arrived to take back the
soldiers, and bring the pigs and fowls which had been promised.
Mr. Campbell settled his account with Captain Sinclair by a draft
upon his banker at Quebec, for the pay of the soldiers, the cows, and

■■'Si

^ 1

ii '^ f I

.,#

:! L

THE SKTTLERH IN CANADA.

the pigs. The Captain then took leave of hia friends with mutual
regret, and many kind adieus, and, accompanied by the whole of the
family to the beach, embarked with all his men and pulled away for
the fort.

CHAPTER XIL

The Campbells remained for some time on the shore of the lake
watching the receding bateaux until they turned round the point
and were hidden from their sight, and then they walked back to the
house. But few words were exchanged as they returned, for they
felt a sensation of loneliness from having parted with so many of
their own countrymen; not that they were, with the exception of
Captain Sinclair, companions, but that, accustomed to the sight of
the soldiers at their labour, the spot now appeared depopulated by
their departure. Martin, too, and John were both absent; the
latter had been two days away, and Martin, who had not yet found
time to ascertain where old Malachi Bone had fixed his new abode,
had gone out in search of it, and to mention to him Mr. Campbell's
wishes as to John's visits to him, which were becoming more fre-
quent aud more lengthened than Mr. Campbell wished them to be.

When they entered the house, they all sat down, and Mr. Cam])-
bell then first spoke.

" Well, my dearest wife, here we are at last, left to ourselves and
to our own resources. I am not at all doubtful of our doing well, if
we exert ourselves, as it is our duty to do. I grant that we may
have hardship to combat, difficulties to overcome, occasional disap-
pointments and losses to bear up against ; but let us recollect how
greatly we have, through Providence, been already assisted and
encouraged, how much help we have received, and how much kind-
ness W3 have experienced. Surely we ought to fee' most grateful to
Heaven for blessings already vouchsafed to us, aud ought to have a
fix ill and lively faith in Him who has hitherto so kindly watched
over us."

"I agree with you, ray dear husband," replied Mrs. Campbell;
" nay, I can say with sincerity, that I am not sorry we are now left
to our own exertions, and that we have an opportunity of proving
that we can do without the assistance of others. Up to the present,
our trial has been nothing; indeed, I can fancy to myself what our
trials are to be. Come they may, but from what quarter I cannot
form an idea ; should they come, however, I trust we shall show our

68 and
^ell, if
may
disap-
, how
I and
kind-
lul to
ave a
tched

Ipbell ;
U left
roving
resent,
lat our
innot
kw our

THE 8KTTLRR8 IN CANADA. V9

gratitude for the past bleflsings, and our fait}t derived froat past de-
liverances, by a devout subniissiou to whatever the Almighty nia^
please to try or chasten us with."

" Right, my dear," replied Mr. Campbell ; " we will hope for the
best ; we are as much under Uis protection here in the wilderness
as we were at Wextou Park; we were just as liable to all the ills
which flesh is heir to when we were living in opulence and luxury
as we are now in this log-house ; but w;< are, I thank God, not so
liable in our present position to forget Ilim who so bountifully pro-
vides for U8 and in His wisdom ordereth all our ways."

" Well," observed Emma after a pause, as if to give a more lively
turn to the conversation, " I wonder what my trials are to be !
Depend upon it, the cow will kick down the pail, or the butter won't
come ! "

" Or you'll get chapped fingers in the winter-time, and chilblains
on your feet," continued Mary.

" That will be bad ; but Captain Sinclair says that if we don't take
care we shall be frost-bitten and lost the tips of our noses."

"That would be hard upo i you, Knima, for you've none to spare,"
said Alfred.

" Well, you have, Alfred, so yours ought to go first."

"We must look after one another's noses, they say, as we cannot
teil if our own is in danger; and if we see a white spot upon another's
nose, we must take a bit of snow and rub it well; a little delicate
attention peculiar to this climate."

" 1 cannot say that I do not know what my trials are to be," said
Alfred — "that is, trials certain; nor can Henry either. When I
look at the enormous trunks of these trees, wliich we have to cut
('own with our axes, I feel positive that it will be a hard trial before
we master them. Don't you think so, Harry 1"

" I have made up my mind to have at least two new skins u])on
my hands before the winLer comes on," replied Henry; "but felling
timber was not a part of my university education."

"No," replied Alfred; "Oxford don't teach that; now, my uni-
versity education — "

"Your university education !" cried Emma.

"Yes, mine ; I have sailed all over the universe, and that I call a
univereity education ; but here come Martin and John. Why, John
has got a gun on his shoulder ! He must have taken it with him
when he last disappeared."

" I suppose that by this time he knows how to use it, Alfred,"
said Mrs. Campbell

'«!

'^ 1^.1

■4.' '

!ifl

THE SKTTLEUS 124 CANADA.

■i

"Yes, Ma'am," replied Murtin, who had entered; "he knows
well how to use and how to take care of it and take care of himself.
I let him bring it home on purpose to watch him. He haB fired and
loaded twice as we c^rae back, and has killed this wood-chuck," co?
tinued Martin, throwing the dead animal on the floor. " Old Malachi
has taught him well."

" What animal is that, Martin — is it good to eat?'' said Henry.

"Not very good, sir; it's an animal that burrows in tlie grounl,
and is vry hurt' ul 'n a garden or to the young maii.c, and we always
HliOvOt iiu-n. Ti M \ T ; meet "dth th< ai."

"It's ki I Uy -1-at its not good to eat."

"Gil! yv-t^ may ja+ it, sir; I don't say it's not fit to eat; but there
are other things m. . better."

"That's quite sullicient for me, Martin," said Emma, "I shall not
taste him ; at all events, not this time, whatever I may have to do
by and by."

" I spoke to old Bone, sir, and he says it's all right ; that he won't
keep him more than a day without first sending him to you to ask
leave."

" That's all I require, Martin."

" They have been out these two days, and had only just come home
when I arrived there. The game was still in the wood."

"I shot a deer," said John.

"You shot a deer, John!" said Alfred. "Why, what a useful
fellow you will be by and by "

" Yes, sir ; old Malachi told me that the boy had shot a deer, and
that he would bring it here to-morrow himself."

"I'm glad of that, for I wish to speak with him," said Mr. Campbell;
** but, John, how came you to take the rifle with you without leave?"

John made no answer.

" Answer me, John."

" Can't shoot without a gun," replied John.

*' No, you cannot ; but the rifle is not yours."

"Give it me, and I'll shoot everything for dinner," replied John.

" I think yoa had better do so. Father," said Henry in a low voice;
" the temptation will be too strong."

"You are right, Henry," replied Mr. Campbell, aside. "Now,
John, I will give you the rifle, if you will promise me to ask leave
when you want to go, and always come back at the time you have
promised."

" I'll always tell when I go, if Mamma will always let me go, and
I'll always come back when I promise, if — "

VBB BKTTLBR8 IM OAMADA.

home

"If wliatt"

"If I've killed," replied John.

"He mean«i, bir, that if he is on the track when his leave is \t,
that lie must f jUow it; but as soon as he has eitiier lost liis g. te
or killed it, he will then come home. That's the feeling of t. trie
hunter, sir, aii< you must not baulk if*

"Very true; well then, John, iecolleot that you promise."

" Martin," said Percival, " when are you to teach me to fire the
riflel"

"Oh, very soon, sir, now that the soldif'ra are gone; and as soon
as you can hit the mark you shall go out with Mr. Alfred or me."

"And when are we to loarn, Mary?" said Emma.

"I'll teach you, cousin;^," said Alfred, "and give a lesson to my
huaoured mother."

" Well, we'll all learn," rei.lied Mrs. ^nm] 11.

"What's to be done to-morrow, Marr.u 5" hui Alfred.

"Why, sir, there are boards enou^ i lo uake a fishing-punt, and
if you and Mr. Henry will help me, 1 th.ik ve shall have one made
in two or three days. The lake is f ' of fish, and it's a pity not to
have some while the weather is so fine."

"I've plenty of lines in the store-room," said Mr. Campbell.

" Master Percival would soon learn to fish by himself," said Martin,
"and then he'll bring as much as Master John."

"Fish !" said John with disdain.

"Yes, fish. Master John," . eplied Martin; "a good hunter is
always a good fisherman, and don't <lespi8e them, for they often give
him a meal when he would otherwise go to sleep with an empty
stomach."

" Well, I'll catch fish with pleasure," cried Percival, "only I must
sometimes go out hunting."

"Yes, my dear boy, and we must sometimes go to bed ; and I think
it is high time now, as v.e must all be up to-morrow at day-
light."

The next morning, Mary and Emma set off to milk the cows — not,
as usual, attended by some of the young men, for Henry and Alfred
were busy, and Captain Sinclair was gone. As they crossed the
bridge, Mary observed to her sister,

" No more gentlemen to attend us lady milkmaids, Emma."

" No," replied Emma ; " our avocation is losing all its charms, and
a pleasure now almost settles down to a duty."

" Alfred and Henry are with Martin about the fishing-boat," ob-
served Mary

TlIK SRTTf.RRS IN CANADA.

"Yea," replied I<2inina; "l)ut I fuiicy, Mary, you were tliinking
more of Captain Sinclair than of your cou^^Iuh."

"That i(t very true, Emma; I wjis thinking of him," replied MAry,
gravely. "You don't know how T foel hia absence."

"I can imagine it, though, my dearest Mary. Shall we soon Bee
him again?"

"I do not know; but I think not for three or four weeks, for cer-
tain. All that can be spared from the fort are gone haymaking, and
if he is one of the officers sent with the men, of course lie will be
absent, and if he is left in the fort, he will be obliged to remain
there; so there is no chance of seeing him until the haymaking is
over."

"Where is it that they go to make hay, Mary?"

"You know they have only a sufficiency of pjvstiire round the fort
for the cattle during the summer, so they go along by the borders of
the lake and islands, where they know there nre patches of clear
land, cut the grass down, make the hay, and collect it all in the
bateaux, and carry it to the fort to be stacked for the winter. This
prairie was their best help, but now they have lost it."

"But Colonel Forster has promised papa sufficient hay for the
cows for this winter; indeed, we could not have fed them unless he
had done so. Depend upon it. Captain Sinclair will bring the hay
round, and then we shall see him again, Mary ; but we must walk
after our own cows now. No one to drive them for us. If Alfred
had any manners he might have come."

"And why not Henry, Emma?" said Mary, with a smile.

"Oh! I don't know; Alfred came into my thoughts first."

"I believe that really was the case," replied Mary. "Now I'm
even with you ; so go along and milk your cows."

On their return home they found the old hunter with a fine buck
lying before him. Mr. Campbell was out with the boys and Martin,
who wished his opinion as to the size of the punt.

"How do you do, Mr. Bone?" said Mary. "Did Jolin shoot that
deer?"

"Yes; and shot it as well as an old hunter, and the ere.itur can
hardly lift the gun to his shoulder. Which of you is named Mary?"

"I am," said Mary.

"Then I've something for you," said old Malachi, pulling from out
of his vest a small parcel, wrapped up in thin bark, and handing it
to her; "it's a present from the Strawberry."

Mary opened the bark, and found inside of it a pair of moccasins^
very prettily worked in stained porcupines' quills.

THE 8KTTI.BK8 IN CANADA.

I'm

that

sins.

"Ob, how beautiful ! and how kind of her! Tell her that 1 thauk
her, and love her very much. Will you]"

"Yea; I'll tell her. Where's the boy i"

"Who, John? I think he's gone up the stream to take some trout;
he'll be back to breakfast, and that's just ready. Come, Emma, we
must go in with tlie milk."

Mr. Campbell and those who were with him soon returned.

Malachi Bone then stated that ho hud brou<^d)t the buck killed by
John ; and that, if it suited, he would carry back with him a keg of
^'iinpowder and some lead ; that he wished Mr. Campbell to calcu-
latu what he considered due to him for the property, and let him
take it out in goods, as he required them.

"Why don't you name your own price, Malachi] "said Mr. Campbell.

"How can I name a price] It was given to me and cost nothing.
I leave it all to you and Martin Super, aa I said before."

"You show great confidence in me, I must say. Well, Bone, I will
not cheat you ; but I am afraid you will be a long while before you
are paid, if you only take it out in goods from ray storehouse."

"All the better. Master; they will last till I die, and then what's
left will do for the boy here," replied the oUl hunter, putting his
hand upon John's head.

"Bone," said Mr. Campbell, "I have no objection tc *he boy going
with you occasionally; but 1 cannot permit him to be always away.
I want him to come home on the day after he has been to see you."

"Well, that's not reasonable, Master. We go out after the game;
who knows where we may find it, how long we may look for it, and
iiow far it may lead us? Must we give up the chase when close
upon it, because time's up] That'll never do. I want to make the
hoy a hunter, and he must learn to sleep out, and do everything else
as concerns a hunter to do. You must let him be with me longer,
and, if you pleaae, when he comes back keep him longer; but if you
wish him to be a man, the more he stays with me the better. He
Khali know all the Indian craft, I promise you, and the winter after
this he shall take beavers and bring you the skins."

"I think, sir," observed Martin, "it's all in reason, what the old
man says."

"And 80 do I," said Alfred ; "after all, it's only sending John to
school. Let him go, Father, and have him home for the holidays."

" I'll always come to you when I can," said John.

"I am more satisfied at John's saying that than you might i' a-
gine," said Mrs. Campbell; "John ia au honest boy, and does not
say what he does not mean.'

I Hi,

!t|!

'] i

TUK BBTTLKI10 IM OAMADA.

i 1

• III

*'Well, my dear, if you have uo objection, I'm lur* I will not
raise any more."

" I think I shall gain more by John's afTection than by compulsion,
my dear husband. He says he will always come when he can, and
I believe him ; I liave, therefore, uo objection to let him stay with
Malachi Bone, at all events for a week or so at a time."

" But his education, my dear."

"He is certain to learn nothing now that this fever for the woods,
if I may so call it, is upon hitn. He will, perhaps, be more teachable
a year or two hence. You must bo aware that wu have uo cummou
disposition to deal with in that child; and however my maternal
feelings may oj>pose my judgment, it is slill ntrong enough to make
me feel that my decision is for his benefit. We must not here put
the value upon & finished education which we uaed to do. Let us
give him every advantage which the peculiarity of his position will
allow us to do; but we are now in the woods, to a ceiUiin degree
returned to a state of nature, and the tirut and most important
knowledge is to learn to gain our livelihoods."

"Well, my dear, I think you are correct in your views on the sub.
ject, and therefore, John, you may go to school with Malachi Bone;
come to see us when you can, and I expect you to turn out the Nim-
rod of the West."

Old Malachi stared at the conclusion of this speech; Alfred
observed his 8ur|)rise, and burst into a fit of laughter. He then
said, "The English of all that is, Malachi, that my brotlier John has
my father's leave to go with you, and you're to make a man of him.''

"He who made him must make a man of him," replied Bone: "I
can only make him a good hunter, and that I will, if he and I are
spared. Now, Master, if Martin will give me the powder and lead^
I'll be off again. Is the boy to go]"

"Yea, if you desire it," replied Mrs. Campbell ; "come, John, and
wish me good-bye, and remember your proniiHe."

John bade farewell to the whole party with all due decorum, and
then trotted off after his schoolmaster.

CHAPTER XIII.

In the course of a week or two, things found their places, and the
family began to feel more comfortable ; there waa also a degree of
regularity and order established, which could not b« effected during

TBI 8RTTLRIIS IN CANADA.

the time that the HoMiera wore employed. Mra. Campbell auii
Fercival took upon them all the work itiuile aiul rouuU the house
duriug the morning; the latter attending to the pigs and fowls,
bringing water from the stream, &c. Mary and Emma milked the
cows, and then assiitted their mother during the day in washing, &c.
Mr. Campbell instructed Purcival, worked in the garden, and assisted
as much as he could, where he might be found most useful; but he
was too advanced in years to bo capable of much hard work. Alfred,
Henry, and Martin Super were employed during the whole day,
clearing the ground and felling the timber; but every other day, one
or the other went out with Martin into the woods to procure food,
bringing home with them deer, wild turkeys, or other game, which,
with an occasional piece of salt pork, and the tish caught, were sufli-
cient for the family consumption. Percivail was now permitted to
accompany the hunting-parties, and became somewhat expert with
his rifle.

Tliey rose at half-past five — were all aHsembled to prayers at half-
])ast seven, previous to going to breakfast. They dined at one, and
had a combined tea and supper at seven o'clock. At nine o'clock they
went to bed. Before two months had passed away, everything went
on like clockwork. One day pasbod away so like another that the
time flew imperceptibly, and they wondeicd that the Sundays came
round so quick. They had now time to unpack everything, and the
books which Mrs. Campbell had selected and brought with her had
been arranged on shelves in the parlour ; but they had not as yet
much time to read, and were generally too tired before the day was
over not to long for their beds. Indeed, the only interval of leisure
during the whole day was between supper and bed-time, when they
would all assemble in the kitchen and talk over the little matters
which had occurred either during the chase or at home. But they
were now in the middle of October, the winter was fast approaching,
and they looked forward to it with some degree of anxiety.

John had kept his word very sacredly. He was occasionally
absent for three or four days, but if so, he invariably came to the
hoti^e and remained a day or two at home. Alfred and Martin had
long finished the fishing-punt, and as it was light >xn(i eai^ily handled,
Henry and Percival went out in it together, and when he was at
home, John with Fercival would pull half a mile out into th*; lake,
and soon return with a supply of large fish. Mra. Campbe'. , lucre-
fore, had salted down sufficient to fill a barrel fur the wintei^ii use.

One day they were agreeably surprised by Captain Sinclair making
hia appearance. He had walked from the fort^ to commimicat* to

i; .;

;

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

juif

•'■

them that the hay had been gathered in, and would be sent round in
a day or two, and also to inform Mr. Campbell that the commandant
could spare them a young bullock, if he would wish to have it for
winter provision. This offer was gladly accepted, and, having par-
taken of their dinner, Captain Sinclair was obliged to re arn to the
fort, he being that night on duty. Previous, however, to his return,
he had some conversation with Martin Super, unobserved by the rest
of the party. Afterwards he invited Alfred to walk back to the fort
with him, and return on the following morning. Alfred agreed to
do so ; and two hours before it was dark they set off, and as soon as
they were on the opposite side of the brook they were joined by
Martin Super.

" My reasons for asking you to come back with me were twofold,"
said Captain Sinclair to Alfred. '' In the first place, I wish you to
know the road to the fort, in case it should be necessary to make any
communication during the winter; secondly, I wished to have some
conversation with you and Martin relative to information we have
received about the Indians. I can tell you privately what I was un-
willing to say before your mother and cousins, as it would put them
in a state of restlessness and anxiety, which could avail nothing and
only annoy them. The fact is, we have for some time had informa-
tion thut the Indians hav;3 held several councils. It does not appear,
however, that they have as yet decided u]X)n anything, although it is
certain that they have gathered together in large numbers not very
far from the fort. No doubt they have French emissaries inciting
them to attack us. From what we can learn, however, they have
not agreed among themselves, and, therefore, in all probability no-
thing will be attempted until next year, for the autumn is their season
for sending out their war-parties. At the same time, there is no
security, for there is a great difference between a junction of all the
tribes against us and a common Indian war-party. We nnist, there-
fore, be on the alert, for we have a treacherous foe to deal with.

"And now, for your portion of interest in this affair. If thoy
attack the fort, which they may do, notwithstanding our treaties
with them, you of course would not be safe where you are; but, un-
fortunately, you may not be safe even if we are not molested ; for
when the Indians collect (even though the main body decide upon
nothing), there are always bands of five to ten Indians, who, having
left their homes, will not return if they can help it without some
booty; these are not regular warriors, or if warriors, not much
esteemed by the tribe; in fact, they are the worst class of Indians,
who are mere robbers and banditti. You raust, therefore, be on tlio

thoy

THK SETl'LKKS IN CANADA.

look-out for the visits of these people. It in fortunate for you that
old Bone has shifted his abode so many miles to the westward, and
that you are on such good terms with him, as it is not very likely
that any party of Indians can approach you without his meeting
with them or their track during his excursions."

"That's true, Captain," observed Martin, "and I will go myself
and put hiai on his guard."

" But will they not attack him before they attack us?" said
Alfred.

" Why should they?" replied Sinclair. " He is as much an Indian
almost as they are, and is well known to most of them. Besides,
what would they gain by attacking him? These straggling parties,
which you have to fear, are in quest of booty, and will not expect to
find anything in his wigwam except a few furs. No; they will not
venture near his rifle, which they fear, when there is nothing to be
obtained by so doing. I mention this to you, Alfred, that you may
be prepared and keep a sharp look-out. It is very possible that
nothing of the kind may occur, and that the winter may pass away
without any danger, and I mention it to you and Martin, as I con-
sider that the probabilities are not sufficient to warrant your alarm-
ing the other members of the family, especially the female portion of
it How far you may consider it advisable to communicate what
has now passed to your father aid Henry, it is for you to decide.
As I said before, I do not imagine you have much to fear from a
general attack ; it is too late in the year, r.^d we know that the
councils broke up without coming to any decision. You have only
to fear the attempts of small parties of marauders, and I think you
are quite strong enough^ both in numbers and in the defences of your
habitation, to resist them 8uccesi«fully, if you are not suddenly sur-
prised. That is all that you have to fear; and now that you are
warned, half the danger is over."

" Well, Captain, I'll leave you now," said Martin, " I shall go over
to old Malachi's to-night; for it occurs to me that any attack is more
likely to be made between the fall of the leaf and the fall of the snow
than afterwards ; so the sooner I put Malachi on his guard the better.
Good evening, sir."

Captain Sinclair and Alfred continued on their way to the fort.
They had contracted a strong friendship, and were unreserved in
their communication with each other.

" You have no idea, Alfred," said Captain Sinclair, " how the pecu-
liar position of your family occupies my thoughts. It really appean
almost like madness on the part of ^our father to bring out your

'^ If

».(•;■

•il

1 '

THE SBTTLKR8 IN CANADA.

I; ' i

1 .•

P 31

mother and cousina to such a place, and expose them to such priva-
tioni and dangers. I can hardly sleep at night when I reflect upon
what might happen."

" I believe," replied Alfred, " that if my father had known exactly
what his present position would have been, he would have decided
upon not leaving England ; but you must remember that he came
out with much encouragement, and the idea that he would only have
to surmount the hardships of a settler in clearing his land. He
fancied, at least I'm sure we all did, that we should be surrounded
by other farmers, and have no particular danger to incur. When
at Quebec, he found that all the good land near to civilization was
bought up or possessed by the French Canadians; he was advised to
come further westward by those who ought to have been aware of
what he» would have to encounter by so doing, but who probably
considered that the danger we now apprehend no longer existed;
and h'^ has followed that advice, which I have no doubt was coi.
scientii naly given. I think mypelf, even now, that the advice was
good, although we are accompanied by females who have been
brought up in so different a sphere, and for whose welfare such
anxiety is shown ; for, Sinclair, suppose, without having made our
acquaintance, you had heard that some settlers, men and women,
had located themselves where we have done — should you have con-
sidered it so very lash an undertaking, presuming that they were
merely farmers and farmers' wives?"

" I certainly should have troubled myself very little about them,
and perhaps not thought upon the subject."

" But supposing that the subject had been brought up at the fort,
and you heard that the parties had a stockaded house and four or
five good rifles to depend upon, with the fort to fall back upon if
necessary 1"

" I admit that I should most probably have said that they were
in a position to protect tliemselves."

" Most assuredly, and therefore we are equally so ; your feelings
of interest in us magnify the danger, and T therefore trust that in
future you will not allow our position to interfere with your night's
rest."

" I wish I could bring myself to tliat feeling of security. If I were
only with you, to assist in protecting them, I should sleep sound
enough."

" Then you would not be of much use as a watch," replied Alfred,
laughing. " Never fear, Sinclair, we shall do well enough, and if we
require assistance, we will apply fcr you and a party of soldiers."

■ f'

I v

them,

THK SETTLERS 19 CAHADA.

" There would be much difficulty ebout that, Alfred," replied
Captain Sinclair ; " if there were lufticient danger to maka that de-
maud upon the commandant, the same danger would require that
he should not weaken his force in the fort; no, jou would have to
retreat to the fort, and leare jour farm to the mercy of the Indiaus."

" It certainly would be the wisest plan of the two," replied Alfred;
" at all erentfl, we could send the women. But the Indians have not
come yet, and we must hope that they will not."

Alfred was welcomed at the fort by Colonel Forster, with whom
he wa*i a great favourite. The Colonel could not refrain from ex-
pressing his opinion that Mr. Campbell and his family were in a
position of some danger, and lamenting that the female portion of
the family, who had been brought up with such very diflerent pro-
spects, should be so situated. He even ventured to hint that if Mrs.
Campbell and the two Misses Percival would pass the winter in
the fort, he would make arrangements to accommodate them. But
Alfred at once replied that he was convinced no inducement would
persuade his mother or cousins to leave his father ; they had shared
his prosperity, and they would cling to him in his adversity ; that
they all were aware of what they would have to risk before they
came out, and his father preferred a life of honourable independence
attended with danger, to seeking the assistance of others.

"But still I cannot perceive any reason for the ladies remaining to
encounter the danger."

" The more we are, the stronger we are to repel danger," replied
Alfred.

" But women, surely, will only be an encumbrance !"

" I think differently," replied Alfred. " Young and delicate as my
cousins are, they will not shrink any more than my mother when
their services are required. They now can all of them use a rifle, if
required, and to defend a house, a determined woman is almost aa
effective as a man. Depend upon it, if it comes to the necessity,
they will do so. You see, therefore, Colonel, that by taking away
our ladies, you will weaken our force," continued Alfred, laughing.

" Well, my dear fellow, I will press it no more. Only recollect
that I shall always be ready to send you any assistance when re-
quired."

" I have been thinking. Colonel Forster, that, as we have no horses
at present, if you have any rockets, tney might be useful in such a
case. At the distance we are from you a rocket would be seen im-
mediately if fired at night, and I promise you that it shall not be
fired without great necessity."

■I!

TUE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

11 i

" I am glad that you have mentioned it, Alfred ; yon shall have a
dozen to take with you. You go back with the boats that carry the
hay to-morrow morning, do you not? **

" Yes, I shall take that opportunity, to save wearing out my shoes,
as we have no cobbler near to us. I presume it will be the last trip
made by the boats this season?"

" Yes," replied the Colonel, " the frost will soon set in now. In
another fortnight we shall probably be visited with a heavy fall of
snow, and the ground will then be covered till the spring. But I
suppose we shall see or hear from you occasionally ? "

" Yes, as soon as I can push along in my snow-shoes, I will pay
you a visit," replied Alfred ; " but I have that art to learn yet."

The following morning the sky was clear and the day brilliant.
The sun shone upon the dark, scarlet- tinged foliage of the oaks, and
through the transparent yellow leaves of the n)a])ie. A slight frost
had appeared for two ^or three mornings about a month back, and
now they were enjoying what was termed the Indian summer, which
is a return of fair and rather warm weather for a short time previous
to the winter setting in.

The soldiers were busy carrying the hay down to the bateauv, and
before noon Alfred bade farewell to Colonel Forster and the other
officers of the fort, and, accompanied by Captain Sinclair, went down
to embark. All was ready, and Alfred stepped into the boat.

" I shall not fail to give directions to the sentries about the
rockets, Alfred," said Captain Sinclair, "and so teli your mother
and cousins ; and mind to show them how to tire them off from out
of the barrel of a musket. Good-bye ; God bless you, my dear
fellow!"

"Good-bye! ' rei)lied Alfred, as tiie boata pulled from the shore.

CHAPTER XIV.

After Alfred's return from the fort a few iays passed away
without any incident; Martin had paid a visit to Malachi Bone,
I' ho had promised that he would bc> on the look-out and would give
immediate information and assistance in case of any hostile measures
cu the part o^ the Indians. He told Mai tin, that in a few days he
'wouid discover what had taken place and wliat might be looked
forward to. I^Vhen Martin returned with this cornmunication, Alfred

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

away

I Bone,

give

sures

lys he

looked

Jfred

was satisfied, and did not acquaint anybody except his brother
Henry with the information which he had received from Captain
Sinclair.

The monotony of their life was, however, broken in upon by the
arrival of a corporal frora the fort, who was the bearer of the first
despatches which they had received since their arrival at the settle-
ment. Letters — yes, letters, not only from Quebec bdt from England,
were announced. The \i'hole house was id confusion, all crowding
round Mr. Campbell while he unsealed the large packet. First a
bundle of English newspapers from the Governor of Quebec — these
were laid aside; a letter from Mr. Campbell't agent at Quebec —
this was on business and could wait his leisure; then the letters
from England — two long, well-filled double letters from Miss Pater-
son to Mary and Emma ; another from Mr. Campbell's agent in
England; and a large one on foolscap paper with " On His Majesty's
Service ", directed to Mr. Alfred Campbell Each party seized upon
their letters, and hastened on one side with them. Mrs. Campbell,
being the only one who had no coiTespondent, anxiously watched the
countenance of Alfred, who, after a hasty glance, cried out, " I am
confirmed to my rank, my dear mother ; I am a lieutenant in His
Majesty's service — huzza! Here's a letter inclosed from Captain
Luraley ; I know his handwriting."

Alfred received the confjratulations of the whole party, hande'l
the official letter to his mother, and then commenced the perusa' of
tho one from Captain Lumley. After a shcrt silence, during which
they were all occupied with their correspondeiioe, Mr. Campbell s»id,
" I also have good news to communicate t^ yon ; Mr. H. writes to
me to say, that Mr. Douglas Campbell, o indiug the greeuh^^u^os
and hothouses so well stocked, cousidere'i lat he was bound to [)ay
for the plants; that they have been valuei .it seven hundred pour.ds,
aud that he has paid that money into u^y agent's hands. This is
extremely liberal of Mr. Douglas Campl 1, and I certainly did not
expect, as I found plants there on my ing possession, that I was
entitled to any remuneration for wha i left. However, I am too
poor to refuse his offer from any feelings of delicacy, and shall there-
fore write and thank him for his generong behaviour."

Alfred had read the letter from Captain Lumley, which made
him very thoughtful. The fact was, tl.-at his promotion and the
observations in Captain Luraley'a letter bad brought back all his
former regret at having quitted the servi -, and he was very melan-
choly in consequence ; but as his cousins read their letters alcud, he
gradually recovered his spirits.

(M&3) 9

[

] 1 i:f*

TUB SKITLARS IM CAHADA,

At last all the letters were read, and then the newspapers were
distributed. No more work was done that day, and in the evening
they all sat round the kitchen fire and talked over the intelligence
they had received until long after their usual time of retiring to bed.

" I have been thinking, my dear Emily," said Mr. Campbell the
next morning before they quitted their sleeping-room, " what a very
seasonable supply of money this will be. My funds, as you have
seen by the account of my Quebec agent, were nearly exhausted, and
we have many things yet to procure. We shall require horses next
year, and we must increase our stock in every way ; indeed, if we
could have another man or two it would be very advantageous, as
the sooner we clear the ground, the sooner we shall be independent."

" I agree with you, Campbell; besides, we shall now have Alfred's
half-pay, poor fellow, which will help us very much ; I have been
thinking more of him than anything else this night; I watched him
when he read Captain Lumley's letter, and I well understood the
CTiUse of his seriousness for some time afterwards ; I almost, feel in-
clined to let him return to his profession; it would be painful parting
with him, but the sacrifice on hia part is very great."

"Still it's hia duty," replied Mr. Campbell, "and, moreover,
absolutely necessary at present, that lie should remain with us.
When we are more settled and more independent of his assistance
we will titik over the subject."

In the meantime Mary and Emma had gone out as usual to milk
the cows. It was a beautiful clear day, but there was a bracing air
which clieered the spirits, and the sunshine was pleasantly warm in
situatioua sheltered from the winds ; one of the few fine days just
before the rushing in of winter. They had milked their cows, and
had just turned them out again, when they both sat down with their
pails before them on a log, which was in front of Malachi's l«"'ge,
now used as a cow-house.

* Do you !;now, Mary," said Emma after a pause, " I am almost
sorry that I have received a letter from Miss Paterson."

"Indeed, dear Emma!"

" Yes, indeed, it has unsettled me. I did nothing but dream all
last night. Everything was recalled to my mind — all that I most
wished to forget. I fancied myself again engaged in all the pursuits
of our much-loved home ; I was playing the harp, you were accom-
panying on the piano as usual ; we walked out in the shrubberies ;
we took an airing in the carriage ; all the servants were before me ;
we went to the village and to the almshouses ; we were in the garden
picking dahlias and roses ; I was just going up to dress for a very

were
suiDg
gence
3 bed.
11 the
L very
have
i, and
3 next
if we
)UB, as
ident."
Ifred's
B been
id him
od the
Feel in-
parting

ireover,
'ith us.
liatance

to milk
ling air
^arm in
ys just
rs, and
th their

Ifolcre,

almost

^am all

11 most

Lursuita

accora-

Iberies ;

Ire me ;

garden

a very

THE SETTLF.Rfl IN CANADA.

large dinner-party, and had rung the bell for Simpson, when I woke
up, and found myself in a log-hut, with my eyes fixed upon the
rafters and bark covering of the roof, thousands of miles from
Wexton Hall, and half an hour longer in bed than a dairy-maid
should be."

" I will confess, my dear Emma, that I passed much such a night;
old associations will rise up again when so forcibly brought to our
remembrance as they have been by Miss Paterson's letters, but 1
strove all I could to banish them from my mind, and not indulge in
useless repining."

"Repine, I do not, Mary, at leadt I hope not, but one cannot
well help regretting ; I cannot help remembering, as Macdu£f says,
that 'such things were'."

"He might well say so, Emma; for what had he lost? his wife
and all his children, ruthlessly murdered; but what have we lost in
comparison? nothing — a few luxuries. Have we not health and
spirits? Have we not our kind uncle and aunt, who have fostered
us— our cousins so attached to us? Had it not been for the kindness
of our uncle and aunt, who hav^ i i nght us up as their own children,
should we, poor orphans, have . v n been partakers of those luxuries
which you now regret? Ought we not rather to thank Heaven that
circumstances have enabled us to show some gratitude for benefits
heaped upon us? How much greater are these ju'ivations to my
uncle and aunt now that they are so much more advanced in years,
and have been so much longer accustomed to competence and ease;
and shall we repine or even regret, unless it is on their account?
Surely, my dear Emma, not on our own."

"I feel the truth of all you say, Mary," replied Emma; "nay, all
that you have now said passed in my own mind, and I have argued
to myself in almost the same words, but I fear that I am not quite
so much of a philosopher as you are; and, acknowledging that what
yota say is correct, I still have the same feeling — that is, I wish that
I Wl not received the letttT from Miss Paterson."

" In that wish there can be no harm, for it is only wishing that
you may not be tempted to repine."

" Exactly, my dear Mary; I am'a daughter of Eve," replied Emma,
laughing, and rising from her seat; " I will put away Miss Paterson's
letter, and I daresay in a day or two shall have forgotten all about
it. Dear Alfred, how glad I am that he is promoted ! I shall call
hiru Lieutenant Campbell till he is hick of it. Come, Mary, or we
sliall be keeping my uncle waiting ; come, Juno."

Emma's calling Juno to follow her, reiuiuda me that I have not

I »■

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

yet introduced the dogs to my readers, and as they will have to
play their parts in our history I may as well do so at uiice. Captain
Sinclair, it may be remembered, had procured five dogs for Mr.
Campbell from the officers of the fort — two terriers, which were
named Trim and Snob ; Trim was a small dog and kept in the house,
but Snob was a very powerful bull-terrier, and very savage; a fox-
hound bitch, the one which Emma had just called Juno; Bully, a
very fine young bull-dog, and Sancho, an old pointer. At night
these dogs were tied up : Juno in the storehouse ; Bully and Snob
at the door of the house within the palisade; Trim indoors, and old
Sancho at the lodge of Malachi Bone, where the cows were put in
at night. Mr. Campbell found it rather expensive at first feeding
these dogs, but as soon aa Martin and his companions brought home
game, there was always plenty for thom all. They were all very
sharp and high-couraged dogs, for they had beei. born in the fort,
and had been brought up to hunting every kind of game indiscrimi-
nately ; and I need hardly add that they were excellent watch-dogs,
and considered by Mr. <Jami)bell as a great protection.

For the next two days the family remained rather unsettled ;
there was so much news in the newspapers; so many recollections
brought up by their perusal; so much to talk about and discuss,
that very little work w.'us done. The weather, however, was now
becoming much colder, and for the last two days the sun had not
shone. The sky was of one uniform murky solemn gray, and every-
-ling announced that the winter was close at hand. Martin, who
hud been hunting, when he came home bid them prepare for an
immediate change in the weather, and his prediction was speedily
verified.

CHAPTER XV.

It was on the Saturday evening, when they had all assembled
round the fire, for it was more cold than it had hitherto been, that
the moaning of the wind among the trees of the forest announced a
gale of wmd from the northward.

" We shall have it soon," observed Martin ; " winter mostly comes
in with a gale."

" Yes ; and this appears as if it would be a strong gale," replied
Alfred. " Hark ! how the boughs of the trees are sawing and crack-
ing against each other."

"I reckon we may get our snow-shoes out of the storehouses.

^ibled

that

^ced a

:oraes

:rack-
)uae8,

THE 8BTTLKR8 IN CAKADA.

John," wid Martin, " and then we shall see how you can get over
the ^ound with tliem when you go out hunting. You have not
shot a mooae yet."

" Is the moose the same as the elk, Martin?" said Henry.

" I do not think it id, sir ; yet I've heard both names given to the
animal."

" Have you ever shot any?" said Mrs. Campbell.

" YeH, Ma'am ; many a one. They're queer auimals ; they don't
run like the other deer, but they trot aa fast as the others run, so it
comes to the same thing. They are very shy, and difficult to get
near, except in the heav now, and tlien their weight will not allow
them to get over it ae f le lighter deer can. Tliey Hink up to their
shoulders, and flounder about till they are overtaken. You see,
Master Percival, the mooae can't put on snow-shoes like we can, and
that gives us the advantage over the animal."

"Are they dangerous animals, Martin?" inquired Mary.

" Every large animal is more or less dangerous when it turns to
bay. Miss. A moose's horns sometimes weigh fifty pounds, and it
is a strong animal to boot ; but it can't do anything when the snow
is deep. You'll find it good eating, at all events, when we bring

one in.

" I'll bring one," said John, who was cleaning his rifle.

*' \ dare say you will as soon as you can manage your snow-shoes,"
replied Martin. "The wind is getting up higher. I guess you'll
not find your w«y back to Malachi's lodge, Master John, as you
thought to do to-morrow morning."

"It is certainly a dreadful niglit," observed Mrs. Campbell ; "and
I feel the cold very sensibly."

" Yes, Ma'am ; but as soon as the snow is down you'll be warmer."

" It is time to go to bed," observed Mr. Campbell, " so put away
your work ; and, Henry, give me down the Bible."

During that night the gale increased to almost a hurricane; the
trees of the forest clashed and crackled, groaned and sawed their long
arms against each other, creating an unusual and almost appalling
noise ; the wind howled round the palisades and fluttered the strips
of bark on the roof, and aa they all lay in bed they could not sleep
from the noise outside, and the increased feeling of cold. It was
also the first trial of this new house in severe weather, and some of
the wakeful party were anxiously watching the result Towards the
morning the storm abated, and everything was again quiet. In con-
sequence of the restless night which they had passed they were not
so early aa usual. Emma and Mary, when they came out of their

U<'1

'^rm

; t

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

room, found Mnrtiii and Alfred up and very ))UHy witliBhoveli; and,
to their astonishment, they perceived that liie snow wiw at Icruit
three feet deep on the ground, and in some places had been drifted
up higher than their heads.

" Why, Alfre<l," cried Emma, " how shall we be able to go after
the cows this morning) This is indeed winter come on with little

warnmg.

" It still snows,'* observed Mary ; " not much, indeed, but the sky
is very black."

" Yes, Miss; we shall have some more of it yet," observed Martin.
"Mr. Campbell and Mr. Henry have gone to the storehouse for
more shovels, for wo must work hard ami clear a fuotputh, and then
get the snow u|) against the palisades."

"What a sudden change 1" said Emma; "I wiah the sky would
clear, and then I should not care."

" It will to-morrow. Miss Emma, I dare say ; but the snow must
come down IBrst."

Martin and Alfied had only time to clear a path to the store-
house; Mr. Camjjbell and Henry returned with more shovels, and
AS soon as breakfast was over they commenced work. As for Mary
and Emma going to milk the cown, that was impossible. Martin
undertook tliat task until they had cleared a pathway to the hunter's
lodge, in which the animals were shut up every night.

By the advice of M.artin the snow next the palisades was piled up
against the palings like a wall, as high as they could reach or throw
it, by which means they got rid of the snow about the house, and at
the same time formed a barrier against the freezing winds which
they had to expect. All worked hard ; Pereival and John were of
great use, and even Mrs. Campbell and the girls assisted in collecting
the remainder of the snow, and clearing it olf the window-sills and
other parts. By noon the snow left olF falling, the sky cleared up,
and the sun shone bright, although it gave out but little warmth.

After dinner they renewed their labonrs, and commenced clearing
away a path to the k)dge, where the cows were locked in, and before
nightfall they had accomplished their task .'is far as the bridge over
the stream, which was about half-way. It had been a day of great
fatigue, and they were glad to retire to rest. Mrs. Cam])bell and
the girls had put an additional 8up])ly of blankets and skins upon
the beds, for the cold w;is now intense, and the thermometer stood
far below the freezing-point.

The following morning they resumed their task ; the sky was still
unclouded, and the sun shone out ckai* and bright. By dinner-time

''•<

THE 8KTTLRK: IN OANADA.

up,

jaring

jefore

over

great

ll and

upon

giood

still
-time

the path to the cow-liouse had been completed ; and the men then
employed themsulves in airryiug aa much firewood aa they could,
before it was dark, within the palisades.

" Well," observed Alfred, " now things may go on as usual within
doors; and what have we to do out, Martin]"

" You must first get on your snow-shoes, and learn to walk in
them," observed Martin; "or otherwise you'll be a prisoner as well
08 the ladies. You see, John, you're not at Malachi's lodge."

" Go to-morrow," replied John.

" No ; not to-morrow, for I must go with you," said Martin ; " I
cannot trust you for finding your way; and I cannot go to-morrow,
nor the next day either. We must kill our beef to-morrow; there's
no fear but it will keep all the winter now, and we shall save our
hay."

"My lanler is but poorly furnished," observed Mrs. Campbell.

"Never mind, Ma'am, we'll soon have something in it which will
save our beef. In another week you shall have it well stocked."

" John," said Mr. Campbell, " recollect you must not go away
without Martin."

" I won't," replied John.

All the game in the larder having been consumed, they sat down
to salt pork and some of the lish which had been cured. The latter
Wiis pronounced to be excellent.

"What is the name of this fish, Martini"

"It is called the white-fish," replied Martin, "and I have heard
gentry from the old country say that they have none better, if any
80 good."

"It is certainly most excellent," replied Mr. Campbell, "and we
will not forget to have a good provision for next winter, if it pleases
God to spare our lives."

" Where were you born, Martin 1" said Henry, as they were sitting
round the kitchen fire, as usual in the evening.

"Why, Mr. Henry, I was born at Quebec. My father was a
corporal ii\ the army under General Wolfe, and was wounded in the
great battle fought between him and the Frenchman Montcalm."

" In which both generals were killed, but the victory was to us."

"So I have heard, sir," replied Martin. "My mother was an
Englishwoman, and I was born about four years after the surrender
of Quebec. My mother died soon afterwards, but my father was
alive about five years ago, I believe. I can't exactly say, as I was
for three or four years in the employ of the Fur Company, and when
I returned I found that he was dead.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

iSkWlA 12.5

1^ I

lit

2.0

I.I

^^ 11118

11^ III 1.4

Photographic

Sdences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 872-4503

THE SSTTLERS IN CANADA.

c ■•*

■■< ■.

"And you have been a hunter all your life?"

"Not all my life, and not exactly a hunter. I call myself a
trapper, but I still um both. I first was out with the Indians when
I was about fourteen, for you see my father wanted to make me a
drummer, and I could not stand that; so I said to him, 'Father, I
won't be a drummer.' * Well,' says he, ' Martin, you must help your-
self, for all my interest lies in the army.' *So I will,' says I;
'Father, I'm off for the woods.' 'Well,' says he, 'just as you like,
Martin.' So one fine day I wished him good-bye, and did not see
him again for more than two years."

"Well, and what took place then?"

" Why, I brought home three or four packages of good skins, and
sold them well. Father was so pleased that he talked of turning
trapper himself ; but, as I told the old man, a man with a lame leg —
for he had been wounded in the leg and halted — would not make his
livelihood by hunting in the woods of Canada."

"Was your father still in the army?"

"No, Ma'am, he was not in the army; but he was employed in
the storekeeper's department ; they gave him the berth on accou7it
of his wound,"

" Well ; go on, Martin."

" I hav'n't much more to say. Ma'am. I brought home my furs,
sold them, and Father helped me to spend the money as long as he
was alive, and very welcome he was to his share. I felt rather queer
when I came back from the Fur Company and found that the old
man was dead, for I had looked forward with pleasure to the old
man's welcome, and his enjoying his frolic with me as usual.*'

" I'm afraid those frolics were not very wise, Martin."

"No, sir, they were very foolish, I believe; but I fear it will
always be the case with us trappers. We are like sailors, we do not
know what to do with money when we get it ; so we throw it away,
and tbe sooner the better, for it is our enemy while we have it. I
assure you, sir, that I used to feel quite happy when all my money
was gone, and I was setting off to the woods again. It's a hard life,
but a life that unfits you for any other ; a life which you become very
fond of. I don't mind being here with you by way of a change ;
indeed, as long as there is hunting, it is almost as good as if I were
in the woods, but else I think I shall die a trapper."

" But, Martin," said Mr. Campbell, " how much more wise it would
be to put your money by, and after a time purchase a farm and settle
down a steady man with property, perhaps married and the fathei
of a family ! "

t i;

THE SETTLERS IK CANADA.

" Perhaps it might be ; but if I do not like it so well as trapping,
I don't see why I should do so ; it would be changing my life to
please others and not myself."

" That's very true, Martin," said Alfred, laughing.

" Perhaps Martin may change his mind before he is an old man,"
replied Mrs. Campbell. "Dear me! what noise was that?" ex-
claimed Mrs. Campbell, as a melancholy howl was heard without.

" Only a rascally wolf, Ma'am," said Martin ; " we must expect the
animals to be about U8 now that the snow has fallen, and the winter
has set in."

"A wolf I are they not dangerous, Martin?" inquired Mary.

" That depends, Miss, how hungry they may be ; but they are not
very fond of attacking a human being; if we had any sheep outside,
I fancy that they would stand a bad chance."

The howl was repeated, when one or two of the dogs, which had
been admitted into the house and were stretched before the fire,
roused up and growled.

" They hear him, Ma'am, and if we were to let them out, would
soon be at him. No, no, John, sit still and put down your rifle ; we
can't aflFord to hurt wolves ; their skins won't fetch a half-dollar, and
their flesh is not fit for a dog, let alone a Christian. Let the vermin
howl till he is tired ; he'll be oflF to the woods again before daylight."

"There is certainly something very melancholy and dreadful to
me in that howl," said Emma ; " it frightens me."

"What, Emma, afraid?" said Alfred, going to her; "why, yes,
really she trembles; why, my dear Emma, do you recollect how
frightened you and Mary were at the noise of the frogs when you
first came here ? You got used to it very soon, and so you will to the
howl of a wolf."

"There is some difference, Alfred," replied Emma, shuddering as
the howl was repeated. " I don't know how it is," said she, rallying
her spirits, " but I believe it was reading Little Red Eiding Hood
when I was a child, which has given me such a horror of a wolf ; I
shall get over it very soon, I have no doubt."

" I must say that it does not create the most agreeable sensation
in ray mind," observed Mrs. Campbell; " but I was aware of what we
were to encounter when we came here, and if it is only to be annoyed
with the cry of a wild beast, we may consider that we get off very
cheaply."

"I should feel much more at ease if all the rifles were loaded,"
Laid Mary, in her usual quiet way.

" And 1 too," said Etnma.

: I

'^1

«fl

4'^

ii I : I

'I'^i

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

"Well, then, if that will at all relieve your minds, it is easily
done," said Mr. Campbell ; " let us all load our rifles, and put them
back in their rests."

** Mine's loaded," said John.

" And the rest soon shall be," said Alfred, " even the three appro-
priated for your use. Mother and Cousins. Now don't you feel some
satisfaction in knowing that you can load and fire them yourselves ?
the practice you had during the fine weather has not been thrown
away, has it, dear Emma?"

" No, it has not, and I am very glad that I did learn it ; I am a
coward iu apprehension, Alfred, but, perhaps, if I was put to the
test, I should behave better."

"That I rejilly believe," replied Alfred; "a gale of wind at sea
sounds very awful when down below jerking about in your hammock,
but when on deck you don't care a fig about it. Now the rifles are
all loaded, and we may go to bed and sleep sound." They did retire
to rest, but all parties did not sleep very sound ; the howling of one
wolf was answered by another; Emma and Mary embraced each
other, and shuddered as they heard the sounds, and it was long
before they forgot their alarm and were asleep.

If! i •

■ M

■fc t k I '

It ■ I r

CHAPTEE XVI.

The next morning was bright and clear, and when Emma and
Mary went out, attended by Alfred, to go and milk the cows, al-
though the cold was intense, everything looked so brilliant and
sparkling in the sunshine that they regained their spirits. The lake
was still unfrozen, and its waters, which were of an azure blue, con-
trasted with the whole of the country covered with snow, and the
spruce firs with their branches loaded presented an alternate layer of
pure white and of the darkest green. Birds there were none to be
seen or heard. All was quiet, so quiet that as they stepped along
the path which had been cleared away to the cow-house, they almost
startled at the sound of their own voices, which the atmosphere
rendered more peculiarly sonorous and ringing. Alfred had his rifle
on his shoulder, and walked in front of liis cousins.

" I have come to prove that all your fears are groundless, my dear
Emma, and that you need not have any alarm about a skulking,
cowardly wolf," said Alfred.

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

" Well, that may be," replied Emma, " but still we are very glad
of your company."

They arrived at the cow-hou^e without any adventure, let loose
Sancho, who had been tied up, as it was decided that the dog should
remain at home with the otheis, and proceeded to milk the cows.
Having finished that task, and supplied them with fodder, Mary
Percival observed, as they were retracing their steps:

" I must say that it would not only be more convenient, but more
agreeable, if the cows were kept nearer to the house."

" It would be certainly," replied Alfred. " It is a pity that there
is not a cow-shed within the palisades; but we have no means of
making one at present. Next year, when my father has purchased
his horses and his sheep, which he talks of doing, we are to build a
regular yard and sheds for all the animals close to the house, and
l)alisaded rouud as the house now is, with a passage from one pali-
sade to the other. Then it will be very convenient; but * Rome
was not built in one day', as the proverb says; and we must, there-
fore, wait another winter."

" And be devoured by the wolves in the meantime," replied Emma,
laughing.

" Why, you are getting over your fright already, Emma."

"Yes; I feel pretty bold, now I think there is nothing to be
afraid of."

The remainder of the week was passed away in practising upon the
snow-shoes by the males of the party, the women scarcely ever ven-
turing out of doors, as the cold was very severe. Mary and Emma
were accompanied by Alfred for the first three or four days; and
after that, notwithstanding that the howling of the wolves was
heard every night, they took courage when they found that the
animals never made their appearance by daylight, and went as before
to milk the cows by themselves. On the Saturday they were in the
hopes of seeing old Malachi Bone, but he did not make his appear-
ance, and John, who could now get on very well in his snow-shoes,
became very impatient. Alfred and Martin were also very anxious
to see the old man, that they might ascertain if he had made any
discoveries relative to the Indians. Sunday, as usual, was a day of
rest from labour ; the services were read by Mr. Campbell, and the
evening passed in serious conversation.

Mr. Campbell, although usually in good spirits, was certainly not
BO on that evening : whether it was that the severity of the winter
which had set in, and the known long duration of it which they had
to encounter, had an effect upon his spirits, he was melancholy as

b *^

iS ll

t ■ I

. r :!i

i ;<

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

well as serious. He more than once referred to their former resi-
dence when in England, which was a very unusual thiug for him to
do, and by degrees the conversation was turned in that direction,
and although no one said so, they all felt what a change there was
in their present position from that which they had been forced to
leave. Mrs. Campbell, who perceived that a gloom was gathering
over the whole party, made several remarks tending to reconcile
them to their present lot, and after a time Mr. Campbell observed:

" Perhaps, my dear children, it may be a Divine mercy which has
sent you here to this wilderness; true it is that we are removed
from civilization, and shut up here by a severe winter, deprived of
the enjoyments and pleasures which were to be found in the society
which we were compelled to leave ; but let us also bear in mind that
we are removed from the many temptations which might have there
assailed us."

" But still. Papa, you would be very glad if circumstances would
permit us to return to England, would you not?" said Percival.

" Yes, my child, I should; and even if I had remained here so long
as to have become attached to the place and to the isolation which
at first is felt so irksome, I would still return to England and to
society, if I had the means. As Christians, we are not to fly from
the world and its temptations, but to buckle on our armour, and,
putting our trust in Him who will protect us, fight the good fight ;
that is, doing our duty in that state of life to which it shall please
God to call us."

" But if ever we were to return to England, there would be no
chance of our living as we did before we left it, would there, Papa?"

" I see none, my dear boy ; but we never know what is in store
for us. Should any of us ever return, I presume it would be to live
in a more humble way; and for my part, I should prefer that it
were so, for although I trust I did not greatly misuse that wealth
which I so long supposed to be mine, I should not be sorry to have
much less, and therefore less responsibility."

"Indeed, my dear Campbell, imperfect as we all are, I do not
believe that many could have made a better use of it than you did."

" I thought so at the time, my dear," replied Mr. Campbell; "but
since it hf i been lost to me, I have often thought that I might have
done more good with it. But the fact is, my dear children, there is
nothing so dangerous to our eternal welfare as great wealth ; it tends
to harden the heart by affording the means of constant self-indul-
gence: — under such circumstances man is apt to become selfish,
eiisily satisfied with his own works, and too proud to see his errors.

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

l1^

Did you observe in the Litany which I read at this morning's ser-
vice, how very appropriately is inserted the prayer for deliverance
under the perils of wealth ? —

"*In all time of our tribulation, in all time of our wealth, in the
hour of death, and in the day of judgment, good Lord deliver us.'

" Examine this, my dear children : in all time of our tribulation —
that is in poverty and distress, and perhaps famishing from want
(and in few positions are people so incited to crime), then in all time
of our wealth, evidently and distinctly placing wealth as more
dangerous to the soul's welfare than the extremest poverty and its
accompanying temptations ; and observe, only exceeded by the most
critical of all dangerous positions, when all has been done and no-
tliing can be undone — the hour of death, followed by the day of
judgment."

Mr. Campbell ceased speaking, and there was a pause for a minute
or two in the conversation, when Mary said, " What, then, my dear
uncle, do you consider as the most enviable position in life?"

"I consider a moderate independence as the most enviable; not
occupied in trade, as the spirit of barter is too apt to make us bend
to t-hat which is actually fraud. I should say a country gentleman
living on his own property and among his own tenants, employing
the poor around him, holds a position in which he has the least
temptation to do wrong, and the most opportunities of doing good."

" I agree with you, my dear," said his wife ; " and yet how few are
satisfied even with that lot !"

" Because the craving after wealth is so strong, that every one
would have more than he hath, and few men will be content. This
desire of aggrandizement overcomes and masters us ; and yet, what
can be more absurd than to witness the care and anxiety of those to
gain riches, who have already more perhaps than is necessary for
their wants—thus ' heaping up riches, not knowing who may gather
them', and endangering the soul to obtain that which they must
leave behind them when they die. Others amass wealth, not actuated
by the avarice of hoarding it up, but by the appetite for expending
it; who collect unjustly that they may lavish profusely; these are
equally foolish ; and how important is that lesson given in the Scrip-
tures." Mr. Campbell opened the Bible which lay before him and
read :

"'And he spake a parable unto them. The ground of a certain
rich man brought forth plentifully.

"'And he said. What shall I do? because I have no room where
to bestow my fruits.

> 'I

f I

I > 1

i I

.11

'■:^ ■ '\

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

"'And he said: This will I do; I will pull down my barns and
build greater, and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods.

"' And 1 will say to my soul : 8oul, thou hast much goods laid up
for many years, take thine ease ; eat, drink, and be merry.

"* But God said unto him : Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be
required of thee.' "

After a short silence, Mrs. Campbell observed, " I have often
reflected since I have been here, upon what might have been our
position had we decided upon remaining in England. We might
at this moment have been in the greatest distress, even wanting a
meal ; and I have, therefore, often thanked God that he left us the
means of coming here and providing for ourselves as we have done,
and as I have no doubt shall, with His blessing, continue to do.
How much better off are we at this moment than mauy thousands
of our countrymen who remain in England ! How many are starv-
ing ! How many are driven into crime from want, while we have a
good roof over our heads, sufficient clothing and more than sufficient
food ! "We have, therefore, great reason to thank God for the mercies
he has vouchsafed to us."

This conversation had a very strong effect upon the party, and
when they retired to rest, which they did shortly after, they laid
their heads upon their pillows not only with resignation, but with
thankfulness for the mercies which had been vouchsafed to thera,
and felt that in the wilderness they were under the eye of a watchful
and gracious Providence.

CHAPTER XVII.

On the Monday morning Alfred and Martin went to the cow-
house and slaughtered the bullock which they had obtained from
the commandant of the fort. When it was skinned it was cut up
and carried to the storehouse, where it was hung up for their winter
consumption.

As the party were sitting down to dinner tliey were greeted by
Captain Sinclair and a young lieutenant of the garrison. It hardly
need be said that the whole family were delighted to see them.
They had come overland in their snow-shoes, and brought some
partridges, or grouse as they are sometimes called, which they had
shot on their way. Captain Sinclair had obtained leave from the
commandant to come over and see how the Campbells were getting

and

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

on. Tie had no news of any importance, as tliey had liad no recent
communication with Quebec or Montreal ; all was well at the fort,
and Colonel Forater had sent his compliments, and begged, if he
could be useful, that they would let him know. Captain Sinclair
and his friend sat down to dinner, and talked more than they ate,
asking questions about everything.

"By the by, Mr. Campbell, where have you built your pig-
sties?"

" Inside the palisade, next to the fowl-house."

''That is well," replied Captain Sinclair, "for otherwise you may
be troubled by the wolves, who are very partial to pork or mutton."

" We have been troubled with them," replied Emma ; " at least
with their bowlings at night, which make me tremble as I lie awake
in bed."

" Never mind their howling. Miss Emma ; we have plenty of them
round the fort, I can assure you ; unless attacked, they will not
attack yon, at least I never knew an instance, although I must con-
fess that I have heard of them."

" You will, of course, sleep here to-night 1 "

" Yes, we will, if you have a bear or buffalo skin to spare," replied
Captain Sinclair.

" "We will manage it, I have no doubt," said Mr. Campbell.

" And if you could manage. Captain Sinclair," said Emma, some-
what archly, " as you say that they are not dangerous animals, to
])ting us in a few skins to-night, it would make the matter easy."

" Emma, how can you talk such nonsense ? " cried Mary. " Why
should you ask a guest to undertake such a service? Why have you
not proposed it to Alfred or Henry, or even to Martin?"

" We will both try, if you please," replied Alfred.

" I must put my veto on any such attempts, Alfred," said Mr.
Campbell. " We have sufficient danger to meet without running
into it voluntarily, and we have no occasion for wolves' skins just
now. I shall, however, venture to ask your assistance to-morrow
morning. We wish to haul up the fishing-punt before the ice seta
in on the lake, and we are not sufficiently strong-handed."

During the day Captain Sinclair took Alfred aside to know if the
old hunter had obtained any information relative to the Indians.
Alfred replied, that they expected him every day, but as yet had
not received any communication from him. Captain Sinclair stated
that they were equally ignorant at the fort as to what had been
finally arranged, and that Colonel Forster was in hopes that the
hunter would by this time have obtained some intelligence.

THE BFTTLRRS IN CANADA.

i 1 ,'i

Wi '

■i']

" I should not be surprised if Malachi Bone were to come here to-
morrow morning," replied Alfred, "lie has been away a lon<^ while,
and, I am sure, is as anxious to have John with him as John is im-
patient to go."

" Well, I hope he will ; I shall be glad to have something to tell
the Colonel, as I made the request upon that ground. 1 believe,
however, he was very willing that I should find an excuse for coming
here, as he is more anxious about your family than I could have
supposed. IIow well your cousin Mary is looking!"

" Yes ; and so is Emma, I think. She has grown half a head since
she left England. By the by, you have to congratulate nie on my
obtaining my rank as lieutenant."

" I do indeed, my dear fellow," replied Captain Sinclair. " They
will be pleased to hear it at the fort. When will you come over?"

" As soon as I can manage to trot a little faster upon these snow-
shoes. If, however, the old hunter does not come to-morrow, I will
go to the fort as soon as he brings ua any news."

The accession to their party made them all very lively, and the
evening passed away very agreeably. At night (.'aptain Sinclair
and Mr. Gwynne were ushered into the large bedroom where all the
younger male portion of the family slept, and which, as we before
stated, had two spare bed-places.

The next morning Captain Sinclair would have accompanied the
Miss Percivals on their milking expedition, but as his services were
required to haul up the fishing-punt he was obliged to go down, with
all the rest of the men, to assist; Percival and John were the only
ones left at home with Mrs. Campbell. John, after a time, having,
as usual, rubbed down his rifle, threw it on his shoulder, and, calling
the dogs which lay about, sallied forth for a walk, followed by the
whole pack except uld Sancho, who invariably accompanied the girls
to the cow-house.

Mary and Emma tripped over the new-beaten snow-path to the
cow-house merry and cheerful, with their pails in their hands,
Emma laughing at Captain Sinclair's disappointment at not being
permitted to accompany them. They had just arrived at the cow-
house when old Sancho barked furiously, and sprang to the side of
the building behind them, and in a moment afterwards rolled down
the snow-heap which he had sprung over, holding on and held fast
by a large black wolf. The struggle was not very long, and during
the time that it lasted the girls were so panic-struck that they re-
mained like statues within two yards of the animal. Gradually the
old dog was overpowered by the repeated snapping bites of the wolf,

THK BRTTIiERS IN CANADA.

9fl

yet he fought nobl^ to the Inat, when he dropped under the feet of
the wolf, his tongue hanging out, bleeding profusely and lifeless.
As soon as his adverse) ly was overpowered, the enraged animal, with
his feet upon the body of the dog, bristling his hair and showing
his powerful teeth, was evidently about to attack the young women.
Emma threw her arm round Mary's waist, advancing her body so
as to save her sister. Mary attempted the same, and then they re-
mained waiting in horror for the expected spring of the animal,
when of a sudden the other dogs came rushing forward, cheered on
by John, and flew upon the animal. Their united strength soon tore
him down to the ground, and John, coming up as the wolf defended
himself against his new assailants, put the muzzle of his rifle to the
animal's head and shot it dead.

The two sisters had held up during the whole of this alarming
struggle ; but as soon as they perceived the wolf was dead and that
they were safe, Mary could stand it no longer, and sank down on
her knees, supporting her sister, who had become insensible.

If John showed gallantry in shooting the wolf he certainly showed
very little towards his cousins. He looked at Mary, nodded his
head towards the wolfs body, and saying "He's dead", shouldered
his rifle, turned round, and walked back to the house.

On his return he found that the party had just come back from
hauling up the punt, and were waiting the return of the Miss
Percivals to go to breakfast.

" Was that you who fired just now, John?" said Martin.

" Yea," replied John.

" What did you fire at?" said Alfred.

" A wolf," replied John.

"A wolf ! where?" said Mr. Campbell.

" At the cow-lodge," replied John.

"The cow-lodge]" said his father.

"Yes; killed Sancho I"

" Killed Sancho ! why, Sancho was with your cousins 1"

" Yes," replied John.

" Then, where did you leave them ? "

" With the wolf," replied John, wiping his rifle very coolly.

" Merciful Heaven !" cried Mr. Campbell, as Mrs. Campbell turned
pale ; and Alfred, Captain Sinclair, Martin, and Henry, seizing their
vifles, darted out from the house, and ran with all speed in the
direction of the cow-house.

" My poor girls ! " exclaimed Mr. Campbell.

" Wolf's dead, Father," said John.

( M 63 ) •

.•I i.

■ ^

Bf «

-'I

^l^f

■i' 1

M TIIF'; HKTTLKKH IN CANADA.

*' Do.id ! Why didn't yoii Hay so, you naughty boyl" cr'-^d Mrs,
Canipl)t>ll.

" I wasn't asked," replied John.

In the nieuntinio the other party had gained tiie cow-honse ; and,
to their horror, beheld the wolf and dog dead, and the two young
women lying on the snow, close to the two animals; for Mary had
fainted away shortly after John had walked oU". They rurfhod to-
wards the bodies of the two girls, and soon discovered that they
were luot hurt. In a short time they were recovered, and were sup-
ported by the young men to the house.

As soon as they arrived Mrs. Campbell took them into their
room, that they might rally their spirits, and in a quarter of an hour
returned to the i)arty outside, who eagerly incjuired how they were.

"They are much more composed," replied Mrs. (Jampbell; "and
Emma has begun to laugh again ; but her laugh is rather hysterical
and forced ; they will come out at dinner-time. It appears that they
are indebted to John for their preservuti(m, for they say the wolf
was about to spring ujjon them when he came to their assistance.
We ought to be very grateful to heaven for their preservation. I
had no idea, after what Martin said about the wolves, that they were
80 dangerous."

" Why, Ma'am, it is I that am most to blame, and that's the fact,"
replied Martin. " When we killed the bullock I threw the oflal on
the heap of snow close to the cow-lodge, meaning that the wolves
and other animals might eat it at night, but it seems that this animal
w;is hungry, and had not left his meal when the dog attacked him,
and that made the beast so ril^ and savage."

"Yes; it was the fault of Martin and me," replied Alfred.
" Thank Heaven it's no worse ! "

" So far from being a subject of regret, I consider it one of thank-
fulness," replied Mr. Campbell. " This might have happened when
there was no one to assist, and our dear girls might have been torn
to pieces. Now that we know the danger, we may guard against it
for the future."

" Yes, sir," replied Martin ; " in future some of us will drive the
cows home, to be milked every morning and evening; inside the
palisade there will be no danger. Master John, you have done well.
You see. Ma'am," continued Martin, " what I said has come true.
A rifle in the hands of a child is as deadly a weapon as in the hands
of a strong man."

" Yes ; if courage and presence of mind attend its use," replied Mr.
Campbell. " John, I am very much pleased with your conduct"

TUB SKTTLKUH IN CANADA. W

" ^fotllcr called me naughty," ropIitMl John, latlier sulkily.

" Yes, John, 1 ciilled you naughty, for not telling ua the wolf wjis
dc ul, and leaving ua to auppoHe that your couaina were in danger;
not for killing the wolf. Now 1 kiaa you, and thank you for your
hravny and good conduct."

" I HJiall tell all the olficera at the fort what a gallant little fellow
you are, John," aaid (/aiitain Sinclair; "there are very few of them
who have Hhot a wolf. And what ia more, John, I have a beautiful
dug, which one of the oHiet'ra gave me the other day in exchange for
a [Kiiiy, and I will hring it over and make it a present to you for
your own dog. Jle will hunt anything, and he ia very powerful —
([iiite able to master a wolf, if you meet with one. He in half
niastill" and half Scotch deerhound, and he stauda as high as this,"
continued Captain Sinclair, holding liia hand about aa high aa <lohn's
ahoulder.

"I'll go to the fort with you," said John, "and bring him biic;k."

"So you shall, John, and I'll go with you," said Martin, "if
Wast'U' uleasea."

"Well," replied Mr. Campbell, "I think he may; what with
Martin, his own rille, and the dog, John will, I trust, be safe
I'liough."

"Certainly I have no objection," said Mrs. C'ampbell; "and many
thanks to you, Captain Sinclair."

" What's the dog's nameT' said John.

" Oscar," replied Captain Sinclair. " If you let him walk out with
your cousins, they need not fear a wolf. He will never be mastered
by one, as poor Sancho was."

" I'll lend him sometimes," replied John.

"Always; when you don't want him yourself, John."

*• Yes, always," replied John, who was going out of the door.

" Where are you going, dear?" said Mrs. Campbell.

'(ioing to skin the wolf," replied John, walking away.

"Well, he'll be a regular keen hunter," observed Martin. "I
dare say old Bone haa taught him to flay an animal. However, I'll
go and help him, for it's a real good skin." So saying, Martin
followed John.

" Martin ought to have known better than to leave the offal where
he did," observed Captain Sinclair.

" We must not be too hard, Captain Sinclair," said Alfred.
" Martin has a contempt for wolves, and that wolf would not have
stood his ground had it been a man instead of two young women
who were in face of him. Wolves are very cunning, and I know

'■' I

■"l^f

ill

-;,

riil

[ t

f *

bfe'

^P- i

100

THifi SEITLERB IN CANADA.

will attack a woman or child when they will fly from a man. Be-
Bidei, it i8 very unusual for a wolf to remain till daylight, even when
there is offal to tempt him. It was the offal, the animal's extreme
hunger, and the attack of the dog — a combination of circumstances
— which produced the event. I do not see that Martin can be
blamed, as one cannot foresee everything."

" Perhaps not," replied Captain Sinclair, " and * all's well that ends
weir."

"Are there any other animals to fear?" inquired Mrs. Campbell.

" The bear is now safe for the winter in the hollow of some tree or
under some root, where he has made a den. It will not come out till
the spring. The catamount or panther is a much more dangerous
animal than the wolf; but it is scarce. I do think, however, that
the young ladies should not venture out, unless with some rifles in
company, for fear of another mischance. We have plenty of lynxes
here ; but I doubt if they would attack even a child, although thty
fight when assailed, and bite and claw severely."

The Misses Percival now made their appearance. Emma was very
merry, but Mary rather grave. Captain Sinclair, having shaken
hands with them both, said :

"Why, Emma, you appear to have recovered sooner than your
sister!"

" Yes," replied Emma : " but I was much more frightened than
she was, and she supported me, or I should have fallen at the wolfs
feet. I yielded to my fears ; Mary held up against hers ; so, as her
exertions were much greater than mine, she has not recovered from
them so soon. The fact is, Mary is brave when there is danger, and
I am only brave when there is none."

" I was quite as much frightened as you, my dear Emma," said
Mary; "but we must now help our aunt, and get dinner ready."

" I cannot say that I have a wolfish appetite this morning," replied
Emma, laughing; "but Alfred will eat for me, and himself too."

In a few minutes dinner was on the table, and they all sat down
without waiting for Martin and John, who were still busy skinning
the wolf.

CHAPTER XVIII.

" Here come Martin and John at last," said Mr. Campbell, after
they had been about a quarter of an hour at table.

But he was mistaken ; instead of Martin and John, Malachi Bone

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

101

i f

made his appearance, aud, to their surprise, accompanied by his
young squaw, the Strawberry Plant.

Every cue rose to welcome them, and the Misses Percival went to
their little female acquaintance, and would have made her sit down
with them, but she refused, and took her seat on the floor near the fire.

" She a'n't used to chairs and stools. Miss ; let her be where she
is," sai<l old Bone, "she'll be more comfortable, and that's what
you want her to be, I'm sure. I brought her with me, because I
could not carry all the venison myself, and also to show her the way
in and out of the house, and how it is fastened, in case of sending a
message by night."

"Of sending a message by night!" said Mrs. Campbell, with sur-
prise; "why, what possible occasion could there be for that?"

Captain Sinclair aud Alfred, who perceived that the old hunter
had said too much, were quite at a loss what to say. They did not
like to frighten Mrs. Campbell and the girls about the Indians,
especially as they had just been so much alarmed with the accident
of the morning. At last Alfred replied :

"The fact is, my dear mother, that 'forewarned is being fore-
armed', as the saying is; and I told Martin to request Malachi
Bone, if he should hear of any Indians being about or near us, to
let us know immediately."

"Yes, Ma'am, that is the whole story," continued Malachi. "It's
the best plan, when you're in the woods, always to have ;'jur rifle
loaded."

Mrs. Campbell and the girls were evidently not a little fluttered
at this fresh intimation of danger. Captain Sinclair perceived it,
and said :

" We have always spies cr the look-out at the fort, that we may
know where the Indians are and what they are about. Last month
we know that they held a council, but that it broke up without their
coming to any determination, and that no hostile feeling was ex-
pressed so far as we could ascertain. But we never trust the Indians,
and they, knowing that we watch them, have been very careful not
to commit any outrages; they have not done so for a long while, nor
do I think they will venture again. At the same time, we like to
know where they are, and I requested Alfred to speak to Malachi
Bone, to send us immediately word if he heard or saw anything of
them: not, however, that I intended that the ladies should be
wakened up in the middle of the night," continued Captain Sinclair,
laughing ; " that was not at all necessary."

MuIacLi Bone would have responded, but Alfred pinched his arm;

'-1

102

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

; • t '■

l?M

-f.^ r

the old man understood what was meant, and held his tongue ; at
last he said :

"Well, well, there's no harm done, it's just as well that the Straw-
berry should know her way about the location, if it's only to know
where the dogs are, in case she comes of a message."

"No," replied Mr. Campbell; "I'm glad that she is come, and hope
that she will come very often. Now, Malachi, sit down and eat
something."

"Well, but about the Indians, Captain Sinclair," said Mra. Camp-
bell; "that you have not told us all I am certain, and the conviction
that such is the case will make me and the girls very uneasy ; so pray
do treat us as we ought to be treated; we share the danger, and we
ought to know what the danj^^er is."

"I do not think that there is any danger, Mrs. Campbell," replied
Captain Sinclair, "unless Malachi has further information to give
us. I do, however, perfectly agree with you tliat you ought to know
all that we know, and am quite ready to enter upon the subject,
trilling as it is."

"So I presume it must be, my dear," observed Mr. Campbell,
"for I have as yet known nothing about the matter. So pray.
Captain Sinclair, instruct us all."

Caj>tain Sinclair tlicn stated what he had before mentioned to
Alfred, and having so done, and pointed out that there was no occa
sion for alarm, he request Talachi l>o)ie would say if he had any
further information.

"The Injuns did meet us you say, and they could not agree, so
they broke up, and are now all out upon their hunting and trapping
for furs. But there's one thing I don't exactly feel comf(5rtable
about, which is that the 'Angry Snake', as he is called, who was at
the 'talk', and was mighty venomous against the English, has squatted
for the winter somewhere here about."

"The Angry Snake!" said Captain Sinclair. "Is that the chief
who served with the French, and wears a medal?"

"The very same, sir. He's not a chief, though; he was a very
good warrior in his day, and the French were very partial to him,
Jis he served them well; but he is no chief, although he was con-
sidered as a sort of one from the consequence he obtained with the
French. He is an old man now, and a very bitter one. Many's the
Englishman that he has tied to the stake and tortured, during the
war. He hates us, and is always stirring up the Injuns to make
war with us • but his day is gone by, and they do not heed him ?X
the council now."

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

103

" Then, why are you uncomfortable about himi'' said Mr.
Campbell.

" Because he has taken up his quarters for the winter hunting not
far from us, with six or seven of the young warriors, who look up to
him, and he is mischievous. If the Injun natior -von't make war,
he will do something on his own account, if he possibly can. He's
not badly named, I can tell you."

"Will he attack you 1"

" Me ! no ; he knows better. He knows my rifle well ; he has the
mark on his body; not but that he would if he dared, but I am
Injun myself, and know Injun craft. Then you see, these people
have strange ideas. During the whole war they never could even
hit me with their rifles, and they think I am not to be hurt— that's
their superstition — and my rifle, they think, never misses (they're
fdmost right there, for it does not once in a hundred times), so what
with this and that, they fear me as a supernatural, as we call it.
But that's not the case with you all here ; and if the Snake could
creep within these palisades, he might be mischievous."

" But the tribes know very well that any attack of this kind
would be considered as a declaration of hostilities," said Captain
Sinclair, " and that we should retaliate."

" Yes ; but you see the Snake don't belong to these tribes about
us; his nation is much farther off — too far to go for redress; and
the tribes here, although they allow him to join the 'talk' as an old
warrior who has served against the English, and from respect to his
age, do not acknowledge him or his doings. They would disavow
them immediately and with truth, but they cannot prevent his
doing mischief."

"What, then, is the redress in case of his doing any mischief?"
said Henry.

" Why, upon him and his band, whenever you can find them.
You may destroy them all, and the Injuns here won't say a word,
or make any complaint. That's all that can be done ; and that's
what I will do ; I mean to tell him so, when I meet him. He fears
me, and so do his men ; they think me medicine."

" Medicine ! What is that?" said Henry.

" It means that he has a charmed life," replied Captain Sinclair.
" The Indians are very superstitious."

"Yes, they be; well, perhaps I'll prove medicine; and I'll give
them a pill or two out of my rifle," said Malachi, with a grim smile.
"Howsomever, I'll soon learn more about them, and will let you
know when I do. Just keep your palisade gates fast at night, and

i II

411

I
I

■-4

!:■

I 'fiw

I Iff

'4\!.

.'] ■■■*

M (

K )

f ■ !•■.

- !

1'^

! ■

104

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

the dogs inside of them, and at any time I'll give you warning. If
I am on their trail the Strawberry shall come, and that's why I
brought her here. If you hear three knocks outside the palisade at
any hour of the night, why, it will be her, so let her in."

" Well," said Mrs. Campbell, " I'm very glad that you have told
me all this ; now I know what we have to expect, I shall be more
courageous and much more on my guard."

" I think we have done wisely in letting you know all we knew
ourselves," said Captain Sinclair. " I must soon take my leave, as
I must be at the fort before sunset. Martin and John are to come
with me, and bring back the dog."

"A'u't the boy going with mel" said Malachi.

" Yes, to-morrow morning he may go, but after his return from
the fort it will be too late."

" Well, then, I may as well stay here," replied Malachi. "Where
is he?"

" He is gone to skin a wolf which he shot this morning," replied
Alfred. " He will soon be her \"

Mrs. Campbell shortly related to Malachi the adventure of the
wolf. The old hunter listened in silence, and then gave a nod of
approbation.

" I reckon he'll bring home more skins than that this winter,"
said he.

The party then rose just as Martin and John made their appear-
ance. Captain Sinclair conversed with the Misses Percival, while
the old hunter spoke to the Strawberry Plant in her own dialect :
the others either went out or were busy in clearing the table, till
Captain Sinclair took his departure with John and Martin, each
armed with a rifle.

" Well, this has been an exciting day," observed Mr. Campbell a
little before they retired to bed. " We have much to thank God
for, and great reason to pray for his continued protection and assist
ance."

CHAPTEE XIX.

The next morning, a little after daybreak, Martin and John maue
their appearance, leading the magnificent dog which Captain SincUli
had given to John. Like most large dogs, Oscar appeared to be
very good-tempered, and treated the snarling and angry looks of che
other dogs with perfect contempt.

TUB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

106

"It is, indeed, a noble animal/' said Mr. Campbell, patting ita
head.

" It's a fine creature," observed Malachi. " A wolf would stand no
chance against him, and even a bear would have more on its hands
than it could well manage, I expect ; but come here, boy," said the
old hunter to John, leading the way outside of the door.

" You'd better leave the dog, John," said Malachi, " the crittur will
be of use here, but of no good to us."

John made no reply, and the hunter continued :

"I say it will be of use here, for the girls might meet with
another wolf, or the house might be attacked; but good hunters
don't want dogs. Is it to watch for us, and give us notice of
danger? Why, that's our duty, and we must trust to ourselves, and
not to an animal. Is it to hunt for us ? Why, no dog can take a
deer so well as we can with our rifles ; a dog may discover us •yhen
we wish to be hidden ; a dog's track will mark us out when we
would wish our track to be doubted. The animal will be of no
utility ever to us, John, and may do us harm, 'specially now the
snow's on the ground. In the summer time you can take him, and
teach him how to behave as a hunter's dog should behave ; but we
had better leave him now. Start at once."

John nodded his head in assent, and then went indoors.

"Good-bye !" said John, going up to his mother and cousins; "I
shall not take the dog,"

" Won't take the dog ! Well, that's very kind of you, John," said
Mary, " for we were longing to have him to protect us."

John shouldered his rifle, made a sign to Strawberry Plant, who
rose and, looking kindly at Mrs. Campbell and the girls, without
speaking followed John out of the hut. Malachi certainly was not
very polite, for he walked ofi", in company with John and the squaw,
without taking the trouble to say "Good-bye". It must, however,
be observed that he was in conversation with Martin, who accom-
panied them on the way.

The winter had now become very severe. The thermometer was
twenty degrees below the freezing-point, and the cold was so intense
that every precaution was taken against it. More than once Per-
cival, whose business it was to bring in the firewood, was frost-
bitten, but as Mrs. Campbell was very watchful, the remedy of cold
snow was always successfully applied. The howling of the wolves
continued every night, but they were now used to it, and the only
effect was, when one came more than usually close to the house, to
make Oscar raise his head, growl, listen awhile, and then lie down to

•

• f,"

106

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

I I.

' i\

■H

I'-

■A'Jil

\ 1

t^ i

n -i 'if

I "'

■i i

¥ ; ^

sleep again. Oscar became very fond of the girls, and was their in-
variable companion whenever they left the house. Alfred, Martin,
and Henry went out almost daily on hunting excursions; indeed,
as there were no crops in the barn, they had little else to do. Mr.
Campbell remained at home with his wife and nieces ; occasionally,
but not very often, Percival accompanied the hunters; of Malaehi
and John they saw but little ; John returned about every ten days,
but although he adhered to his jiromise his anxiety to go back to
Malaehi was so very apparent, and he was so restless, that Mrs.
Campbell rather wished him to be away, than remain at home so
much against his will.

Thus passed away the time till the year closed in ; confined aa
they were by the severity of the weather, and having little or
nothing to do, the winter appeared longer and more tedious than it
would have done if they had been settled longer, and had the crops
to occupy their attention ; for it is in the winter that the Canadian
farmer gets through all his thrashing and other work connected with
his farm, preparatory for the coming spring. This being their first
winter, they had, of course, no crops gathered in, and were therefore
in want of employment. Mrs. Campbell and her nieces worked and
read, and employed themselves in every way that they could ; but
constantly shut up witliin doors, they could not help feeling the
monotony and enmti of their situation. The young men found
occupation and amusement in the chase; they brought in a variety
of animals and skins, and the evenings were generally devoted to
a narration of what occurred in the day during their hunting ex-
cursions. But even these histories of the chase were at last heard
with indifierence. It was the same theme only with variations,
over and over again, and there was no longer much excitement in
listening.

" I wonder when John will come back again," observed Emma to
her sister as they were sitting at work.

" Why, he only left two days ago, so we must not expect him for
some time."

"I know that. I wonder if Oscar would kill a wolf; I should
like to take him out and try."

" I thought you had had enough of wolves already, Emma," replied
Mary.

'* Yes, well ; that old Malaehi will never bring us any more news
about the Indians," continued Emma yawning.

" Why, I do not think that any news about them is likely to be
pleasant news, Emma, and therefore why should you wish it?"

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

107

" Why, uiy dear Mary, because I want so7ne news ; 1 want soiiie-
thiug to excite me, I feel so dull. It's iiotliing but stitch, stitch, all
day, and I am tired of always doiug the same thing. What a horrid
thing a Canadian winter is, and not one-half ovei yet!"

" It is very dull ami monotonous, my dear Emma, I admit, and if
we had more variety of emi)loymeut we should find it more agree-
able; but we ought to feel grateful that we have a good house over
our heads, and more security than we anticipated."

*' Almost too much security, Mary. I b(igin to feel that I could
welcome an Indian even in his war-paint, just by way of a little
change."

"I think you would soon repent of your wish, if it were gra-
tified."

''Very likely, but I can't help wishing it now. When will they
come home] What o'clock is it'i I wonder what they'll bring; the
old story I suppose, a buck. I'm sick of venison."

" Indeed, Emma, you are wrong to feel such discontent and weari-

ness.

" Perhaps T am, but I have not walked a hundred yards for nearly
one hundred days, and that will give one the blues, as they call them,
and I do nothing but yawn, yawn, yawn, for want of air and exer-
cise. Uncle won't let us ove out on account of that horrid wolf.
I wonder how Captain Sinclair is getting on at the fort, and whether
he is as dull as we are."

To do Emma justice, it was seldom that she indulged herself iu
such lamentings, but the tedium was more than her high How of
spirits could well bear. Miu Campbell niade a point of arranging
the household, which gave her occupation, and Mary, from natural
disposition, did not feel the confinement as much as Emma did;
whenever, therefore, she did show symptoms of restlessness or was
trmpted to utter a complaint, they reasoned with and soothed, but
never re[)roached her.

The day after this conversation, Emma, to amuse herself, took a
ritle and went out with Percival. She fired several shots at a mark,
and by degrees acquired some dexterity. Gradually she became fond
of the exercise, and not a day passed that she and Percival did not
practise for an hour or two, until at last Emma could fire with great
precision. Practice and a knowledge of the perfect use of your
weapon gives confidence, and this Emma did at last acquire. She
challenged Alfred and Henry to fire at the bull's-eye with her, and
whether by their gallantry or her 8U{)erior dexterity, she was de-
clared victor. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell smiled when Emma came in

: i

j 1

niii

108

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

t a

l< I

and narrated her success, and felt glad that she had found something
which afforded her amusement.

It happened that one evening the hunters were very late; it was
9 clear moonlight night, but at eight o'clock they had not made their
appearance. Percival had opened the door to go out for some tire-
w>>od which had been piled within the palisades, and as it was later
than the usual hour for locking the palisade gates, Mr. (.^auipbell had
directed him so to do. Emma, attracted by the beauty of the night,
was at the door of the house, when the howl of a wolf was heard
close to them ; the dogs, accustomed to it, merely sprang on their
feet, but did not leave the kitchen fire ; Emma went out, and looked
through the palisades to see if she could perceive the animal, and
little Trim, the terrier, followed her. Now Trim waa so small, that
he could creep between the palisades, and as soon as he was close to
them, perceiving the wolf, the courageous little animal squeezed
through them and flew towards it, barking as loud as he could.
Emma immediately ran in, took down her rifle, and went out again,
as she knew that poor Trim would soon be devoured. The supposi-
tion was correct; the wolf, instead of retreating, closed with the little
dog and seized it. Emma, who could now plainly perceive the
animal, which was about forty yards from her, took aim and fired,
just as poor Trim gave a loud yelp. Her aim was good, and the wolf
and dog lay side by side. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, and Mary, hear-
ing the report of the rifle, ran out, and found Percival and Emma at
t^e palisades behind the house.

" I have killed him. Aunt," said Emma, " but I fear he has killed
poor little Trim ; do let us go out and see."

" No, no, my dear Emma, that must not be ; your cousins will be
home soon, and then we shall know how the case stands; but the risk
is too great."

" Here they come," said Percival, " as fast as they can run."

The hunters were soon at the palisade door and admitted; they
had no game with them. Emma jeered them for coming back
empty handed.

" No, no, my little cousin," replied Alfred, " we heard the report
of a rifle, and we threw down our game, that we might sooner come
to your assistance if you required it. What was the matter?"

" Only that I have killed a wolf, and am not allowed to bring in
my trophy," replied Emma. "Come, Alfred, I may go with you
and Martin."

They went to the spot, and found the wolf was dead, and poor
Trim dead also by his side. They took in the body of the little dog,

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

109

and left the wolf till the morning, when Martin said he would skin
it for MIhs Emma.

"And 1*11 make a footstool of it," said Emma; "that shall be my
revenge for the fright I had from the other wolf. Come, Oscar, good
dog ; you and I will go wolf-hunting. Dear me, who would have
thought that I should have ever killed a wolf— poor little Trim !"

Martin said it would be useless to return for the venison, as the
wolves had no doubt eaten it already ; so they locked the palisade
gate and went into the house.

Emma's adventure was the topic of the evening, and Emma her-
self was much pleased at having accomplished such a feat.

"Well," said Martin, "I never knew but one woman who faced a
wolf except Miss Emma.'

" And who was that, Martin ? " said Mrs. Campbell.

" It was a wife of one of our farmers. Ma'am ; she was at the out-
house doing something, when she perceived a wolf enter the cottage-
door, where there was nobody except the baby in the cradle. She
ran back and found the wolf just lifting the infant out of the cradle
by its clothes. The animal looked at her with his eyes flashing ; but
having its mouth full, it did not choose to drop the baby and spring
at her ; all it wanted was to get clear oflf with its prey. The woman
had presence of mind enough to take down her husband's rifle and
point it to the wolf, but she was so fearful of hurting the child that
she did not put the muzzle to its head, but to its shoulder. She
fired just as the wolf was making oft', and the animal fell, and could
not get on its feet again, and it then dropped the child out of its
mouth to attack the mother. The woman caught the child up, but
tlie wolf gave her a severe bite on the arm, and broke the bone near
the wrist, A wolf has a wonderful strong jaw. Ma'am. However,
the baby was saved, and neighbours came and despatched the
animal,"

" What a fearful position for a mother to be in !" exclaimed Mrs.
Cam})bell. " Where did that happen?"

"On the White Mountains, Ma'am," replied Martin. "Malachi
Bone told me the story ; he was born theic"'

"Then he is an American."

" Well, Ma'am, he is an American because he was born in this
country, but it was English when he was born, so he calls himself an
Englishman."

" I understand,'* replied Mrs. Campbell ; " he was born before the
colonies obtained their independence."

" Yes, Ma'am, long before ; there's no saying how old he is. When

.'U

I II

i.;.|

THE SKTTLKRS IN CANADA.

! •;:!

I ,

^ I

':'. \ I

I wjus quite a child, [ recollect he was then reckoned an old man ;
indeed, the name the Iiuliaiiu gave to him ])rove8 it. He then was
called the 'Gray Badger'."

"But is he so very old, do you really think, Martin]"

" I think he has seen more than sixty suowh, iVla'ani, hut not
many more; the fact is, his hai*- wan giay before he was twenty
years old ; ho told me Ht> himself, and that's one reason why the
Indians are so fearful of him. They have it from their fathers that
the (Jray Badger was a great liunttM", aa Malachi was, more than
forty years ag(/; so they imagine, as his hair was gray then, he must
have been a very old man at that time back, and so to them he
aj»i»ears to live for ever, and they consider him as charmed, and to
use their phrase 'great ineilicin<i\ I've h'jard some Indians declare,
that Malachi has seen one hundred and fifty winters, and they really
believe it. I never contradicted them, as you may imagine."

" Does he live comfortably?"

" Yes, Ma'am, he does ; his squaw knows what he wants, and does
what she is bid. She is very fond of the old man, and looks upon
him, as he really is to her, as a father. His lodge is always full of
moat, and he has plenty of skins. lie don't drink spirits, and if he
has tobacco for smoking and powder and ball, what else can he want i"

" Happy are they whose wants are so few," observed Mr. Camp-
bell. " A man in whatever position in life, if he is content, is
certain to be ha])py. Malachi Bone is a happier man than hundreds
in England who live in luxury."

Il ! <

' •*

' .'\

CHAPTER XX.

Alfred and Martin brought in the wolf which Emma had killed,
but it was frozen so hard that they could not skin it. Poor little
Trim was also carried in, but the ground was too hard frozen for
them to bury the body, so they put it into the snow until the spring,
when a thaw would take place. As for the wolf, they said nothing
about it, but they remained up when the rest of the family retired,
and after the wolf had been some time before the fire, they were able
to take off the skin.

On the following morning, when the hunters went out, they were
particularly desired to shoot a wild turkey if they could, as the next
day was Christmas-day.

"Let us take Oscar with us," said Alfred; "he is very swift, and

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

Ill

may nm them down; we iie*rer cun get np with thciu in our huow-
bhoea."

" [ wonder whether they will gut a turkey," Buid Kiunui, atWr the
huutiii<,' party had left.

"I think it will be dinicult," said Mrs. Campbell; "but Lluy \\ill
try all they can."

" I hope they will; for Christnias-day without a turkey will be
very un-Knglish."

'* We are not in England, my dear Emma," waid Mr. Campbell;
"and wild tinkeyn are not to bo ordered from thu potdtererw."

" 1 know that we are not in Englai.d, my dear Uncle, and 1 feel it
too. T waa not in earneat about the turkey. Uncle. It was the aaao-
eiation of ideas connected by long habit which nuide me think of
our Chriatmaa times at Wexton Hall; but, indeed, Uncle, if there
waa regret, it waa not for myself ao much as for you," replied Euima,
with tears in her eyes.

The hunters did not return till late, and when tlu'^y apjieared in
sight, Pcrcival, who had descried them, came in and said that they
were very well loaded, and were bringing iu their game slung upon
a pole.

Mary and Emma went out of the door to meet their cousins. That
there was a heavy load carried on a pole between Martin and Alfred
was certain, but they could not distinguish what it consisted of. As
the party arrived at the palisade gates, however, they discovered that
it was not game, but a human being, who was carried on a sort of
litter made of boughs.

"What is it, Alfred?" said Mary.

"Wait till I recover my breath," said Alfred, as he reached the
door, " or ask Henry, for I'm quite knocked up."

Henry then went with his cousins into the house, and explained
to them that as they were in pursuit of the wild turkeys, Oscar had
stopped suddenly and commenced baying ; that they went up to the
dog, and, in a bush, they found a poor Indian woman nearly frozen
to death, and with a dislocation of the ankle so severe that her leg
waa terribly swelled, and she could not move. Martin had spoken
to her in the Indian tongue, and she was so exhausted with cold and
hunger that she could just tell him that she belonged to a small
party of Indians who had been some days out hunting, and a long
way from where they had built their winter lodges; that she hail
fallen with the weight which she had to carry, and that her leg was
80 bad the could not go on with them; that they had taken her
burden, and left her to follow them when she could.

|i'

•/

' m

' t

■1!

,'r '

\( i' s

« '

112

THR BBTTLKR8 IN CANADA.

" Yea," continued Alfred ; " left the poor creature without food,
to perish in the buow. One day more, und it would have been all
over with her. It is wonderful how nhe can have lived through the
two last nightR as she has. But Martin Rays the Indians always do
leave a woman to perish in this way or recover as she can, if she
happens to meet with an accident."

"At all events, let us bring her in at once," said Mr. Campbell.
" t will first see if my surgical assistance can be of use, and after
that we will do what we can for her. How far from this did you
find her?"

"About eiglit milea," replied Henry ; "and Alfred has carried her
almost the whole way ; Martin and I have relieved each other,
except once, when I took Alfred's place."

" And so you perceive, Emma, instead of a wild turkey I hav«
brought an Indian squaw," said Alfred.

" I love you better for your kindness, Alfred," replied Emma,
''than if you had brought nie a waggon-load of turkeys."

In the meantime, Martin and Henry brought in the poor Indian,
and laid her down ou the floor at some distance from the fire, for
though she was nearly dead with the cold, too sudden an exposure to
heat would have been almost equally fatal. Mr. Campbell exanjined
her ankle, and with a little assistance reduced the dislocation. He
then bound up her leg, and bathed it with warm vinegar, as a finst
application. Mrs. Campbell and the two girls chafed the poor
creature's limbs till the circulation was a little restored, and then
they gave her something warm to drink. It was proposed by Mrs.
Campbell that they should make up a bed for her on the floor of the
kitchen. This was done in a corner near to the fireplace, and in
about an hour their patient fell into a sound .sleep.

** It is lucky for her that she did not fall into that sleep before we
found her," said Martin; "she would never have awoke again."

"Most certainly not," replied Mr. Campbell. "Have you any
idea what tribe she is of, Martin?"

"Yes, sir; she is one of the Cliippeways; there are many divi-
sions of them, but I will find out when she wakes again to which
she belongs; she was too much exhausted when we found her to
say much."

" It appears very inhuman leaving her to perish in that way,"
observed Mrs. Campbell.

" Well, Ma'am, so it does; but necessity has no law. The Indians
could not, if they would, have carried her, perhaps one hundred
miles. It would have, probably, been the occasion of more deaths,

TUP! BETTLKRN fN CANADA.

113

for the cold jh too great now for sicopinjj; out at iii^'hts for any tiino,
although they do coutrive with the help of a largo Hro to aUiy out
Horut.'tinieH."

" Self-presorvation is tho fiiHt law of nature certainly," observed
Mr. Campbell; "but, if 1 recollect right, the mivagos do not value
the life of a woman very highly."

"That's a fact, air," replied Martin; "not miu.'h more, I reckon,
than you would a beast of burden."

" It iH alwayH the case among wavage nations," oliaervod Mr. (Camp-
bell ; "the tirHt mark of civilization is the treatment of the other
BOX, and in proportion as civilization increases, so are the wonien
protected and well used. But your sujtper is ready, my chiUhen,
and I think after your fatigue and fasting you must reipiire it."

"I am almost too tired to eat," observed Alfred. "I shall in-
Hnitely more enjoy a good sleep \inder my bear skins. At the ssime
time I'll try what I can do," continued he, laughing, and taking his
seat at tahle.

Notwithstanding Alfred's observation, he contrived to make a
very hearty supper, i\nd Kmma laughed at his appetite after his pro-
fessing that he had so little inclination to eat.

"I said I was too tired to oat, Emma, ami so I felt at the time;
but as I became more refreshed my aj>petite returned," replied
Alfred with a smile, "and uotwithatandiug your jeering me, 1 mean
to eat some more."

"How long has Jolm been away?" said Mr. Campbell.

"Now nearly a fortnight," observed Mrs. Campbell; "he pro-
mised to come here on Christmas-day. I sujipuse we shall see him
to-morrow morning."

" Ves, Ma'am ; and old Bore will come with him, I dare say. He
said as niuch to me when lie was going away the hist time. He
observed tliat the boy could not bring the venison, nnd perhaps /to
would if he hail any, for he knows that people like plenty of meat
on Christmas-day."

"I wonder whether old TNIalachi is any way religiou.s," observed
Mary. " Do you think he is, Martin?"

"Yea, Ma'am; 1 think he feels it, but does not show it. I know
from my.self what are, probably, his feelings on the subject. When
I have been away for weeks, and sometimes for months, without
seeing or speaking to any one, all alone in the woods, I feel more
religious tlian I do when at Quebec on my return, although I do go
to church. Now old Malachi has, I tliink, a solemn reverence for
the Divine Being, and strict notions of duty, so far as he understands
( M 63 ) n

t ili

114

THB SBTTLERS IN CANADA.

r:>r^ i

it — but as he never goes to any town or mixes with any company,
so the rites of religion, as I may call them, and the observances of
the holy feasts, are lost to him, except as a sort of dream of former
days, before he took to his hunter's life. Indeed, he seldom knows
what day or even what month it is. He knows the seasons as they
come and go, and that's all. One day is the same as another, and
he cannot tell which is Sunday, for he is not able to keep a reckoning.
Now, Ma'am, when you desired Master John to be at home on the
Friday fortnight because it was Christmas-day, I perceived old
Malachi in deep thought; he was recalling to mind what Christraaa-
day was ; if you had not mentioned it, the day would have passed
away like any other; but you reminded him, and then it was that
he said he would come if he could. I'm sure that now he knows it
is Christuias-day, he intends to keep it as such."

" There is much truth in what Martin says," observed Mr. Camp-
bell; "we require the seventh day in the week and other stated
seasons of devotion to be regularly set apart, in order to keep us in
mind of our duties and preserve the life of religion. In the woods,
remote from communion with other Christians, these things are easily
forgotten, and when once we have lost our calculation, it is not to be
recovered. But come, Alfred, and Henry, and Martin must be very
tired, and we had better all go to bed. I will sit up a little while to
give some drink to my patient, if she wishes it. Good night, my
children 1"

CHAPTER XXI.

„

Christmas-day was indeed a change, as Emma had observed, from
their former Christmas; but altliough the frost was more than
usually severe, and the snow filled the air with its white flakes, and
the north-east wind howled through the leafless trees as they rasped
their long arms against each other, and the lake was one sheet of thick
ice, with a covering of snow which the wind had in difi*erent places
blown up into hillocks, still they had a good roof over their heads, and
a warm, blazing fire on the hearth: and they had no domestic miseries,
the worst miseries of all to contend against, for they were a united
family, loving and beloved ; showing mutual acts of kindness and
mutual acts of forbearance ; proving how much better was " a dish
of herbs where love is, than the stalled ox with hatred therewith".
Moreover, they were all piously disposed ; they were sensible that

.*L

TUB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

116

Dmpanj,
auc«8 of
: former
Q knows
I as they
her, and
ckoning.
e on the
ved old
ristrnaa-
B passed
^as that
cnows it

•. Carap-
r stated
lep us in
3 woods,
re easily
lot to be
be very
while to
ght, my

}d, from
re than
fes, and
jT rasped
of thick
t places
ads, and
niseries,
i united
less and
" a dish
•ewith".
3le that

they owed a large debt of gratitude to Heaven for all its daily
mercies in providing them with food and raiment, for warding off
from them sickness and sorrow, and giving them humble and con-
tented hearts ; and on this day, they felt how little were all worldly
considerations conipared with the hopes which were held out to them
through the great sacrifice which the goodness and mercy of God
had made for them and all the world. It was, therefore, with cheer-
ful yet subdued looks that they greeted each other when they met
previous to the morning prayers.

Mr. Campbell had already visited his patient and readjusted the
bandage: her ankle was better, but still very much swelled; the
poor creature made no complaints, she looked grateful for what was
done and for the kindness shown to her. They were all arrayed in
their best Sunday dresses, and as soon as prayers were over, had just
wished each other the congratulations so general, so appropriate, and
yet too oft'"^ so thoughtlessly given upon the anniversary, when
Malachi Bone, his little squaw the Strawberry, and John, entered
the door of the hut, laden with the spoils of the forest, which they
laid down in the corner of the kitchen, and then saluted the party.

"Here we are all together on Christmas-day," said Emma, who
had taken the hand of the Strawberry.

The Indian girl smiled, and nodded her head.

"And, John, you have brought us three wild turkeys; you are a
good boy, John," continued Emma.

"Tf we only had Captain Sinclair here now," said Martin to
Emma and Mary Percival, who was by Emma's side, shaking hands
with the Strawberry.

Mary coloured up a little, and Emma replied :

''Yes, Martin, we do want him, for I always feel as if he belonged
to the fan)ily."

"Well, it's not his fault that he's not here," replied Martin; "it's
now more than six weeks since he left us, and if the Colonel would
allow him, I'm sure that Captain Sinclair — "

" Would be here on this day," said Captain Sinclair, who with Mr.
Gwynne, his former companion, had entered the door of the house
without being observed ; for the rest of the party were in conver-
sation with Malachi Bone and John.

"Oh, how glad I am to see you!" cried Emma; "we only wanted
you to make our Christmas party complete ; and I'm very glad to
see you too, Mr. Gwynne," continued Emma, as she held out a hand
to each.

"We had some difficulty in persuading the Colonel to let us

i ■

H^*

•!'?1
'.'>1

ill

116

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

come," observed Captain Sinclair to Mary ; " but as we have heard
nothing further about the Indians, he consented."

"You have nothing more to fear from the Indians this winter,
Captain, and you may teil the Colonel so from me," said Malachi.
" I happened to be on their hunting-ground yesterday, and they have
broken up and gone westward, that is. Angry Snake and his party
have ; I have followed their track over the saow for a few miles just
to make sure ; they have taken everything with them, but somehow
or other I could not find out that the squaw was with them — and
they had one in their party. They carried their own packs of fur,
that I'll swear to, and they had been thrown down several times :
which would not have been the case if they had not been carried by
men ; for you see, the Injun is very impatient under a load, which
a squaw will carry the whole day without complaining. Now that
j)arty is gone, there is no other about here within fifty miles, I'll be
bound for."

" I'm very glad to hear you say so," replied Captain Sinclair.

" Then, perhaps this poor woman whom you succoured, Alfred, is
the squaw belonging to the party," observed Mr. Campbell.

Mr. Campbell then related to Malachi Bone wliat had occurred
on the day before; how the hunting-party had brought home the
woman, whom he pointed to in the corner where she had remained
unnoticed by the visitors.

Malachi and the Strawberry went up to her; the Strawberry
spoke to her in the Indian tongue in a low voice, and the woman
replied in the same, while Malachi stood over them and listened.

"It's just as you thought, sir; she belongs to the Angry Snake,
and she says that he has gone with his party to the westward, as the
beaver were very scarce down here ; I could have told him that.
She confirms my statement, that all the Indians are gone, but are to
meet at the same place in the spring to hold a council."

"Is she of the same tribe as the Strawberry?" inquired Henry.

"Tliat's as may be," replied Malachi; "I hardly know which
tribe the Strawberry belongs to."

" But they apeak the same language."

"Yes; but the Strawberry learnt the tongue from me," replied
Malachi.

" From you !" said Mrs. Campbell; "how was that?"

"Why, Ma'am, it's about thirteen or fourteen years back, that I
happened to come in u])on a skirmish which took place on one of
the small lakes between one of the tribes here and a war party of
llurons who More out. Thev were surprised by the Hurons, and

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

117

ve heard

I winter,
Malachi.
liey have
is party
dies just
omehow
jm— and
s of fur,
1 times:
Tried by
i, which
ow that
3, I'll be

lir.
ilfred, is

occurred
ome the
emained

awberry
! woman
ned.
Snake,
i, as the
im tliat.
it are to

enry.
V which

' replied

:, that I
1 one of
party of
Ons, and

every soul, as far as I could learn, was either scalped or carried
away prisoner. The Hurons had gone about an hour or two, when
I came up to the place where they fought, and I sat down looking at
the dead bodies, and thinking to myself what creatures men were to
deface God's image in that way, when I saw under a bush two little
sharp eyes looking at me; at first, I thought it was some beast, a
lynx, mayhap, as they now call them, and I pointed my rifle towards
it ; but before I pulled the trigger, I thought that perhaps I might
be mistaken, so I walked up to the bush, and there I discovered that
it was an Indian child, which had escaped the massacre by hiding
itself in the bush. I pulled it out ; it was a girl about two years
old, who could speak but a few words. I took her home to my
lodge, and have had her with me ever since, so I don't exactly know
what tribe she belongs to, as they all speak the same tongue. I called
her the 'Strawberry', because I found her under a bush close to the
ground, and among strawberry plants which were growing there."

" And then you married her," said Percival.

"Married her! no, boy, I never married her; what has an old
man of near seventy to do with marrying ? They call her my squaw,
because they suppose she is my wife, and she does the duty of a wife
to me; but if they were to call her my daughter, they would be
nearer the mark, for I have been a father to her."

" Well, Malachi, to tell you the truth, I did think that she was
too young to be your wife," said Emma.

" Well, Misd, you were not far wrong," replied the old man. " I
do wish I could find out her tribe, but I never have been able, and
indeed, from what I can learn, the party who were surprised came a
long way from this, although speaking the same language ; and I
don't think there is any chance now, for even if I were to try to
discover it, there have been so many surprises and so much slaughter
within these last twenty years, that it's scarcely possible the search
would be attended with success."

"But why do you wish to find out her tribe?" said Mary.

" Because I'm an old man. Miss, and must soon expect to be
gathered to my fathers, and then this poor little girl will be quite
alone unless I can marry her to someone before I die: and if I do
marry her, why, then, she will leave me alone; but that can't be
helped, I'm an old man, and what does it matter?"

" It matters a great deal, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell ; " I wish
you would live with us; you would then be taken care of if you
required it, and not die alone in the wilderness."

" And the Strawberry shall never want friends or a home while

1 <

ill

f 'fl

118

THE 8ETTI,KI18 IN CANADA.

|i!'

i '.

n '

we can offer her one, Malachi," said Mra. Campbell; "let what will
happen to you, she will be welcome to live here and die here if she
will remain."

Malachi made no reply; he was in deep thought, resting his chin
upon his hands, which held his ritie before him. Mrs. Campbell
and the girls were obliged to leave to prepare the dinner. John had
sat down with the Strawberry and the Indian woman, and was
listening to them, for he now understood the Chippeway tongue.
Alfred, Sinclair, and the other gentlemen of the party were in con-
versation near the fire when they were requested by Mrs. Campbell
to retreat to the sitting-room, that the culinary oi)eration8 might not
be interfered with. Malachi Bone still continued sitting where he
was, in deep thought. Martin, who remained, said to the Miss
Percivala in a low voice :

"Well, I really did think that the old man had married the girl,
and I thought it was a pity," continued he, looking towards the
Strawberry, "for she is vory young and very handsome for a
squaw."

" I think," replied Mary Percivai, " she would be considered hand-
some everywhere, Martin, squaw or not; her features are very pretty,
and then she has a melancholy smile which is perfectly beautiful.
But now, Martin, pluck these turkeys, please, or we shall not have
them ready in time."

As soon as the dinner was at the fire, and could be left t" the care
of Martin, Mrs. (Campbell and the Misses Percivai went into the
sitting-room. Mr. Campbell then read the morning service of the
day, Henry officiating as clerk in the responses. Old Malachi had
joined the party, and was profoundly attentive. As soon as the
service was over he said:

"All this puts me in mind of days long past, days which appear
to me as a dream, when I was a lad and had a, father and a mother,
and brothers and sisters around me; but many summers and many
winters have passed over my head since tlien."

"You were born in Maine, Malachi, were you nof?"

" Yes, Ma'am, half-way up the White Mountains. He was a stern
old man, my father; but he was a righteous man. I remember how
holy Sunday was kept in our family; how my mother cleaned us all,
and put on our best clothes, and how we went to the chapel or church,
I forget which they called it; but no matter, we went to pray."

"Was your father of the Established Church, Malachi?"

**I can't tell, Ma'am; indeed, T hardly know what it means; but
he was a good Christian and a good man, that I do know."

THE SKTTLERS IN CANADA.

110

"You are right, Malacbi; when the population is crowded you
find people divided into sects, and, what is still worse, despising if
not hating each other, because the outward forms of worahip are a
little different. Here, in our isolated position, we feel how trifling
are many of the distinctions which divide religious communities, and
that we could gladly give the right hand of fellowship to any deno-
mination of Christians who hold the main truths of the Gospel.
Are not all such agreed in things essential, animated with the same
hopes, acknowledging the same rule of faith, and all comprehended
in the same divine mercy which was shown us on this day? What
do all sincere Christians believe but that God is holy, great, good,
and merciful, that His Son died for us all, and that through His rnerits
and intercession, if we conform to His precepts — whether members
of the Church of England or any other communion — we shall be
saved and obtain the blessedness of heavei; 1 We may prefer, and
reasonably prefer, our own mode of worahip, believing it to be most
edifying; but we have no right to quarrel with those who conscien-
tiously differ from us about outward forms and ceremonies which
do not involve the spirit of Christianity."

After a pause Mary said, " Malachi, will you tell us more about
your father and your family?"

" I have little to tell. Miss; only that I now think that those were
j^leasant days which then I thought irksome. My father had a large
farm, and would have had us all remain with him. In the winter
we felled timber, and I took quite a passion for a hunter's life; but
my father would not allow me to go from home, so I staid till he
died, and then I went away on my rambles. I left when I was not
twenty years old, and I have never seen my family since. I have
been a hunter and a trai)per, a guide and a soldier, and an interpreter;
but for these last twenty-five years I have been away from towns
and cities, and have lived altogether in the woods. The more man
lives by himself the more he likes it, and yet now and then circum-
stances bring up the days of his youth, and make him hesitate
whether it be best or not to live alone."

" I am glad to hear you say that, Malachi," paid Mr. Campbell.

"I little thought that I should ever have said it," replied the old
man, "when I first saw that girl by the side of the stream (looking
at Emma) — then my heart yearned towards the boy; and now this
meeting to praise God and to keep Christmas-day — all has helped."

"But do you not pray when you are alone?" said Mary.

"Yes, in a manner, Miss; but it's not like your prayers; the lips
don't move, although the heart feels. When I lie under a tree

•Mif

:•! I

120

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

:. i

i-'.

liM^i I

watching for the animala, and I take up a leaf and examine it, I
observe how curious and wonderful it is — I then think that God
made it and that man could not. When I see the young graas
springing up, and hoiv, I know not, except that it does so every year,
I think of God and His mercy to the wild animals in giving them
food; and then the sun reminds me of God; and the moon, and the
stars, as I watch, make me think of Him; but I feel very often that
there is something wanting, and that I do not worship exactly as I
ought to do. I never have known which ia Sunday, although I well
recollected how holy it was kept at my father's house; and I never
should have known that this was Christmas-day had it not been that
I had met with you. All days are alike to a man that is alone and
in the wilderness, and that should not be — I feel that it should
not."

" So true is it," observed Mr. Campbell, " that stated times and
seasons are necessary for the due observance of our religious duties;
and I am glad to hear Malachi say this, as I trust it will occasion
his being with us more than he has been."

" Come to us every Sunday, Malachi," said Mrs. Campbell.

" I think I will, Ma'am, if I can — indeed, why I say if I can, I
know not ; it was wrong to say so."

" I wish you to come not only on your own account, but for John's
sake ; suppose you agree to come every Sunday morning, and leave
us every Monday. You will then have the whole week for your
hunting."

" Please God, I will," replied Malachi.

" And bring the Strawberry with you," said Mary.

" I will, Miss ; it cannot but do her good."

Dinner was now announced, and they all sat down, a hapj)y party.
Their dinner consisted of white fish (salted), roast venison, boiled
salt beef, roast turkey, and a plum-pudding, and they were all very
merry, although they were in the woods of Canada, and not at Wex-
ton Hall.

"My children," said Mr. Campbell after dinner, "I now wish you
as much happiness as the world afi'ords, and at the same time desire
you to accept my most hearty thanks and my dearest love. You
have all been good, obedient, and cheerful, and have lightened many
a heavy load. If, when it pleased Providence to send us into this
wilderness, it had been part of my lot to contend with wilful and dis-
obedient children ; if there had been murmuring and repining at our
trials, discontent and quarrelling among yourselves, how much more
painful would have been our situation ! On the contrary, by your

TUB S£TTL£RS IN CANADA.

121

good-humour and attention, your willing submission to privations,
and your affectionate conduct towards me, my wife, and each other,
you have not allowed us to feel tlie change of position to which we
have been reduced. I say again, my dear children all, you have my
thanks, and may the Almi^^hty bless and preserve you!"

CHAPTER XXII.

On the following morning Malaohi Bone, the Strawberry, and
John set off for their abode to the westward, and Captain Sinclair
and his companion went back to the fort. The Indian woman was
better, and the family resumed their usual occupations. We must
now briefly narrate a few events which occurred during the remain-
der of the long winter. Malachi and John made their appearance,
accompanied by the Strawberry, almost every Sunday, and the old
hunter appeared gradually to become more reconciled to the society
of others, and sometimes would remain for a day or two. The Indian
woman, in the courae of three weeks, was quite recovered, and signi-
fied, through the Strawberry, her wish to leave and join her tribe.
To this, of course, no objection was raised ; and having received a
supply of provisions, she took her leave at the latter end of the
month of January.

February — March followed, and the winter still continued, but the
sun became more powerful, and the weather was not so severe. It
was not till the middle of April that the lake was clear of ice and the
thaw commenced, and then it was so rapid, that the little stream
became quite an injpetuous torrent, and a large portion of the prairie
land was under water. A few days, however, sufficed to change the
Kcene ; the snow which had covered the ground for so many months
had all disappeared ; the birds which had been mute or had migrated
during the winter, now made their appearance and chirped and twit-
tered round the house ; the pleasant green of the prairie was once
more jiresented to their view, and Nature began to smile again.
Otlier ten days passed, and the trees had thrown out their leaves,
and after one or two storms the weather became warm and the sky
serene.

(ireat was the delight of the whole party at this change ; and now
the cows were put out to their pasture, and Emma and Mary went
milking as before, no longer afraid of meeting with the wolves. The
boat was launched, and Percival and John went out to procure fish.

}

■'. t

1 '■

',, i

122

TIIK SKTTLKUH IN CANADA.

M ; 'M ■

Alfred, Henry, and Martin were very busy picking up the cleared
ground, to sow the first crop. Mr. Cami)bell worked all day in the
garden ; the poultry were noisy and bustling, and soon furnished an
abundant supply of eggs ; and as now the hunting season was over
for a time, Malachi and the Strawberry were continually coming to
visit them.

"Oh how delightful this is!" exclaimed Emma, as she stopped at
the bridge and looked on the wide blue lake; "is it not, Mary, after
having been cooped up for so many dreary months'?"

" It is, indeed, Emma ; I do not wonder at your flow of spirits; T
feel quite another person myself. Well, if the winter is long and
dreary, at all evenfs it doubly enliances the value of the spring."

" I tliink it's very odd that Captain Sinclair has not come to see us ;
don't you, Mary?"

"I certainly did expect him before this," rep]ie<l Mary; "I presume,
however, his duty will not permit him to come."

"Surely he could get leave, now that the weather is fine; there
was some reason for his not coming during the winter. I hope he is
not ill."

" I hope so too, most sincerely, Emma," replied Mary; " but come,
sister, we must not loiter; hear how the calves are bleating for us to
let them have their breakfasts; we shall have more of them very
soon; yes, and plenty of milk, and then we shall have plenty of
churning ; but I like work when the weather is fine."

After breakfast, Emma expressed her surprise to Alfred at Captain
Sinclair's not having made his appearance, and her fear that he was
not well. Alfred, at her request, promised to walk to the fort in the
afternoon and ascertain how matters were.

John, who had not forgotten the advice of Martin, brought in a
basket of fine trout from the stream almost every day, and the snp])ly
of fish and eggs proved very acceptable, for the beef had all been
consumed, and the family would otherwise have been reduced to
salt pork.

Alfred set off for the fort, accompanied by Martin. He returned
the next morning, full of news. Captain Sinclair was, as Emma had
imagined, unable to come, having had a severe fall, by which he hiul
injured his knee, and was laid up for a time: he was, however, in
very good s])irits, and the medical officer had ]Dromised that he should
be well again in a fortnight; he sent his kind regards to all the
family. The commandant also sent his compliments to Mr. Camp-
bell, and desired to acquaint him that, in a week or ten days, it was
his intention to send a boat to Montreal, and if Mr. Campbell had

11 ■ i

THE BETTLEUS IN CANADA.

123

' ; .

any purchases to make, or wished to send any one by the oppor-
tunity, he might do so, and the boat could bring back the articles he
required. They had had no further communication with Quebec, but
expected a runner to come every day witli tlie letters from England
and newspapers; and further, that he Ji'i^ed soon to be able to pay
hi.s respects in person.

Such was the information brouj^dit by Alfred ; Emma made many
inquiries relative to Caj)tain Sinchur aa Mary stood by, and Alfred
laughed at her extreme inquisitiveness. The proposition of the
commandant relative to the trip to Montreal was then discussed.
Old Malachi had several packages of furs to dispose of. Martin had
five, Alfred three, and Henry two; for, although we made no men-
tion of it, on their hunting excursions whoever killed the animal
was entitled to the skin. The packages of Malachi were, however,
of some value, as he had many beaver and other skins, while those of
]\Iurtiu and the others consisted chiefly of deer-skins. The question
was, whom to send down with them. Malachi was not inclined to
go, Martin could not well be spared, and, moreover, would very
probably get into some scrape if he went to Montreal; whereas
Henry and Alfred did not know anything about the value of skins;
otherwise, Mr. Campbell, who wished to purchase flour and pork,
besides several other articles, would have preferred sending one of
them. But the diflSculty was soon removed by old Malachi, who
observed that he had made a valuation of his skins, and that the
others could be valued also before they were packed up; and that
if not sold for what they ought to fetch, or nearly so, they had better
be brought back. Mr. Campbell was satisfied with this arrange-
ment, and Henry was appointed to undertake the journey. Mr.
Cani})bell made out his inventory of articles, Mrs. Campbell added
her list, and all was ready as soon as they received notice that the
boat was to leave. Martin did not appear at all annoyed at not
being selected for the ex})edition ; since Malachi Bone had informed
them that the Strawberry was not his wife, as they had supposed,
IVlartin was continually by her side. She began to speak a few
words of English, and had become a great favourite with everybody.

Mr. Campbell, aa soon as he perceived that Malachi no longer
avoided them, thought it but his duty to ofler him his land back
aLj'ain, but Malachi would not consent to accept it. He said he did
not want the land, although, perhaps, he might raise his lodge a little
nearer to them than it was ; at present things had better remain as
they were ; after which Mr. Campbell did not renew the subject.
Iklidachi soon acted upon his remark that perhaps he might raise hia

I -it I

.r I

I'.

1 ">" ii

1,1, !■

124

THE SRTTLEK8 IN CANADA.

ii!

lodge a little nearer, for a few days afterwards he made his appear-
ance with the Stmwberry and John, all three loaded with his house-
hold utensils, and in a very short time he had erected another wig-
wam within sight of the house at the western end of Mr. Campbeirs
prairie. This gave great satisfaction to Mrs. Campbell, because John
wag now always near to them; indeed, he no longer slept in the
lodge, but at the house, in the room with his brothers. The major
part of the day he passed at the lodge, or in company with the old
hunter; but by this new arrangement, they gradually became, as it
were, one family; not a day passed that the Strawberry did not
come to their house and make herself useful, assisting in everything
that she could, and rapidly learning what she did noi know.

One or two evenings after the message from the fort, Mrs. Camp-
bell asked Malachi some questions relative to the habits of the beaver,
as she had heard much of the sagacity of that animal.

"Well, Ma'am," said Malachi, "it's a most reasonable animal cer-
tainly, and I will say I never was tired with watching them ; I've
even forgot, in the summer-time, what I came out for, from having
fallen in with them at work."

" And so have I," said Martin. " I once was lying down under a
bush by the side of a stream, and I saw a whole council of them meet
together, and they talked after their own fashion so earnestly, that I
really think they have a language as good as our own. It's always
the old ones who talk, and the young ones who listen."

" Thats true," replied Malachi. " I once myself saw them hold a
council, and then they all separated to go to work, for they were
about to dam up a stream and build their lodges."

" And what did they do, Malachi i" said Mrs. Campbell.

"Why, Ma'am, they did all the same as Christians would have
done. The Injuns say that beavers have souls as well as themselves,
and certainly, if sense gave souls, the Injuns would be in the right.
The first thing that they did was to appoint their sentinels to give
notice of danger ; for the moment anyone comes near them, these
sentinels give the signal and away they all dive, and disappear till
the danger is over."

" There are many beasts as well as birds that do the same," ob-
served Mr. Campbell ; " indeed, most of those that are gregarious and
live in flocks."

" That's true, sir," replied Martin.

" Well, Ma'am, the beavers choose a place fit for their work.
What they require is a stream running througu a flat or bottom
which they may dam up so aa to form a large pond of a sufficient

( ?

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

I appear-
ia huuse-
her wig-
impbeirs
use John
t in the
le major
I the old
ine, aa it
did not
erything

3. Cau!j>-
tj beaver,

imal cer-

3m ; I've

having

under a
em meet
y, that [
'a always

m hold a
ley were

dd have
maelves,
tie right.
3 to give
ra, these
ipear till

me," olj-
ious and

r work.

bottom

ufficient

depth to cover the flat or bottom neverftl feet ; and when they have
found the spot they require, they begin their work."

" Perliaps," observed Mr. Campbell, " this choice requires more
sagacity than the rest of their labour, for the beavers must have some
eugineering talent to make the selection ; they must be able to caicti-
late as exactly as if they took their levels, to secure the size and
depth of water in the pond which ia necessary. It is the most
wonderful, perhaps, of all the instincts, or reasoning powers rather,
allotted to them."

"It ia, sir; and I've often thought so," replied Malachi; "and
then to see how they carry all their tools about them ; a carpenter's
biisket could not bo better provided. Their strong teeth serve as
axes to cut down the trees ; then their tails serve as trowels for their
mason's work ; their fore-feet they use as we do our hands, and their
tails are also employed as little carts or wheelbarrows.*'

" Pray go on, Malachi," said Mary; "I am quite interested."

" Well, Miss, I have known these little creatures as they are, raise
hanks four or five hundred paces in length, and a matter of twenty
ftiet high in some parts, besides being seven or eight feet thick ; and
all in one season — perhaps five or six months' work."

"But how many of them do you reckon are at the work?" said
Henry.

" Perhaps a hundred ; not more, I should say."

" Well ; but how do they raise these banks, Malachi? " said Emma.

" There, Miss, they ahow what sense thev have. I've often watched
tliem when they have been sawing through the large trees with the
fiont teeth; they could not carry the tree, that's sartain, if the whole
of them were to set to work, so they always pick out the trees by the
l)ank8 of the stream, and they examine how the trees incline, to see
if they will fall into the stream; if not, they will not cut them
down ; and when they are cutting them down, and they are nearly
ready for falling, if the wind should change and be against the fall,
they will leave that tree till the wind will assist them. As soon as
the trees are down, they saw off the branches and arms, and float the
log down to where the dam is to be made ; they lay them across, and
as they lay them one upon the other, of course the water rises and
enables them to float down and place the upper ones. But before
that, as soon as the lower logs are in their places the animals go and
fetch long grass and clay, which they load upon their flat tails, and
drag to the dam, filling up the holes between the timber till it is as
strong as a wall, and the water is completely stopped."

" Yea," said Martin ; " I have heard them at night working away

[ill

THB 8KTTLRKH Ilf CANADA.

? I

BO liard and flapping and Rpatt»>ring with their tniln that I could
imutrine there were fifty nwn at work iiiHte.id of a hundred of those
■ni*U animalfl, but they work by day and by night, a?id never ieeni
tired, till the dam is sound and their work is coni)ilete."

" But the raising of the dam is only preparatory, is it not, to their
buihling their own houses'?" observed Mrs. Campbell.

"Nothing more, Ma'am ; and I think the rest of the work is quite
as wonderful."

"But it is time to go to bed," obflcrvt-d Mr. Camj)bell, "and wo
must, therefort, leave the remainder of Maiaclii'a story till another
evening."

ciiArTp:R xxiir.

For two or three days Mr. CnmjAfell was very busy making out,
an inventory of the articles which ho retiuired. IFe had decided to
procure a small flock of sheep, and one or two of the Canatlian ponies
or galloways, as they would soon be required for the farm, as well ii.s
two carts or light waggons used in the country. In the meantime,
Alfred, Martin, and Henry were busy putting the seed in between
the stumps of the felled timber, merely hoeing up the earth and
raking it in, which was all that was required. The quantity of huul
cleared was about twelve acres, lialf of which was sowed with oats,
and the other with wheat ; the piece cleared on the other side of the
stream by Malachi Bone, and railed in, was sown with maize, oi*
Indian corn. As soon as the seed was in, '^hey all set to putting u])
a high fence round the cleared land, which was done with split rails
made from the white cedar, which grew in a swamp about half a mile
distant, and which, it may bo remembered, had in a great meaHure
been provided by the soldiers, who had been lent to assist them on
their arrival. The piece of prairie land, on the side of the stream
next to the house, was put apart for an early crop of hay, and as
soon as they could, they intended to turn the cows to feed in the
forest, that they might obtain hay from the other side, which had
belonged to Malachi; but the prairie required to be fenced in, and
this was the job that they took in hand as soon as the seeds were
sown.

"I hope, when the Colonel comes over," observed Martin to
Alfred, "that we shall persuade him to let us have some soldiers
this summer for we shall want them both for the fencing and get

TUB RRTTf.RflS IH OAKADA.

187

}

ting the hay -crop in. Our summers are uot rery long, and there ii
plenty to rlo."

" I think Father intends to make the request," replied Alfred.

"Ah! he will now see the value of Huh bit of prairie land to u now
Rettler; instead of having to go in search of hay, as they must now
do at the fort, we have plenty for hay and plenty for feed. So we
are to have some sheep, I fiiul?"

" Yes, and 1 suppose we must build a winter-yard for thorn."

" To bo sure w« must, for the wolvos are very partial to nnitton ;
I think on the whole, however, they liko pigs better. I winh we
could get the fence up round the prairie, but that we never can do
tliis year without we have help from the fort."

"Will it bo safe to turn the cows into the bunhl"

"01), yea! they will not be hurt by anything in the summer time;
somi'tinieH we have trouble to find them again, but not when they
have calves; they are certain to come home every evening to their
young ones."

"We shall have quite a herd of cattle; eight calves and eight

)}

cows.

" We must only bring up the cow calves, unless your father
intends to have oxen for the yoke. We shall require them about
the time they are fit to break in, that is, in two or three years."

" Yea, wo shall be great farmers by and by," replied Alfred with
a sigh ; for at the moment he was thinking of Cajjtaiu Lumley and
his nautical profession.

In the evening of the day on which this conversation took place
Malachi Bone was requested to resume his observations upon the
beavers.

"Well, Ma'am, as I said the other night, as soon as they have
dammed up the river and made the lake, they then build their
houses ; and how they manage to work under water and fix the posts
ill the ground is a puzzle to me; but they do fix six posts in the
ground, and very firmly, and then they build their house, which is
very curious ; it is in the form of a large oven, and made of clay and
fat earth, mixed up with branches and herbs of all sorts; they have
three sets of rooms one above the other, so that if the water rises
from a freshet or sudden thaw, they may be able to move higher and
keep themselves dry. Each beaver has his own little room, and the
entrance is made under the wat-^r, so that they dive down to go into
it, and nothing can harm them."

"How very curious. And what do they live upon, Malachi?"

" The bark of what we eall asp-wood. Ma'am, which is a kind of

i-t

' i

' I '^i

[* i

i i

i*'<ii#

'riQi ;

Wk I

^;l

: ^t t

tl-l^

128

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

sallow ; they lay up great quantities of it in the autumn as a provi-
sion for winter, when they are frozen up for some mouths."

"Well, but how do you take them, Malachi?"

"There are many ways, Ma'am; sometimes the Indians break
down the dam and let off the water, and then they kill them all ex-
cept a dozen of the females and half a dozen males ; after which they
stop up the dam again, that the animals may breed and increase ;
sometimes, when the beaver lake is frozen hard, they break into the
beaver house from the top; when they do that, the beavers all dive
and escape, but as they must come up to breathe at the holes in the
ice, they place nets and take them in that way, but they always
leave a sufficient number to keep up the stock ; they also take them
in traps baited with the asp- wood ; but that is more difficult."

"But there is another sort vi beaver, Ma'am, called the land-
beavei, which is more easily taken," observed Martin; "they make
holes in the earth like rabbits. The iudians say that these beavers
are those who are lazy and idle, and have been driven out by tlie
others for not working."

" Now, tell us what you do when you go out to hunt the beaver in
the winter, Malachi?"

"We never hunt the beaver only, Ma'am; we go out to hunt
everything ; we go to the beaver lakes, and then we set our traps for
beaver, otter, martin, mynx, cats, foxes, and every other animal,
some traps large and some small. We build our hut, and set our
traps all about us, and examine them every day; we cut what flesh
is good, and we employ ourselves skinning the animals which we
take."

" Is the beaver flesh good?"

" Yes, Ma'am, very tolerable eating ; perhaps the best we find at
that time."

"But what a miserable life that must be !" said Mrs. Campbell.

" Well, Ma'am, you may think so, but we hunters think otherwise,"
rejjlied Malachi; " we are used to it, and to being left alone to our
own thoughts."

" That's true," observed Martin ; " I'd rather p.ass the winter hunt-
ing beavers, than pass it at Quebec, miserable as you may imagine
the life to be."

"There must be a charm in the life, that is certain," observed Mr.
Campbell ; " for how many are engaged in it who go out year after
year, and never think of laying up any of their earnings."

"Very true, sir," replied Martin; "what they make from their
skins is spent as soon as they get to Quebec, as I know well, and
then they set off again."

" Why, they are like sailors," observed Alfred, " who, after a long

a provi-

8 break
n all ex-
icli they
ncreaae ;
iuto the
all dive
'8 in tlie
' alw:i}'3
,ke theiu
t."

he land-
ley make
( beavers
it by the

weaver in

to hunt
traps for

animal,
I set our
hat flesh
?hich we

e fin<l at

ipbell.

lerwise,"
e to our

ter hunt-

inia^^nne

ved Mr.
ear after

)m their
veil, and

T a long

THE 8BTTL£RS IN CANADA.

129

cruise, spend all their wages and prize-money in a few days, and then
go to sea again for more."

" Exactly," replied Malachi ; " and what's the use of money if you
keep it? A trapper can always take up as much powder and ball as
he wants upon credit, and pay with a portion of his skins on his
return. What does he want with the rest? It's of no use to him,
and so of course he spends it."

" But would it not be better to put it by until he had sufficient to
buy a farm, and live comfortably?"

" But does he live comfortably, Ma'am?" said Malachi. "Has he
not more work to do, more things to look after, and more to care for
with a farm, than when he has nothing?"

"It's very true philosophy, after all," observed Mr. Campbell;
" happy is the man who is content to be poor. If a man prefers
to live entirely upon flesh, as the hunters do, there is no reason why
he should work hard and till the ground to procure bread ; when
the wants are few, the cares are few also ; but still, even the savage
must feel the necessity of exertion when he has a wife and family."

" Yes, sir, to be sure he does, and he works hard in his own way
to procure their food; but tra])pers seldom have wives; they would
be no use to them in the woods, and they have no one to provide for
but themselves."

" It appears to me like a savage life, but a very independent one,"
said Mrs. Campbell, "and I presume it is the independence which
gives it such charms."

"That's it, depend upon it. Ma'am," replied Martin.

"But what do you do all the summer time, Malachi?"

" Why, Ma'am, we take to our rifles then ; there are the deer, and
the lynx, and the wild cats, and squirrels, and the bear, and many
other animals to look after; and then sometimes we go bee-hunting,
for the honey."

" Pray tell us how you take the honey, Malachi."

"Why, Ma'am, the bees always live in the hollows of the old
trees, and it's very difficult in a forest to find them out, for the hole
which they enter by is very small and very high up sometimes; how-
ever, when we get a lead, we generally manage it."

" Tell us what you mean, Malachi."

"We catch the bees as they settle upon the flo./^rs to obtain
honey, and then we let them go again. The bee, as soon as it is
allowed to escape, flies straight towards its hive ; we watch it till we
can no longer see it, and walk in that direction and catch another,
and so we go on till we see them settle upon a tree, and then we
know that the hive and honey must be in that tree, so we cut it
down."

(M53) I

I
■ i\

I !

i|.

■ >

.'!i

\l\

I ■Ml

■sir

'i ^

.1: \

if I ■ u

til

■ ''^

,.» :|

130

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

" How very clever!" said Percival.

" It requires a sharp eye though," said Martin, " to watch the bee
far ; some of the trappers catch the bees and give them sugar mixed
with whisky. This makes the bee tipsy, and he cannot fly so fast,
and then they discover the hive much sooner, as they can run almost
as fast as the bee flies."

" Tliat's capital!" cried Percival ; "but tell me, Martin, how do you
kill the bears?"

" Why, Percival, with our rifles, to be sure ; the easiest way to kill
them is when they are in their holes in the hollow trees."

"Hov^ do you get them out?"

"We knock the tree with our axes, and they come out to see
what's the matter, and as soon as they put their heads out, we shoot
them."

" It's quite true, Ma'am," said the hunter ; " the bears about here
are not very savage. We had much worse down in Maine. I've
seen the Indians in a canoe on a river watching the bears as they
swam across, and kill in the water six or seven in one day."

"Still a bear is an awkward sort of animal when it's angry,"
replied Martin; "and, as we may have them down here in the
autumn, it's as well not to let them be thought too lightly of."

" Indeed, there's no fear of that," said Emma ; "as for Malachi, he
think , nothing dangerous; but I have no wish to see a bear. You
say we may expect them, Martin. Why so 1 "

" Because, Miss, they are very fond of maize, and we have a field
of it sown, which may tempt them."

" Well, if they do come, I must trust to my rifle," replied Emma,
laughing; "at all events, I do not fear them so nmcli as I did when
I first came here."

"Don't fire, Miss, without you're sure of killing,"" said Malrchi.
" The creatures are very dangerous when wounded."

" Don't be afraid ; I'll only fire in self-defence, Malachi ; that is,
when I have no other chance left. I had rather trust to my heels
than my rifle. Were you ever hugged by a bear?"

" Well, I wasn't ever hugged ; but once I was much closer to one
than ever I wish to be again."

"Oh! when was that? Do, pray, tell us," said Emma.

" It was when I was young that one day I sounded a tree in the
forest with my axe, and I was certain that a bear wiis in it ; but the
animal did not show itself, so I climbed up the tree to examine tlie
hole at the top, and see if the bear was at home; as, if so, I was
determined to have him out. Well, Miss, I was on the top of the
hollow trunk, and was just putting my bead down into the hole,
when, all of a sudden, the edge of the tree which I kneeled

1 ,1

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

131

upon gave way, like so much tinder, and down I went into the
hollow ; luckily for me I did not go down head foremost, or there I
should have remained till this time, for the hole in the middle ot the
tree, as I found, was too narrow for me to havi turned in, and there
I must have stuck. As it was, I went down, with the dust and
crumbles smothering me almost, till I came right on the top of the
bear, who lay at the bottom; and I fell with such force that I
doubled his head down, so that he could not lay hold of me with lis
teeth, which would not have been pleasL-^t. Indeed, the bear was
quite as much, if not more, astonished than myself, and there he lay
beneath me, very quiet, till I could recover a little. Then I thought
of getting out, as you may suppose, fast enough, and the hollow of
the tree, providentially, was not so wide but that I could work up
again with my back to one side and my knees to the other. By this
meaMS I gradually got up again to the hole that I fell in at, and
p&vched myself a -^ oss the timber to fetch my breath. I had not
been there more than a quarter of a minute, and I intended to have
remained much longer, when I perceived, all of a sudden, the bear's
head within a foot of me ; he had climbed up after me, and I saw
that he was very angry, so in a moment I threw myself off my perch,
and down I went to the ground at the foot of the tree, a matter of
near twenty feet, even faster than I went down inside of it. I was
severely shaken with the fall, but no bones were broken ; in fact, I
was more frightened than hurt. I lay quite still for a little while,
when the growl of the bear put me in mind of him; I jumped on my
legs, and found that he was coming down the tree after me, and was
within six feet of the giound. There was no time to lose ; I caught
up my rifle, and had just time to put it to his ear and pettle him as
lie was placing his fore-foot on the ground."

" What a narrow escape !"

" Well, perhaps it was ; but there's no saying, Miss, which beats
till the fiiiht is over."

CHAPTER XXIV.

A notice arrived that the departure of the boat to Montreal would
take place on the next morning. When the boat came up, it brought
Captain Sinclair, to the great delight of the whole party, who had
felt very anxious about one with whom they had so long been inti-
mate and who had shown them so much kindness. His knee was
almost well, and, as soon as the first interrogations were over, he
made known to them that he had obtained six weeks' leave of
absence, and was about to proceed to Quebec.

132

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

"To Quebec I" cried Emroa; "and wliy are you going to Quebec?"

" To confess the truth, Emma," said Captain Sinclair, " my journey
to Quebec is but the preparatory step to my return to England for
perhaps two or three months."

"To England! Oh, how I wish — ;" but here Emma stopped;
she was going to say how much she wished that she was going also,
but her uncle and aunt were present, and, recollecting that it might
pain them and induce them to think that she was discontented, she
added, " that you would bring me out all the new fashions."

"All the new fashions, my dear Emma!" said Henry. "Why, do
you wish to be fashionably dressed in the woods of Canada?"

"Why not?" exclaimed Emma, who felt that she must appear to
be very foolish, but could not get out of her scrape. " I can look at
myself in the glass at all events."

"I will try to bring you out something which will give you
pleasure," rejjlied Captain Sinclair, " but as for the fashions, I know
you are only joking, by your trusting a person so incompetent as I
am to select them."

" Well, I do not think you would execute my commission very
well, so I will not trouble you," replied Emma; "and now let us
know why you are going to England."

"My dear Emma," said Mr. Campbell, "you ought not to put
such questions; Captain Sinclair has his own reasons, I have no
doubt."

" It is very true that I have my own reasons," replied Captain
Sinclair, "and, as I have no secrets, I will with pleasure gratify
Emma's curiosity. I do not know whether you are aware that I was
an orphan at a very early age, and have been under the charge of a
guardian. When my father died, he left directions in his will that
I was not to take possession of my property till I was twenty-five
years of age. I was twenty-five years old last year, and my guardian
has written requesting me to come home, that he may be relieved of
his responsibility, by making over to me the trust which has been
confided to him."

"Will it detain you long?" inquired Mr. Campbell.

" It must not. It is very difficult to obtain leave of absence from
your regiment in time of war. It 's only through interest that I do
so now. On my arrival at Quebec, the Governor will put me on his
staff, and then he will give me leave. I shall not stay longer than is
necessary, as I am anxious to be with my regiment again. You may,
therefore, be certain that, if I am spared, I shall be with you again
before the winter, if not much sooner. So now if you have really
any commissions for me to execute, I can only say I shall be most
happy to comply with your wishes to the best of my ability."

THE SETTLUUS IN CANADA.

133

Quebec?"
journey
land for

topped ;
ing also,
it might
ited, she

Why, do
n

ppear to
1 look at

ive you

I know

ent as I

on very
V let us

to put
have no

Captain
gratify
at I was
rgc of a
vill that
inty-five
[uardian
ieved of
las been

ice from
lat I do
e on his
than is
ou may,
u again
e really
be most

" Well," observed Emma, " we really were not aware that Captain
Sinclair was a man of fortune. You think now you will come back,"
continued she, gravely ; " but if once you get to England, you will
remain, and forget all about Canada."

"My fortune is not very large," replied Captain Sinclair; "in
England, hardly sufficient to induce a young lady of fashion to look
upon me, although enough, perhaps, for a sensible woman to be
ha{)py upon. My fortune, therefore, will not detain me in England,
and, as I said before, my greatest wish is to rejoin my regi-
ment."

" Whether you come back or remain," observed Mr. Campbell,
"you will always have our best wishes. Captain Sinclair. We are
not ungrateful for your kindness to us."

" Nor shall 1 forget the many happy houi> I have passed in your
society," replied Captain Sinclair ; " but we shall be melancholy if we
talk too long upon the subject. The boat cannot remain more than
two hours, and Henry must be ready by tluit time. The com-
mandant is anxious that it should start for Montreal this very
evening."

"Then, indeed, we have no time to lose," observed Mr. Campbell.
" Henry, get your trunk ready, and Martin will take it down into
the boat before we sit down to dinner. It will be a long while
before we have you to dine with us again," continued Mr. Campbell
to Captain Sinclair ; " but I wish you your health and much happi-
ness till you return. Come, girls, look after the dinner. Mary!
Avliere's Mary?"

" She went into the room a few minutes ago," said Emma ; " but
I'm here, and can do all that is required without her or my aunt
either. Come, Percival, lay the cloth; Alfred, come and help me,
this is almost too heavy for me. Oh, here comes my aunt ! now you
may go away, Alfred ; wo can get on better without you."

" There's gratitude," said Alfred, laughing.

As Henry had been in daily expectation of the summons, he was
not long in his preparations, and in a few minutes made his appear-
ance, accompanied by Mary. They then sat down to dinner, not
very cheerful, for Captain Sinclair's unexpected departure had
thrown a gloom over them all; however, they rallied a little towards
the close of the meal. It was now time to start. Captain Sinclair
and Henry shook hands with Mrs. Campbell and the Miss Percivals,
and, accompanied by the gentlemen of the party, walked down to
the beach.

" I can't bear parting with any ono that I have been so intimate
with," said Emma, after they were left alone. " I declare I could
sit down and have a hearty cry at Captain Sinclair's departure."

I III •

i! ;:

■I '
,t

ill i

134

THE SETTLERd IN CANADA.

Mary sighed, but made no answer.

" I am not surprised to hear you say so, Emma," said Mrs. Camp-
bell. " In England, when we were surrounded with friends, parting
waa always painful ; but here where we luave so few, I might almost
say only Captain Sinclair, it is of course most painful. However,
it's only for a time, I hope."

"It must be very dull to be on duty at the fort," said Mary; " I
should not be surprised at Captain Sinclair's not returning."

•* I should be exceedingly surprised," replied Emma. " I am sure
that he will come back, if he is not unavoidably pre /ented."

" Since he has expressed so much desire to rejoin his regiment, I
should be surprised as well as you, Emma," said Mrs. Campbell.
" He is not a volatile young man. But, come, we must clear away
the dinner-table."

Mr. Campbell, Alfred, Percival, and Martin soon returned, for
Captain Sinclair was obli(:ed to pusli off immediately, that he might
return in time to the fort, in obedience to his orders. Malachi and
John had gone out on a hunting ex])edition, and the Strawberry was
at her own lodge. The party that sat in the kitchen in the evening
was, therefore, much reduced ; and the taking farewell of Captain
Sinclair did not dispose thera to be very lively. A few words were
exchanged now and then, but the conversation drooped. Emma
spoke of Captain Sinclair's expectations and projects.

" We never know what may come in this world of change, my
dear Emma," said Mr. Campbell. "All Captain Sinclair's plans
may be overthrown by o'rcumstances over which he has no control.
How seldom do we meet with results Cfjual to our expectations!
When I was jiractising in my profession, I little expected that I
should be summoned to take possession of Wexton Hall; when once
in possession, as little did I expect that I should be obliged to quit
it, and to come to these desolate wilds. We are in the hands of God,
who does with us as He thinks fit. I have been reading this morn-
ing, and I made the observation not only how often individuals, but
even nations, are out in their expectations. I do not know a more
convincing proof of this than the narration of events, which from
their recent occurrence can hardly yet be considered as history, has
offered to me. Perhaps there never was so short a period in which
causes have produced effects so rapidly, and in which, in every case,
the effects have been directly opposite to what short-sighted mortals
had anticipated. It was in 1756, scarcely forty years ago, that the
French, being in possession of the provinces, attempted to wrest
from us those portions of Anierlca which we occupied. What was
the result? After a war which, for cruelty and atrocity, is perhaps
unequalled in history, both parties employing savages, by whom the

Ji.t

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

135

8. Camp-
parting
it almost
lowever,

'ary; "I

am sure

inient, 1
ampbell.
ar away

•ned, for
le might
iclii aud
erry was
evening
Captain
^•ds were
Emma

nge, my
•'s plans
control,
itations !
i that 1
leu once
to quit
of God,
a morn-
ds, but
a more
ih from
)ry, has
I which
vy case,
mortals
lat the
► wrest
at was
lerhaps
om the

French and English were alternately tortured and burnt to death,
France, in attempting to obtain all, lost all, and was compelled, in
1760, to surrender its own provinces to Great Britain. Here is one
instance in which affairs turned out contrary to the expectations of
France.

" Now again : At no period was England more prosperous or more
re8})ected by foreign nations than at tlie close of the war. Her pros-
perity made her arrogant and unjust. She wronged her colonies.
She thought that they dared not resist her imperious will. She
imagined that now that the French were driven from the Canadas,
America was all her own ; whereas it was because the French were
driven from the Canadas that the colonies ventured to resist. As
long as the French held this country, the English colonists had an
enemy on their frontiers, and consequently looked up to England for
support and protection. They required aid and assistance, and as
long as they did require it, they were not likely to make any remon-
stiance at being taxed to pay a portion of the expense which was
incurred. Had the French i)ossessed an army under Montcalm ready
to advance at the time that the Stamp Act, or the duty upon tea,
salt, &c., was imposed, I question very much if the colonists would
liave made any remonstrance. But no longer requiring an army for
their own particular defence, these same duties induced them to rise
in rebellion against what they considered injustice, and eventually
to assert their independence. Here, again, we find that affairs
turned out quite contrary to the expectations of England.

"Observe again. The American colonists gained their independ-
ence, which in all probability they would not have done had they
not been assisted by the numerous army and fleet of France, who,
irritated at the loss of the Canadas, wished to humiliate England
by the loss of her own American ])osses.sions. But little did the
French king and liis noblesse imagine, that in upholding the prin-
ciples of the Americans, and allowing the French armies and navies
(I may say the people of France en masse) to be imbued with the
same ])rinciples of equality, that they were sowing the seeds of a
revolution in their own country, which was to bring the king, as
well as the major part of the nobility, to the scaffold.

"There, again, the events did not turn out according to expecta-
tion, and you will observe that in every attempt made by either
party, the result was, that the blow fell upon their own heads, and
not upon that of the party which it was intended to cfjsh."

"I remember," said Alfred, after Mr. Campbell had finished
s|)eakirig, " having somewhere read a story of an Eastern king, who
purchased a proverb of a dervlse, which he ordered to be engraven
on all the gold and silver utensils in the palace. The proverb was.

i^l

■-i i

U .

Jt :

El' ■ i]s.i

' 1

f*i

■

. ; &

136

THE 8KTTLF.KS IN CANADA.

* Never undertake anything until you have well considered the end'.
It 80 happened, that there was a eonapiracy against the king, and it
was arranged that his surgeon should bleed him with a poisoned
lancet. The surgeon agreed — the king'*i arm was bound up, and one
of the silver basins was held to receive the blood. The surgeon read
the inscription, and was so struck with the force of it, that he threw
down the lancet, confessed the plot, and thus was the life of the
king preserved."

"A very apt story, Alfred," said Mrs. Canipbell.

"The question now is," continued Alfred, "us two of the parties,
France and England, have proved so short-sighted, whether the
Americans, having thrown off their allegiance, have not been equally
so in their choice of a democratieal government?"

" How far a modern democmcy may succeed, I am not prepared
to say," replied Mr. Campbell; '' but this I do know, that in ancient
times their duration was generally very short, and continually
changing to oligarchy and tyranny. One thing is certain, that there
is no form of government under which the people become so rapidly
vicious, or where those who benefit them are treated with such in-
gratitude."

"How do you account for that, sir?" said Alfred.

"There are two principal causes. One is, that where all men are
declared to be equal (which man never will permit his fellow to be
if he can prevent it), the only source of distinction is wealth, and
thus the desire of wealth becomes the ruling passion of the whole
body, and there is no passion so demoralizing. The other is, that
where the people, or, more properly speaking, the mob govern, they
must be conciliated by flattery and servility on the part of those
who would become their idols. Now flattery is lying, and a habit
equally demoralizing to the party who gives and to the paity who
receives it. Depend upon it, there is no government so contemptible
or so unpleasant for an honest man to live under as a democracy."

"It is my opinion, sir, and I believe a very general one," said
Alfred.

"How far the Americans may disprove such an opinion," con-
tinued Mr. Campbell, "remains to be seen ; but this is certain, they
have commenced their new form of government with an act of such
gross injustice, as to warrant the assumption that ':iil their boasted
virtues are pretence. I refer to their not liberating their slaves.
They have given the lie to their own assertions in their Declaration
of Independence, in which they have decL.red all men equal and
born free, and we cannot expect the Divine blessing upon those who.
when they emancipated themselves, were ao unjust as to hold tlieii
fellow-creatures in bondage. The time v/ill come, T have no doubt

THE SKTTLRR3 IN CANADA.

137

although perhaps not any of ua here present may see the day, when
the retribution will fall upon their heads, or rather upon the heads
of their offspring; for the sins of the fathers are visited upon the
children, even to the third and fourth generation."

CHAPTER XXV.

con-

In two d.ays Malaclii and Jolm returned, bringing with them the
skins of three bears which they had killed : but at this period of the
year the animals were so thin and poor, that their flesh was not
worth bringing home. Indeed, it was hardly worth while going out
to hunt just then, so they both remained much at home, either fish-
ing in the lake, or taking trout in the stream. Alfred and Martin
were still occupied with the farm ; the seed had come up, and they
were splitting rails for the prairie fence. About a fortnight after
Captain Sinclair's departure, Colonel Forater came in a boat from the
fort to pay them a visit.

" I assure you, Mr. Campbell," said he, " T was very anxious about
you last winter, and I am rejoiced that you got over it with so little
difficulty. At one time we had apprehensions of the Indians, but
these have passed over for the present. They meet again this summer,
but the Quebec govtinment are on the alert, and I have no doubt
but that a little conciliation will pat an end to all animosity. We
expect a large supply of blankets and other articles to be sent up
this spring, as presents to the tribes, which we hope will procure
their good-will ; and we have taken up several French emissaries,
who were working mischief."

" But still we shall be liable to the assaults of straggling parties,"
said Mr. Campbell.

" That is true," replied the Colonel, " but against them you have
your own means of defence. Yon would, in so isolated a position,
be equally liable to i. burglary in Ene-lf'.nd — only with the difference
that in England you would have the laws to appeal to, whereas here
you must take the law into your own hands."

" It certainly is not pleasant to be in a continual state of anxiety,"
observed Mr. Campbell ; " but we knew what we had to expect before
we came here, and we must make the best of it. So you have lost
Captain Sinclair, Colonel ! he is a great loss to ua."

" Yes, he is to go to England for a short time," replied the Colonel;
" but we shall soon have him back again. He must be very fond of
his profession to remain in it with his means."

)r..

^1%'

138

THE 8ETTLEH8 IN CANADA.

t ', w. jL

■'■'i

"He told us that he was about to take possession of a Hmall
property."

"A property of nearly X2000 per annum," replied the Colonel.
" He may consider it a small property, but I should think it other-
wise if it had fallen to my lot."

"Indeed, I had no idea, from wliat he said, that it was so larf,'e!"
said Mrs. Campbell. " Well, I have a hi<^li opinion of him, and have
no doubt but that he will make a good use of it."

"At all events, he can afford the luxury of a wife," said the
Colonel, laughing, " which we sohliers seldom can."

The Colonel then entered into conversation with Mr. Campbell
relative to his farm, and after many questions he observed :

" I have been thinkin ,^, Mr. Cam])bell, that it will be very advan-
tageous to the government as well as to you, when your farm is
cleared and stocked, if, with the water-power you possess here, you
were to erect a flour-mill and a saw-mill. You observe that the
government has to supply the fort with flour and i)rovisions of all
kinds at a very heavy expense of carriage, and the cattle we have at
the fort will cost us more t!»an they are worth, now that we havo
lost your prairie faim, so conveniently situated for us. On the otlu'r
hand, your produce will be almost useless to you, at the distance you
are from any mart ; as you will not And any sale for it. Now, if
you were to erect a mill, and grind your own wheat, which you may
do in another year, if you have funds sufiicient; and as you may
have plenty of stock, you will be able to supply the fort with flour,
beef, pork, and mutton, at a good profit to yourself, and at one-half
the price which government pays at present. I have written to the
Governor on the subject, stating that we have not the means of
keeping our stock, and pointing out to him what I now point out to
you. I expect an answer in a f«w days, and should he authorize me,
I may make arrangements with you even now, which will be satis-
factory, I have no doubt."

Mr. Campbell returned the Colonel many thanks for his kindness,
and of course expressed himself willing to be guided by his advice.
He stated that he had funds not only sufficient to erect a mill, but
also, if he were permitted, to pay for the labour of any party of men
which the commandant would spare during the summer season.

"That is the very point which I wished to ascertain; but I felt
some delicacy about making the inquiry. Now I consider that there
will be no difficulty in our arrangements."

The Colonel remained for some time looking over the farm and
conversing with Mr. Campbell, and then took his leave.

In the meantime, Alfred and his cousins went out to walk; the
weather was now beautifully clear, and in the afternoon the heat

THE bETTLERS IK CANADA.

139

■\

wjis not too oppressive. As ihey . ^eied by the side of th« atreaui,
Mary said :

"Well, Alfred, what do you think of the Colonel's proposition?"

"Yes," observed Emma, "you are a party deeply concerned
in it."

"How 80, dear coz?"

"Why, don't you porceivo that if the mill is erected, you will be
the proper person to have charge of it? What a change of profes-
sions, from a sailor to a miller. I thirik I see you in your coat, all
white with flour, coming in to dinner."

"My dear Emma, you don't intend it, I am sure, but you do not
know that you are inflicting pain upon me. When the Colonel
made the projiosition, I felt the importance of it, as it would be a
source of great proHt to my father; but at the same time, I don't
know how it is, 1 have always indulged the idea that we may not
stay here for ever, and this plan appeared so like decidedly settling
down to a residence for life, that it made me low-spirited. I know
that it is foolish, and that we have no chance of ever removing; but
still I cannot, even with this almost certainty before my eyes, keep
my mind from thinking ui)on one day returning to my profession,
and the idea of becoming a miller for life is wliat I cannot as yet
contemplate with any degree of oomjiosure."

" Well, Alfred, I oidy did it to tease you a little — not to hurt your
feelings, believe me," rei)lied Etuma. *' You shall not be a miller if
you don't like it. Henry will do better, perhaps, than you ; but as
for our quitting this place, I have no idea of its being ever possible.
I have made up my mind to live and die in the Canadian woods,
considering it ray wayward fate that all 'my sweetness should be
wasted on the desert air'."

" Repining is useless, if not sinful," observed Mary. " We have
much to be thankful for ; at le.'iat we are independent, and if we are
ever to repay the kindness of our uncle and aunt, who must feel
their change of condition so mucli more than we do, it must be by
cheerfulness and content. I have been thinking as well as 3'ou, Al-
fred, and I'll tell you what was in my thoughts. I looked forward to
a few years, by which time, ua the country fills up so fast, it is very
probable tliat we shall have other settlers here as neighbours, in
every direction. This will give us security. I also fancied that my
uncle's farm and property became of value and importance, and that
he himself became a leading man in the district; not only at hia
ease, but, for a settler, even wealthy ; and then I fancied that, sur-
rounded by others, in perfect security, and in easy and independent
circumstances, my uncle would not forget the great sacrifice which
my cousin Alfred so nobly made, and would insist upon his returning

140

Tllli: SUTTLUllS IN CANADA.

to that profeRBion to wliich he in so much attached, aud in wliich 1
have no doubt but that he will distiiigulHh hioifielf."

"Well said, my sweet prophet," said Alfred, kissinp; his co)i»lii:
"you have more sense than both of us."

"Answer for yourself, Alfred, if you please," said Emma, tossinp;
her head as if affronted. " I shall not forget that remark of yours, I
can assure you. Now, I prophesy quite the contrary: Alfred will
never go to sea again. He will be taken with the charm of some
Scotch settler's daughter; some Janet or Moggy, and settle down
into a Canadian farmer, mounted on a long-legged black pony."

"And I, too," replied Alfred, "prophesy that at the same time
that I marry and settle as you have described. Miss Emma Percival
will yield up her charms to some long-legged, black, nondescript sort
of a fellow, who will set up a whisky-shop and install his wife as
barmaid to attend upon and conciliate his customei's."

" Emma, I think you have the worst of this peeping into futurity,"
said Mary, laughing.

"Yes, if Alfred were not a fal.>^e prophet, of which there are
always many going about," replied Emma; "however, I hope your
prophecy may be the true one, Mary, and then we shall get rid of
him."

" I flatter myself that you would be very sorry if I went away ;
would have no one to tease, at all events," replied Alfred, "and
that would be a sad loss to yourself."

"Well, there's some sense in that remark," said Emma; "but the
cows are waiting to be milked, and so, Alfred, if you are on your
good behaviour, you had better go and bring us the pails."

"I really pity Alfred," said Mary, as soon as he was out of hear-
ing; "his sacrifice has been very great, and, much as he must feel
it, how well he bears up against it !"

"He is a dear, noble fellow," replied Emma; "and I do love him
very much, although I cannot help teasing him."

"But on some points you should be cautious, my dear sister; you
don't know what pain you give."

" Yes I do, and am always sorry when I have done it, but it is
not until afterwards that I recollect it, and then I am very angry
with myself. Don't scold me, dear Mary, 1 will try to be wiser; [
wonder whether what you say will come to pass, and we shall have
neighbours; I wish we had, if it were only on account of those
Indians."

"I think it very probable," replied Mary; "but time will show."

A few days afterwards, a corporal arrived from the fort, bringing
letters and newspapers; the first that they had received since the
breaking-u]) of the winter The whole family were in commotion as

i. i

TIIR 8RTTLRIIS IN CANADA.

the iiitvlli^'ence wan procluimed : INIary and lOinina left the fuwU
which they were feeding'; Percival threw down the pail with which
lie was attending the pigs; Alfred ran in from where he and Martin
were busy H[)litting raila; all crowde<l ronnd Mr. Oanipbell aa ho
(ijiened the packet in which all the letters and papers had been
enveloped at the fort. The letters were few; three from Miss Pater-
Hon, and two other friends in Kn<?land, givini; them the Knc^lish
/lews; one to Alfred from (Captain Lumley, iunniring after the
family, and telling him that he had mentioned his position to hi.s
friends at the Board, an<l there could be no call for his services for
the present ; one from Mr. Campbell's English agent, informing him
that he had remitted the money paid by Mr. Douglas Campbell f<;r
the plants, &c., to his agent at Quebec ; and another from his Quebec
agent, advising the receipt of the money and inclosing a balance-
sheet. The letters were fii'st read over, and then the newspapers
were distributed, and all of them were soon very busy and silent
during the perusal.

After a while, Emma read out. "Dear Uncle, only hear this,
llow sorry I am!"

*' What is it, my dear?" said Mr. Campbell.

" * Mrs. Douglas ( ^ampbell, of Wexton Hall, of a son, which
survived but a few hours after birth.'"

"I am very sorry too, my dear Emma," replied Mr. Campbell;
** Mr. Douglas Campbell's kindness to us must make us feel for any
misfortune which may happen to him, and to rejoice in any blessing
which may be bestowed upon him."

" It must have been a serious disappointment," said Mrs. Camp-
bell.

" Here is a letter from Colonel Forster, which I overlooked," said
Mr. Campbell ; ** it was between the envelope. He says that he has
received an answer from the Governor, who fully agrees with him in
his views on the subject we were conversing about, and has allowed
him to take any steps which he may think advisable. The Colonel
says that he will call upon rae again in a few days, and that if, in the
meantime, I will let him know how many soldiers I wish to employ,
he will make arrangements to meet my views as far as lies in his
power. We have to thank Heaven for sending us friends, at all
events," continued Mr. Campbell ; " but at present we will put his
letter aside, and return to our English news."

1 "

'I'l'

f M

it . i

143

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

CHAPTER XXVI.

It was very nearly five weeks before Henry ♦•.turned from his
expedition to Montreal. During this time the Cotonel had repeated
his visit and made arrangements with Mr. Campbell. A party of
twenty soldiers had been sent to work at felling timber and c-plitting
rails, for whose services Mr. Campbell paid as before. The winter
house and palisade fence for the sheep were put in hand, and great
progress was made in a short time, now that so many people were
employed. They had also examined the stream for some distance,
to ascertain which would be the most eligible site for the water-mill,
and had selected one nearly half a mile from the shore of the lake,
and where there was a considerable fall, and the stream ran with
great rapidity. It was not, however, expected that the mill would
be erected until the following year, as it was necessary to have a
millwright and all the machinery from either Montreal or Quebec.
It was intended that the estimate of the expense should be given in,
the contract made, and the order given during the autumn, so that it
might be all ready for the spring of the next year.

It was on a Monday morning that Henry arrived from the fort,
where he had stayed the Sunday, having reached it late on Saturday
night. The bateaux, with the stock and stores, he had left at the
fort; they were to come round during the day, but Henry's im-
patience to see the family would not allow him to wait. He was, as
may be supposed, joyfully received, and, as soon as the first recogni-
tions were over, he proceeded to acquaint his father with what he had
done. He had obtained from a Canadian farmer forty ewes of very
fair stock, although not anything equal to the English; but the agent
had worked hard for him, and procured him twenty English sheep
and two rams of the best kind, to improve the breed. For the latter
he had to pay rather dear, but they were worth any money to Mr.
Campbell, who was quite delighted with the acquisition. In selecting
the sheep, of course, Henry was obliged to depend on the agent and
the parties he employed, as he was no judge himself ; but he had,
upon his own judgment, purchased two Canadian horses, for Henry
had been long enough at Oxford to know the points of a horse, and
as they turned out, he had made a very good bargain. He had also
bought a sow and pigs of an improved breed, and all the other com-
missions had been properly executed : the packages of skins also
realized the price which had been put on them.

As it may be supposed, he was full of news, talking about Montreal,
the parties he had been invited to, and the people with whom he had
become acquainted. He had not forgotten to purchase some of the

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

143

from his
repeated
party of
pplitting
e winter
ad great
pie were
iistance,
ter-mill,
the lake,
•an with
11 would
have a
Quebec,
fiven in,

that it

;he fort,
aturday
t at the
y's ira-

was, as
recogni-
: he had

of very
le agent
h sheep
e latter

to Mr.
Blecting
3nt and
he had,

Henrv
'se, and
tad also
er com-
ns also

)ntreal,
he had

1 of the

latest English publications for his cousins, besides a few articles of
millinery, which he thought not too gay for their present position.
He was still talking, and probably would have gone on talking for
hours longer, so many were the questions which he had to reply to,
when Martin came in and announced thn arrival of the bateaux with
the stores and cattle, upon which they ail went down to the beach to
see them disembarked and brought up by the soldiers, who were at
work. The stores were carried up to the door of the storehouse, and
the sheep and horses were turned into the prairie with the cows. A
week's rations for the soldiers was also brought up from the fort, and
the men were very busy in the distribution, and carrying them to
the little temporary huts of boughs which they had raised for their
accommodation, during the time they worked for Mr. Campbell.
Before the evening set in everything was arranged, and Henry was
Kgain surrounded by the family and replying to their remaining
interrogatories. He told them that the Governor of Montreal had
sent them an invitation to pass the winter at Government House,
and promised the young ladies that no wolf should venture to come
near to them, and that the aides-de-camp had requested the honour
of their hands at the first ball which should be giverk after their
arrival, at which they all laughed heartily. In short, it appeared
that nothing could equal the kindness and hospitality which had
been shown to him, and that there was no doubt, if they chose to go
there, that it would be equally extended to the other members of the
family.

There was a pause in the conversation, when Malachi addressed
Mr. Campbell.

" Martin wishes me to speak to you, sir," said Malachi.

" Martin," said Mr. Campbell, looking round for him, and perceiv-
ing that he was not in the room; " why, yes, I perceive he has gone
out. What can it be that he cannot say for himself?"

"That's just what I said to him," replied Malachi; "but he
thought it were better to come through me; the fact is, sir, that he
hius taken a liking to the Strawberry, and wishes to make her his
wife."

"Indeed!"

" Yes, sir ; I don't think that he would have said anything about
it as yet, but you see, there are so many soldiers here, and two or
three of thesn are of Martin's mind, and that makes him feel uncom-
fortable till the thing is settled ; and as he can't well marry while in
your service without your leave, he has asked me to speak about it."

" Well, but the Strawberry is your property, not mine, Malachi."

" Yes, sir, according to Indian fashion I am her father ; but I've
no objection, and sha'n't demand any presents for her."

■»"k;

■'I •■

I if

■is

I!}

•u

144

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

. '!

,!''■

i'T iliist

" Presents for her! why, we in general give presents or money with
a wife," said Emma.

" Yea, I know you do, but English wives an't Indian wives ; an
English wife requires people to work for her and costs money to
keep, but an Indian wife works for herself and her husband, so she
is of value and is generally bought of the father ; I reckon in the ciui
that it's cheaper to pay for an Indian wife than to receive money with
an English one; but that's as may be."

"That's not a very polite speech of yours, Malachi," said Mrs
Campbell.

"Perhaps it an't, Ma'am, but it's near the mark, nevertheless.
Now I am willing that Martin should have the Strawberry, because
I know that he is a smart hunter, and will keep her well ; and some-
how or another, I feel that if he made her his wife, I should be more
comfortable ; I shall live with them h'^ie close by, and Martin will
serve you, and when he has a wife he will not feel inclined to change
service and go into the woods."

"I think it is an excellent proposal, Malachi, and am nmch
pleased with it, as we now phall have you altogether," said Mrs.
Campbell.

" Yes, Ma'am, so you will, and then I'll be always with the boy to
look after him, and you'll always know where we are, and not be
frightened."

" Very true, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell ; " I consider it a very
good arrangement. We must build you a better lodge than the one
that you are in."

" No, sir, not a better one, for if you have all you want you can't
want more; it's big enough, but perhaps not quite near enough.
I'm thinking that when the sheopfold is finished it might be as well
to raise our lodge inside of the palisades, and then we shall be a sort
of guard to the creatures."

" A very excellent idea, Malachi ; well, then, as far as I am con-
cerned, Martin has my full consent to marry as soon as he pleases."

" And mine, if it is at all necessary," observed Mrs. Campbell.

** But who is to marry themi" said Emma. " They have no chaplain
at the fort ; he went away ill last year."

" Why, Miss, they don't want no chaplain ; she is an Indian girl,
and he will marry her Indian fashion."

" But what fashion is that, Malachi?" said Mary.

" Why, Miss, he'll come to the lodge, and fetch her away to his own
house."

Alfred burst out into laughter. " That's making short work of it,"
said he.

"Yes, rather too short for my approval," said Mrs. Campbell.

Jk.%^

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA..

145

•ney with

rives; an
noney to
id, so she
ti the ciul
ney with

aid Mrs

srthelcBs.
, because
nd some-
i be more
,rtiu will

change

m much
aid Mrs.

le bov to
d not be

t a very

1 the one

iron car)'t

enough.

e as well

be a sort

am coTi-
leases."
)bell.
chaplain

ian girl,

his own
•k of it,"
impbell.

" Malachi, it's very true that the Strawberry is an Indian girl, but we
are not Indians, and Martin is not an Indian, neither are you who
stand as her father ; indeed, I cannot consent to give my sanction to
such a marriage."

" Well, Ma'am, as you please, but it appears to me to be all right.
If you go into a country and wish to marry a girl of that country,
you marry her according to the rules of that country. Now, Martin
seeks an Indian squaw, and why not therefore marry her after Indian
fashion?"

" You may be right, Malachi, in your argument," said Mrs. Camp-
bell ; " but still you must mf»ke allowances for our prejudices. We
never should thiuk that she was a married woman, if no further
ceremony was to take place than what you propose."

"Well, Ma'am, just as you please; but still, suppose you marry
them after your fashion, the girl won't understand a word that is
said, so what good will it do?"

" None to her at present, Malachi ; but recollect, if she is not a
Christian at present, she may be hereafter; I have often thought
upon that subject, and although I feel it useless to speak to her just
now, yet as soon as she understands English well enough to know
what I gay to her, I hope to persuade her to become one. Now, if
she should become a Christian, as I hope in God she will, she then
will perceive that she has not been properly married, and will be
anxious to have the ceremony properly performed over again ; so why
not do it now?"

"Well, Ma'am, if it pleases you, I have nr) objection; I'm sure
Martin will have none."

" It will please me very much, Malachi," replied Mrs. Campbell.

"And although there is no chaplain at the fort," observed Mr.
Campbell, "yet the Colonel can marry in his absence; a marriage
by a commanding officer is quite legal."

" Yes," replied Alfred, " and so is one by a captain of a man-of-
war.'

" i'<o be it then," replied Malachi ; " the sooner the better, for the
soldiers are very troublesome, and I cannot keep them out of my
lodge."

Martin, who had remained outside the door, and overheard all
that passed, now came in ; the subject was again canvassed, and
Martin returned his thanks for the permission given to him.

"Well," said Emma, "I little thought we should have a wedding
in the family so soon ; this is quite an event. Martin, I wish you
joy, you will have a very pretty and a very good wife."

" I think so too, Miss," replied Martin.

"Where is she?" said Mary.

(M&3) B

r
I:

> H

■ 1

146

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

" She is in the garden, Miss," said Malachi, " getting out of the
way of the soldiers ; now that the work is dene, they torment her not
a little, and she is glad to escape from them. I'd tell them to go
away, hut they don't mind me ; they know I must not use my rifle."

"I should hope not," replied Mrs. Campbell; "it would be hard
to shoot a good man merely because he wished to marry yoin-
daughter."

" Why, yes. Ma'am, it would," replied Malachi ; " so the soonei-
she is given to Martin, the sooner we shall have peace."

As the boat was continually going backwards and forwards be-
tween the fort and the farm, Mr. Campbell wrote to the Colonel,
stating what they wished him to do, and the Colonel appointed that
day week, on which he would come and perform the ceremony. It
was a little fSte at the farm. Mrs. Campbell and the Miss Percivals
dressed themselves more than usually smart, so did all the males of
the establishment; and a better dinner than usual was prepared, as
the Colonel and some of the officers were to dine and spend the day
with them. Martin was very gaily attired, and in high spirits.
The Strawberry had on a new robe of young deer skin, and had a
flower or two in her long black hair ; she looked, as she was, very
pretty and very modest, but not at all embarrassed. The marriage
ceremony was explained to her by Malachi, and she cheerfully con-
sented.

Before noon the marriage took place, and an hour or two after-
wards they pat down to a well-furnished table, and the whole party
were very merry, particularly as the Colonel, who was most unusually
gay, insisted upon the Strawberry sitting at the table, which she had
never done before. She acquitted herself, however, without embar-
rassment, and smiled when they laughed, although she could under-
stand but little of what they said. They had a very happy party ;
the only people who were discontented were three or four of the
soldiers outside, who had wanted to marry the Strawberry them-
selves; but the knowledge that their Colonel was there effectually
put a stop to anything like annoyance or disturbance on their parts.

At sunset the Colonel and officers departed for the fort; tlie
family remained in the house till past ten o'clock, by which time all
the soldiera had gone to bed. Mr. Campbell then read prayers, and
offered up an additional one for the happiness of the newly-married
couple, after which they all saluted the Strawberry and wished her
good-night; she was then led to the lodge by Martin, accompanied
by Alfred, Henry, Malachi, Percival, and John, who all went home
with them as a guard from any interruption on the part of the
disappointed suitors.

lit of the
it her not
;m to go
tny rifle."
be hard
rry your

le sooner

mrds be-
! Colonel,
nted that
aony. It
PercivaU

males of
jpared, as
I the day
h sipirita.
nd had a
was, very

marriage
fully con-

wo after-
lole party
unusually
h she had
it embar-
Id under-
py party ;
ur of the
'ry them-
ffectually
leir parts,
fort; the
time all
lyers, and
y-married
iahed her
ompanied
ent home
rt of the

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

CHAPTER XXYII.

147

" How cheerful and gay everything looks now!" observed Emma to
Mary a few mornings after the celebration of the marriage. " One
could hardly credit that in a few months all this animated landscape
will be nothing but one dreary white mass of snow and ice, with no
Hounds meeting the ear but the howling of the storm and the howl-
inn: of the wolves."

"Two very agreeable additions certainly," replied Mary; "but
what you observe was actually occurring to my own mind at the
very moment."

The scene was indeed cheeiful and lively. The prairie on one side
of the stream waved its high grass to the summer breeze; on the
other, the cows, horses, and sheep were grazing in every direction.
The lake in the distance was calm and unruffled; the binls were
siiioiiig and chirping merrily in the woods; near the liouse the
l)right green of the herbage was studded with the soldiers, dressed
in white, employed in various ways ; the corn waved its yellow ears
bet ween the dark stumps of the trees in the cleared land ; and the
smoke from the chimney of the house mounted straight up in a
column to the sky; the grunting of the pigs, and the cackling of the
fowls, and the occasional bleating of the calves, responded to by the
lowing of the cows, gave life and animation to the picture. At a
short distance from the shore the punt was floating on the still
waters. John and Malachi were very busy fishing; the dogs were
lying down by the palisades, all except Oscar, who, as usual,
attended upon his young mistresses ; and under the shade of a large
tree, at a little distance from the houne, were Mr. Campbell and Per-
cival, the former reading while the other was conning over his lesson.

"This looks but little like a wilderness now, Mary, does it?" said
Emma.

"No, sister. It is very diff'erent from what it was when we first
came; but still I should like to have some neighbours."

" So should I; any society is better than none at all."

"There I do not agree with you; at the same time I think we
could find pleasure in having about us even those who are not
cultivated, provided they were i-espectable and good."

" That's what I would have said, Mary ; but we must go in, and
practise the new air for the guitar which Henry brought us from
Montreal. We promised him that we would. Here comes Alfred
to spend his idleness upon us."

"His idleness, Emma? Surely you don't mean that; he's seldom,
if ever, unemployed."

ill
iU

iiii

I ; I

148

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

M-

'f » i ' !

.';:i

" Some people are very busy about nothing," replied Emma.

" Yes; and some people say what they do not mean, sister," replied
Mary. "Well, Alfred, here is Emma pronouncing vou to be an idle
body."

" I am not likely to be that, at all events," replied Alfred, taking
off his hat and fanning himself. " My father proposes to give me
enough to do. What do you think he said to me this morning before
breakfast?"

" I suppose he iiaid that you might as well go to sea again as re-
main here," replied Emma, laughing.

"No, indeed; I wish he had; but he has proposed that your
prophecy should be fulfilled, my malicious little cousin. He has
proposed my turning miller."

Emma clapped her hands and laughed.

"How do you mean?" said Mary.

"Why, he pointed out to me that the mill would cost about two
hundred and fifty pounds, and that he thought as my half -pay was
unemployed, that it would be advisable that I should expend it in
erecting the mill, offering me the sum necessary for the purpose.
He would advance the money, and I might repay him as I received
my pay. That, he said, would be a provision for me, and eventually
an independence."

" I told you that you would be a miller," replied Emma, laughing.
"Poor Alfred!"

"Well, what did you reply, Alfred?" said Mary.

" I said yes, I believe, because I did not like to say no."

"You did perfectly right, Alfred," replied Mary. "There can be
no harm in your having the property, and had you refused it it
would have given pain to your father. If your money is laid out on
the mill, my uncle will have more to expend upon the iarm; but
still it does not follow that you are to be a miller all your life."

" I should hope not," replied Alfred ; " as soon as Emma meets
with that long black gentleman we were talking of, I'll make it over
to her as a marriage portion."

"Thank you, Cousin," replied Emma, " I njay put you in mind of
your promise; but now Mary and I must go in and astonish the
soldiers with our music; so good-bye, Mr. Miller."

The soldiers had now been at work for more than two months, and
a large portion of the wood had been felled and cleared away. With
what had been cleared by Alfred and Mti.rtin and Henry the year
before, they had now more than forty acres of corn-land. The rails
for the snake-fence had also been split, and the fence was almost
complete round the whole of the prairie and cleared land, when it
was time for the grass to be cut down and the hay made and

;i, j

aa.

" replied

e an idle

1, taking
give me
ig before

in as re-

lat your
He has

)oi]t two
-pay was
end it in

purpose.

received
^entually

aughing.

•e can be
sed it it
id out on
am; but
ife."

na meets
:e it over

mind of
mish the

nths, and
'. Witii
the year
The rails
ts almost
when it
lade and

THE SETTuERS IN CANADA.

149

gathered up. Tbia had scarcely been finished when the corn was
ready for the sickle and gathered iu. A barn had been raised close to
the sheepfold as well as the lodge for Malachi, MartiL> and hia
wife. For six weeks all was bustle and hard work, but the weather
waa fine, and everything was got in safe. The services of the
soldiers were now no longer required, and Mr. Campbell having
settled his accounvs, they returned to the fort.

" Who would think," said Henry to Alfred, as he cast his eyes over
tlie buildings, the stacks of corn and hay, and the prairie stocked
with cattle, "that we had only been here so short a time?"

"Many hands make light work," replied Alfred; "we nave done
with the help from the fort what it woula have taken us six years
to do with our own resources. My father's money has been well laid
out, and will bring in a good return."

" You have heard of the proposal of Colonel Forster, about the
cattle at the fort?"

"No; what is it?"

"He wrote to my father yesterday, saying, as he had only the
means of feeding the cows necessary for the officers of the garrison, he
would sell all the oxen at present at the fort at a very moderate price."

" But even if we had fodder enough for them during the winter,
what are we to do with them?"

" Sell them again to the fort for the supply of the troops," replied
Henry, " and thereby giiin good profit. The commandant says that
it will be cheaper to government in the end than being compelled to
feed them."

" That it will, I have no doubt, now that they have nothing to
give them ; they trusted chiefly to our prairie for hay ; and if they
had not had such a quantity in store, they could not have fed them
last winter."

" My father will consent, I know; indeed, he would be very foolish
not to do so, for most of them will be killed when the winter sets in,
and will only cost us the grazing."

" We are fortunate in finding such friends as we have done," re-
plied Alfred. "All tiiis assistance would not have been given to
perhaps any other settlers."

" No, certainly not ; but you see, Alfred, we are indebted to your
influence with Captain Luniley for all these advantages, at least my
father and mother say so, and I agree with them. Captain Lumley'a
influence with the Governor has created all this interest about us."

" I think we must allow that the peculiar position of the family
has done much towards it."

" Very true, Alfred," replied Henry ; "but there is Mother waiting
for us to go in to dinner."

; Mi

ill

Si • '

Ui^.h

160

TUa SETTLERS IN CANADA.

Ill I!

'Yea; and the Strawberry by her aide. What a nice little creature
she is!"

" Yea ; and how quickly she is becoming useful ! She has almost
given up her Indian cuatoma and is settling down quietly into Engliab
habits. Martin appears very fond of her."

"And so he ought to be," replied Henry; "a wife with a smile
always upon her lips is a treasure, Come, let ua go in."

Another fortniglit passed '^way when an incident occurred which
created some unetisinesa. Mr. Campbell was busy with Martin iind
Alfred clearing out the storeroom and ananging the storea. Many
of the cases and packagea had been opened to be examined and airecl,
and they were busily employed, when, turning round, Mr. Campbell,
to his great aurprise, beheld an Indian by hia si<le, who waa earnestly
contemplating the various j ickages oi blauketa, &c., and cases <>!'
powder, shot, and other articles which were opened around him.

" Why, who is this?" exclaimed Mr. Campbell, starting.

Martin and Alfred, who had their backs to him at the time of Mr.
Campbell's exclamation, turned round and beheld the Indian. He
was an elderly man, vexy tall and muscular, dressed in leggings and
deer-skin coat, a war eagle's feather, fixed by a fillet, o)i ais head, antl
a profusion of cop'^)er and braya medals and trinkets round his neck.
His face waa not painted, with the exception of two black circles
round his eyes. His head was shaved, and one long scalp-lock hung
behind. He had i.. tomahawk and a knife in his belt and a rifle upon
his arm. Martin advanced to the Indian and looked earnestly at hiu»

" I know his tribe," said Martin ; " but not hi.s name ; but he is a
chief and a warrior."

Martin then spoke to )iim in tlie Indian tongue. The Indian
merely gave an "ugh" in reply.

"He does not choose to give his name," olxserved Martin; and,
therefore, he is here for no good. Mr. Alfred, just fetch Malachi ;
he will know him, I dare say."

Alfred went to the house for Malachi ; in the meantime the Indian
I'eraained motionless, with his eyes fixed u})on difierent articles ex-
posed to view.

"It's strange," observed Martin, "how he could havti come heie;
but to be sure, neither Malachi nor I have been out lately."

Just as he had finished his remark, Alfred returned with Mak'chi.
Malachi looked at the Indian and spoke to him.

The Indian now replied in the Indian language.

" I knew him, sir," said Malachi, " the iioment I saw his back.
He's after no good, and it's a thousand pities that he has come just
now and seen all this," contumed Malachi; "it's a strong tempta-
tion."

A^.'-^

THE 8KTTLERS IN CANADA.

161

" Why, who is he ? " said Mr. Caijapl)ell.

"The Angry Snake, sir," rejJied Mulachi. "I had no idea that
he would be in these parts before the meeting of the Indian council,
which takes place in another niouth, and tiitu 1 meuut to have been
on the look-out for him."

" But what have we to fear from him? "

" Well ; that's to be proved ; but this I can say, that he haa his
eyes upon what appears to him of more value than all the gold in the
universe; and he's anything but honest."

" But we have nothing to fear from one man," observed Alfred.

"Ills party an't far off, sir," said Malaclii. "He has some
followers, although not many, and those who follow him are as bad
as himself. We nuist be on the watch."

MalaH' now addr:s2ed the Indian for some time; the only "eply
was an "ugh".

" I have told him that all the powder and ball that he sees are for
oiu' rifles, which are more than are possessed by his whole tribe.
Mot that it does much good, but at all events it's just iia well to lot
them Irnow that we shall be well prepared. The crittur's quito
amazed at so much ammunition ; that's a fact. It's a pity he ever
saw it."

"Shall we give him some?" said Mr. Campbell.

" No, no, sir ; he would oidy make use of it to try to get the rest;
however, I believe that he is the only one of his |)arty who has a rifle.
The best thing is to close the doors, and then he will go."

They did as Malachi requested, and the Indian, after waiting a
short time, turned on his heel and walked away.

" He is a regular fiend, that Angry Snake," observed Malachi as
he watched him departing; "but never mind, I'll be a match for
him, I wish he'd never seen all that amnumition, nevertheless."

" At all events, we had better n >t say a word in the house about
his making his appearance," said Mr. Campbell. "It will only alarm
the women, and do no good."

" That's true, sir. I'll only tell the Strawberry," said Martin ;
"she's an Indian, and it will put her on the look-out."

"That will be as well, but cautior her not to mention it to Mrs.
Campbell or the girls, Martin."

"Never fear, sir," replied Malachi; "I'll watch his motions
neverchelep,3 • to-morrow I'll be in the woods and on his trail. I'm
glad that he saw me here, for he fears me ; I know that."

It so happened that the Indian was not seen by Mrs. Campbell or
any of them in the house, either upon his arrival or departure ; and
when Mr. Campbell and the others returned to the house they found
that no one there had any idea of such a visit having been paid. The

li^

152

THE 8KTTI.KRS IN CANADA.

secret was kept, but it occaaicned a great deal of anxiety for some
days. At last the alarm of Mr. Campbell gradually subsideii.
Malaclii had goue out with Johu, and had discovered that all the
Indians had come down near to tliem, to meet in council, and that
there were many other parties of them in the woods. But although
the visit of the Angry Snake might have been partly accidental, still
Malachi was convinced that there was every prospect of his paying
them another visit, if he could obtain a sufficient number to join
him, so that he might obtain by force the articles he had seen and m
much coveted.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

!■

( i

Mr. Campbell acceded to the offer made by the commandant of
the fort, and purchased of him, at a moderate price, eighteen oxen,
which were all that remained of the stock at the fort, except the
cows. He also took six weaning calves to bring up. The cattle were
now turned into the bush to feed, that they might obtain some after-
grass from that portion of the prairie on which they had been feed-
ing. The summer passed quickly away, for they all had plenty of
employment. They fished every day in the lake, and salted down
what they did not eat, for winter provision. Martin now was a great
part of his time iu the woods, looking after the cattle, and Malachi
occasionally accompanied him, but was oftener out hunting with
John, and always returned with game. They brought in a good
many bear-skins, and sometimes the flesh, whic h, although approved
of by Malachi and Martin, was not much admired by the rest. As
soon as the after-grass had been gathered in, there was not so much
to do. Henry and Mr. Campbell, with Percival, were quite sufficient
to look after the stock, and as the leaves began to change, the cattle
were driven in from the woods, and pastured on the prairie. Every-
thing went on in order; one day was the counterpart of another.
Alfred and Henry thrashed out the corn, in the shed, or rather open
barn, which had been put up by the soldiers in the sheepfold, and
piled up the straw for winter-fodder for the cattle. The oats and
wheat were taken into the storehouse. Martin's wife could now
understand English, and spoke it a little. She was very useful,
assisting Mrs. Campbell and her nieces in the house, and attending
the stock. They had brought up a large number of chickens, and
had disposed of a great many to the Colonel and officers of the fort.
Their pigs also had multiplied exceedingly, and many had been put
Dp to fatten, ready to be killed and salted down. The time for that

^■i«Lv " -'"^■ifc^i.

for iome
Hubsiiieil.
it all the
and thut
although
ntal, still
8 paying
r to join
m and ho

lid ant of
len oxen,
Lcept the
,ttle were
me after-
een feed-
plenty of
ed down
18 a great

Malachi
ing with
Q a good
approved
rest. As

so much

sufficient

:he cattle

Every-

another.
her open
fold, and

oats and
>uld now
y useful,
ittending
Lens, and

the fort,
been put

for that

TIllC UBTTLIC118 IN CANADA.

163

occupation was now come, and they were very busy curing their
meat; 'hey hud also put up a small uhed for smoking their bacou and
hams. Already they were surrounded with comfort and plenty, and
felt grateful to Heaven that they had been ao favoured.

The autumn had now advanced, and their routine of daily duty
was seldom interrupted; now and then a visit was paid them from
ihe fort by one or other of the officers or the commandant. The
Indians had held their council, but the English agent was present,
and the supply of blankets and other articles sent to the chiefs for
(liHtribution had the expected effect of removing all animosity. It
is true that the Angry Snake and one or two more made very violent
speeches, but they were overruled. The calumet^ of peace had been
presented and smoked, and all danger a})peared to be over from that
qujirter. Malachi hail gone to the council, and was well received,
lie had been permitted to speak also as an English agent, and his
words were not without effect. Thus everything wore the appear-
ance of peace and prosperity, when an event occurred which we shall
now relate.

Wlmt is termed the Indian summer had commenced, during which
there is a kind of haze in the atmosphere. One morning, a little
before dawn, Mary and Emma, who happened to be up first, went
out to milk the cows, when they observed that the haze was much
thicker than usual. They had been expecting the equinoctial gales,
which were very late this year, and Mary observed that she foresaw
they were coming on, as the sky wore every appearance of wind ;
yet still there was but a light air, and hardly perceptible at the time.
In a moment after they had gone out, and were taking up their pails,
Strawberry came to them from her own lodge, and they pointed to
the gloom and haze in the air. She turned round, as if to catch the
wind, and snuffed for a little while; at last she said, "Great fire in
the woods". Alfred and the others soon joined them, and after
having been rallied by Emma for being so late, they also observed
the unusual appearance of the sky. Martin corroborated the asser-
tion of the Strawberry that there was fire in the woods. Malachi
and John had not returned that night from a hunting expedition,
liut shortly after daylight they made their appearance ; they had seen
the fire in the distance, and said that it was to northward and east-
ward, and extended many miles; that they had been induced to leave
the chase and come home in consequence. During the remainder of
the day there was little or no wind, but the gloom and smell of fire
increased rapidly. At night the breeze sprang up, and soon increased
to a gale from the north-east, the direction in which the fire had been

1 Calumet, from ealaimu, a rpftd. A pipe amoked by the Ataericau Indiani wheu
tliey make peace or a treaty— heace, a Bymbol of peace.

'I I

164

THB SKTTLCRB IN CANADA.

I m

:: 1

1 i f

-■ 1 1 ri

1 1; i : 1

Been. Malachi and Martin were up several times in tha night, for
tliey knew that if the wind uuntinued in that quarter, without any
raiu, there would be danger ; still the lire was at a great distance,
but in the morning the wind blew almost a hurricane, and before
twelve o'clock on the next day, the smoke wjia borne down uj)ou
them, and carried away in nmsses over tlie lake.

"Do you think there is any danger, Martin, from this fire?" said
Alfred.

"Why, sir, that depends upon circumstances; if the wind were to
blow from the quarter which it now does, aa hard as it does, foi
another twenty-four hours, we sliould have the fire right down
upon us."

" liut still we have so much clear land between the forest and us
that I should think the house would be safe."

" I don't know that, sir. You have never seen the woods a-fire
for miles as I have; if you had, you wouUl know what it was. Wo
have two chances ; one is, that we may have torrents of rain conu-
down with the ^'ale, and the other is that thu wind may shift a point
or two, which would be the best chance for us of the two."

But the wind did not shift, and the raiu did not descend, and
before the evenitig set in, the fire was within two miles of them, and
distant roaring rent the air; the heat and smoke became more op-
pressive, and the party were under great alarm.

As the sun set, the wind became even more violent, and now thf
flames were distinctly to be seen, and the whole air was tilled with
myriads of sparks. The fire bore down upon them with resistless
fury, and soon the atmosphere was so oppressive that they could
scarcely breathe; the cattle galloped down to the lake, their tails in
the air, and lowing with fear. There they remained, knee-deep in
the water, and huddled together.

" Well, Malachi," said Mr. Campbell, " this is very awful. What
shall we do?"

"Trust in God, sir; we can do nothing else," replied Malachi.

The flames were now but a short distance from the edge of tho
forest; they threw themselves up into the air in high columns; tlnii,
borne down by the wind, burst through the boughs of the foie.st,
scorching here and there on the way the trunks of the large trees;
while such a torrent of sparks and ignited cinders was poured down
upon the prfiirie, that, added to the suffocating masses of smoke, it
was impossible to remain there any longer.

" You must all go down to the punt and get on board," said
Malachi. "There's not a moment for delay; you will be smothered
if you remain here. Mr. Alfred, do you and Martin pull out as far
into the lake as is necessary for you to be clear of the smoke and

TUl 8KTTLBIUB IM CAM4.DA.

165

night, for

thout imy

distance,

nd befoiu

)WU U|JOIl

irel" said

d were to

doea, foi-

jht down

ist and \\H

)od8 a- fire
was. Wo
raiu coiiiH
ft a point

ceiu\, ami

them, and

more op-

now till'
illed with

resistless
hey could
lir tails in
le-deep in

}. Whal

lachi.
ge of the
us; then,
he foi'Crit,
•ge tree.s;
red down
smoke, it

i,rd," said
mothered
lilt as far
uoke and

able to breathe. Quick, there is no time to be lost, for the gale is
rising faster thau before."

There was, indeed, no time to be lost. Mr. Campbell took his wife
by tlio arm; Ileury led the girls, for the smoke was so thick that
they could not see the way. l\*rcival and Strawberry followed.
Alfred and Martin had already gone down to get the l)oat ready.
In a few minutes they were in the boat and pushed otF from the
shore. The boat was crowded, but, being (hit-bottomed, she bore the
io.id w»dl. They pulled out ai)Out half a mile into the lake before
tliey found themselves in a leas op|)rcHsivo atmosphere. Not a word
was spoken until Martin and Alfred had stopped rowing.

" Alalaohi and John, where are they]" said Mrs. Campbell, who,
now that they were clear of the smoke, discovered that these were
not in tlie boat.

"Oh, never fear them, Ma'am !" replied Martin; "Malachi stayed
behind to see if he could be of use. lie knows how to Uike care of
himself, and of John too."

''This is an awful visitation," said Mrs. Cam|tboll, after u pause.
" Look, the whole wood is now on tire, close down to the clearing.
The house must bo burnt, and we shall save nothing."

" It is the will of (jo<1, my dear wife; and if we are to be deprived
of what little wealth we have, we must not murmur, but submit with
lesiiiuutitin. Let us thank Heaven that our lives are preserved."

Another pause ensue(h At last the silence was broken by Emma:

"There is the cow-house on lire— 1 see the (lames buisting from
the roof."

Mrs. Campbell, whose hand was on that of her husband, srpieezed
it in silence. It was the conmiencemcnt of the destruction of their
whole property — all their lal)our8 and eilbrts had been thrown away.
Tiie winter was coming on, and they would be houseless. Wliat
would become of them?

All this passed in her mind, but she did not speak.

At this moment the tiames of the fire rose uj) straight to the sky.
Martin ])erceived it, and jumped up on his feet.

"There is a lull in the wind," said Alfred.

" Yes," replied Martin, anil continued holding up his hand, " I felt
a drop of rain. Yes, it's coming; another quarter of an hour and
we may be safe."

Martin wtis correct in his observation; the wind had lulled for a
moment, and he had felt the drops of rain. This pause continued
for about three or four minutes, during which the cow-house burnt
furiously, but the ashes and sparks were no longer hurled down on
the prairie; then suddenly the wind shifted to the south-east, with
auch torrents of rain as almost to blind them. So violent was the

156

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

gust, that even the punt careened to it; but Alfred pulled its head
rouad smartly and put it before the wind. The gale was now
equally strong from the quarter to which it had changed; the lake
became agitated and covered with white foam, and before the punt
reached the shore again, which it did in a few minutes, the water
washed over its two sides, and they were in danger of swamping.
Alfred directed them all to sit still, and raising the blades of the
oars up into the air, the punt was dashed furiously through the
waves, till it grounded on the beach.

Martin and Alfred jumped out into the water and hauled the punt
further up before they disembarked; the rain still poured down in
torrents, and they were wet to the skin; as they landed, they were
met by Malachi and John.

" It's all over, and all is safe !" exclaimed Malachi. " It was touch
and go, that's sartain; but all's safe, except the cow-house, and that's
easily put to rights again. You all had better go home as fast as you
can, and get to bed."

" Is all quite safe, do you think, Malachi?" said Mr. Campbell.

" Yes, sir, no fear now; the fire hasn't passed the stream, and even
if it had this rain would put it out, for we only have the beginning
of it; but it was a near thing, that's sartain."

The party walked back to the house, and as soon as they had
entered Mr. Campbell kneeled down and thanked Heaven for their
miraculous preservation. All joined heartily in the prayer, and
after they had waited up a few minutes, by which time they were
satisfied that the flames were fast extinguishing and they had
nothing more to fear, they took otf their wet clothes and retired
to bed.

The next morning they rose early, for all were anxious to ascer-
tain the mischief that had been occasioned by the fire. The cow-
house, on the opposite side of the stream, was the only part of the
premises which had severely suffered; the walls were standing, but
the roof was burnt. On the side of the stream where the house stood,
the rails and many portions of the buildings were actually charred,
and, had it not been for the providential change of the wind and
the falling of the rain, must in a few minutes have been destroyed.
The prairie was covered with cinders, and the grass was burnt and
withered. The forest on the other side of the stream, to a great
extent, was burnt down; some of the largest trees still remained,
throwing out their blackened arms, now leafless and branchless, to
the sky; but they were never to throw forth a branch or leaf again.
It was a melancholy and desolate picture, and rendered still more so
hy the heavy rain which still continued to pour down without inter-
mission.

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

167

sd its head
) was 110 w
d; the lake
•e the punt
, the water
swamping,
ades of tlie
iroiigh the

id the piint

id down in

they were

was touch
, and tliat's
fast as you

mpbell.
i, and even
beginning

I they had
n for their
rayer, and

they were

they had

nd retired

s to ascer'
The cow-
art of the
nding, but
)U8e stood,
y charred,
wind and
destroyed,
jurnt and
;o a great
remained,
jchless, to
eaf again.

II more so
out inter-

As they were surveying the scene Malachi ana Martin came to
them.

" The stock are all right, sir," said Martin; " I counted them, and
there is not one missing. There's no harm done except to the cow-
house; on the contrary, the fire has proved a good friend to us."

"How so, Martin?" asked Mr. Campbell.

" Because it has cleared many acres of ground, and saved us much
labour. Ail on the other side of the stream is now cleared away,
and next spring we will have our cora between the stumps; and in
autumn, after we have gathered in the harvest, we will cut down
and burn the trees which are now standing. It has done a deal of
good to the prairie also; we shall have fine herbage there next spring."

" We have to thank Heaven for its mercy," said Mr. Campbell ;
"at one time yesterday evening I thought we were about to be
rendered destitute indeed, but it has pleased God that it should be
otherwise."

"Yes, sir," observed Malachi; "what threatened your ruin has
turned out to your advantage. Next year you will see everything
green and fresh as before ; and, as Martin says, you have to thank
the fire for clearing away more land for you than a whole regiment
of soldiers could have done in two or three years."

" But we must work hard and get in the corn next spring, for
otherwise the brusliwood will grow up so fast as to become a forest
again in a few years."

" I never thought of inquiring," said Mary, " how it was that the
forest could have taken fire."

" Why, Miss," replied Malachi, " in the autumn, when everything
is as dry as tinder, nothing is more easy. The Indians light their
fire, and do not take the trouble to put it out, and that is generally
the cause of it ; but then it requires wind to help it."

The danger that they had escaped made a serious impression on
the whole party, and the following day being Sunday, Mr. Campbell
did not forget to offer up a prayer of thankfulness for their preser-
vation.

The roof of the cow-house was soon repaired by Alfred and
Martin, and the Indian summer passed away without any further
adventure.

The day after the fire a de8])atch arrived from the fort to ascer-
tain their welfare, and the Colonel and officers were greatly rejoiced
to learn that comparatively so little damage had been done, for they
expected to find that the family had been burnt out, and had made
arrangements at the fort to receive them.

Gradually the weather became cold and the fires were lighted, and
a month after the evil we have described, the winter again set in.

■11

' ; I

4 ij

158

TnS SETTIERS IN CANADA.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Once more w<as the grouud covered with snow to the depth of
three feet. The cattle were littered down inside the iuclosure of
palisades round the cow-house; the sheep were driven into the
inclosed sheepfold, and the horses were put into a portion of the
barn in the sheepfold which had been parted off for them. All
was made secure, and every preparation made for the long winter.
Although there had been a fall of snow, the severe frost had not yet
come on. It did, however, in about a fortnight .ifterwards, and then,
according to the wishes of the Colonel, six oxen were killed for the
use of the fort, and taken there by the horses on a sledge ; this was
the last task that they had to fulfil, and theti Alfred bade adieu lo
the officers of the fort, as they did not expect to meet again till the
winter was over. Having experienced one winter, they were more
f illy prepared for the second ; and as Malachi, the Strawberry, iuid
John were now regular inmates of the house, for they did not keep
a separate table, there was a greater feeling of security, and the
monotony and dreariness were not so great as in the preceding
winter: moreover, everything was now in its place, and they had
more to attend to — two circumstances which greatly contributed to
relieve the e7inui arising from continual confinement. The hunting
parties went out as usual; only Henry, and occasionally Alfrt-d,
remained at home to attend to the stock, and to perform other oiWwA
which the increase of their establishment required. The new books
brought by Henry from Montreal, and which by common consent
had been laid aside for the v.'inter's evenings, Were now a great
source of amusement, as Mr. Campbell read aloud a portion of them
every evening. Time passed away quickly, as it always does wlien
there is a regular routine of duties and employment, and Christmas
came before they were aware of its approach.

It was a great comfort to Mrs. Campbell that she now always hail
John at home, except when he was out hunting, and on that scor ■
she had long dismissed all anxiety, as she had full confidence in
Malachi; but latterly Malachi and John seldom went out alone;
indeed, the old man appeared to like being in company, and his
misanthropy had wholly disappeared. He now invariably spent liis
evenings with the family assembled roimd the kitchen fire, and lia<l
become much more fond of hearing his own voice. John did not
so much admire these evening parties. He cared nothing for
new books, or, indeed, any books. He would a; mse himself making
moccasins, or working porcupine quills with the Strawberry at one
comer of the fire, and the others might talk or read, it was all the

I '

e depth of
uclosuie of
n into the
t\on of the
them. All
)ng winter,
lad not yet
J, and then,
led for tlie
J ; this Nv.i.s
de adieu lo
ain till the
were more
rherry, niA
d not keep
y, and the

precedini;

i they IkuI

tributed to

le hunt ill!::;

lly Alfre/l,

>ther oilu t's

new iHioks

on consent

iw a gieat

on of Ihem

does wlien

Christui.'us

Eilways ]m\
that scor ■
[ifidence ill
out alonr-;
, and liis
y spent liis
e, and had
in did not
othing for
elf makin*,'
>rry at one
W6a all the

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

159

flame, John never said a word or appeared to pay the least attention
to wha*^ ^'aa said. His father occasionally tried to make him learn
something, but it was useless. He would remain for hours with his
book before him, but his mind was elsewhere. Mr. Campbell, there-
fore, gave up the attempt for the present, indulging the hope that
wlien John was older he would be more aware of the advantages of
education, and would become more attentive. At present it was
only inilicting pain on the boy without any advantage being gained,
liut John did not always sit by the kitchen tire. The wolves were
much more numerous than in the preceding winter, having been
attracted by the sheep which were within the palisade, and every
night the howling was incessant. The howj of a wolf was sufficient
to make John seize his rifle and leave the house, anu he would
remain in the snow for hours till one came sufficiently near for him
to tire, and he had already killed several when a circumstance
occurred which was the cause of great uneasiness.

John was out one evening as usual, crouched down within the
palisades, and watching for the wolves. It was a bright starry
night, but there was no moon, when he perceived one of the animals
crawling along almost on its belly, close to the door of the palisade
wliich surrounded the house. This surprised him, as, generally
speaking, the animals prowled round the palisade which encircled
the sheepfold, or else close to the pig -sties, whi-^h were at the
opposite side from the entrance door. John levelled his rifle and
fired, wlien, to his astonishment, the wolf appeared to spring up in
the air on his hind legs, then fail down and roll away. The key of
the palisade door was always kept within, and John determined to
go in and fetch it, t}iat he might ascertain whether he had killed the
animal or not. When he entered, Malachi said :

"Did you kill, my boy?"

" Don't know," replied John; "come for the key to see."

"I don't like the gate being opened at night, John," said Mr.
Campbell; " why don'i you leave it, as you usually do, till to-morjow
morning? that will be time enough."

• I (ion't know if it was a .v olf," replied John.

" Wiiat then, boy, tell meV said Malachi.

" Well, 1 think it was an Indian," replied John, who then ex-
[)lained what had passed.

" Well, I shouldn't wonder," replied Malachi; "at all events the
g';te must not be opened to-night, for if it was an Indian you fired
at, there is more than one of them. We'll keep all fast, John, and
see what it was to-morrow."

Mrs. Campbell and the girls were much alarmed at this event, and
it was with difficulty that they were persuaded to retire to rest.

! i

t ;

I ■

ici

160

THE SRTTLER8 IN CAVADA.

. i

;! .

% I ''i''

i,|{

"We will keep watch to-night at all events," said Malaclii, as
soon as Mra. Campbell and her nieces had left the room. *' The boy
is right, I have no doubt. It is the Angry Snake and his party who
are prowling about, but if the boy has hit the Indian, which I have
no doubt of, they will make off; however, it will be just as well to
be on our guard, nevertheless. Martin can watch here, and I will
watch in the fold."

We have before observed that the lodge of Malaclii, Martin, and
his wife was built within the palisade of the sheepfold, and that
there was a passage from the palisade round the house to that which
surrounded the sheepfold, which passage had also a palisade on each
side of it.

" I will watch here," said Alfred ; " let Martin go home with you
and his wife."

" I will watch with you," said John.

" Well, perhaps that will be better," said Malachi ; " two rifles are
better than one, and if any assistance is required, there will be one
to send for it."

"But what do you think they would do?" said Mr. Campbell.
" They cannot climb the palisades."

" Not well, sir, nor do I think they would attempt it unless they
had a large force, which I am sure they have not; no, sir, they
wouH rather endeavour to set fire to the house if they could, but
that's not so easy. One thing is certain, that the Snake will try all
he can to get possession of what he saw in your storehouse,"

"That I do not doubt," said Alfred; "but he will not find it
quite so easy a matter."

"They've been reconnoitring, sir, that's the truth of it, and if
John has helped one of them to a bit of lead, it will do good ; for it
will prove to them that we are on the alert, and make them ciirtfiil
how they come near the house again."

After a few minutes' more conversation, Mr. Canipbell, Henry,
and Percival retired, leaving the others to watch. Alfred walked
home with Mahichi and his party to see if all was right at thesheej)-
fold, and then returned.

The night passed without any further disturbance, except tlio
howling of the wolves, to which they were accustonjed.

The next morning, at daybreak, Malachi and Martin came to the
house, and, with John and Alfred, they opened the palisade gate,
and went out to survey the spot where John had fired.

" Yes, sir," said Malachi ; " it was an Indian, no doubt of it.
Here are the dents made in the snow by his knees as he crawled
along, and John has hit him, for here is the blood. Let's follow the
trail. See, sir, he has been hard hit ; there is more blood this way

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

161

RH we go on. Ha !" contiDiied Malachi, as lie passed by a mound of
snow, " here's the wolf-skiu he was covered up with ; then he is dead
or thereabouts, and they have carried him off, for he never would
have parted with his skin, if he had had his senses about him."

" Yes," observed Martin, " his wound was mortal, that's certain."

They pursued the track till they arrived at the forest, and then,
satisfied by the marks on the snow that the wounded man had been
carried away, they returned to the house, when they found the rest
of the family dressed and in the kitchen. Alfred showed them the
skin of the wolf, and informed them of what they had discovered.

" I am giieved that blood has been shed," observed Mrs. Campbell;
" I wish it had not happened. 1 have heard that the Ind'aus never
forgive on such occasions."

"Why, Ma'am, they are very revengeful, that's certain, but still
they won't like to risk too m ■ H. This has been a lesson to them.
I only wish it had been the Angry Snake himself who wa?, settled,
as then we should have no more trouble or anxiety aboUt them."

" Perhaps it may be," said Alfred.

" No, sir, that's not likely ; it's one of his young men. I know
the Indian customs well."

It was some time before the alarm occasioned by this event sub-
sided in the mind of Mrs. Campbell and her nieces; Mr. Campbell
also thought much about it, and betrayed occasional anxiety. The
parties went out hunting as befoi'e, but those at home now felt
anxious till their return from the chase. Time, however, and not
hearing anything more of the Indians, gradually revived their
courage, and before the winter was half over they thought little
about it. Indeed, it had been ascertained by Malachi from another
band of Indians which he fell in with near a small lake where they
were trapping beaver, tiiat the Angry Snake was not in that part of
the country, but had gone with his band to the westward at the
conmiencenient of the new year. This satislied them that the enemy
had left immediately after the attempt which he had made to recon-
noitre the premises.

The hunting parties, therefore, as we said, continued as before;
indeed, they were necessary for the supj)ly of so many mouths.
Percival, wlio had grown very much since his residence in Canada,
was very anxious to be permitted to join them, which he never had
been during the former winter. This was very natural. He saw
his younger brother go out almost daily, and seldom return without
having been successful ; indeed, John was, next to Malachi, the best
shot of the party. It was, therefore, very annoying to Percival that
l)e should always be detained at home doing all the drudgery of the
house, such as feeding the pigs, cleaning knives, and other menial
(M53) &

{

i li

t 'i I

162

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

work, while hia younger brother was doing the duty of a man. IV)
Percival's repeated entreaties, objections were constantly raised by
hifl mother: they could not spare him, he was not accustomed to
walk in snow-shoes, Mr. Campbell observed that Percival became
dissatisfied and unhappy, and Alfred took his part and pleaded foi-
him. Alfred observed very truly, that the Strawberry could occa-
sionally do Percival's work, and that if it could be avoided, he
should not be cooped up at home in the way that he was; and, Mi.
Campbell agreeing with Alfred, Mrs. Campbell very reluctantly gave
her consent to hia occasionally going out.

"Why, Aunt, have you such an objection to Percival going out
with the hunters?" said Mary. " It must be very trying to him u,
bo always detained at home."

"1 feel the truth of what you say, my dear Mary," naid Mrs.
Campbell, "and I assure you it is not out of sel'ishness, or becauso
we sliall have more work to do, tliat I wish him to remain with iks;
but I have an instinctive dread that some accident will happen to
him, which I cannot overcome, and there is no arguing wiiii a
mother's fears and a mother's love."

"You were quite as uneasy, my dear Aunt, when John first vu'wi
out; you were continually in alarm about him, but now you are
perfectly at ease," replied Emma.

"Very true," said Mrs. Campbell; "it is, perhaps, a weakness on
my part wbich I ought to get over; but we ai-e all liable to such
feelings. I trust in God there is no real cause for apprehension, and
that my reluctance is a mere weakness and folly. But I see the
poor boy has long pined at being kept at home ; for nothing is moie
irksome to a high-couraged and spirited boy as he is. I have, tliere
fore, given my consent, because T tliiuk it is my duty; still the fei;!-
ing remains, so let us say no more about it, my dear girls, for the
subject is painful to me."

"My dear Aunt, did you not say that you would talk to Straw-
berry on the subject of religion, and try if you could not persuatle
her to become a Christian] She is very serious at prayers, I observt-;
and ap{)ears, now that she understands English, to be t^ery atteutiw^
to what is said."

"Yes, my dear Emma, it is my intention so to do very soon, but I
do not like to be in too great a hurry. A mere conforming to th-^
usages of our religion would be of little avail, and I fear that iw
many of our good missionaries, in their anxiety to make converts, do
not sufficiently consider this point. Religion must proceed from
conviction, and be seated in the heart ; the heart, indeed, must be
changed, not mere outward forma attended to."

" What is the religion of the Indians, my dear Aunt?" said Mary.

' )

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

163

Qaii. To
•aised by
tomed to
1 became
3a(led for
uld occa-
jided, he
and, Mr.
utly gave

^oing out
to him to

r<aid TVhs,
r because
I with Uri ;
lappeii to
,g willi a

first Mifut
V you are

iakuesB on
le to sucli
nsion, and
I Bee the
ig is moie
ive, there-
l the. feel-
Is, fur t!ie

to Straw -
persuade
1 observe;

J atteutiv^*

,0011, but 1
ling to th"
r that t(K)
mverts, do
ceed from
i, must be

said Mary.

**One which makes conversion the more difficult. It is in many
respects so near what is right, that ludiaus do not easily perceive
the necessity of change. They believe in one Cilod, the fountain of
all good ; they believe in a future state and in future rewards and
punishn.ents. You perceive they have the same foundation as we
iiave, altl:ough they know not Clirist, and, having very incomplete
notions of duty, have a very insufficient sense of their manifold
transgi'essions and otfencos in God's sight, and consequently have
no idea of the necessity of a mediator. Now it is, i>erhap8, easier to
convince those who are entirely wrong, sucli ps worship idols and
false gods, than those who approach so nearly to the truth. But I
have had ruany hours of reHection upon the proper course to pursue,
and 1 do intend to have some conversation with her on the subject in
a vei'y short time. 1 have delayed because I consider it absolutely
necessary that she should be jierfectly aware of what I say,, before
I try to alter her belief. Now, the Indian language, although quite
sufficient for Indian wants, is j)oor, and has not the same copiousness
,is ours, because they do not require the word.s to explain what we
term abstract ideas. It is, therefore, impossible to explain the
mysteries of our holy religion to one who does not well understand
our language. I think, however, th<it the Strawberry now begins to
comprehend sufficiently for me to na^e the first attempt. I say first
attempt, because I have no idea of making a convert in a week, or a
month, or even in six months. All I can do is to exert my best
abilities, and then trust to God, who, in His own good time, will
enlighten her mind to receive His truth."

The next day the hunting party wont o\it, and Percival, to his
groat delight, was permitted to accompany it. As they had a long
way to go, for they had selected the hunting ground, they set oflF
early in the morning, before dayliglit, Mr. Campbell having particu-
larly requested that they would not return home late.

CHAPTER XXX.

The party had proceeded many miles before they arrived at the
.^pot where Malachi thought that they would fall in with some veni-
son, which was the principal game that they sought. It was not till
near ten o'clock in the morning that they stood on the ground which
had been selected for the sport. It was an oj)en part of the forest,
and the snow lay in large drifts, but here and there on the hillsides
the grass was nearly bare, and the doer were able, by scraping with

'i:
I ■

: m ■

,MJ

■>)

If '*

Ml fM

164

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

their feet, to obtain Bome food. Tliey were all pretty well cIohp
together when they arrived. Percival and Henry were about a
quarter of a mile behind, for Percival was not used to the huow-
shoes, and did not get on so well as the others. Malachi and tlio
rest with him halted, that He'iry and Percival might como up with
them, and then, after they had recovered their breath a little, lio
said:

"Now, you see there's a fiiM! lot of deer here, Percival, but as you
know nothing about woodcraft, and may put us all out, observe what
I say to you. The animals are not only cute of hearing and seeing,
but they are uore c ,e if smell, and they can scent a m.iu a uiile otF
if t'( > V in 1 M'W,, ; Av . to theai ; so yjii see it would be useless to
attempt to gel i.'«\r '•' them if we do not get to the lee side of them
without nuise >si'<' ivi-b'>ut being seen. Now, the wind has be<Mi
from the eastward, an*; ,.,..• we are to tho southward, we must r,'et
round by the woods to the westward, before we go ujjon the open
ground, and then, Percival, you must do .is we do, and keep behind,
to watch our motions. If we come to a swell in the land, you must
not run up, or even walk up, as you might show yourself; the deer
might be on the other side, within twenty yards of you ; but you
must hide yourself, as you will see that we shall do, and when we
have found them, I will put you in a place whore you shall have yuui
shot as Wv^ll as we. Do you underetand, Percival?"

" Yes, I do, and I shall stop behind, and do as 3'ou tell me."

" Well, then, now we will go back into the thick of the forest till
we get to leeward, and then we shall see whether you will make a
hunter or not."

The whole party did as Malachi directed, and for more than ;iii
hour they walked through the wood, among the thickest of the
trees, that they might not be seen by the animals. At last they
arrived at the spot which Malachi desired, and then they chantrt.'d
their course eastward towards the more open ground, where they
expected to tind the deer.

As they entered upon the open ground, they moved for waul
crouched to the ground, Malaclii and Martin in the advance. When
in the hollows, they all collected together, but on ascending a swell
of the land, it wa^ either Malachi or Martin who tirst crept up, and,
looking over the summit, gave notice to the others to come forward.
This wjis continually repeated for three or four miles, when Martin,
having raised his head just above a swell, made a signal to those who
were below that the deer were in sight. After a moment or +;Wo
reconnoitrinpr, he went down and informed them that there wtre
twelve or thirteen head of deer scraping up the snow about one
hundred yards .:ihe{id qf them upon another swell of the land, but

THE SKTTLER8 IN CANADA.

1G5

that they appeared to be alarmed and anxious, as if tliey had an
idea of danger being near.

Malachithenagaincrawleduptomakehi8observation8,and returned.

" It is sartain," said he, " that they are flurried about something ;
they appe.ir jnst aa it they had been hunted, and yet that is not
likjly. "Wti must wait and let them settle a little, and find out
>vht «her any other parties have been hunting them."

They waited ahovi ten minutes, till the animals appeared more
settleu, and then by altering their position behind the swell, gained
about twenty-live yards of distance. Mahichi told each party which
uii.nai to aim at, and they fired nearly simultaneously. Three of
the beasts fell, two others were wounded, the rest of the herd
bounded otf like the wind. They all rose from behind the swell, and
ran forward to their prey. Alfred had fired at a fine buck which
stood f -art from the rest, and somewhat farther off; it was evident
that tht, animal was badly wounded, and A' ^ J had marked the
thicket into which it had floundered; but th'i othi deer which was
wounded was evidently slightly hurt, and th«.; -^ 'v.^ little chance of
obtaining it, as it bounded away after the . it f the herd. They
all ran up to where the animals lay dead aij a? soon aa they had
reloaded their rifles, Alfred and Martin ent on the track of the
one that was badly wounded. They had i ed their way through
the thicket for some fifty yards, guided by the track of the animal,
when they started back at the loud growl of some beast. Alfred,
who was in advance, perceived that a puma (catamount, or painter,
as it is usually termed), had taken possession of the deei, and was
lying over the carcass. Pie levelled his rifle and fired; the beast,
although badly wounded, immediately sprang at him and seized him
by the shoulder. Alfred was sinking under the animal's weight and
from the pain he was sufiering, when Martin came to his rescue, and
l)i)t hi.s rifle ball through the head of the beast, which fell dead.

"Ave you much hurt, sir?" said Martin.

"No, not much," replied Alfred; "at least I think not, but my
shoulder is badly torn, and I bleed freely."

Malachi and the others nov^ came up, and perceived what had
taken place. Alfred had sunk down and was sitting on the ground
by the side of the dead animals.

"A painter!" exclaimed Maiachi; "well, I didn't think we
should see one so far west. Are you hurt, Alfred]"

" Yes, a little," replied Alfred faintly.

Malachi and Martin, without saying another word, stripped off
Alfred's hunting-coat, and then discovered that he had received a
very bad wound in the shoulder from the teeth of the beast, and that
his side was also torn by the animal's claws.

I ti

166

THE BETTLEKS IN CANADA.

•' .

" John, run for aonje water," said Malachi ; " you are certaiu to
find §ome in the hollow."

John and Percival both hastened in search of water, while Malaolii
and Martin and Henry tore Alfred'H sliirt into strips and bound up
the wounds, so as to stop in a ^'reat measure the flow of blood. Ah
soon as this was done and he had drunk the water brought to him
in John's hat, Alfred felt revived.

"I will sit down a little longer," said he, "and then we will ^ret
home as fast as we can. Martin, look after the game, and when you
are ready I will get up. What a tremendous heavy bruto that was!
I could not have stood against him for a minute longer, and I had
iio hunting-knife."

" It's a terrible beast," replied Malachi. " I don't know that I
ever saw one larger; they are more than a nuitch for one man, ami
never should be attempted single-handed, for they are so hard to
kill."

"Where did my ball hit him?" said Alfred.

"Here, under the shoulder, and well placed toe. It must have
gone quite close to his heart; but unless you hit him through llie
brain or through the heart, they are certain to make their dyiii^'
spring. That's an ugly wound on your shoulder, and will put a 8t(>|i
to your hunting for five or six weeks, I expect However, it's well
that it's no worse."

" I feel quite strong now," replied Alfred.

"Another ten minutes, sir; let John and me whip off his skin,
for we must have it to show, if we have all the venison spoiletl. Mr.
Henry, tell Martin only to take the prime pieces and not to nniid
the hides, for we shall not be able to carry much. And tell him to
be quick, Mr. Henry, for it will not do for Mr. Alfred to remain till
his arm gets stiff. We have many miles to get home again."

In the course of ten minutes Malachi and John had skinned the
puma, and Martin made his appearance with the haunches of two of
the deer, which he said was as much as they well could carry, and
they all set off on their return home.

Alfred had not proceeded far when he found himself in great pain,
the walking upon snow-shoes requiring so much motion as to open
the wounds and make them bleed again; but Malachi gave him
his assistance, and having procured him some more water they cou-
tinued their route.

After a time the wounds became more stiff, and Alfred appeared
to be more oppressed by the pain ; they procee.ied, however, as fast
as they could, and at nightfall were not far from home. But Alfred
movetl with great difficulty; he had become very faint, so much so
that Martin requested John would throw down the venison, and

TUiC SETTLERS IN CANADA.

167

ceitaiu to

e Malaclii

bound up

looil. As

lit to him

7e will ^'et

when you

that was!

uid I had

ow that 1

man, and

10 hard to

muht have
rojigh the
leir dyiiii,'
put a 8t(i|)
ir, it's wi'll

f hia Hkiu,
oiled. Mr.
it to mind
bell him to
remain till
n."

cinned the
a of two of
Ciury, ami

great pain,

as to oj)tMi

gave him

r they cou-

1 appeared
ver, as fM'^t
But Alfred
ao much so
uisou, auti

hasten before tliera to the house to request Mr. Campbell to send some
brandy or other coidial to 8up[K)rt Alfred, who was scarcely able to
move on from weakness and loaa of blood. As they were not more
thui a mile from the house, John was soon there, and liastening in
at the door, he gave his message in presence of Mrs. Campbell and
his cousins, who were in a state of great distress at the intelligence.
Mr. Campbell went to his room for the spirits, and as soon as he
brought it out, Emma seized her bonnet, and said that she would
accompany John.

Mr. and Mrs. Campbell had no time to raise any objection if they
were inclined, for Emma was out of the door in a moment, with
John at her heels. But Emma quite forgot that she had no suow-
slioes. and before she had gone half the distance, she found herself
as nnust fatigued as if she had walked miles; and she sank deeper
and deeper in the snow every minute she advanced. At last they
arrived, and found the party : Alfred was lying insensible on the
snow, and the others making a litter of branches, that they might
carry him to the house.

A little brandy poured down his throat brought Alfred to his
senses ; and as he opened his eyes, he perceived Emma hanging over
him.

" Dear Emma, how kind of you 1" said he, attempting to rise.

" Do not move, Alfred ; they will soon have the litter ready, and
then you will be carried to the house. It is not far olT."

*' r am strong again now, Emma," replied Alfred. " But you
nmst not remain liere in the cold. See, the snow is falling again."

" I must remain now till they are ready to carry you, Alfred, for
I dire not go back by myself."

By this time the litter was prepared, and Alfred placed on it.
Malachi, Henry, Martin, and John took it up.

" Where is Percivall" said Emma.

" He's behind a little way," replied John. "The snow-shoes hurt
him, and he could not walk so fast. He will be here in a minute."

They carried Alfred to the house, where Mr. and Mrs. Campbell
and Alary vveie waiting at the door in great anxiety; poor Emma
was quite knocked up by the time that they arrived, and went into
her (jwn room.

Alfred was laid on his bed, and hia father then examined his
wounds, which he considered very dangerous, from the great lacera-
tion of the flesh. Mr. Campbell dressed them, and then they left
Alfred to the repose which he so much required. The state of
Alfred so occupied their minds and their attention, that nothing and
nobody else was thought of for the first hour. Emma, too, had been
taken very ill very soon after she came in, and required the atten

■

? '

\ ■'

)

"' 1

,;(

f' ■

^i-

1. (

;

M i J

'1* , u

■ 1

.;: i;

^^S

^ -^^

~3'

\ .'. - 1 '1'

■ ■ 1 . \

'k i J «u

s^^

168

TIIK SKTTLEKS IN CANADA.

tioii of Mrs. Cainpliell and Mary. It was not until they woro about
to ait down to supper that Mr. Cauipbell said:

"Why, where'a Percival?"

"Porcival ! Is he not here?" was the question anxiously utteroti
by all the party who had been huntint,',

"Percival not here!" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell, starting up.
"Where — where is my child?"

"He was juat behind us," said John; "he sat down to alter his
snow-shoes : the ties hurt him."

Malachi and Martin ran out of doors in consternation ; they knew
the danger, for tlie .snow was now falling in such heavy flakes thut
it was impossible to see or direct their steps two yards in any direc-
tion.

"The boy will be lost for sartain/'said Malachi to Martin ; "if he
has remained behind till this fail of snow, he never will find his way,
but wander about till he perishes."

"Yes," said Martin, "he has but a poor chance, that is the truth;
I would have given my right arm this had not happened."

"Misfortune never conies single," replied Malachi; "what can we
do? Madam Campbell will be beside herself, for she loves that buy
beyond all measure."

"It's useless our going out," observed Martin; "we should never
find him, and only lose ourselves; but still we had better go back,
and say that we will try. At all events we can go to the edge of
the forest, and halloo every minute or so ; if the boy is still on his
legs, it will guide him to us."

" Yes," replied Malachi, "and we may light a pine torch ; it might
be of some use. Well, then, let's go in and tell them that we aie
going in search of the boy; as long as Madam knows that we are
seeking him, she will !iot lose hope, and hope will keep up her spirits
for the time, till she is better prepared for her loss."

There was much good sense and knowledge of the human heart iu
the observation of Malachi, who, although he was aware that all
search would be useless, could not resolve to destroy at once all hope
in the mind of the afBicted and anxious mother.

They went in, and found Mrs. Campbell weeping bitterly, sup-
ported by her husband and Mary. They stated that they were going
to search for the boy, and bring him home if they could, and, taking
three or four pine torches, one of which they lighted, they set off for
the edge of the forest, where they remained for two hours with the
light, shouting at intervals ; but the snow fell so fast, and the cold
was so intense, for the wind blew fresh from the northward, that
they could remain no longer. They did not, however, return to the
house, but weut to their own lof'ge to recover themselves, and

TUB 8KTTI.BRS IN CANADA.

16»

were alwut

aly uttered

tarting nj,.

to alter his

they knew

flakes that

any direc-

•tin; **if lie
dU his way,

I the truth ;

hat can we
es that hoy

lould never

;er go back,

the edge of

still on his

1 ; it might
;liat we aie
hat we are
► her spirits

an heart in
re that ;ill
ice all hope

terly, Rnp-
were goiii^'
lud, takiii<>
' set olFfor
8 with the
id the cold
ward, that
mm to the
elves, and

remained there till daylight. They then went out again ; the snow-
storui had ceased, and the morning was clear and bright ; they went
buck into the forest (on the road by which they had come home) for
three or four miles, but the snow now fallen had covered all the
t racks which they had made the day before, and was in many places
several feet deep. They proceeded to where Percival was last seen
by John, who liad described the spot very exactly; they looked
everywhere about, made circuits round and round, in hopes of per-
ceiving the muzzle of his rifle pepping out above the snow, but there
was nothing to be discovered, and after a search of four or five hours
they returned to the house. They found Mr. Campbell and Henry
in tlu; kitchen, for Mrs. Campbell was in such a state of anxiety and
distress that she was in her room attended by Mary. Mr. Campbell
perceived by their countenances that they brought no satisfactory
tidings. Malachi shook his head mournfully, and sat down.

"Do you think that my poor boy is lost, Malachi?" said Mr.
Campbell.

"He is, I fear, sir; he must have sat down to rest himself, and
has been overpowered and fallen asleep. He has been buried in the
snow, and he will not wake till the day of resurrection."

Mr. Campbell covered his face with his hands, and after a time
exclaimed, "His poor mother!"

After a few minutes he rose and went into Mrs. Campbell's room.

"What of my child — my dear, dear Percival]" exclaimed Mrs.
Campbell.

" The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away," replied Mr.
Campbell; "your child is happy."

Mrs. Campbell wept bitterly; and having thus given vent to the
ft'elinga of nature, she became gradually more calm and resigned;
her habitually devout spirit sought and found relief in the Cod of
all comfort.

CHAPTEK XXXL

"Wkus in one short day was the family of Mr. Campbell changed
from a house of joy to one of mourning. And true was the remark
of Matachi, that misfortunes seldom come single, for now they had
another cause of anxiety. Emma, by her imprudent ejrpo.mre to the
intense chill of the night air and the wetting of Vier feet; was first
taken with a violent cold, which was followed by a fever, ', -lich
became more alarming every day. Thus, in addition to the Utrf of
one of their children, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell wyre thr**atent.'d with

i:!

li-

THE 8*BTTLBRS IN CANADA.

beiug deprived of two more; for their nieces were regarded as siicli,
and Alfred was in a very precarious state. The wounds had assimied
such an angry appearance that Mr. Campbell was fearful of mortiti.
cation. This accumulated distress had, however, one good eflFect
upon them. The danger of losing Emma and Alfred so occupied
their minds and their attention, that they had not time to bewail the
loss of Percival; and even Mrs. Campbell, in her prayers, was t labled
to resign herself to the Almighty's will in taking away her child, if
It would but please Him to spare the two others who were atilicted.
Long and tedious were the hours, the days, and the weeks that passstd
away before either of them could be considered in a state of convalt s-
cence ; but her prayers were heard, and, as the winter closed, their
recovery was no longer doubtful. A melancholy winter it had beeii
to them all, but the joy of once more seeing Kmma resume her duties
and Alfred, supported on cushions, able to be moved into the sitting
room, had a very exhilarating effect upon their spirits. True, tliciu
was no longer the mirth and merriment that once reignod, but there
was a subdued gratitude to Ueaven, wliich, if it did not make them
at once cheerful, at leant prevented anything like r<^pining or com-
plaint. Grateful for the mercies vouchsafed to them in having
Alfred and Emma sjmred to them, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell consoled
themselves in reference to Percival with the reflection that at so
early an age, before he had lived to be corrupted by the world, to
die was gain—and that their dear boy had become, through Divine
grace, an inl-abitant of the kingdom of Heaven, By degrees the
family became again cheerful and happy ; the merry laugh of Enuna
once more enlivened them, Alfred again recovered his former health
and spirits, and Mrs. Campbell couUl bear the mention of the name
of Percival, and join in the praises of the amiable child.

The spring now came on, the snow gradually disappeared, the ice
was carried down the rapids, and once more left the blue lake clear;
the cattle were turned out to feed off the grass the year before left
on the prairie, and all the men were busy in preparing to put in the
seed. As soon as the snow was gone, Malachi, Martin, and Alfred,
vvithout saying a word to Mrs. Campbell, had gone into the forest,
and made every search for the body of poor Percival, but withotu
auccess, and it was considered that he had wandered and died on
some spot which they could not discover, or that the wolves had dug
his remains out of the snow, and devoured them. Not a trace of iiiin
could anywhere be discovered ; and the search was, after a few days,
discontinued. The return of the 8i)ring had another good etVeot
upon the spirits of the party ; for, with the spring came on such a
variety of work to be done, that they had not a moment to spare.
They hati now ho many acres for corn that they had scarcely lime to

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

171

ded as such,
lad asaunied
1 of mortifi-
good effect
so occuj)ie(l
bewail tlic
wast labled
'ler child, if
Jre ataicted.
that jm-sHt'ii
of conval( s-
Jlosed, their
it had [)w\i
ber duties
the sittiii;^r-
True, there
1, but there
make thtni
iig or colli-
in having
?I1 consoled
that at su
3 world, to
igh Divine
legrees the
1 of Emma
iner health
■ the name

ed, the ice
lake clear;
before left
put in the
id Alfred,
^he forest,
t without
i died on
i had (lug
Lce of iiim
few dajs,
>od effect
>u such ri
to spare,
y time to

get through all the preparatory work, and fortunate it was that
Alfred waH so much recovered that he could join in the labour.
Malachi, John, and even Mr. Campbell assisted, and at last the task
was completed. Then they had a communication with the fort, and
letters from Quebec, Montreal, and England : there were none of any
importance from England, but one from Montreal informed Mr.
Campbell that, agreeably to contract, the engineer would arrive iu
the course of the month with the hatemix containing the machinery,
and that the water-mill would be erected as soon as possible. There
wjis also a letter from England, which gave them great pleasure ; it
was from Captain Sinclair to Alfred, informing him that he had
arranged all his business with his guardian, and that he should
rejoin his regiment and be at the fort early in the spring, as he
should sail in the first vessel which left England. He stated how
delighted he should be at his return, and told him to say to Emma
that he had not found an English wife, as she had prophesied, but
was coming back as heart-whole as he went. Very soon afterwards
they had a visit from Colonel Forster and some of the oflScers of the
garrison. The Colonel offered Mr. Campbell a party of soldiers to
aasist in raising the mill, and the offer was thankfully accepted.

" We were very much alarmed about you last autumn, when the
woods were on fire, Mr. Campbell," said the Colonel ; "but I perceive
that it has been of great advantage to you. You have now a large
quantity of cleared land sown with seed, and if you had possessed
sufficient means, might have had much more put in, as I perceive all
the laud to the north-west is cleared by the fire."

"Yes," replied Mr. Campbell; "but my allotment, as you know,
extends along the beach, and we have sown the seed as far from the
beac^h as the property extends."

" Then I should recommend yoa to write to Quebec, and a])ply for
another grant on each side of the stream; indeed, at the back of and
e«|ual to what you now have."

*' But if I do, I have not the means of working the land."

" No, not with your present force, I grant ; but there are many
emigrants who would be glad of work, and who would settle here
upon favourable conditions."

" The expense would be very great," said Mr. Campbell.

" It would; but the return would indemnify you. The troops at
the fort would take all the fiour oiF your haudn, if you had ever so
raucli."

"I am not incline<l at present to speculate much fu^'her," replied
Mr. Campbell, " but I shall see how this year turns jut, and if J iind
that I am successful, 1 will then decide."

"C)f course you nill l.ut act prudently. You can send down to

A-^ry/-

t\ 1

mii

^^;,f;

|l;

l^'l'

5.1 li'

■1 ' '''

1 1

, 1 i

«t> ''

i;r

:'!

172

THK SETTLERS IN CANADA.

your agent at Quebec, aud ascertain what would be the probable
terms of the meu you might require. But there is another way,
which is to give them the land to cultivate, and the seed, and to re-
ceive from them a certain portion of corn in return, as rent ; that is
very safe, and your land will be all gradually brought into cultiva-
tion, besides the advantage of having neighbours about you. You
might send one of your sons down to Montreal, and arrange all that."

" I certainly will write to my agent and institute inquiries," re-
plied Mr. Campbell, " and many thauks to you for the suggestion; I
have still a few hundreds at the bank to dispose of, if necessary."

About three weeks after this conversation, the bateaux arrived
with the engineer and machinery for the flour and saw mills : and now
the settlement again presented a lively scene, being thronged with
the soldiers who were sent from the fort. The engineer was a very
pleasant, intelligent young Englishman, who had taken up his pnj-
fession in Canada, and w<is considered one of the most able in the
colony. Tie site of tho mill was soon chosen, and now the axes again
resounded \ n the woods, as the trees were felled and squared under
his directiois. Alfred was constantly with the engineer, super-
intending the labour of the men, and contracted a great intimacy
with him ; indeed, that gentleman was soon on such a footing with
the whole family as to be considered almost as one of them, for lie
was very amusing, very well bred, and had evidently received every
advantage of education. Mr. Campbell found that Mr. Emmersuii,
for such was his name, could give him every particular relative to
the emigrants who had come out, as he was so constantly travelling
about the country, and was in such constant communication with
them.

" You are very fortunate in your purchase." said he to Mr. Camp-
bell; "the land is excellent, and you have a good water-power in the
stream, as well as convenient carriage by the lake. Fifty years hence
this property will be worth a large sun» of money."

" I want very much to get some more emigrants to settle here,"
observed Mr. Cami)bell. " Tt would add to our security and comfort ;
and I have not suflicient hands to cultivate the land which has been
cleared by the rire of last autumn. If not cultivated in a short time,
it will be all forest again."

" At present it is all raspberries, and very good oiies too, are they
not, Mr. Emmerson?" said Emma.

" Yes, Miss, most excellent,'" replied he ; "but you are aware that,
whenever you cut dov/n trees: here, and do not hoe the ground to sow
it, raspberry bushes grow up immediately."

•' Indeed ! I was not aware of it."

"Such is the ease, nevertheless. After the raspberries, the seed

THR SETTLERS IN CANADA.

173

ling hardwood trees spring up, an J, as Mr. Campbell says, they soon
grow into a forest again.

" I do not think that you would have much trouble in getting
emigrants to come here, Mr. Campbell, but the difficulty will be in
persuading them to remain. Their object in coming out to this
country is to obtain land of their own, and become independent.
Many of them have not the means to go on, and, as a temporary
resource, are compelled to act as labourers; but the moment that
tliey get sufficient to purchase for themselves, they will leave you."

" That is very natural ; but I have been thinking of obtaining a
larger grant than I have now, and I wish very much that I could
make an arrangement with some emigrants. The Colonel says that
I might do so by supplying them with seed, and taking corn in
return as rent."

"That would not be a permanent arrangement," replied Mr.
Emraeraon. " How much land do you propose applying for?"

" Six hundred acres."

" vV'ell, I think it would meet the views of both parties if you
wore to offer terms like the following — that is, divide the land into
lots of one hundred acres each, and allow them to cultivate for you
the fifty acres that adjoin your own land, with the right of purchjia-
iiig the other fifty as their own property, as soon as they can. You
will then obtain three hundred acres of the most valuable land, in
addition to your present farm, and have fixed neighbours around
you, even after they are enabled to purchase the other fifty."

" I think that a very good arrangement, Mr. Emmerson, and I
would gladly consent to it."

"Well, I shall have plenty of opportunities this summer of making
the proposal to the emigrants, and if I find any parties who seem
likely to prove advantageous as neighbours I will let you know."

" And with such expectations '\ will apply for the additional
giant," said Mr. (.'ampbell, " for to have neighbours in this solitude,
1 wouKI almost make them a ]»reaent of the land."

" I suspect that in a few yeais you will have neighbours enough,
without resorting to such an expedient," replied Mr. Emmerson;
"but according to your present proposal, they may be better se-
lected, and y<ju may make terms which will prevent any nuisances."

The works at tlie mill proceeded rapidly, and before the hay
harvest the mill was complete. Alfred was very aireful, and paid
every attention to what was going on, and so did Martin, that they
might understand the machinery. Tiiis was very simple. Mr. Em-
merson tried the mill, and found it to answer well. He explained
evei-vthing to Alfred, and put the mill to work, that he might be
fully master of it. As it was a fortnight after the mill was at work

1 '

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

' 1'

before Mr. ^inmeruon could obtain a passage back to Montieal,
Alfred and Martiu worked both mills during that time, and folt
satisfied that they required no further instruction. The soldiers, at
the request of Mr. Campbell, were allowed to remain till the hay
harvest, and as soon iis the hay was gathered in, they were paid and
returned to the fort.

Captain Sinclair, who, from his letter, had been expected to arrive
much sooner, came just as the soldiers had left the farm. It iietil
hardly be said that he was received most warmly. He hail a greiit
deal to tell them, and had brought out a great many presents ; tho.su
for little Percival he kept back, of course. Emma and Mary were
delighted to have him again as a companion, and to resume their
walks with him; a fortnight thus pasdeJ away very quickly, when
his leave of abaonce expired, and he was obliged to return t3 the
fort. Previdus, liowever, to his going away he requested a private
interview with Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, in which he stated his exact
position and his meanw, and re(iueHted their sanction to his jtiiyinj,'
his addresses to Mary. Mr. and Mre. Campbell, who h.ad already
perceived the attentions he had shown to her, did not hesitate to
express their satisfaction at his request, and their best -.vishes for his
success; and having so done, they left him to forward his own suit,
which Captain Sinclair did not fail to do that very evening. Mary
Percival was too amiable and right-minded a girl not at once to
refuse or accept Captain Sinclair. As she had long been attach i-d
to him, she did not deny that such was the case, and Captam Sinclair
was overjoyed at his success.

"I have spoken frankly to you, Captain Sinclair," said Mary; " I
have not denied that you have an interest in my affectiouH; but T
must now request you to let me know what are your future views."

" To do just what you wish me to do."

" i have no right to advise, and no wish to persuade. I have my
own path of duty pointed out to me, and from that I cannot swerve. '

"And what is that?"

"It is that, under present circuuur^tances, 1 must nut think of
leaving my uncle and aunt. 1 have been bred uj) and e<lucated by
them ; I have as an orphan shared their prosperity ; 1 have a deej)
debt of gratitude to pay, and I cannot consent to return to Englaml
to enjoy all thje advantages which your means will afford, while
they remain in their present isolated position. Iltieafter circuni
fe^Rhces may alter my opinion, but such ft is at present."

"But if I am willing to remain with you here to share your for-
tiv>f.s, 'vill not that satisfy you?"

" Nn, re»-taiuly not ; for that would be allowing you to do injustice
tt> youvie'ii. T presume you do not mean to quit your profesnion?"

I ^-i:

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

r76

"T ha«l no Hueh intention; but still, if I have to clioose between
you and the service, I shall not hesitate."

" I trust you will not hesitate, but determine to adhere steadily to
youi profession for the present, Captain Sinclair. It will not do for
you to give up your prospects and chance of advancement for even
Hiich a woman as me," continued Mary, smiling; "nor must you
think of becoming a backwoodsman for a pale-faced girl."

'• Then what am I to do if, as you say, you will not leave your
uncle and aunt]"

*' Wait, C-aptain Sinclair; be satisfied that you have my affection!*,
and wait patiently till circumstances may occur which will enable
me to reward your affection without being guilty of ingratitude
towards those to whom I owe so much. On such terms I accei)t
yon, and accept you willingly ; but you must do your iuty to your-
self, while I must discharge my duty towards my uncle and aunt."

" I believe you are right, Mary," re])lied Captain Sinclair; only I
do not see any defiinite hope of our being united. Can you give me
any prospect to cheer me^"

" We are both very yonng, Captain Sinclair," observed Mary; "in
a year or two, my uncle and aunt may be less lonely and more com-
fortable than at pret^ent. In a year or two the war may end, and
you may bononrably r<;tire upon half-pay; in fact, so many chances
are there which are hidden from us and come upon us sc unex-
pectedly, that it is impossible to say what may take place. And if,
after waiting patiently for some time, none of these chances do turn
up, you have yet another in your favour."

'' And what is that, Mary?"

"That, perhaps, I may be tired of waiting niyself," replied Maty,
with a smile.

" Upon that chance, then, I will live in hope," replied Captain
Sinclair; "if you will only reward me when ' u consider that my
faithful service demands it, I will serve as ;,' as Jacob did f<»v
Kachel."

" Do BO, and you shall not be deceived at ti . end of your services,
as be was," replied Mary ; " but now let us i urn to the house."

Captain Sinclair departed the day afterw. is,^ quite satisfied with
Mary's resolution.

CHAPTER XXX II.

A.8 Henry had predicted, during the autumn the whole family were
fully eniploycd. The stock had increased \'< ry much ; they had a
large number of young calves and heifers, and the sheep had lambeU

176

TFR 8ETTLKR8 IN CANADA.

[!*'.'

' -J^t' i

»f.:'

down very favourably. Many of the stock were now turned into the
bush, to save the feed on the prairies. The sheep with their lambs,
the cows which were in milk, and the young calves only were retained.
This gave them more leisure to attend to the corn harvest, which wa.s
now ready, and it required all their united exertions from daylight to
sunset to get it in, for they had a very large quantity of ground to
clear. It was, however, got in very successfully, and all stacked in
good order. Then came the thrashing of the wheat, which gave them
ample employment; and as soon as it could be thrashed out, i^. was
taken to the mill in the waggon, and ground down, for Mr. Campbell
had engaged to supply a certain quantity of flour to the fort befoie
the winter set in. They occasionally received a visit from Captain
Sinclair and the Colonel, and son^e other otKcers, for now they hail
gradually become intimate with many of them. Captain Sinclair
had confided to the Colonel his engagement to Mary Percival, and in
consequence the Colonel allowed him to visit at the farm aa often as
he could consistently with his duty. The other officers wlio came to
see them, perceiving how much Captain Sinclair engrossed the com
pany of Mary Percival, were very assiduous in their attentions to
En)nia, who langhed with and at thtm, and generally coutri' ','d to
give them something to do for her during their visit, as well .as to
render their attentions serviceable to the household. On condition
that Emma accompaJiied them, they were content to go into the punt
and tish for hours; and indeed, all the lake-fish which were caught
this yepr were taken by the officers. There were several very
pleasant young men among them, and they were always well received,
as they added very much to the society at the farm.

Before the winter set in the flour was all ready, and sent to the
fort, as were tlie cattle which the Colonel requested, and it was very
evident thht the Colonel was light when he said that the arrau-,'f-
ment would be advanlageoua to both f>arties. Mr. Campbell, instead
of drawing money to pay, this year for the first time received a bill
on the go''ernment to a considerable an»ount f«>r the flour and cattle
furnishetl to the troops; and Mrs. Canij)beirs account for fowls,
pork, &c., fnrnish'id to the garrison, was by no means to be lespised.
Thus, by the kindness of others, his own exertions, and a judieion.-*
employment of his small capital, Mr. Campbell promised to be in a
few years a wealthy ami independent man. As soon as the hai vest
was in, Malachi and John, who were of no use in thrashing out the
corn, reneweil their hunting expeditions, and seldom returned with-
out venison. The Indians had not been seen by Malachi during iiis
excursions, nor any trace of their having been in the neigiibourhood ;
all alarm, therefore, on that account was now over, and the family
prepared to meet the coming winter with all the additional precau-

}

rilE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

177

; "f

tiona which the forcgoiiip; had jkI vised them of. But during the
Indiau summer they received letters from EnglHiui, detailing, as
usual, the news relative to friends with whom they had been in-
timate; also one from Quebec, informing Mr. Campbell that hia
application for the extra grant of land was consented to; and another
from Montreal, from Mr. Emmeiaon, stating that he had otlered
terms to two families of settlers who bore very good characters, and
if they were accepted by Mr. Campbell, the parties would join them
at the commencement of the ensuing spring.

This was highly gratifying to Mr. ( -ampbell, and as the terras were,
with a slight variation, such as he had proposed, he immediately
wrote to Mr. Enimerson, agreeing to the terms, and requesting that
the bargain might be concluded. At the same time that the Colonel
forwarded the above letters, he wrote to Mr. Campbell to say that
the interior of the fort required a large quantity of plank for repairs,
that he was authorized to take them from Mr. Campbell, at a certain
price, if he could atford to supply them on those terms, and have
them ready by the following spring. This w;is another act of kiud-
noKS on the part of the Colonel, as it would now give employment to
the saw-mill for the winter, and it was during the winter, and at the
time tliat the snow was on the ground, that tb.ey could easily drag
the timber after it was felled to the sav v.\ill. Mr. Campbell wrote
an answer, thanking the Colonel for ht <!'?>% which he accepted, and
promised to have the planks ready by the time the lake was again open.

At last the winter set in, with its usual fall of snow. Captain
Sinclair took his leave for a long time, much to the sorrow of all the
family, who were warmly attached to him. It was now arranged
that the only parties wlio were to go on the hunting excursions
should be Malachi and John, as Henry Iwad ample employment in the
barns; and Martin and Alfred, in felling timber, and dragging up
the stems to the saw-mill, would, with attending to the mill as well,
have their whole time taken up. Such were the arrangements out of
doors, and now that they had lost the seivices of poor Percival, and
the tiuties to attend to indoors were so much increased, Mrs. Camp-
bell and the girls were obliged lo call in the assistance of Mr. Camp-
bell whenever lie could be spared from the garden, which was his
usual occupation. Thus glided on the third winter in quiet and
security, but in full employment, and with so much to do and attend
to that it passed very rapidly.

It was in the month of February, when the snow was very heavy
on the ground, that one day Malachi went u[) to the mill to Alfred,
whom he found alone attending the saws, which were in full activity;
for Martin was squaring out the timber ready to be sawed at about
one hundred yanls' distance.

li"l

-■f

i 1 I

jj t

jv-

if
t \

I -

178

THK SBTTLBR8 IN CANADA.

" 1 am glad to find you alone," said Malachi, " for I have something
of iatportance to tell you of, and I do not like at present that any-
body else should know anything about it."

" What is it, Malachil" inquired Alfred.

" Why, when I was out hunting yesterday, I went round to a spot
where I had left a couple of deer-hi<le8 last week, that 1 might brin^^
them home, and I found a letter stuck to them with a couple of thorns."

"A letter, Malachi?"

*' Yes, an Indian letter. Here it is." Malachi then produced ;i
piece of birch bark, of which the underneath drawing is a fac-siniili'.

"Well," said Alfred, "it may be a letter, but I confess it is rJ.l
Greek to me. I certainly do not see why you wish to keep it a
secret. Tell me."

" Well, I could not read one of your letters half so well as I can
this; and it contains news of the greatest importance. It's the
Indian way of writing, and I know also whom it comes from. .A
good action is never lost, tliey say, and J am glad to find that theic
is some gratitude in an Indian."

"You make me very impatient, Malachi, to know what it means;
tell me from whom do you think the letter comes?"

" Why, do you see this mark here?" said Malachi, pointing to the
one lowest down on the piece of bark.

"iS-taj-..

THE SKTTLEHS IN CANADA.

17ft

'' Yf-Mi it i.1 a f(»ot, is it not I"

" Kxactly, air; now, <io you know whom it comes fronj I"

" I can't Bay 1 do."

•' Do you remember two winters hack our pickin^^' m[» the Indian
woman, and carrying her to tlie hou«e, and your father curinj^ her
sprained ankle?"

"Certainly; is it from her?"

"Yes; and you recollect bIio said that she belonged to tlie Ijand
which followed the Angry Snake."

" 1 remember it very well; but now, ^' dachi, read me the letter
at once, for I am very impatient to know what she can have to say."

"I will, Alfred; now, there is the aun nutrc than half up, which
with them points out it ia the setting and not the riaing aun ; the
setting sun therefore means to* i westward."

" Very good, that is plain, ^ ■ link."

"There are twelve wigwania, that ia, twelve daya' journey for a
warrior, which the Indians reckon at ahout tifteeu miles a day.
tluw much does fifteen times twelve make?"

" One hundred and eighty, Malachi."

"Well then, that is to say that it is one hundred and eighty miles
otF, or thereabouts. Now, this first figure is a chief, for it has an
eagle's feather on the head of it, and the snake before it is his totem,
' t)ie Angry Snake', and the other six are the number of the band ;
and you observe, that the chief and (he first figure of the six have a
gu?i ill their hands, which ia to inform us that they have only two
rifles amoi:g them."

" Very true ; but what is that little figure following the chief with
his arms behind him?"

"There is the whole mystery t)f the letter, without which it were
wortli nothing. You })erceive that the little figure has a pair of snow-
shoes over it."

" Yes, 1 do."

"Well, that little figure is your brother Percival, whom we sup-
posed to l)e dead."

'' Merciful heavens ! is it possible?" exclaimed Alfred. "Then he
is alive r'

" There is no doubt of it," replied Malachi ; " and now I will put
the whole letter together. Your brother Percival has been carried
off by the Angry Snake and his band, and has been taken to some
place one hundred and eighty miles to the westward, and this inform-
ation comes from the Indian woman who belongs to the band, and
whose life was preserved by your kindness. I don't think, Alfred,
that any white person could have written a letter more plain and
more to the purpose."

t!:

1 ,

180

THE SKTTI.KRS IN lANADA.

'{■.\ '!

" 1 .'ignc with vou, Malarhi ; but tlie news linH so overpowered
lue, 1 am mo a^ntuted with joy and anxiety of mind, that I hardly
know what I say. Percival alive ! we'll have him, if we have to go
one thousand miles and beat two thousand Indians. Oh, how happy
it will make my motliur ! But what are wo tu do, Malachi ? tell lue,
1 beseech you."

" We must do nothing," replied Malachi.

"Nothing, Malachi <" replied Alfred with surprise.

" No ; nothing at present, tat all events. We have the information
that the boy is alive, at least it is presumed so ; but, of course, tin-
Indians do not know that we have received such information ; if they
did, the woman wouUl be killed immediately. Now, the first question
we muHt ask ourselves is, why they have carried ott' the boy ; for it
would be no use ciirrying oti" a little boy in that manner without some
object."

" It is the very (juestion that I was going to put to you, Malachi."

" Then I'll answer it to the best of my knowledge and belief. It is
this : the Angry Snake came to the settlement, and saw our stores of
]»owder and shot, and everything else. lie wouUi have attacked us
last winter if he had found an opportunity and a chance of success.
One of his band was killed, which taught him that we were on the
watch, and he failed in that attempt: he managed, however, to pick
up the boy when he was lagging behind us, at the time that you were
wounded by the painter, and carried him oil', and he intends to drive
a bargain for his being restore*! to us. That is my conviction."

" t have no doubt but that you are right, Malachi," said Alfred,
after a pause, " Well, we must make a virtue of necessity, and give
him what he asks."

" Not so ; if we did, it would encourage him to steal again."

" What must we do then ?"

" Punish him, if we cjin ; at all events, we must wait at present,
and do nothing. Depend upon it we shall have some communication
made to us through him that the boy is in their possession, and will
be restored upon certain conditions— probably this spring. It will
then be time to consider what is to be done."

" I believe you are right, Malachi."

"I hope to circumvent him yet," replied Malachi; " but we shall see."

"Well; but, Malachi, are we to let this be known to anybody, or
keep it a secret?"

"Well, I've thought of that; we must only let Martin and the
Strawberry into the secret ; and I would tell them, because they are
almost Indians, as it were; they may have someone coming to them,
and there's no fear of their telling, Martin knows better, and .w
for the Strawberry, she is as safe as if she didn't know it."

*-..

TIIK SKTTI.RRH IN CASAUA.

181

" ( belier«:» you are right; .'iml ntill what <Uiliglit it wouhl ^jive u\y
father and mother!"

" Ye«, and all the family too, I have no donbt, for the lirst hour or
two after yon have tohi them ; hiit what pain it woukl «,'ive them for
iiiunths afterwards. * llo|)t' defern-d maUeth the heart sick', as my
father used to roail out of the P.ible, and that's the truth. Only
consider how your father, and particularly your mother, would fret
•AvA pine during the whole time, and what a state of anxiety they
would be in; they woidd not eat or sleep. No, no; it would be a
cruelty to tell them, and it nnist not be. Nothing can be done till
the spring, at all events, and we Uiust wait till the messenger comes

to UH."

" You are right, Malachi ; then do as you say, make the communi-
cation to Martin and his wife and I will keep the secret as faith-
fully as they will."

"It's a great point our knowing whereabouts the boy is," observed
Malachi ; " for if it is necessary to make a party to go for him, we
know what direction to go iu. And it is also a great point to know
the strength of the enemy, as now we shall know what force we
must take with us in case it is necessary to recover the lad by force
or stratagem. All this we gained from the letter, and shall not
Itarn from any messenger sent to us by the Angry Snake, whose
head 1 hope to bruise before I've done with him."

*' If I meet him, one of us shall fall," observed Alfred.

" No doubt," leplied Malachi, *' but if we can retake the boy by
other means, sso much the better. A man, bad or good, luus but one
life, and God gave it to him. It is not for his fellow-creature to
take it away unless from necessity. I hope to have the boy without
shedding of blood."

" I am willing to have him back upon any terms, Malachi; and,
as you say, if we can do it without shedding of blood, all the better;
hilt have him T will, if I have to kill a hundred Indians."

"That's right; only let it be the last resort; recollect that the
Indian seeks the powder and ball, not the life of the boy; and
itcollect that if we had not been so careless as to tempt him with
the sight of what he values so much, he never would have annoyed
m thus."

" That is true ; well then, Malachi, it shall be .'is you propose iu
everything."

The conversation was here finished. Alfred and all those who
were possessed of the secret never allowed the slightest hint to drop
of their knowledge. The winter passed away without interruption
of any kind. Before the snow had (lisapi)eared the seed was all
piepared ready for sowing; the planks hatl been sawed out, and all

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

£^r

1.0 [fi- IIM

I.I

^ 1^ 12.2

!r 1^ 12.0

1.8

11.25 il.4 ii.6

oS. ^ ;>

^"^'k^

///.

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

182

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

the v/lieat not required for seed had beeu ground down and put into
flour-barrels, ready for any further lieraand from the fort.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

II:

■v

:^n' 1

: V

•hi

t'i:

It was now April, and for some days Malachi and John had been
very busy, assisted by the Strawberry ; for the time had come for
tapping the maple-trees, to make the maple-sugar, and Mrs. Camp-
bell had expressed a wish that she could be so supplied with an
article of such general consumption, and which they could not
obtain but by the bateaux which went to Montreal. In the evening,
when Malachi and John were as usual employed in cutting small
tr:iys out of the soft wood of the balsam-fir, and of which they luid
alreafly prepared a large quantity, Mrs. Campbell asked Malachi
how the sugar was procured.

" Very easily, Ma'am ; we tap the trees."

"Yes, so you said before; but how do you do it? Explain the
whole affair to me."

"Why, Ma'am, we pick out the maple-trees which are about a foot
wide at the bottom of the trunk, as they yield most sugar. We
then bore a hole in the trunk of the tree, about two feet above the
ground, and into that hole we put a hollow reed, just the same asi
you would put a spigot in a cask. The liquor runs out into one of
these trays that we have been digging out."

"Well, and then what do you do?"

" We collect all the liquor every morning till we have enough to
fill the coppers, and then we boil it down."

"What coppers will you use, theni"

" There are two large coppers in the storeroom, not yet put up,
which will answer our purpose very well. They hold about a hogs-
head each. We shall take them into the woods with us, and pour
the liquor into them, and boil them down as soon as they are ready.
You must come and see us on the boiling-day, and we can have a
frolic in the woods."

" With all my heart," replied Mrs. Campbell. " IIow much liquor
do you get from one tree?"

"A matter of two or three gallons," replied Malachi; "sometiuips!
more and sometimes less. After we have tapped the trees and set
our trays, we shall have notliing more to do for a fortnight. The
Strawberry can attend to them all, and will let us know when she is
ready."

THB SSTTLBRS IN CANADA.

183

nd put into

n had K-eii

id CDlilC foi'

Mra. Cain])-
ed with an
could hot
le evening,
ttii)g sni;il)
ih they had
d Mahiolii

Explain the

ibout a foot
m^ar. We
t above tlie
lie same ,'h
into oue of

s euouglj to

'et put up,
)ut a hogs-
, and {)onr
are ready.
;an have a

uch liqtior

sometinioa
es and mi
ght. The
hen she in

" Do you tap the trees every year?"

" Yes ; and a good tree will bear it for fifteen or twenty years ;
but it kills them at last."

" So I should suppose, for you take away so much of the sap of
the tree."

"Exactly; but there's no want of sugar-maples in these woods."

"You promised us some honey, Malachi," said Emma, "but we
have not seen it yet. Can you get us some?"

"We had no time to get it last autumn; but we will try this
autumn what we can do. When John and I are out in the woods
we shall very probably find a honey-tree, without going very far. I
did intend to have looked out for some, if you had not mentioned
it."

" I know one," said Martin ; " I marked it a fortnight ago, but I
quite forgot all about it. Since the mill has been in hand I have
had little time for anything else. The fact is, we have all plenty to
do just now."

" That we certainly have," replied Henry, laughing ; " I wish I
could see the end of my work in the barn ; I doubt if I shall be able
to get out with my rifle this winter."

" No, you must leave the woods to John and me," replied Malachi.
" Never mind, you sha'n't want for venison. Do you require the
sledge to-morrow, Alfred?"

Malachi referred to a small sledge which they had made in the
winter, and which was now very useful, as they could, with one
horse, transport things from place to place. It was used by Alfred
for bringing down to the storehouse the sacks of flour as fast as they
were ground in the mill.

" I can do without it for a day. What do you want it for?"

" To bring all the honey home," said Enmia, laughing.

" No, Miss, to take the coppers out into the woods," replied Malachi,
" that they may be ready for the liquor. As soon as we have tapped
the trees, we will look for the honey."

"Did you send your skins down to Montreal by the hateauxV
inquired Mr. Campbell.

" Yes, Father," replied Alfred; "Mr. Enimerson took charge of
them, and promised to deliver them to the agent; but we have not
so many this year as we had last. John has the largest package of
all of us."

" Yes, he beats me this year," said Malachi ; " he always contrives
to get the first shot. I knew that I should make a hunter of the
boy. He might go out by himself now, and do just as well as I do."

The next morning, Malachi went out into the woods, taking with
him the coppers and all the trays on the sledge : during that day he

'i I

1S4

THE SETTLEUS IN CANADA.

■« . %i

:iiFlPi

was busy boring tlie trees ami fitting tlie reeil-pipea to the Lule.s.
Strawberry and John accouii)aiiied hiiii, and by sunset their work
was complete.

The next morning, when they went out, only Malachi and .Jolm
took their axes with them, for John coidd nae his very well for so
young a lad. They first went to the tree which Martin had dis-
covered ; he had given a description where to find it. They cut it
down, but did not attempt to take the honey till the night, when
they lighted a fire, and drove away the bees by throwing leaves ou
it, and making a great smoke; they then opened the tree, and
gained about two paila full of honey, which they brought in just as
the family were about to go to bed. When they went out the next
morning they found a bear very busy at the remains of the cond>,
but the animal made oft" before they could get a shot at him.

Every morning the Strawberry collected all the sap which had
run out of the trees and j)oured it into the coppirs which had been
fixed up by Malachi, ready for a fire to be lighted under them.
They continued their search, and found three more hives of bees,
which they marked and allowed to remain till later in the season,
when they could take them at their leisure. In a fortnight they
had collected sufBcient liquor from the trees to fill both the coppers
to the brim, besides several j)ails. The fires were therefore lighted
under the coppers, and due notice given to Mrs. Campbell and the
girls that the next day they must go out into the wooils and st>e
the operation ; as the liquor would, towards the afternoon, be turned
into the coolers, which were some of the large washing-tubs then
in use, and which had been thoroughly cleansed for the purpose.

As this was to to a holiday in the woods, they prepared a cold
dinner in a large basket, and gave it in charge of Henry. Mr,
Campbell joined the party, and they all set off to the spot, which
was about two miles distant. On their arrival they examined the
trees and the trays into which the juice first ran, the boilers in
which the liquor was now simmering over the fire, and asked ques-
tions of Malachi, so that they might, if necessary, be able to make
the sugar themselves ; after which the first cooler was filled with the
boiling liquor, that they might see how the sugar crystallized as the
liquor became cold. They then sat down under a large tree and
dined. The tree was at some di.slaiice from the boilers, as there
was no shade in the open spot where Malachi had placed them, and
the afternoon was passed very agreeably in listening to Malachi's
and Martin's stories of their adventures in the woods. While they
were still at dinner, Oscar and the other dogs which had accom-
panied them, had strayed to about a hundred yards distant, and
were soon very busy scraping and barking at a large hole.

; li

THK SKTTLEllS IN CANADA.

185

•0 the holes.
their woik

i and John
well for so
in had dis-
They cut it
tiight, when
,sj: leaves on
ti tree, and
't in just as
•lit the next
f the comb,
liin.

wliich had
h had been
iider them.
es of bees,
the season,
night they
he coppeis

ore liyhted

ell an(i the
'« and sre

, be turned

-tubs then

Jrpose.

red a cold

nry. Mr.

pot, which

iiined the

boilers in

iked quea-

i to make

I with the

ied as the
tree anil
as there

hem, and

Malachi's

hile they

i accom-

aut, and

" What are tlie dogs after?" said Alfred.

♦* Just what the Straw berry wants, and told me to get for her,"
replied Malachi; "we will dig him out to-morrow."

" What is it, Strav/berry V said Mary.

The Strawberry pointed to her moccasins, and then put her finger
on the porcupine-quills with which they were emliroidered.

"I don't know the English iiaiut'," said she softly.

"A porcupine you mean," said Mary; "the animal those quills
come from?"

" Yes," replied the Strawberry.

" is there a porcupine there, Malachi?" said Mrs. Campbell.

" Yes, Ma'am, that is certain ; the dogs know that well enough, or
they would not make such a noise. If you like, we will go for the
shovels and dig him out."

"Do, pray; I should like to see him caught," said Emma; "it
shall be our evening's amusement."

Martin got up and went for tlie shovels; during his absence the
dinner was cleared away, and the articles replaced in the basket;
they then all adjourned to where the dogs were still barking and
scratching.

It was more than an hour before they could dig out the animal,
and when at last it burst away from the hole, they could not help
laughing as they witnessed the way in which one or two of the dogs
were pricked with the quills of the animal, who needed no other
defence; the dogs ran back, pawed their noses, and then went on
again. Oscar was too knowing to attack it in that way; he at-
tempted to turn it over, so that he might get at its stomach, when
he would soon have killed it, but Martin despatched the poor beast
v/ith a blow on the nose. They amused themselves selecting all the
best of the quills for the Strawberry, and then they went back again
to the coolers, to see the sugar which had been made.

As they neared the spot, Emma cried out, " There is a bear at the
cooler; look at him."

Malachi and John had their rifles ready immediately. Mrs.
Campbell and Mury were much alarmed, as the animal was not
one hundred yards from them.

" Do not be afraid, Ma'am," said Malaclii ; ",the animal is oidy
after the sugar. He likes sugar just as well as honey."

" I don't doubt but he's the same beast that you saw at the honey-
comb the other day," said Martin. " Let ua stay where Wf- ai-e and
watch him. We may lose a few pounds of sugar, but I expect he
will make you laugh."

"I really see nothing laughable in such a terrific brute," said
Mrs. ('ampbell.

186

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

M '5 SI'

■: J-

"You are quite safe, Ma'am," said Martin; "Maiacni aud John
have both their rifles."

"Well, then, 1 will trust to them," said Mrs. Campbell; "but I
should prefer being at home, nevertheless. What a great brute it
is!"

"Yea, Ma'am ; it is a very large animal, that's certain ; but they are
not very fat at this time of the ye&r. See how he's smelling at the
liquor, now he's licking the top of it with his tongue. He won't he
satisfied with that, now that he has once tasted it. I told you so."

The bear now proceeded to help himself more liberally. He
placed his paw down into the contents of the cooler, but although
the surface of the liquor was cool, the lower part was still scaldiui;
hot, and he had not put his paw in for a moment when he withdrew
it with a loud roar, rearing up and sitting upon his hind legs, and
throwing his burned paw in the air.

"I said so," observed Malachi, chuckling; "he has found it hotter
than he expected."

"John, Alfred, and Martin burst out laughing at the sight; and
even Mrs. Campbell and the two girls could not help being amused.

"He'll try it again," said Martin.

"Yes, that he will," replied Malachi. "John, be all ready with
your rifle, for the brute has seen us."

"Why, he won't come this way, will he?" exclaimed Mrs. Camp-
bell.

" Yes, Ma'am, that he most likely will when he is angry ; but you
need not fear."

" But I'm afraid, Malachi," said Mary.

"Then perhaps you had better go about tifty yards back with Mr.
Campbell, where you will see the whole without danger. There he
goes to it again ; I knew he would."

Martin, who had got all the dogs collected together and fast by a
piece of deer's-hide, as soon as they had discovered the bear, went.
back with Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and the girls.

"You need have no fear, Ma'am," said Martin; "the rifles won't
miss their mark, and if they did, I have the dogs to let loose upon
him ; and I think Oscar, with the help of the others, would master
him. Down — silence, Oscar — down, dogs, down. Look at the
Strawberry, Ma'am, she's not afraid, she's laughing like a silver
bell."

During this interval the bear again applied to the cooler, and
burned himself as before, and this time, being more angry, he now
gave another roar, and, as if considering that the joke had been played
upon him by the party who were looking on, he made directly for
them at a quick run.

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

187

leni &ud John

Pbell; "but I
great brute it

; but they are
aaelling at tlie
He won't he
old you so."
iberally. He
but although
still scaldiii<;
he withdrew
«d legs, and

und it hotter

»f sight; and
iing amused.

1 ready with

Mrs. Camp-

rry; but you

ck with Mr.
^ There he

3d fast by a
bear, weui,

rifles won'?

loose upon
>uld master
>ok at the
lie a silver

cooler, and
Ty, he now
'een played
lirectly for

" Now, John," said Malachi, "get your bead well ou him, right
between his eyes."

John kneeled down in front of Malachi, who had his rifle all
ready; much to the horror of Mrs. Campbell, John permitted the
bear to come within twenty yards of him. He then tired, and the
anmial fell dead without a struggle.

"A good shot, and well p\it in," said Malachi, going up to the
bear. "Let the dogs loose, Martin, that they may worry the car-
cass ; it will do them good."

Martin did so; the dogs were permitted to pull and tear at the
dead animal for a few minutes, and then taken otf; in the meantime,
Mr. Campbell and the ladies had come up to where the animal lay.

"Well, Ma'am, isn't John a good shot?" said Malachi. "Could
the oldest hunter have done better?"

"My dear John, you quite frightened me," said Mrs. Campbell;
"why did you allow the beast to come so near to you?"

"Because I wanted to kill him dead, and not wound him," replied
John.

"To be rfure," replied Malachi; "to wound a bear is worse than
leaving him alone."

"Well, Malachi, you certainly have made a hunter of John," said
Mr. Campbell. " I could not have supposed such courage and
presence of mind in one so young."

John was very much praised, as he deserved to be, by the whole
party ; and then Malachi said :

" The skin belongs to John — that of course."

" Ts the bear good eating now ?" said Mrs. Campbell.

" Not ver}'-, Ma'am," replied Malachi, "for he has consumed all his
fat during the winter; but we will cut off the legs for hams, and
when they are salted and smoked with the other meat, you will
acknowledge that a bear's ham is, at all events, a dish that anyone
may say is good. Come, John, where's your knife ? Martin, give
us a hand here, while Mr. Campbell and the ladies go home."

CHAPTEK XXXIV.

It was in t'.e first week of June that Malachi, when he was out
in the woods, perceived an Indian, who came towards him. He was
a youth of about twenty or twenty-one years old, tall and slightly
made ; he carried his bow and arrows and his tomahawk, but had
iu> gun. Malachi was at that time sitting down on the trunk of a

u \t ,

I :

188

THE SETTLRRS IN CANADA,

) r

^ 1 4

III *l

■'41

I' I 1 1

» 'i' • ^»

fallen tree ; he was not more than two miles from the house, and had
gone out with his rifle without any particular intent, nidess it was that,
aa he expected he should soon receive some communication from the
Indiana, he wished to give them an opportunity of speaking to him
alone. The Indian came up to where Malachi was, and took, a seat
by him, without saying a word.

"Is my son from the West?" said Malachi, in the Indian tongue,
after a silence of one or two minutes.

"The Young Otter is from the West," replied the Indian. "The
old men have told him of the Gray Badger, who has lived the life of
a snake, and who has hunted with the fathers of those who are now
old. Does my father live with the white man i"

"He lives with the white man," replied Malachi; "he has no
Indian blood in his veins."

"Has the white man many in his lodge?" said the Indian.

" Yes ; many young men and many rifles," replied Malachi.

The Indian did not continue this conversation, and there was a
silence of some minutes. Malachi was convinced that the youn^'
Indian had been sent to intimate that Percival was alive and in
captivity, and he resolved to wait patiently till he brought up the
subject.

"Does not the cold kill the white man?" said the Indian at last.

"No; the white man can bear the winter's ice aa well as an
Indian. He hunts as well, and brings home venison."

"Are all who came here with him now in the white man's lodge?"

" No, not all ; one white child slept in the snow, and is in the land
of spirits," replied Malachi.

Here there was a pause in the conversation for some minutes ; at
last the young Indian said :

" A little bird sang in my ear, and it said, ' The white man's
child is not dead; it wandered about in the woods and was lost, and
the Indian found him, and took him to his wigwam in the Far
West'."

" Did not the little bird lie to the Young Otter?" replied Malachi.

" No ; the little bird sung what was true," replied the Indian.
" The white boy is alive and in the lodge of the Indian."

" There are many white men in the country who have children,"
replied Malachi ; " and children are often lost. The little bird may
have sung of the child of some other white man."

"The white boy had a rifle in his hand, and snow-shoes on his
feet."

" So have all they who go out to hunt in the winter's snow," re-
plied Malachi.

" But the white boy was found near to the white man's lodge."

TlIK SKTTLKRS IN CAM AD A.

IRO

ouse, an<l l,a,l
SHitwaHtliaf,
iiori from tlie
nking to liiia
d took a seat

^diun tongue,

uiari. "Tlie
ed the life of
who are now

"he has no

dian,
ilachi.

there was a
' the young
Jive and in
ng'it up the

an at last.
I ^^11 as an

an 's lodge?"
I hi the land

ui mites; at

'hite man's
as lost, and
ill the Far

d Malachi.
I>e Indian.

children,"
■ bird may

oes on his

snow," re-

odge,"

"Then why was not the boy taken bai^k to the white man by the
Indians who found him !"

•'They were going to their own wigwams and could not turn aside;
besides, they feared to come near to the white man's lodge after the
Hiui wjis down , as my father says he has many young men and many
rifles."

"But the white man does not raise his rifle against the Indian,
whether he comes by day or by night," replied Malachi. " At night
he kills the prowling wolf when he comes near to the lodge."

The Indian again stopped and was silent. He knew by the words
of Mahichi that the wolf's skin, with which the Indian had been
covered when he was crawling to the palisades and had been shot by
John, had been discoveied. Malachi, after a while, renewed the
conversation.

" Is the Young Otter of a near tribe /"

"The lodges of our tribe are twelve days' journey to the west-
ward," replied the Indian.

"The chief of the Young Otter's band is a great warrior?"

" He is," replied the Indian.

" Yes," replied Malachi. " The * Angry Snake ' is a great warrior.
1 )id he send the Young Otter to me to tell me that the white boy
was alive, and in his wigwam?"

The Indian again paused. He jierceived that M.alachi knew
where he came from, and from whom. At last he said:

" It is many moons since the Angry Snake has taken care of the
wliite boy, and has fed him with venison ; many moons that he has
hunted for him to give him food ; and the white boy loves the Angry
Snake as a father, and the Angry Snake loves the boy as his son.
lie will adopt him, and the white boy will be the chief of the tribe.
He will forget the white men, and become red as an Indian."

" The boy is forgotten by the white man, who has long numbered
him with the dead," replied Malachi.

" The white man has no memory," replied the Indian, " to forget
so soon ; but it is not so. He would make many presents to him
who would bring back the boy."

"And what presents could he make?" replied Malachi; "the
white man is poor, and hunts with his young men as the Indian
does. What has the wliite man to give that the Indian covets? He
has no whisky."

"The white man has powder, and lead, and rifles," replied the
Indian ; " more than he can use, locked up in his storehouse."

" And will the Angry Snake bring back the white boy if the white
man gives him powder, and lead, and rifles?" inquired Malachi.

"He will make a long journey, and bring the white boy with

1 I'

190

THB BETTLFRS IN CANADA.

^ (

Elf "

■

1 M

m -■ ■" '

;<'l

I \

im I

him," replied the Indian; "but first let the white man Ray wlmt
presents he will give."

"He shall be sjmken to," replied Malachi, "and his answer shall
be brought, but the Young Otter must not go to the white m.tn'a
lodge. A red-skin is not safe from the riflis of the young men.
When the moon is at tlie full I will meet the Young Otter aftor the
sun is down, at the eastern side of the long prairie. Is it gooil I"

"Good," replied the Indian, who rose, turned ou his heel, and
walked away into the forest.

When Malachi returned to the house, he took an opportunity (if
communicating to Alfred what had taken place. After some eon
versation, they agreed that they would make Captain Sinclair, who
had that morning arrived from the fort, their confidant as to what
had occurred, and decide with him u[)OU what steps should be taken.
Captain Sinclair was very much surprised, .and equally delighted,
when he heard that Percival was still alive, and warmly entered into
the subject.

"The great question is whether it would not be better to accede
to the terms of this scoundrel of an Indian chief," observed Captain
Sinclair. "What are a few pounds of powder, and a rifle or two,
compared with the happiness which will be produced by the return
of Percival to his parents, who have so long lamented him aa
dead?"

"It's not that," replied Malachi. "I know that Mr. Campboll
would give his whole storeroom to regain his boy ; but we must con-
sider what will be the consequence if he does so. One thing is
certain, that the Angry Snake will not be satisfied with a trifiing
present ; he will ask many rifles, perhaps more than we have at the
farm, and powder and shot in proportion; for he has mixed much
with white people, especially when the French were here, and he
knows how little we value such things, and how much we love our
children. But, in the first place, you supply him and his band with
arms to use against us at any other time, and really make them for-
midable; and in the next place, you encourage him to make some
other attempt to obtain simihar presents — for he will not be idle.
Kecollect that we have in all probability killed one of their band,
when he came to reconnoitre the house in the skin of a wolf, and
that will never be forgotten, but revenged as soon as it can be.
Now, if we give him arms and ammunition, we shall put the means
of revenge in his hands, and I should not be surprised to find us one
day attacked by him and his band, and, it may be, overpowered by
means of these rifles which you propose to give him."

"There is much truth and much good sen&e in what you say,
Malachi — indeed, I think it almost at once decides the point, and that

' ll

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

191

nan my wlial;

8 answer ah.ill
le white n\:i\\\
e youii^r ni'jii.
Hter aftor tlie
a it goo<l /"
liis heel, and

opportunity of
ter some con-
Sinelaii-, wlio
mt HH to what
ouhl be taken,
illy delightc.l,
y entered into

itter to acceiK'
2rved Captain
I rifle or two,
by the retain
iiited him m

Mr. Campl)pll
we must con-
One thing ia
ath a trifling
3 have at the
mixed much
here, and he
I we love our
lis band witli
ike them for-
:> make some
not be idle.
P their band,
a wolf, and
IS it can be.
ut the means
find us one
rpowered by

lat you say,
int, and that

we mu» not consent to his terras ; but then what must we do to re-
cover the boy?"

"That is the question which puzzles me," roplied Alfred, "for I
perfectly agreed with Malachi, that we must not give him arms and
ammunition, and I doubt if he would accept of anything else."

"No, that he will not, depend upon it," replied Malachi. "I
tliink there is but one way that will give us any chance."

"What, then, is your idea, Malachi?"

"The Angry Snake with his band were tracking us, and had we
not been too strong, would have attacked and murdered us all, that
is clear. Not daring to do that, he has stolen Percival, and detains
him, to return him at his own price. Now, the Young Otter has
come to us, and offers to come again. We have given him no pledge
of safe-conduct, and, therefore, when he comes again we must have
an ambush ready for him, and make him prisoner; but then, you see,
we mu.st have the assistance of the Colonel, for he must be confined
at the fort; we could not well keep him at the farm. In the first
place, it would be impossible then to withhold the secret from Mr.
and Mrs. Campbell ; and, in the next, we should have to be on the
look-out for an attack every night for his rescue ; but if the Colonel
was to know the whole circumstances, and would assist us, we might
capture the Indian lad, and hold him as a hostage for Master Per-
cival, till we could make some terms with the Angry Snake."

"I like your idea very much, Malachi," replied Captain Sinclair;
" and if, Alfred, you agree with me, I will acquaint the Colonel with
the whole of what has passed when I return to-night, and see if he
will consent to our taking such a step. When are you to meet the
Indian, Malachi?"

"In three days, that is on Saturday, it will be the full of the
moon, and then I meet him at night, at the end of the prairie nearest
to the fort, so that there will be no difficulty in doing all we propose
without Mr. and Mrs. Campbell being aware of anything that has
taken place."

"I think we cannot do better than you have proposed," said Alfred.

" Be it so, then," said Captain Sinclair. " I will be here again to-
morrow — no, not to-morrow, but the day after will be better, and then
I will give you the reply of the Colonel, and make such arrangements
as may be necessary."

" That's all right," replied Malachi ; " and now all we have to do is
to keep our own secret ; so, perhaps. Captain Sinclair, you had better
go back to the young ladies, for Miss Mary may imagine that it must
be something of very great importance which can have detained you
so long from her presence;" and Malachi smiled as he finished his
remark.

i '

'1 i

102

THE fiKTTI.KUS IN CANADA,

<i'ri

Tliore'a rrood kciiho in tliat ol)Hervatio* , Malaelii," said Alfred,
laughing. " (Jomo, Sinclair."

Cy'aptain Sinclair <|nitte(l in the ovening, and went back to the; fo.
}Io returned at the time apjiointcd, and infornuHl them tli.it tlio
('olonel fully approved of their plan of holding,' the young Indi.in ;is
a hostage, and that he would secure him in the fort aa soon as he
Wiia brought in.

"Now, do we want any a«HiHtance from the fort? Surely not, to
capture an Indian lad; at least, so 1 said to the Colonel," continued
Captain Sinclair.

" No, we want no assistance, as you say. I am his match myself, if
that were all; but it is not strength which is re(|uired. Ife is as litlie
ami supple as an eel, and as dillicult to hold, that I am certain of.
If we were to use our rifles, there would be no dirtlculty, but to lif)M
him will give some trouble to two of us, and if once he breaks Ioohc,
he would be too fleet for any of us."

"Well, then, Malachi, how shall we j)roceed?"

"Why, I must meet him, and you and Mr. Alfred and Martin
must be hid at a distance, and gradually steal near to us. Martin
shall have his deer thongs all ready, and when you pounce upon him,
he must bind him at once. Martin is used to them, antl knows how
to manage it."

" Well, if you think that we three cannot manage liim, let us have
Martin."

"It isn't strength," replied Malachi, "but he will slip throut;li
your fingers, if not well tied, in half a minute. Now, we will jiisl
walk down to where I intend to meet him, and survey the place, ;uid
then I'll show you where you must be, for we must not be s<'en
together in that direction to-morrow, for he may be lurking about,
and have some suspicion."

They then walked to the end of the prairie nearest to the foit,
which was about a mile from the house, and Malachi having selected
his ground, and |)ointed out to them where to conceal themselves,
they returned to the house, Alfred having made arrangements win ii
and where he and Martin would meet Captain Sinclair on the diiy
appointed.

The next day passed, and Malachi, as the sun sank behind the
hike, walked out to the end of the prairie. He had not been there
ten minutes, when the young Indian stood before him. He w.i.s
armed, as before, with his tomahawk and bow and arrows, but
Malachi had come out expressly without his rifle.

Malachi, as soon as he perceived the Indian, sat down, as is the
usual custom among them when they hold a talk, and the Young
Otter followed his exatni)le.

«1 Alfred,

I) the fi»;'

•lutt tho
llldi.ui ;iH
'Oil as lie

ly not, to
-oritimi(.,l

mvHoIf, if

is as lithe

ertaiii of.

t to hold

IKH h)()Mt\

I Martin

Martin

poll hill),

owa how

' us liave

TIIK 8RTTLBH8 IM CANADA.

193

through

will jnsi

laoe, and

bo Sf'on

g about,

tlie fort,

seh'cted

iiiselves,

ts when

the day

ind the

n there

:Ie was

vs, but

3 is the

Yoimg

"Hafl my fatlier talked to the white man?" wild the Indian after
a short aiience.

"The white man ^'rieves for tlie \ouh of lii.s hoy, and hia squaw
weeps," rejilied Malachi. •' The Angry Snake immt bring the boy to
the lodge of the white man, and receive pn-Henta."

" Will the white man be generous?" continued the Indian.

"He has powder, and lead, and rifles, and tobacco; will such
presents please the Angry Snake?"

"Tho Angry Snake had a dream," replied the Indian, "and he
told mo his dream. He dreamt that the white boy was put into his
mother's arms, who wept for joy, and the white man opened his
store, and gave to the Angry Snake ten rifles, and two kegs of
powder, and as much lead as four men could carry away."

"'Twas a good dream," replied Malachi, "and it will come true
when the white boy cornea back to his mother."

" 1 he Angry Snake had another dream. He dreamt that the white
man received his child, and pushed the Angry Snake out from the
door of his lodge."

"That was bad," replied Malachi. "Look at me, my son; say,
dill you ever hear that the (Jray Badger said a lie?" and Malachi laid
hold of the Indian's arm as he spoke.

This was the signal agreed upon between Malachi and the party
concealed, who rushed forward and seized the Indian. The Young
Otter sprang up in spite of their endeavours to keep him, and would
certainly have escaped, for he had got his tomahawk clear, and was
about to wield it around his head, had not Martin already passed one
of the deer thongs round his ankle, by which the Indian was thrown
again to the ground. His arms were then secured behind his back
with other deer-skin thongs, and another passed round his ankle, and
given to Alfred.

"You were right, Malachi," said Captain Sinclair; "how he con-
trived to twist himself out of our griisp I cannot imagine; but he
certainly would have been off, and probably have broken our heads
before he went."

" I know the nature of these Indiana," replied Malachi ; " they're
never safe, even when tied, if the thong do< s not cut into the bone ;
but you have him now, fast enough, and the sooner you get to the
fort the better. You have your rifles in the bush?"

"Yes," rej)lied Martin, "you'll find them behind the large oak
tree."

"I'll fetch them; not that I think there's much danger of a
rescue."

" We have not far to take him," said Captain Sinclair ; " for, as I
wished you and Alfred not to be so long away as to induce questions

(M68) N

194

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

3\-\

&!■',

1st— f '

to be asked, I have a file of men and a corporal about half a mile off,
concealed in the bush. But, Malachi, it is as well to let the Indian
know that he is only detained as a hostage, and will be returned as
soon as the boy is sent back."

Malachi addressed the Indian in his own tongue, and told him
what Captain Sinclair requested.

" Tell him that there are several Indian women about the fort,
who will take any message he may send to the Angry Snake."

The Young Otter made no reply to anything said by Malachi, but
looked around him very impatiently.

" Be off as fast as you can," said Malachi, " for depend upon it the
Angry Snake was to meet him after his talk with me; I see it by his
wandering eye, and his looking round for assistance. I will go with
you, and return with Alfred and Martin, for I have no rifle."

"You can take mine, Malachi, as soon as we come up to the
soldiers."

This was done in a few minutes. Captain Sinclair then took
charge of the Indian, and set off with his party for the fort.
Malachi, Alfred, and Martin returned to the house, and before they
entered the prairie, Martin detected the tall ligure of an Indian at a
short distance, in the shade of the trees.

" Yes, I was sure of it," said Malachi. " It was well that I did not
go back without you. After all, in the woods a man's no man with-
out his rifle."

CHAPTEK XXXV.

Martin was right when he stated that he perceived the form of the
Angry Snake under the shade of the trees. The chief was then
watching what occurred, and had been witness to the capture of his'
emissary, and, following those who had the Young Otter in charge,
saw him conveyed to the fort. In the meantime, Malachi, Martin,
and Alfred went home, without any suspicion being raised among the
other branches of the family of what had occurred. This gave them
great satisfaction.

" Well, Malachi," said Alfred the next morning, as they were all
busily employed getting the seed into the new - cleared land ;
" what do you imagine will be the steps now taken by the Angry
Snake?"

"It's hard to say," replied Malachi; "for he well deserves the
name of a snake, if, as the Scripture says, it's the subtlest thing on
earth : he will try all he can, you may be sure ; and if it were not

ut half a mile off,
to let the Indian
ill be returned as

ue, and told him

about the fort,
;ry Snake."
by Malachi, but

pend upon it the
e; I see it by hia
^ I will go with
> no rifle."
come up to the

iclair then took
ty for the fort,
and before they
»f an Indian at a

j11 that I did not
a's no man with-

THB SBTTLRRS IN CANADA.

196

the form of the
chief was then
e capture of hi?
^tter in cliarge,
falachi, Martin,
J-ised amonflf the
This gave them

a they were all

■ cleared land ;

by the Angry

11 deserves the

btlest thing on

if it were not

that he is afraid of us, he would attack us immediately ; but that I
have no idea that he will venture upon."

" No, for your letter says, that he has only two rifles in his band,
which are not enough to give him any chance of success."

" Very true. I hear that the bateaiu; are coming from the fort for
the plank and flour."

"Yes, to-morrow, if there is not so much wind as there is to-day;
it blows very fresh. Where is John?"

" I left him with the Strawberry; they were busy with the sugar."

"By the by, how much have you got, Malachi?"

"About three or four hundred pounds, as near as I can reckon;
quite as much as Madam will require."

'• Yes, I should think so ; now we shall have preserves of all sorts
and the fruit for nothing ; the wild raspberries are nearly ripe, and
so are the cherries ; my cousins want John to help to gather them."

" Well, I dare say he will do so, although I believe that he would
rather do anything else. He said he was going to fish this morning."

" The water is too rough, and he will not be able to manage the
punt by himself."

" Then that's the very reason why he'll go out," replied Malachi ;
"he don't like easy jobs like picking raspberries. Is it true, Alfred,
that we are to have some more settlers come here?"

" Yes, I believe so ; my father is very anxious to have them ; he
thinks it will be a great security, and he has offered very advantage*
ous terms; you won't much like that, Malachi?"

" Well, I dare say you may think so, but it ia not the case ; if any
one had told me, two years ago, that I could have remained here, I
v/ould have said it was impossible, but we are all creatures of habit.
1 had been so used to my own company for so long a time, that when
I first saw you I couldn't bear the sight of you ; no, not even that of
your pretty cousi»ia. Miss Mary and Emma, although, Heaven knows,
they might tame a savage ; but now I feel quite changed ; I have
first borne with company, because I fancied the boy, and then I felt
no dislike to it, and now I like it I believe that in my old age I am
coming back to my feelings as a boy, and I think very often of my
father's farm, and the little village that was close to it ; and then I
(.ften fancy that I should like to see a village rise up here, and a
church stand up there upon the mount ; 1 think I should like to live
on till I saw a church built and God worshipped as He ought to be."

" This is indeed a change, Malachi ; well, I hope you will see a
church on the mount, and live many years afterwards to be present
at the weddings and christenings."

" As it pleases God, sir. There's one thing, Alfred, that has given
yie great content, and more than anything, perhaps, reconciled me

196

TUB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

;)->!!

>. I

t ,» ;

to ray new way of living ; and that is, that the Strawberry, by the
blessing of God and the labour of your mother and cousins, has
become a good Christian ; you don't know how pleased I am at that."

" She's an excellent little creature, MiJachi ; every one is fond of
her, and I believe Martin is very strongly attached to her."

" Yes, she's a good wife, for she never uses her tongue, and obeys
her husband in all things. I think Martin has now become quite
steady, and you might send him to Montreal, or anywhere else, with-
out fear of his getting into the prison for making a disturbance

I see that a bear has been over into the maize-field last night."

" What ! did he climb the snake-fence?"

" Yes, they climb anything ; but I have got his tracks, and this
night I think that I shall get hold of him, for I shall lay a trap for
him."

Malachi and Alfred continued to work for two or three hours,
when they were summoned by Emma to go in to dinner. " I can-
not find John," said Emma, as they walked home; "Strawberry
says that he left her some time back, and went to fish; have you
seen him pass by the river's side?"

" No," replied Alfred ; " but, Malachi, you said that he was going
to fish in the punt, did you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you see the punt on the beach, Emma?"

"No, I do not," replied Emma; "but it may be behind the point."

" Nor can T • T hope he has not been carried away by the wind,
for it blows \ ly laW; I'll run down and see if he is there."

Alfred ran . o- .^ to the beach ; the punt was gone from the shore,
and after looking for some time to leeward, which was to the east-
ward, in the direction of the rapids, Alfred thought that he per-
ceived something like a boat at a distance of three or four miles;
but the water of the lake was much rutfled by the strong wind, and
it was not easy to distinguish.

Alfred hastened back, and said to Emma, " I really am afraid
that John is adrift. I think I see the boat, but am not sure.
Emma, go in quietly and bring out my telescope, which is over my
bed-place. Do not let them see you, or they will be asking questions,
and your aunt may be alarmed."

Emma went to the house, and soon returned with the telescope.
Alfred and Malachi then went down to the beach, and the former
distinctly m?Ae out that what he had seen was the punt adrift, with
John in it.

"Now, what is to be done?" said Alfred. "I must take a horse,
and ride olf to the fort, for if they do not see him before he passes,
he may not be picked up."

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

197

'rry, by the
ionsins, has
im at that."
is fond of

and obeys
icome quite

else, with-

rbance

ight."

«, and this
a traj) for

iree hours,
'. "lean-
Strawberry
have you

was

going

the point."
the wind,
e."

the sliore,
> the east-
it he per-
)ur miles;
wind, and

am afraid
not sure.
« over my
questions,

telescope,
le former
rift, witli

I a horse,
le passes,

"If he once gets into the rapids," said Malachi, "he will be in
great danger ; for he may be borne down upon one of the rocks, and
upset in a minute."

" Yes ; but he is some way from them yet," replied Alfred.

" Very true ; but with this strong wind right down to them, and
helping the current, he will soon be .xiere. There is no time to be
lost."

"No; but I'll go in to dinner, and as soon as I have taken a
mouthful, just to avoid creating any alarm, I will slip out, and ride
to the fort as fast as I can."

"Just so; you will be there in good time, for he is now three
miles above the fort; indeed, he cannot well pass it without their
seeing him."

" Yes, he can, now that the water is so rough," replied Alfred ;
" recollect that they are soldiers in the fort, and not sailors, who are
accustomed to look on the water. A piece of drift timber and a
punt is much the same to their eyes. Come, let us in to dinner."

" Yes, I'll follow you," replied Malachi ; " but, before I come in,
I'll catch the horse and saddle him for you. You can tell Miss
Emma to hold her tongue about it."

Alfred rejoined Emma, whom he cautioned, and then they went
in to their dinner.

" Where's John?" said Mrs. Campbell; " he promised me some lake
fish for dinner, and has never brought them in; so you will not have
such good fare as I expected."

"And Where's Malachi?" said Alfred.

" I daresay he and John are out together somewhere," observed
Henry, who, with Martin, had come in before Alfred.

" Well, he will lose his dinner," said Mi-s. Campbell.

" That's what I cannot afford to do, Mother," said Alfred ; " I am
very hungi'y, and I have not more than five minutes to spare, for
that seed must be put in to-night."

" I thought Malachi was with you, Alfred," said Mr. Campbell.

"So he was, Father," replied Alfred; "but he left me. Now,
Mother, please to give me my dinner."

Alfred ate fast, and then rose from the table, and went away from
the house. The horse was all ready, and he mounted and rode off
for the fort, telling Malachi that his father and mother thought
John was with him ; and that, therefore, he had better not go in to
dinner, but keep out of the way.

" Yes, that will be best, and then they can ask no questions. Be
quick, for I am not at all easy about the boy."

Their plans, however, to conceal the danger of John did not
succeed; for Mrs. Campbell, after the loss of poor little Percival,

■ii

198

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

1' '5 ,,

'I'- 1 i.

•f i

I 'j'^ij

had become more than ever solicitous about John, and, a minute or
two after Alfred had left the house, she rose from the table and
went to the door, to see if she could perceive Malachi and John
coming in. As it happened, Alfred had just set oflF in a gallop, and
she saw him, as well as Malachi standing by himself and watching
Alfred's departure. The very circumstance of Alfred's mysterious
departure alarmed her. He had never said that he was going to the
fort, and that John was not with Malachi was certain. She went
into the cottage, and, sinking back in her chair, exclaimed — " Some
accident has happened to John ! "

"Why should you say so, my dear?" said Mr. Campbell.

"I'm sure of it," replied Mrs. Campbell, bursting into tears,
" Alfred is riding away to the fort. Malachi is standing by himself
outside. What can it be?"

Mr. Campbell and all the others ran out immediately, exce])t
Mary Percival, who went to Mrs. Campbell. Mr. Campbell
beckoned to Emma, and from her obtained the real state of the
case.

"It will be belter to tell her at once," said Mr. Campbell, who
then went to his wife, telling her that John was adrift, and that
Alfred had ridden to the fort to pick him up in one of the bateaux,
but there was no danger to be apprehended.

"Why should they conceal it, if there was no danger, Campbell?'
replied his wife. "Yes; there must be danger now the water is so
rough. My child, am I to lose you as well as my poor Percival] "
continued Mrs. Campbell, again sobbing.

Every attempt was made to console her and assuage her fears, but
with indifferent success, and the afternoon of this day was passed in
great concern by all, and in an extreme state of nervous anxiety on
the part of Mrs. Campbell. Towards the evening, Alfred was seen
returning on horseback at full speed. The whole of the family were
out watching his arrival, with beating hearts; poor Mrs. Campbell
in almost a fainting state. Alfred perceived them long before he
had crossed the prairie, and waved his hat in token of good tidings.

" All's well, depend upon it, my dear," said Mr. Campbell. " Al-
fred would not wave his hat if there was any disaster."

" I must have it from his own mouth." said Mrs. Campbell, almost
breathless.

"Safe?" cried out Martin to Alfred, as he approached.

" Safe, quite safe !" cried Alfred, in return.

"Thank Heaven!" cried Mrs. Campbell, in a low voice, clasping
her hands in gratitude.

Alfred leaped off his saddle, and hastened to communicate the
news. John, trusting too much to his own powers, had gone out in

;i-i ;

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

199

a minute or
e table and
i and John
gallop, and
id watching
mysterious
?oing to the
She went
ed~«Some

into tears.

by himself

ely, except

Campbell

tate of the

ipbell, who
t, and that
he bateaux,

t^ampbell ? "
water is so
Percival/"

' fears, but
3 passed in
Etnxiety on
I was seen
imily were
Campbell
before he
d tidings.
Jll. "Al-

jU, almost

, claspiug

icate the
ae out in

the punt, and soon found out that he could not manage it in so
strong a wind. He attempted to get back to the beach, but waa
unsuccessful, and had, as we have said, been carried away by the
wind and current down towards the rapids ; but it so happened, that
before Alfred had arrived at the fort, Captain Sinclair had observed
the punt adrift, and, by the aid of a telescope, ascertained that John
was in it, exerting himself very vigorously, but to no purpose. Cap-
tain Sinclair, having reported it to the commandant and obtained
permission, had launched one of the bateaux^ manned by soldiers, and
liad brought John and the punt on shore, about four miles below the
fort, and not until they had arrived in the strong current of the
rapids, which in another hour would have, in all probability, proved
fatal. Alfred, from the fort, had seen Captain Sinclair gain the
shore, with John and the punt in tow, and, as soon as he was satis-
fied of his brother's safety, had ridden back as fast as he could to
communicate it. This intelligence gave them all great delight, and
now that they knew that John was safe, they waited his return with
patience. Captain Sinclair arrived, with John behind him, on horse-
back, about two hours afterwards, and was gladly welcomed.

" Indeed, Captain Sinclair, we are under great obligations to you.
Had you not been so active, the boy might have been lost," said Mrs.
Campbell. " Accept my best thanks."

" And mine," said Mary, extending her hand to him.

** John, you have frightened n.e very much," said Mrs. Campbell ;
" how could you be so imprudent as to go on the lake in such a high
wind ] See what a narrow escape you have had."

" I should have been at Montreal to-morrow morning," said John,
laughing.

"No, never; you would have been upset in the rapids long before
you could get to Montreal."

'* Well, Mother, I can swim," replied John.

" You naughty boy, nothing will make you afraid."

" "Well, Ma'am, it's a good fault, that of having confidence in your-
self, so don't check it too much," replied Malachi. " It saves many a
man who would otherwise be lost."

"That's very true, Malachi," observed Alfred ; "so, now that he is
safe back, we won't scold John any more. He will know better than
to go out in such rough weather again."

" To be sure I shall," said John ; " I don't wa7it to go down the
rapids."

" Well, I'm glad to hear you say that," replied Mrs. Campbell.

Captain Sinclair remained with them that night. Before daylight,
the family were alarmed by the report of a gun, and it was im-
mediately supposed that some attack had been made on the lodge

lij

200

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

h- ii\

'■'i ^

ill

1 n ? !,

'■■■ ;a ii ' !

! :■?•:

'I 4

occupied by Malachi, Martin, and his wife. Captain Sinclair, Alfred,
Henry, and John sprang out of bed, and were clothed in a minute.
As soon as they had armed themselves, they opened the door cau-
tiously, and, looking well round, went through the passage to the
sheepfold where the lodge was built. Everything, however, ap-
peared to be quiet, and Alfred knocked at the door. Malaclii
answered to the inquiry, " What is the matter?"

"We heard the report of a gun close to the house just now, and
we thought something might have happened."

"Oh !" cried Malachi, laughing, "is that all? Then you may all
go to bed again. It's my trap for the bear — nothing more. I forgot
to tell you last night."

" Well, as we are up, we may as well go and see," said Alfred ;
" the day is breaking."

" Well, I am ready," said Malachi, coming out with his deer-skin
jacket in one hand and his rifle in the other.

They walked to the maize-field on the other aide of the river, and
found that the trap had been successful, for a large bear lay dead at
the foot of the snake-fence.

" I've got him," said Malachi.

" But what was the trap?" said Henry.

" I tracked the brute over the rails by his broad foot-mark, and as
I knew he would come the same way, I fixed the rifle with a wire to
the trigger, so that, as he climbed up, he must touch the wire with
his fore-paws, and the muzzle, pointed a little downwards, would
then about reach his heart when the gun went off". You see, it has
happened just as I wished it, and there's another good skin for
Montreal."

"It is a she-bear," said Martin, who had joined them, "and she
has cubs ; they can't be far off."

" That's true," replied Malachi ; " so now you had better all go back
again. Martin and I will hide, and I'll answer for it, in an hour we
will bring the cubs home with us."

The rest of the party returned to the house. The Strawberry had
already made known to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell the cause of the
report. About an hour before breakfast, Malachi and Martin came
in, each with a cub of a few weeks old. The little animals had come
in the track of the mother in search of her, and were pawing the
dsad body, as if trying to awaken her, when Malachi and Martin
secured them.

" What a charming pet !" said Emma ; " I will rear it for myself."

" And I'll have the other," said John.

No objection was raised to this, except that Mr. Campbell observed,
that if they became troublesome as they grew up, they must be

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

201

air, Alfred,
a minute,
door cau-
^age to the
wever, ap-
Malachi

t now, and

■>u niayaJl
I forgot

id Alfred ;
deer-skin

river, and
^y dead at

rk, and aa
a wire to
wire with
ds, would
't'e, it has
skin for

■'and she

1 go back
hour we

erry had
le of the
tin came
ad come
nng the
Martin

myself."

)8erved,
aust be

parted with, which was agreed to. Emma and John took posaesaion
of their pets, and fed them with milk, and in a few days they became
very tame ; one being chained up near the house, and the other at
Malachi'a lodge. They soon grew very playful and very amusing
little animals, and the dogs became used to them, and never attempted
to hurt them ; indeed, very often Oscar and the bear would be seen
rolling about together, the best friends in the world. But iu a few
mouths they became too large for pets, and too troublesome. So one
waa despatched by a bateau going to Montreal, as a pieaeut to Mr.
Emmerson, and the other was taken to the fort by Captain Sinclair,
aud became a great favourite of the soldiers.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Captain Sinclair waa now constantly at the house, for in the summer
time the commandant allowed much more liberty to the officera.
Although the detention of the Young Otter and the cauae of hia
being detained had been made known to the Angry Snake, weeka
passed away, and yet there appeared no intention on the part of the
chief to redeem his young warrior by producing Percival. Every day
an overture on ^ s part was expected, but none came, and those who
were in the seem- were in a continual state of suspense and anxiety.
One thing had been ascertained, which was, that the Indian fired at
by John had been killed, and this occasioned much fear on the part
of Malachi and Martin that the Angry Snake would revenge the
death upon young Percival. This knowledge of the Indian feeling,
however, they kept to themselves.

Towards the close of the summer they had an arrival of letters and
newspapers, both from England and Montreal. There was nothing
peculiarly interesting in the intelligence from England, although the
newspapers were, as usual, read with great avidity. One paragraph
met the eye of Henry, which he immediately communicated, ob-
serving at the time that they always obtained news of Mr. Douglas
C-ampbell on every fresh arrival. The paragraph waa aa follows: —
" The Oxley hounds had a splendid run on Friday last;" after describ-
ing the country they passed through, the paragraph ended with,
"We regret to say that Mr. Douglas Campbell, of Wexton Hall,
received a heavy fall from his horse, in clearing a wide brook. He
is, however, we understand, doing well." The letters from Montreal
were, however, important. They communicated the immediate de-
parture from that city of four families of emigranta, who had accepted
the terma offered by Mr. Emmerson, and were coming to settle upon

I !( I

*'!

i 18

i\;:n

:'.i ^

• . *

m'/'W \

202

TUB SETTLERS IH CANADA.

Mr. Campbell's property. They also stated that the purchase of the
other six hundred acres of contiguous land had been completed, and
sent the government receipts for the purchase-money.

The news contained in this letter induced Mr. Campbell to send a
message to the commandant of the fort, by Captain Sinclair, acquaint-
ing him with the expected arrival of the emigrant families, and
requesting to know whether he would allow a party of soldiers to
assist in raising the cottages necessary for their reception, and
begging the loan of two or three tents to accommodate them iipnn
their arrival, until their cottages should be built. The reply of the
commandant was favouralde, and now all was bustle and activity,
tliat, if possible, the buildings might be in forwardness previous to
harvest time, when tliey would all have ample occupation. Indeed,
as the hay-harvest was just coming on, without assistance from the
fort they never could have got through the work previous to the
winter setting in, and it would have been very inconvenient to have
had to receive any of the emigrants into their own house.

The sites of the four cottages, or log luits, were soon selected;
they were each of them nearly half a mile from Mr. Campbell's house,
and while some of the party, assisted by a portion of the sokiiera,
were getting in the hay, the others, with another portion, were
cutting down the trees and building up the cottages. In a fortniglit
after they had commenced, the emigrants arrived, and were liouse(i
in the tents prepared for them ; and as their labour was now adihid
to that of the others, in a short time everything was well in advance.
The agreement made by Mr. Campbell was that the emigrants sliould
each receive fifty acres of land, after they had cleared for him a
similar quantity; but there were many other conditions, relative to
food and supply of stock to the emigrant families, which are not
worth the while to dwell upon. It is sutlicient to say that Mr.
Campbell, with his former purchases, retained about 600 acre^,
which he considered quite sufficient for his farm, which was all in a
ring fence, and with the advantage of bordering on the lake. The
fire had cleared a great deal of the new land, so that it required little
trouble for his own people to get it into a fit state for the first crop.

While the emigrants and soldiers were hard at work, the Colonel
paid a visit to Mr. Campbell, to settle his account with him, and
handed over a bill upon government for the planks, flour, &c., sup-
plied to the fort.

"I assure you, Mr. Campbell, I have great pleasure," said the
Colonel, " in giving you every assistance, and I render it the more
readily as I am authorized by the Governor so to do. Your arrival
and settling here has proved very advantageous ; for your sup];)lying
the fort has saved the government a great deal of moiiey, at the same

•■1

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

203

rchase of the
npleted, and

ell to send a
lir, acquaint-
amilies, and
f soldierH to
Jeption, and
B them upon
reply of the
ind activity,
previous to
>n. Indeed,
ice from the
^ious to tlie
lent to have

m selected;
bell's house,
the soLliers,
)rtion, were

a fortnight
vere lioused
I now added
in advance,
'ants sliould

for him a
I relative to
ich are not
Y that Mr.
600 acien,
vas all in a
lake. Tlie
uired little
first crop,
he Colonel
I him, and
', &c., sup-

' said the
the more
•ur arrival
supplying
"i the same

time that it has been profitable to you, and enabled you to get rid
of your crops without sending them down so far as Montreal, which
would have been as serious an expense to you, as getting the provi-
sions from Montreal has proved to us. You may keep the fatigue
party of soldiers upon the same terms as before, as long as they may
prove useful to you, provided they return to the fort by the coming
of winter."

" Then I will, if you please, retain them for getting in the harvest ;
we have so much to do that I shall be most liai)py ^o P'^y ^^r their
assistance."

I have said that there were four families of emigrants, and now I
will let my readers know a little more about them.

The first fam y was a man and his wife of the name of ITarvey ;
they had two sons of fourteen and fifteen, and a daughter of eighteen
years of age. This man had been a small farmer, and by his industry
was gaining an honest livelihood, and putting by some money, when
Ids eldest son, who was at the time al)Out twenty years old, fell into
bad company, and was always to be seen at the alehouses or at the
fairs, losing his time and losing his money. The father, whose
ancestors had resided for many generations on the same spot, and
had always been, as long as they could trace back, small farmers like
himself, and who was proud of only one thing, which was that his
family had been noted for honesty and upright dealing, did all he
could to reclaim him, but in vain. At last the son was guilty of a
burglary, tried, convicted, and transported for life. The disgrace
had such an effect upon the father that he never held up his head
afterwards ; he was ashamed to be seen in the parish, and at last he
resolved to emigrate to a new country where what had happened
would not be known.

He accordingly sold off everything, and came to Canada ; but by
the time that he had arrived in the country, and ])aid all his expenses,
he had little money left, and when he heard from Mr. Emmerson the
terms offered by Mr. Campbell, he gladly accepted them. The wife,
his two sons and his daughter, who came with him, were as indus-
trious and respectable as himself.

The second family, of the name of Graves, consisted of a man and
his wife, and only one son, a young man grown uji ; but the wife's
two sisters were with them. He had come from Buckinghamshire,
and bad been accustomed to a dairy farm.

The third family was a very numerous one, with a man and his
wife, of the name of Jackson ; they had been farmers and market-
gardeners near London ; and had brought out some money with them;
but, as I have mentioned, they had a very large family, most of them
too young to be very useful for a few years. They had seven

; I

•ir • I

f i M

Wii

204

THE SETTLERS TN CANADA.

i n

i r

M I

children: a girl of eighteen, two boys of twelve and thirteen, then
three little girls, and a boy an infant. Jackson had money enough
to purchase a farm, but being a very prudent man, and reflecting
that he might not succeed at first, and that his large family would
run away with all his means, ho decided upon accepting the terms
proposed by Mr. Campbell.

The fourth and last of the emigrant families was a young coupio
of the name of Meredith. The husband was the son of a farmer in
Shropshire, who had died, and divided his pro|)erty between his
three sons: two of them remained upon the faim and paid the
youngest brother his proportion in money, who, being of a speculative
turn, resolved to come to Canada and try his fortune. He married
just before he came out, and was not as yet encumbered with any
family; he was a fine youiig man, well educated, and his wife a verj
clever, pretty young woman.

Thus there was an addition of twenty-one souls to the populatioi,
of Mr. Campbell's settlement, which with their own tiu made a totai
of thirty-one people, out of whom they reckoned thac thirteen were
capable of bearing arms, and defending them from any attiick of tlio
Indians.

Before harvest time the cottages were all built, and the emigrants
were busy felling round their new habitations, to lay up firewood
for the winter, and clearing away a spot for a garden, and for plant-
ing potatoes in the following spring. The harvest being ripe again,
gave them all full employment ; the corn was got in with great
expedition by the united labour of th:^ soldiers and emigrants, when
the former, having completed their work, returned to the fort, and
the Campbells, with the addition to their colony, were now left alone.
Visiting the emigrants in their own cottages, and making acquaint-
ance with the children, was now a great source of amusement to the
Miss Percivals. Various plans were started relative to establisJiinij;
a Sunday-school and many other useful arrangements; one, however,
took place immediately, which was, that divine service was per-
fortned by Mr. Campbell in his own house and was attended by all
the emigrants every Sunday. Mr. Campbell had every reason to be
pleased with their conduct up to the present time; they all appeared
willing, never murmured or complained at any task allotted to them,
and were satisfied with Mr. Campbell's arrangements relative to
supplies. Parties were now again formed for the chase ; Meredith
and young Graves proved to be good woodsmen and capital shots
with the rifle, so that now they had enough to send out a party on
alternate days, while one or two of the others fished all the day and
salted down as fast as they caught, that there might be a full sn])ply
for the winter.

thirteen, then

nioney enough

and reflecting

" family w(.ul,l

ting the tenijH

a young conpl,,
of a farmer in
between his
and paid tho

a speculative
He nijinicd
ereil with Ruy
is wife u very

'fi<^ populatioi,

w liiadea totiu

thirteen were

' attiick of tho

the enii^Taiita
y up firewood
and for plani-
ng ripe again,
n with great
igrants, when
the fort, aud
ow left alone.
ing acquaint-
lement to the
) establisJiini;
one, however,
ice wjis per-
pended hy all
reason to be
all appeared
ited to them,
3 relative to
3; Meredith
capital shota
b a party on
the day and
. full supply

THK SETTLERS IN CANADA.

2U6

Put although Mr. and Miu Campl)ell and the Misa PercivalH, as
well as the major part of the family were fully satisfied aud happy
in their future prospects, there were four who were in a state of great
anxiety and suspense. These were Alfred, Malachi, Martin, and the
Strawberry, who, being acquainted with the existence of young
Percival, found their secret a source of great annoyance, now that,
notwithstanding the capture and detention of the Young Otter, no
advance appeared to be made for his exchange, nor any signs of an
overture on the pait of the Angry Snake. Captain Sinclair, who
was usually at the farm twice during the week, wjis also much fretted
at finding that every time Malachi and Alfred had no more informa-
tion to give him, than he had to impart to them. They hardly knew
how to act; to let a second winter pass away without attempting to
recover the boy, appeared to them to be delaying too long, and yet
to communicate intelligence which might only end in bitter dis-
appointment, seemed unadvisable; for the Indian chief, out of
revenge, might have killed the boy, and then the grief of the father
and mother would be more intense than before. It would be opening
a wound to no purpose. This question w.is frequently canvassed by
Alfred and Captain Sinclair, but an end was put to all their debates
on the subject by an unexpected occiurence, Mary Percival had one
morning gone down to a place called the Cedar Swamp, about half a
mile from the house to the westward, near to the shore of the lake,
to pick cranberries for preserving. One of the little emigrant girls,
Martha Jackson, was with her ; when one basket was full, Mary
sent it home by the little girl, with directions to come back im-
mediately. The girl did so, but on her return to the Cedar Swamp,
Mary Percival was not to be seen. The basket which she had retained
with her was lying with all the cranberries upset out of it on a hill
by the side of the swamp. The little girl remained for a quarter of
an hour, calling out Miss Percival's name, but not receiving any
answer, she became frightened, imagining that some wild beast had
attacked her ; and she ran back as fast as she could to the house,
acquainting Mr. and Mrs. Campbell with what had happened.
Martin and Alfred were at the mill'; Malachi, fortunately, was at
his own lodge, and Strawberry ran for him, told him what the girl
had reported, and having done so, she looked at Malachi, a d said
" Angry Snake ".

"Yes, Strawberry, that is the case, I have no doubt," replied
Malachi; "but not a word at present; I knew he would be at
something, but I did not think that he dared do that either; how-
ever, we shall see. Go back to the house, and tell Master and
Missis that I have gone down to the Cedar Swamp, and will return
as soon as possible, and do you follow me as fast as you can, for your

il,
■i

1 i

■i 7,

\ ' ' i^

206

THE SKTTLERfl IK CANADA.

uytiri are younger than mine, and \ sli.'ill want the uho uf thcni; toll
them not to Hend anybody el.se, it will do harm instead of good, for
they will trample the ground, and we nmy loae the track."

Malachi caught up his ritle, examined the priming, and set oiT in
the direction of the swainf), while the Strawhorry returned to tlio
houBe to give his mehwago to Mr. and Mrs. Camphell. Leaving Mr.
and Mrs. C.'ampbell, who were in a state of groat alarm, and had sent
the little girl, Martha Jackwon, to summon Alfred and Martin (for
J(»hn and Henry were out iu the woods after the cuttle), the Straw-
berry went down to the Cedar Swamp to join Malachi, whom she
found standing still, leaning on his rille, near the bjiskot which h.ul
contained the cranberries.

"Now, Strawberry, we must find out how many of them ilu're
were, and which way they have gone," said Malachi, iu the Indian
tongue.

"Here," said Strawberry, pointing to a mark on thtj short grass,
which never could have attracted the observation of one unubed U)
an Indian life.

"I see, child; I see that and two more, but we cannot tell nnioh
as yet; let us follo^v up the trail till we come to some upot where wo
may read the print better. That's her foot," continued Malachi,
after they had proceeded two or three yards. " The sole of a shoe
cuts the grass sharper than a moccasin. We have no easy task just
now, and if the othera come, they may prevent ua from finding the
track altogether."

" Here, again," said Strawberry, stooping close to the short dry
grass.

"Yes; you're right, child," replied Malachi. "Let us once follow
it to the bottom of this hill, and then we shall do better."

By the closest inspection and minutest search, Malachi and the
Strawberry continued to follow the almost imperceptible track till
they arrived at the bottom of the hill, about a hundred yards from
where they started. It had become more difficult, as the print of
Mary's foot, which was more easily perceptible than the others, had
served them for a few yanls; after which it was no more to be dis-
tinguished, and it was evident that she had been lifted up from the
ground. This satisfied them that she had been carried olf. When
they arrived at the bottom of the hill, they could clearly distinguish
the print -marks of moccasins, and by measuring very exactly tho
breadth and length of the impressions, made out that they were of
two diflferent people. These they continued to follow till they
arrived at the forest, about a quarter of a mile from the Swamp,
when they heard the hallooing of Alfred and Martin, to which
Malachi answered, and they soon joined him.

THE flRTTI.EUS IN C4UADA.

207

"f tln'Hi; t«<ll
(1 o[ good, f„r
ck."

iiinl set oil* in
turned to Ui«
leaving JVIr.
, and had .sent
'i Martin (for
<-0, the S(r;ivv.
•Iii, whom hIio
ot which h.i.I

'f them flicre
" the Indi.iii

3 short jL,n7i.sH,
lie unnbed to

'ot tell much
[)ot where we
led Maiaclii,
aole of a shoe
asy task just
Q tinding the

he short diy

s once follow

chi and the
)Ie track till

yards from
the print of

others, had
re to be dis-
up from tlie
oil When
distinguish
exactly thi;
ley were of
V till they
he Swamp,
, to which

"What JR it, Malnchi?"

"She haH been carried ofT, I've no doubt," rjplied Mal.ichi, "bj
the Snake. The rascal is detenuiiuMl to have the vantage of us. Wr
have one prisoner, and he has made two."

Malaohi then explained why lie w<ih certain that she had been
carried away, and Martin agreed with him immediat^dy. Alfred
then said—" Well, but now, before we act, let us consult what if
best to be done."

" Well," replied Malachi, " the best to do now, at this moment, ii
for the Strawberry and me to follow the trail, and try if we cannot
obtain more information, and when we have got all we can, we must
form a party, and go in pursuit. Let ua only get fairly on the trail,
and wo will not lose it, especially if the Strawberry is with us, for she
has a better eye than any Indian 1 ever knew, be it man or woman."

" Well, that is all right, IVFalachi; but what shall I do now while
you are following up the traiU"

" Well, you must jjrepare the party, and get them all ready for a
start; for we must be otF in th ee hours, if possible."

"Captain Sinclair had better come with us. He will be quite
frantic if he does not," said Alfred.

" Well, then, perlia])S he h:'-<i," replied Malachi, coldly ; " hut I'd
rather he were away. Ue won't be so cool and calm as he ought to
be."

"Never fear; but I must now go to my father ami mother, and
tell the whole of the circumstances. I nmst tell them that Percival
is alive."

" Why sol" replied Malachi. " It will only fret them more. It's
quite sufficient that they should have to lament Miss Percival being
carried off, without their knowing what fresh cause for anxiety there
is about the boy, I would only say that Miss Mary has been carried
off by somebody, and leave out all about our having captured the
Young Otter, and why we took him."

" Well, perhaps it will be better," said Alfred ; " then I'll leave
Martin here, and ride off to the fort to Captain Sinclair, Shall I
ask for any soldiers?"

" Yes ; if there are any good backwoodsmen among them, we may
find a couple of them of service. We ought to have a larger force
than the Indian; and the latter, if you recollect, is stated at six with
the chief. Now, there are you, Martin, and I, that's three; Captain
Sinclair and two soldiers would be six ; young Graves and Meredith
make eight. That's sufficient; more than sufficient does harm.
Henry must stay, and so must John, because he will not be home
before we are away. I'm sorry for that, as I should have liked him
to be with me."

II .:

208

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

I I

i> "'■

I'T

r',f

i "

" It can't be helped," replied Alfred. "Well, then, Martin and I
will go back at once; in two hours I will return with Captain
Sinclair, if I possibly can."

" As quick as you please, and Martin will get everything ready for
the journey, for we must not tire our rifles if we can help it."

Alfred hastened away, and was soon followed by Martin, to
whom Malachi had given some directions. Malachi and the Straw-
berry then continued to follow the trail, which they traced through
the thickest of the wood for more than an hour, when they came
upon a spot where a fire had been lighted, and the ground trodden
down, evidently showing that the parties had been living there some
time.

"Here wjis the nest of the whole gang," resumed Malachi as he
looked round.

The Strawberry, who had been examining the ground, said:

" Here is her foot again."

" Yes, yes; it's clear enough that two of them have carried her off
and brought her here to where the others were waiting for them,
and from here the whole party have made their start. Now we have
the new trail to find, and that they have taken every care to prevent
us I do not doubt."

The Strawberry now pointed to a mark near where the fire had
been lighted and said, " The moccasin of a squaw."

"Right; then she is with them; so much the better," replied
Malachi, " for, as she sent me that letter, she may serve us still if
she chooses."

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Previous to his starting for the fort Alfred had a hasty communi-
cation with his father and mother, in which he informed them sinij)!/
that it was evident that Mary had been carried off, and that it was
the opinion of Malachi and Martin that the Angry Snake was the
party to be suspected.

"But what cause could he have?" said Emma, weeping.

" Merely to get powder and shot as a reward for bringing her back
again," replied Alfred; "so there is not anything to fear as to her
being ill-treated; but if he has any other reason for what he has
done it is well known that an Indian always respects a female. But
here comes my horse."

"But what are you going to do, Alfred?" said Mrs. Campbell,
who was in a state of great agitation.

" Ride to the fort for assistance, bring Captain Sinclair, and go in

■,ll

UM^Jbiu

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

I, Martin and I
with Captain

thing ready for
tielp it."
by Martin, to
md the Straw-
traced througli
hen they came
round trodden
ing there some

Malachi as he

ud, said:

carried lier off

ting for thenj,

Now we have

are to prevent

e the fire had

Btter," replied
Tve us still if

sty communi-
1 them simply
id that it was
nake was the

fing lier back
ear as to her
what he has
female. But

s. Campbell,

ir, and go in

209

pursuit as fast as we can, Mother. Martin will get all ready by my
return; Malachi is following up the trail with Strawberry. But
there is no time to be lost; I shall soon be back."

Alfred then sprang upon his horse, which Martin had brought to
the door, and galloped away to the fort.

As it may be supposed, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and Emma were
in great distress; this did not, however, prevent them from listening
to Martin, and supplying him with all that he requested, which was
salt pork and other food for their journey, powder and shot for their
rifles, &c. Having specified all that was wanted, Martin then went
oflf to summon young Graves and Meredith; they were soon found,
and when they heard the intelligence were ready in a minute for
departure. After they had been occupied for a little time in dividing
the various articles into different packages, that each might carry his
proportion, Mr. Campbell said:

" Martin, supposing that you and Malachi are correct in your
supposition, where do you think that they will take my poor niece?"

" Right away to their own wigwams, sir," replied Martin.

"Have you any idea how far that may be?" said Mrs. Campbell.

" Yes, Ma'am, I have heard that the Angry Snake's quarters are
about twelve days* journey from this."

" Twelve days' journey ! How far is a journey?"

" As far as a stout man can walk in a day. Ma'am."

"And will my niece have to walk all that way?"

"Why, yes. Ma'am; I don't see how it can be otherwise; I don't
know of the Indians having any horses, although they may have."

" But she cannot walk as far as a man," replied Mrs. Campbell.

" No, Ma'am, and so I suppose they will be twenty days going
instead of twelve."

" Will they ill-treat or ill-use her, Martin?" said Emma.

" No, Ma'am, I shouldn't think they would, although they will
make her walk, and will tie her at night when they stop."

"Poor Mary! what will she suffer!" exclaimed Emma; "and if
you do come up with them, Martin, will they give her up to you?"

"We sha'n't ask their leave, Miss," replied Martin; "we shall
take her."

"But not without bloodshed, Martin," said Mrs. Campbell.

"No, Ma'am, certainly not without blooiished, for either the
Indians must destroy us or we them; if we conquer, not an Indian
will be left alive; and if they master us, it will be about the same
thing, I suppose."

"Heaven protect us, but this is dreadful! I was prepared for
difficulties and annoyances when I came out here," exclaimed Mrs.
Campbell, " but not for such trials as these."

( M 63 ) **

'.,..|[^

i ;

• *, a

Ifl

11.

Bf ! ffi

11''

BmKw K ^ml

wft'' i

Hill H

iP^ '

«-

V M

flw'..''^' ■

wt\

S-'Vl -

1^ 1 1 mt

SJui^' ' i '

\ 1' 11

PEili'

i i. 'i

^''Hifl^'

t 1 *'' • '■■■ ■ i

1 1 i '

'^ii

lil ' ji

■'■1 :-5

■■'f' : ''m \ "

■A'^

■ ii '• 'w

-^4 1 ■ 1 ^

g/r.;]f.l 1 '1 _

' M i '-S

I -:i

u Mi Y- ■

' i -

1 "(. .'

■ '"' ■■'fi

■ . .' ']

fi '■■ '1

■ ■' '.

1 1

i; 1

2 ^P

' ■ •.•> 1'

i I'-

:i 1 y ^ 1

^^1' ^1 1

it.'- •

^^ .1 i

1 ;

■ ■ ■ 1*

■ ij!

|; i

li :/l

r ■.

ill

li-J'. ''^^

r'll'"^!'

1^^

'■ f
1

i '^

i 1 ■

1 '

^Bf^<

■it,

^Bj^

'■'-'^ : ' t t ■

^V^

(

^K^

'kX

vi„ 'i ■

HHH

SIO

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

"Never fear but we'll bring her back, Ma'am," said Martin;
"Malachi is a better Indian than them all, and he'll circumvent
them."

"How do jou mean?"

"I mean, Ma'am, that we will, if possible, fall upon them un-
awares, and then we'll have the advantage, for half of them will he
killed before they know that they are attacked; we'll fight them
Indian fashion. Ma'am."

Mrs. Campbell continued her interrogations till Alfred was seen
at the end of the prairie returning at full speed, accompanied by
Captain Sinclair and two other men, also on horseback.

"Here they come," said Martin; "and they have lost no time,
that's certain."

" Poor Captain Sinclair ! what must be his feelings ! I pity him,"
said Mrs. Campbell.

" He must take it coolly, nevertheless," observed Martin ; " or he
may do more harm than good."

Alfred and Captain Sinclair now dismounted ; they had brought
with them two of the soldiers who were well used to the woods, and
excellent shots, and in a few minutes the party of seven which had
been collected set off to rejoin Malachi md the Strawberry.

Malachi and Strawberry had not been idle; the latter had run
back to their lodge and procured a bow and arrows, and since that
they had tracked the footmarks through the forest for more than a
mile, when they had come to a small rivulet which ran through the
forest. Here the trail was lost, at least it was not to be perceived
anywhere on the opposite side of the rivulet, and it was to be pre-
sumed that, to conceal their trail, the Indiana had walked in the
water, either up or down, for a certain distance before they put their
feet on the other side ; but as it was near the time that they might
expect the arrival of Alfred and the others, Malachi had returned to
the spot where Alfred and Martin had left them, leaving the Straw-
berry to walk down and up the side of the rivulet to recover the
trail. As soon as the party joined him, they and Malachi set off to
where the trail had been lost, and the latter had left the Straw-
berry.

There they waited some time, as the Strawberry was not in sight,
and they took this opportunity of distributing the provisions and
ammunition among them. Captain Sinclair, although his feelings
may well be imagined, was very active in arrangements, and showed
that, if his heart was smitten, his head was clear. The order of the
march was settled by Malachi and him, and as soon as all was
arranged, they waited impatiently for the return of the Indian girl ;
she came at last, and informed them that she had recovered the

said Martin;
11 circumvent

^on them un-

them will be

11 fight thein

fred was seen
ompanied by

lost no time,

I pity him,"

irtin; "or he

had brought
e woods, and
n which had
irry.

fcter had run
ad since that
more than a
through the
be perceived
a^ to be pre-
alked in the
hey put their
b they might
i returned to
J the Straw-
recover the
hi set otF to
the Straw-

not in sight,
)vi8ion8 and
his feelings
and showed
)rder of the
as all was
[ndian girl ;
jovered the

THE SETTLERS IV CANADA.

811

trail about three miles up the course of the stream, and they all
started immediately. As was agreed, they kept perfect silence, and
followed the newly-discovered trail for about a mile, when, on their
arrival at a clear spot in the woods, where the grass was very short
and dry, they were again at fault. They went over to the other side
of this heath, to see if they could again fall in with it, but after half
an hour's search, could not discover it, when they were summoned
by a low whistle from the Strawberry, who had returned to the spot
where the trail had been lost.

" They have turned back again," said the Strawberry, pointing to
the former footmarks ; "see the track of the moccasins is both ways."

"That's true," said Malachi, after a close examination; "now
then. Strawberry, to find out where they have left the old trail
again. I told you," continued Malachi to Alfred, " that the Straw-
berry would be useful ; she has the eye of a falcon."

It was not till another half-hour had elapsed that the spot where
they had left the trail, which, to deceive those who might pursue
them, the Indians had returned upon, was discovered, and then they
started again and proceeded with caution, led by the Strawberry,
until she stopped and spoke to Malachi in the Indian tongue, point-
ing at a small twig broken upon one of the bushes.

" That's true, let s see if it happens again."

In a few moments the Strawberry pointed out another.

" Then all's right," said Malachi, " I said that she could help us
again if she chose, and so she has. The Indian woman who wrote
the letter," continued Malachi, turning to Captain Sinclair and
Alfred, " is our friend still. See, she has, wherever she has dared to
do it without being seen by the Indians, broken down a small twig,
as a guide to us. Now, if she has continued to do this, we shall not
have much trouble."

They continued their course through the woods until the sun went
down and they could see no longer, having made a journey of about
nine miles from the settlement. They then lay down for the night
under a large tree ; the weather was very warm, and they did not
light a fire, as they had some cooked provisions.

The next morning, as soon as it was daylight, they made a hasty
meal and resumed their task. The trail was Jiow pretty clear, and
was occasionally verified by the breaking of a twig, as bef(^re. This
day they made sixteen miles' journey, and at the close of it they
arrived at the borders of a lake about ten miles long, and from one-
and-a-half to two wide ; the trail went right on to the shore of the
lake, and then disappeared.

"Here they must have taken to the water," said Alfred; "but
what means have they had to cross?"

[■

!- ,

! .

[

(

I ;

f'l

i ■ ,

1 H

lii

I f

l> ?

i' v., a

f! ■Ji

I';

a-. ' -

■5 .r * ',1

f J"^

212

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

" That we raust discover, somehow or another," replied Malachi,
" or else we shall not find the trail again ; perhaps, however, we
shall see to-morrow morning; it is too dark now to attempt to find
out, and we may do more harm than good by tracking down the
bank. We must bring to for the night. There is a high rock there
on the beach farther up ; we had better go there, as we can light a
fire behind the rock without being discovered by it, supposing the
Indians are on the opposite shore; and to-night we must cook all
our provisions if we possibly can, for, depend upon it, we have
travelled faster to-day than they can have done with the young lady,
and if we can once get well on the trail again we shall soon be up
with them."

" God grant that we may !" exclaimed Captain Sinclair; "the idea
of what poor Mary must suffer almost drives me mad."

" Yes, she will be terribly foot-sore, I have no doubt," replied
Malachi ; " but the Indians will not treat her ill, depend upon it."

Captain Sinclair sighed, but made no reply.

As soon as they arrived at the mass of rock which Malachi had
pointed out, they all commenced collecting firewood, and the Straw-
berry in a few minutes had a sufficient fire for their purpose. They
had not any cooking utensils with them, but the pork was cut in
slices, and stuck upon the ends of small sticks round the fire, until it
was sufl&ciently cooked, and then it was packed up again in parcels,
with the exception of what was retained for their supper. They
had finished their meal, and were sitting roui 1 the embers of the
fire, conversing, and calculating the probabilities as to their over-
taking the Indians, when Martin sprang up, with his rifle ready to
bring to his shoulder.

"What is it?" said Alfred in a low tone, as Martin held up his
finger as a sign for silence.

"There's somebody coming this way — he is behind that large
tree," said Martin ; " I see his huid now, but it is too dark to make
out who it may be."

As Martin said this, a low and singular sort of whistle between
the teeth was heard, upon which the Strawberry gently put down
Martin's rifle with her hand, saying:

" It is John."

" John ? Impossible ! " said Alfred.

"It is," replied Strawberry. "I know well that whistle. I go to
fetch him. Have no fear."

Strawberry stepped out from the group and went up to the tree,
calling John softly by name, and in a few seconds afterwards re-
turned, leading John by the hand, who, without saying a word,
quietly seated himself down by the fire.

I If

lied Malachi,
however, we
tempt to find
ng down the
jh rock there
e can light a
upposing the
Qust cook all
it, we have
young ladj,
1 soon be up

ir ; " the idea

ubt," replied
1 upon it."

Malachi had
i the Straw-
pose. They
: was cut in
i fire, until it
n in parcels,
ipper. They
nbers of the
• their over-
•ifle ready to

held up his

I that large
ark to make

Jtle between
y put down

tie. I go to

to the tree,
erwards re-
ng a word,

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

213

"Well, John, how did you come here?" exclaimed Alfred.

" Followed trail," replied John.

"But how — when did you leave home?"

" Yesterday," replied John, " when I came back."

" But do your father and mother know that you have come?" said
Captain Sinclair.

"I met old Graves, and told him," replied John. "Have you
any meat?"

" The boy has had nothing since he left, I'll answer for it," said
Martin, as the Strawberry handed some of the pork to John.
"Have you, John?"

" No," replied John, with his mouth full.

" Let him eat," said Malachi, " it's long for a lad to be two days
without food, for I'll answer he left as soon as he heard we were
gone, and did not wait for yesterday's supper. Indeed, he must
have done so, for he must have folKiwed the trail some time yester-
day to be up with us to-night, so let him eat in quiet."

"What surprises me, Malachi, is how he could have found his
way to us."

" Well, I do confess that I'm as much surprised almost as i am
pleased," replied Malachi. "It is really a great feat for a lad to
accomplish all by himself, and I am proud of him for having done
it; but from the first I saw what a cjipital woodsman he would
make, and he has not disappointed me."

" There are not many who would have been able to do it, that's
certain," said Martin ; " I wonder as much as you do, Mr. Alfred,
how he could have done it — but he has the gift."

" But suppose he had not come up with us, how would he have
lived in these woods? It's a mercy that he has fallen in with us,"
said Captain Sinclair.

John slapped the barrel of his rifle, which was lying by him, and
which Captain Sinclair had not perceived.

" You don't think that John would come into the woods without
his rifle, do you?" said Malachi.

" I did not perceive that he had it with him," said Captain Sinclair;
"but I certainly ought to have known John better."

John having finished his supper, they all lay down to rest, one
keeping watch that they might not be surprised.

At daylight they made their breakfast, and then went down
again to the borders of the lake, where the trail had been lost.
After a long examination, Malachi called the Strawberry, and
pointing to the edge of the water, asked her to look there. The
Strawberry did so, and at last decided that there was the mark of
the bottom of a canoe which had been grounded.

r ;

■

1 . '

'',^\

svrt

THB SETTLERS IN OAHADA.

• -^

^ .' t

,U::'

" Yes, I thought so," said Malachi. " They have had their canoe
all ready, and have crossed the water ; now, we must walk quite
round the lake to discover the trail again, and that will give them
half a day's start of us."

They immediately set off coasting the shores of the lake, until they
arrived at the other side, carefully examining the ground as they
went. This took them till noon, by which time they had arrived at
that part of the lake which was opposite to the large rock behind
which they had kindled their fire the night before ; but no traces
were to be perceived.

"They have not crossed over in a straight line," said Captain
Sinclair, " that is evident ; we must now try more to the northward."

This they did, and at last discovered that the canoe had crossed
over to the north point of the lake, having coasted along the eastern
shore the whole way. The spot of landing was very evident, and
for some distance they could trace where the canoe had been hauled
up. It was now late in the afternoon, and it became a question
whether they should follow the trail, or discover the place of con-
cealment of the canoe, as it might be advantageous to know where
it was when they returned. It was decided that they should first
discover the canoe, and this was not done till after a search of two
hours, when they found it concealed in the bushes, about one mile
from the lake. They then followed the trail about two miles; the
twigs had been bent and broken, as before, which was a great help
to them, but the night was now closing in. Having arrived at a
clear knoll, they took up their quarters under the trees and retired
to rest. At daybreak they again started; and, after two hours'
walk, had to track across a small prairie, which gave them some
trouble, but they succeeded in finding the trail on their arrival at
the wood on the opposite side, and then they made a very rapid pro-
gress, for the twigs were now more frequently broken and bent than
before. During this day, with the bow and arrows brought by the
Strawberry, Martin had procured them two wild turkeys, which
were very acceptable, as their provisions would not last more than
seven or eight days longer, and it was impossible to say how far they
would have to travel. It was not far from dark when the quick ears
of the Strawberry were attracted by a noise like that of a person
breathing heavily. She at last pointed with her finger to a bush ;
they advanced cautiously, and on the other side of it they found an
Indian woman lying on the ground, Vjleeding profusely. They raised
her up, and discovered that it was the Indian whom they had cured
of the sprained ankle, and who, they presumed, had been then dis-
covered breaking the twigs that they might follow the trail, for, on
examination, they found that she had received a heavy blow c n the

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

215

their canoe
walk quite
n give them

e, until they
und as they
id arrived at
rock behind
ut no traces

jaid Captain
northward."
had crossed
the eastern
evident, and
been hauled
J a question
3lace of con-
know where
should first
jarch of two
)ut one mile
3 miles; the
a great help
arrived at a
and retired
two hours'
them some
ir arrival at
y rapid pro-
d bent than
light by the
Jeys, which
; more than
ow far they
J quick ears
of a person
to a bush ;
}y found an
They raised
^ had cured
n then dis-
rail, for, on
►low f a the

head with a tomahawk ; but, fortunately, it had glanced sideways,
and not entered into the brain. She was not sensible, however, at
the time that they discovered her, for she had lost a great deal of
blood. They stopped the effusion of blood with bandages torn from
their linen, and poured some water down her throat; it was now
dark, and it was not possible to proceed any farther that night. The
Strawberry went into the woods and collected some herbs, with
which she dressed the wound, and, having made the poor Indian
as comfortable as they could, they again lay down to rest; but not
until Malachi had said to Alfred:

"There is no doubt but that the Indians ha/e discovered this
woman was marking the trail for us, and that they have tomahawked
her for so doing, and have left her for dead. I think myself that
the wound, although it is a very ugly one, is not dangerous, and so
says the Strawberry. However, to-morrow will decide the point; if
she is not sensible then, it will be of no use waiting, but we must go
on as fast as we can."

When they awoke the next morning they found the Strawberry
sitting by the Indian woman, who was now quite sensible and col-
lected, although very weak and exhausted. Malachi and Martin
went to her, and had a long conversation with her. Malachi had
been right in his supposition; the Angry Snake had discovered her
in the act of bending a twig, and had struck her down with his
tomahawk. They gained from her the following information. Tlie
Angry Snake, irritated at the detention of the Young Otter, had
resolved to have another hostage in lieu of him, and had carried oflf
Mary Percival. He had six Indians with him, which were the
whole of his grown-up warriors They were now but one day's
journey ahead of them, as Miss Percival was very sore on her feet,
and they could not get her along, but that in every other respect she
had been well treated. That the Indians were not going to their
lodges in a direct course, but by a circuitous route, which would
make a difference of at least six or seven days ; and that they did
this that they might not be seen by some other tribes who were
located in their direct route, and who might give information. She
said that it was she who had written the Indian letter which
Malachi had received the autumn before, and that she had done it
because she had been so kindly treated by Mr. and Mrs. Campbell
when she had been found in the forest with her ankle sprained.
That Percival was at the Indian lodges, quite well when they left,
and that if the Angry Snake did not receive a large quantity of
powder and shot and a great many rifles in exchange for him, it was
his intention to adopt the boy, as he was very partial to him. On
being asked if the boy was happy, she replied that he was not at

i I

! .

I I

..kdi^^

216

THK SKTTLERS IN CANADA.

■'il?m

first, but now he was almost an Indian ; that he was seldom per-
mitted to leave the lodges, and never unless accompanied by the
Angry Snake. In answer to their questions as to the direction and
distance to the lodges, she said that they were about seven days'
journey by the straight road ; but that the party with Miss Percival
would not arrive there in less than fifteen days, if so soon, as she was
every day less able to travel. Having obtained all this information,
a council was held, and Malachi spoke first, having been requested
so to do.

"My opinion is this," said Malachi, "that we can do no better
than remain h«re at present, and wait till the woman is sufficiently
recovered to travel, and show us the direct road to the lodges. In
two or three days she will probably be well enough to go v/ith us,
and then we will take the direct road, and be there before them.
The knowledge of the place and the paths will enable us to lay an
ambush for them, and to rescue the young lady without much danger
to ourselves. They will have no idea of falling in with us, for they,
of course, imagine the woman is dead ; a tomahawk seldom fails."

After a long parley, the advice of Malachi was considered the
most judicious, and a fu'^ther conversation with the Indian woman
confirmed them in the resolution. As they had no fear of the In-
dians discovering that they were on their trail, Martin and Alfred
went out in pursuit of game for provisions, while the others raised
up a large hut with branches of trees, for the accommodation of the
whole party. In the evening Martin and Alfred returned, carrying
a fine buck between them. The fire was lighted, and very soon all
were busy cooking and eating. The Indian woman also ate, and
her recovery was now no longer considered doubtful.

It-' y •>.'t i 1

^11

CHAPTEK XXXVIII.

It was a great annoyance to Captain Sinclair to have to wait in
this manner, but there was no help for it. He was satisfied that it
was the most prudent course, and therefore raised no objection.
Alfred too was uneasy at the delay, as he was aware how anxious
his father and mother would be during the whole time of their
absence. They were glad, however, to tind that the Indian woman
recovered rapidly, and on the fifth day of their taking up their abode
in the forest, she said that she was able to travel if they walked
slow. It was therefore agreed that on the sixth day they should
start again, and they did so, having saved their salt provisions, that

TnR SETTLERS IN CANADA.

217

they might not be compelled to stop, or uae their rifles to procure
food. The evening before, they roawted as much venison as they
thought they could consume while it was good, and at daylight
again proceeded, not to follow the trail, but, guided by the Indian
woman, in a direct courb<» for the lodges of the ludian band undei
the Angry Snake.

As they had now only to proceed as fast as they could without
tiring the poor Indian woman, whose head was bound up, and who
was still weak from loss of blood, they made a tolerable day's
journey, and halted as before. Thus they continued their route till
the sixth day, when, as they drew up for the night, the Indian
stated that they were only three or four miles from the Indians'
lodges which they sought. Thereupon a council was held as to how
they should proceed, and at last it was agreed upon that they should
be guided by the Indian woman to a spot where they might be con-
cealed as near as possible to the lodges, and that when the party
had arrived there, the woman and Malachi should go and reconnoitre,
to ascertain whether the chief and his band with Mary had returned
or not. The night was passed very impatiently, and without sleep
by most of them, so anxious were they for the morrow. Long before
break of day they again started, advancing with great caution, and
were led by the Indian till they were within one hundred and fifty
yards of the lodges, in a thick cluster of young spruce, which com-
pletely secured them from discovery. Shortly afterwards Malachi
and the Indian woman, creeping on aU fours, disappeared in the
surrounding brushwood, that they might, if possible, gain more intelli-
gence from listening. In the meantime the party had their eyes
on the lodges, waiting to see who should come out as soon aa the
sun rose, for it was hardly clear daybreak when they arrived at their
place of concealment.

They had remained there about half an hour, when they perceived
an Indian lad come out of one of the lodges. He was dressed in
leggings and Indian shirt of deer-skin, and carried in his hand his
bow and arrows. An eagle's feather was stuck in his hair above the
left ear, which marked him as the son of a chief.

" That's my brother Percival," said John in a low tone.

"Percival!" replied Alfred; "is it po.ssible?"

" Yes," whispered the Strawberry, " it is Percival, but don't speak
so loud."

"Well, they have turned him into a regular Indian," said Alfred;
" we shall have to make a pale-face of him again."

Percival, for he it was, looked round for some time, and at last,
perceiving a crow flying over his head, he drew his bow, and the
arrow brought the bird down at his feet.

■ I.

r«

-J^^'

•I >'

i 1*1

818

TnS SETTLSRS IN CANADA.

\h I

"A capital aliot !" said Captain Sinclair; "the boy has learnt some-
thin*^ at all events. You couUl not do tliat, John."

"No," replied John; "but they don't trust him with a rifle."

They waited some little time longer, when an Indian woman, and
then an old man, came out, and in about a quarter of an hour after-
wards three more Momen and an Indian about twenty years old.

"I think we have the whole force now," said Martin.

"Yes, I think so too," replied Captain Sinclair. "I wish Malachi
would come back, for I do not think he will find out more than we
know ourselves."

In about half an hour afterwards Malachi and the Indian woman
returned ; they had crept in the brushwood to within fifty yards of
the lodges, but were afraid to go nearer, as the woman said that
perhaps the do^s might give the .ilarm, for two of them were left at
home. The woman stated her conviction tbat the party had not
come back, and now a council was again held as to their proceedinrja.
The Indian force was nothing — an old man, one lad of twenty, and
four women. These might be easily captured and secured, but the
question Wi^s whether it would be desirable so to do, as in case one
should by any means escape, information of their arrival might be
conveyed to the absent party, and induce them not to come home
with Mary Percival. This question was debated in a low tone
between Malachi, Captain Sinclair, and Alfred. At last John inter-
rupted them by saying, " They are going out to hunt, the old and
the young Indian and Percival — they have all their bows and
arrows."

" The boy is right," said Malachi. " Well, I consider this to
decide the question. We can now capture the men without tlie
women knowing anything about it. They will not expect them
home till the evening, and even if they do not come, they will not
be surprised or alarmed ; so now we had bettei let them go some
way, and then follow them. If we secure them, we can then decide
what to do about the women."

This was agreed upon, and Malachi explained their intentions
to the Indian woman, who approved of them, but said, "The Old
Raven (meaning the old Indian) is very cunning; you must be
careful."

The party remained in their place of concealment for another
quarter of an hour, till the two Indians and Percival had quitted
the open space before the lodges and had entered the woods. They
^/heu followed in a parallel direction, Malachi and John going ahead,
Martin and Alfred following so as to keep them in sight, and the
remainder of the party at about the same distance behind Martin
and Alfred. They continued in this manner their course through

learnt

Tni5 SETTLE Ud IN CANADA.

sotne>

|a rifle."

woman, and
jn hour after-
(years old.

^isli Malachj
lore than we

pdian woman
fifty yards of
lan said tliat
n were left at
>arty had not
jr proceed in rrg.
|f twenty, and
ured, but the
IS in case one
val might be
o come home
n a low tone
st John inter-
t, the old and
eir bows and

isider this to
1 without the
expect them
they will not
liem go some
n then decide

ir intentions
d, "The Old
'^ou must be

for another
had quitted
oods. They
?oing ahead,
?ht, and the
lind Martin
rso through

the woods for more than an Ijour, when a herd of deer darted past
Maiachi and John. 'J'hey imnu-.liately stopped and crouched, to
hide themselves. Martin and Alfred, perceiving this, followed their
example, and the rest of the party behind, at the motion of the
Strawberry, did the same. Hardly had they «lone so when one of
the herd, which had been ])ierced by an arrow, followed in the
direction of the rest, and after a few bounds fell to the earth. A
minute or two afterwards the hunters made their appearance and
stood by the expiring beast, where they remained for a minute or
two talking, and then took out their knives to flay and cut it up.
While they were thus employed, Maiachi and Joiin on one side,
Alfred and Martin from another direction, and the rest of the party
from a third, were creeping slowly up towards them ; but to sur-
round them completely it was necessary that the main ])arty should
divide, and send one or two more to the eastward. Captain Sin-
clair despatched Graves and one of the soldiers, desiring them to
creep very softly till they arrived at a spot he pointed out, and then
to wait for the signal to be given.

As the parties gradually approached nearer and nearer to the
Indiana and Percival, the Old Haven appeared to be uneasy, he
looked round and round him, and oL'^.e or twice laid his ear to the
ground; whenever he did this, they all stopped, and almost held
their breaths.

"The Indian woman says that the Old Raven is suspicious; he is
sure that someone is in the woods near him, and she thinks that she
had better go to him," said the Strawberry to Captain Sinclair.

" Let her go," said Captain Sinclair.

The Indian rose and walked up in the direction of the Indiana,
who immediately turned to her as she ap])roached. She sjKike to
them, and aj)peared to be telling them how it was that she returned.
At all events, she occupied the attention of the Old Raven till the
parties were close to them, when Maiachi arose, and iumiediately all
the others did the same, and rushed upon them. After a short and
useless struggle they were secured, but not before the younger
Indian had wounded one of the soldiers by stal>bing him with hia
knife. The thongs v/ere already fast round the arms and legs of
the Indians, when Percival, who had not been tieil, again attem[)ted
to escape, and by the direction of Maiachi he was bound as well as
the other two.

As soon as the prisoners w^ere secured, Martin and Graves and the
soldiers employed themselves cutting up the venison and preparing it
for dinner, while the Strawberry and the Indian woman were collect-
ing wood for a fire. In the meanwhile Captain Sinclair, Alfred,
Maiachi, and John were seated by the prisoners, and directing their

''^i

I 1

220

THR SETTLERS IN CANADA.

attention to Percival, whom tliey had been compelled to bind, that
he might not make his eocape ; for his sojourn of nearly two years in
the woods with the Indiana, without seeing the face of a white man,
had wholly obliterated, for the time, his recollections of his former
life — 80 rapid is our falling ofT to the savage state. To the questions
of Alfred he returned no reply, and appeared not to understand him.

" Let me try him," said Malachi, "1 will speak to him in the Indian
tongue, he has perhaps forgotten his own. It's wonderful how soon
we return to a state of nature when we are once in the woods."

Malachi then spoke to Percival in the Indian language; Percival
listened for some time, and at last replied in the same tongue.

" What <loe8 he say, Malachi ?" said Alfred.

" He says he will sing his own death song ; that he is the son of a
warrior, and he will die like a brave."

" Why, the boy is metamorphosed," said Captain Sinclair. " Is it
possible that so short a time could have produced this ? "

" Yes," replied Malachi ; " in young people a very short time will
change them thus, but it won't last long. If he were to meet again
with his mother at the settlement, he would by degrees forget liin
Indian life and become reconciled ; a woman has more effect than a
man. Let the Strawberry speak to him. You see he is bound, and
considers himself a captive, and let him loose we must not, until we
have done our work ; after that, there will be no fear, and when he
has been with us a short time he will come all right again."

Malachi called the Strawberry, and told her to speak to Percival
about his home and his mother, and everything connected with the
farm.

The Strawberry sat down by Percival, and in her soft tones talked
to him in her own tongue of his father and mother, of his cousins, and
how he had been taken by the Indians when he was hunting, how
his mother had wept for him, and all had lamented his loss; running
on in a low musical key from one thing to another connected and
associated with his former life in the settlement, and it was evident
that at last he now listened with attention. The Strawberry con-
tinued to talk to him thus for more than an hour, when Alfred
again addressed him and said, "Percival, don't you know me'i"

" Yes," replied Percival in English, "I do ; you are my brother
Alfred."

" All's right now," said Malachi ; "only he must be kept fast ; but
the lad's coming to his senses again. The Strawberry will talk to
him again by and by."

They then sat down to their meal ; the two Indians were removed
to a distance under the guard of one of the soldiers, but Percival re-
mained with them. John sat by Percival, and, cutting off a tempting

(j^llyyi^yy^

TUK SKTTLEIUI IN CANADA.

221

[to bind, that

two years in

white man,

^f his former

the questions

lerstand him.

|in the Indian

rul how BOOH

Iwoods."

^ge; Percival
)ngue.

the son of a

clair.

"Is it

ort time will

o meet again

iea forget liia

effect than a

is bound, and

not, until we

'and when he

uin."

k to Percival
uted with the

; tones talked
i cousins, and
lunting, how
588; running
•nnected and
was evident
wberry con-
vhen Alfred
V me i"
niy brother

pt fast ; but
will talk to

>re removed

Percival re-

a tempting

bit of venison, held it to his mouth, saying to him, "Percival, wli«n
we go home again your hands shall be untied, and you shall have a
rifle of your own instead of a bow and arrows; couie, eat this."

Til is was a long speech for .)ohn, but it produced its effect, for
Percival opened his mouth for the venison, and buiiig fed by John,
made a very good dinner. As soon as tlieir meal was over, they con-
sulted as to what steps should next be taken. The question discussed
was whether they should now capture the women who were left in the
lodges, or remain quiet till the Angry Snake and his party arrived]

Malachi's opinion was as follows : —

" I think we had at all events better wait till to-morrow; you see,
the women will not be at all surprised at the hunting party not re-
turning for even a day or two, as they know that they will not return
without game, and may not find it immediately; their absence, there-
fore, will create no suspicion of our being here. I think we should
return to our formeir place of concealment, and watch their motions.
There is no saying when the party with Miss Percival may return;
they may have arrived while wo have been away, or they may come
to-morrow. It will be better, therefore, not to encumber ourselves
with more prisoners unless it is necessary ."

This opinion was at lasc assented to, and they set off on their re-
turn to the Indian lodges. They arrived about an hour before dusk
at their hiding-place, having taken the precaution to gag the two
Indians for fear of their giving a whoop as notice of their capture.
Percival was very quiet, and had begun to talk a little with John.

Scarcely had they been five minutes again concealed among the
spruce fir trees, when they heard a distant whoop from the woodn on
the other side of the lodges.

" They are now coming on," said Martin ; " that is their signal.'

One of the Indian women from the lodges returned the whoop.

" Yes, they are coming," said Malachi. " Pray, Captain Sinclair,
be quiet and sit down ; you will ruin all our plans,"

" Down, Sinclair, I beg," said Alfred.

Captain Sinclair, who was very much excited, nevertheless did as
he was requested.

" Oh, Alfred ! " said he ; " she's so near."

" Yes, my good fellow, but if you wish her nearer you must be
prudent."

" True, very true," replied Captain Sinclair.

In about half an hour more the Angry Snake and his party were
seen to emerge from the woods, and it was perceived that four of the
Indians carried a litter made of branches between them.

"She could walk no further," said Malachi to Captain Sinclair,
"so they are carrying her; I told you that they would not hurt her."

If't

,! I

/.hi

222

THE SETTLERS IIT CAVADA.

I >•

■im

;» »

j. ,ii^

'■^^'

¥}'.'■■ I • '

;i ■ M

J- J

f^i l'\ I

;J|

** Let me once see her get out of the litter and I shall be satisfied,"
replied Captain Sinclair.

The Indians soon were over the clearing, and stopped at one of the
lodges; Mary Percival was lifted out, and was seen to walk with
dijQSculty into the wigwam, followed by two of the Indian women.

A short parley took place between the Angry Snake and the other
two women, and the chief and the rest of the party then went into
another lodge.

"All's right so far," observed Malachi; "they have left her to the
charge of the two women in a lodge by herself, and so there will be
no fear for her when we make the attack, which I think we must do
very shortly, for if it is quite dark some of them may escape, and
may trouble us afterwards."

" Let us do it immediately," said Captain Sinclair.

"No, not immediately; we have yet an hour and a half daylight.
"We will wait one hour, for I think that as they have nothing to eat,
and are pretty well tired from carrying Miss Percival, they will, in
all probability, go to sleep, as Indians always do. An hour hence
will be the best time for us to fall upon them."

"You are right, Malaclii," replied Alfred. " Sinclair, you must
curb your impatience."

"I must, I believe," replied Captain Sinclair; "but it will be a
tedious hour for me. Let us pass it away in making our arrange-
ments ; we have but six to deal with."

" And only two rifies," replied Alfred ; " so we are pretty sure of
success."

" We must watch first," said Martin, " to see if they all continue
in the same lodge, for if they divide, we must arrange accordingly.
Who will remain with the prisoners 1"

" I won't," said John, in a j)ositive manner.

" You must, John, if it is decided that you do," said Alfred.

" Better not," replied Malachi ; " for as soon as the boy hears the
crack of the rifles he will leave his prisoners and join us ; that I'm
sure of. No, the Strawberry can be left with the prisoners. I'll
give her my hunting-knife ; that will be sufficient."

They remained for about half an hour more watching the lodges,
but everything appeared quiet, and not a single person came out.
Having examined the priming of the rifles, every man was directed
to take up a certain position, so as t( surrouud the buildings and
support each other. John was appointed to the office of looking
after his cousin Mary, and preventing the women from escaping with
her from the lodge in which she was confined ; and John took this
office willingly, as he considered it one of importance, although it
had been given him more with a view that he might not be exposed

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

223

[l be satisfied,"

at one of the

I to walk with

iian women.

J and the other

■hen went into

[left her to the

there will be

|ik we must do

ay escape, and

half daylight,
lothing to eat,
I, they will, in
in hour hence

lair, you must

it it will be a
? our arrange-
pretty sure of

}y all continue
e accordingly.

I Alfred,
boy hears the
us; that I'm
>riaouers. I'll

rig the lodges,
Jon came out.
1 was directed
3uildings and
ce of lookius:
i?scaping with
)hn took this
?, although it
)t be exposed

to danger. Leaving the prisoners to the charge of the Strawberry,
who, with her knife drawn, stood over them, ready to act upon the
slightest attempt at escape on their part, the whole party now crept
softly towards the lodges by the same path as had been taken by
Malachi and the Indian woman. As soon as they had all arrived
they waited for a few minutes, while Malachi reconnoitred, and when
they perceived that he did so, they all rose up and hastened to their
allotted stoiions round the lodge into which the Angry Snake and
his followers had entered. The Indians appeared to be asleep, for
everything remained quiet.

" Let us first lead Miss Percival away to a place of safety," whis-
pered Captain Sinclair.

" Do you do it, then," said Alfred ; " there are plenty of us without
you."

Captain Sinclair hastened to the lodge in which Miss Percival had
been placed, and opened the door. Mary, as soon as she beheld
Captain Sinclair, uttered a loud scream of delight, and, rising from
the skins on which she had been laid, fell upon his neck. Captain
Sinclair caught her in his arms, and was bearing her ort of the lodge
when an Indian woman caught him by the coat; but .?ohn, who had
entered, putting the muzzle of his rifle into their faces, they let go
and retreated, and Captain Sinclair bore away Mary in his arms into
the brushwood, where the Strawberry was standing over the Indian
prisoners. Mary's scream had roused the Indians, who, after their
exhaustion and privations, were in a sound sleep; but still no move-
ment was to be heard in the lodge, and a debate between Malachi
and Alfred whether they should enter the lodge or not was put an
end to by a rifle being fired from the lodge, and the fall of one of the
soldiers. Another shot followed, and Martin received a bullet in his
shoulder, and then out bounded the Angry Snake, followed by his
band, the chief whirling his tomahawk and springing upon Malachi,
while the others attacked Alfred and Martin, who were nearest to
the door of the lodge. The rifle of Malachi met the breast of the
Angry Snake as he advanced, and the contents were discharged
through his body. The other Indians fought desperately, but the
whole of the attacking party closing in, they were overpowered.
Only two of them, however, were taken alive, and these were seri-
ously wounded. They were tied and laid on the ground.

" He was a bad man," said Malachi, who was standing over the
body of the Indian chief; "but he will do ^"> more mischief."

"Are you much hurt, Martin?" inquired Alfred.

" No, not much ; the ball has passed right through and touched no
bone; so I am in luck. I'll go to the Strawberry and get her to bind
it up."

J. i

' n i.

.;i

I i

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA^

\i'-\

' i

' i 2

"He is quite dead," said Graves, who was kneeling by the side of
the soldier who had been shot by the first rifle.

" Poor fellow !" exclaimed Alfred. " Well, I'm not sorry that they
commenced the attack upon us ; for I do not know whether I could
have used my rifle unless they had done so."

" They never expected quarter," said Malachi.

" I suppose not. Now, what are we to do with the women ? They
can do no harm.

" Not much; but, at all events, we must put it out of their power.
We must take possession of all the weapons we can find in the lodges.
We have their two rifles; but we must collect all the bows and
arrows, tomahawks, and knives, and either destroy or keep posses-
sion of them. John, will you lock to that? Take Graves with you."

" Yes," replied John, who, with Graves, immediately commenced
his search of the lodges.

The two women who had been in the lodge with Mary had re-
mained where they were, as John's rifle had kept them from leaving
the lodge ; but the other two had escaped into the woods during the
affray. The others were told that they might go away, if they
would ; and, as soon as they heard this from Malachi, they followed
the example of their companions. John and Graves brought out all
the arms they could find, and Malachi and Alfred then went to the
bushes to which Mary and Sinclair had previously retired. Alfred
embraced his cousin, who was still too greatly agitated to say mucli,
being almost overpowered by the sudden transition in all her
thoughts and feelings: — and, in the variety of her emotions, perhaps
the most bewildering was that occasioned by the reappearance of
Percival — like a restoration from the dead. Alfred was in consulta-
tion with Malachi when he perceived the flames bui-stitig out of the
lodges. Martin, as soon as his wound was dressed, had returned and
set fire to them.

" It's all right," said Malachi ; "it will leave the proof of our vic-
tory, and be a caution to other Indians."

"But what will become of the women?"

" They will join soiue other band, and tell the story. It i" better
tliat thev should."

" And our prisoners, wliat shall we do with them?"

" Release them ; by and by, we shall have nothing to fear from
them; but we will first take them two or three days' march into
the woods."

"And the wounded Indians?"

"Must be left to Providence. We cannot take them. We will
leave them provisions and water. The women w^ll come back and
find them ; if they are alive, they will look after them ; if dead, bury

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

225

5y the side of

frry that they
[ether I could

)men? They

their power.

in the lodges.

ihe bows and

keep posses-

es with you."

y commenced

Vlary had re-
from leaving
ds during the
way, if they
they followed
rought out all
n went to the
tired. Alfred
i to say much,
n in all her
tions, perhaps
appearance of
8 in conaulta-
»^g out of the
returned and

of of our vic-

It b better

to fear from
march into

0. We will
ne back and
f dead, bury

them. But here comes John, with some bears' skins which he has
saved for Miss Mary; that was thoughtful of the boy. As soon as
the flames are down we will take up our quarters in the clearing,
and set a watch for the night; and to-morrow, with the help of
God, we will commence our journey back. We shall bring joy to
your fathei and mother, and the sooner v;e do it the better ; for they
must be anything but comfortable at our long absence."

"Yes," said Mary: "what a state of suspense they must be in!
Truly, as the Bible saith, 'Hope deferred maketh the heart sick'."

CHAPTER XXXIX

Not one of the party slept much on this night. There was much
to do, and much to be looked after. Captain Sinclair, as it may by
supposed, was fully occupied with Mary, of whom more anon. As
soon as they had taken up their posiuon in the clearing, and made
arrangements for the accommodation of Mary, they relieved the
Strawberry from her charge of the prisoners, whom they brought to
the clearing and made to sit down close to them. Percival, who had
not yet been freed from his bonds, was now untied and suffered to
walk about, one of the men keeping close to him and watching him
carefully. The first object which caught his eye was the body of
the Angry Snake. Percival looked on it for some time, and then
sat down by the side of it. There he remained for more than two
hours without speaking, when, a hole having been dug out by one of
the party, the body was put in and covered up. Percival remained
a few minutes by the side of the grave, and then turned to the two
wounded Indians. He brought them water, and spoke to them in
the Indian tongue ; but while he was still with them, Mary sent for
him to speak with him, for as yet she had scarcely seen him. The
sight of Mary appeared to have a powerful efTect upon the boy ; he
listened to her as she soothed and caressed him, and appearing to be
overcome with a variety of sensations, he lay down, moiiued, and at
last fell fast asleep.

The soldier who had been shot by the Angry Snake was buried
before they buried the chief. Martin's wound had been dressed by
his wife, who was very skilful in Indian surgery. She lad previously
applied cataplasms, made from the bruised leaves which she and the
Indian woman had sought for, to the feet of Mary, which were in a
state of great inflammation, and Mary had found herself already
much relieved by the application. Before the day dawned, the two

(M63) ^

it ,1
I' *

286

THB SBTTLERS IN CANADA.

. M :■■

I' n

Indians who had been wounded were dead, and were buried by the
side of the chief.

Alfred and Malachi had resolved to set off the next morning on
their return home, if they found it possible to convey Mary ; but
their party waa now reduced, and Martin was incapable of service.

They were now only six effective men, as John could not be
of much use in carrying, and, moreover, was appointed to watch
Percival. Then they had the two prisoners to take charge of, so
that they were somewhat embarrassed. Malachi, however, proposed
that they should make a litter of boughs, welded together very tight,
and suspended on a pole, so as to be carried between two men.
Mary was not a very great weight, and, by relieving each other
continually, they would be able to get some miles every day, till
Mary was well enough to walk with them. Alfred assented to this,
and as soon as it was daylight went into the woods with Malachi,
to assist him in cutting the boughs. On their return they found
that all the rest of the party were up, and that Mary felt little or no
pain. They made their breakfast on their salt provisions, and as
soon as their meal was over they put Mary upon the litter and set
off, taking the Indian prisoners with them.

The first day they made but a few miles, as they were obliged to
stop that they might procure some fo( I; the party were left under a
large tree, which was a good land-mark, under the charge of Captain
Sinclair, while Malachi and Alfred went in search of game. At
nightfall they returned with a deer which they had killed, when the
Strawberry informed them that the Indian woman had told her that
about two miles to the southward there was a river which ran into
the lake, and that there were iwo canoes belonging to the band,
hauled up in the bushes on the beach ; that the river was broad and
swift, and would soon take them to the lake, by the shores of which
they could paddle the canoe to the settlement. This appeared
worthy of consideration, as it would in the end, perhaps, save time,
and at all events allow Mary to recover. They decided that they
would go to the river and take the canoes.

The next morning, guided by the Indian woman, they set off in
the direction of the river, an I arrived at it in the afternoon. They
found the canoes, which were large and in good order, and having
carried them down to t' e beach, they resolved to put off their
embarkation till the following day, as they were again in want of
provisions. Alfred, Malachi, and John went out this time, for
Percival had shown himself so quiet and contented, and had gradu-
ally become so fond of being near Mary, that he appeared to have
awakened from his Indian dream, and renewed all his former asso-
ciations. They did not, therefore, think it necessary to watch him

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

[uried by the

morning on
Mary; but
of service,
iould not be
*d to watch
iharge of, so
er, proposed
T very tight,
n two men.
^ each other
ery day, till
uted to this,
^ith Malachi,
they found
It little or no
sions, and as
litter and set

re obliged to
i left under a
ge of Captain
)f game. At
led, when the
told her that
bicli ran into
to the band,
as broad and
)res of which
tiis appeared
)s, save time,
ed that they

ey set off in
tioon. They

and having
ut off their
I in want of
is time, for

had gradu-
red to have
former asso-

watch him

227

any more— indeed, he never would leave Mary's side, and began now
to ask many questions, which proved that he had recalled to mind
much of what had been forgotten during his loug sojourn with the
Indians. The hunters returned, having been very Bucceasful, and
loaded with meat enough to last for four or five days. At daylight
the next morning they led the prisoners about half a mile into the
woods, and, pointing to the north as to the direction they were to go,
cast loose the deer-thongs which coufiued theai, and set them at
liberty. Having done this, they embarked in the canoes, and were
soon gliding rapidly down the stream.

The river upon which they embarked, at that time little known
to the Europeans, is now called the river Thames, and the town
built upon it is named London. It falls into the upper part of
Lake Erie, and is a fine rapid stream. For three days they paddled
their canoes, disembarking at night to sleep and cook their provi-
sions, and on the fourth they were compelled to stop, that they
might procure more food. They were successful, and on the next
day they entered the lake, about two hundred miles to the west of
the settlement.

Mary was now quite recovered, and found her journey or voyage
delightful. The countiy was in full beauty ; the trees wav,^d their
boughs down to the river aide, and they did not fall in wiih any
Indians, or perceive any lodges on the Imnk. Sometimes they started
the deer which had come down to drink in the stream, and on one
occasion, as they rounded a point, they fell in with a herd which
were in the water swimming across, and in this position they de-
stroyed as many as served them for food till they arrived at the
settlement.

Percival was now quite reconciled to his removal from an Indian
life, and appeared most anxious to rejoin his father and mother, of
whom he talked incessantly ; for ha had again recovered his English,
which, strange to say, although he perfectly understood it when
spoken to, he had almost forgotten to pronounce, and at first spoke
with difficulty. The weather was remarkably fine, and the waters of
the lake were so smooth that they made rapid progress. The only
annoyance they had was from the mosquitoes, which rose in clouds
as soon as they landed, and were not to be dispei-sed until they had
lighted a very large fire, accompanied with thick smoke: but this
was a trifle compared with their joy at the happy deliverance of the
prisoners, and the success of their expedition.

On the sixth day, in the forenoon, they were delighted to perceive
Fort Frontignac in the distance, and although the house at the
settlement was hid from their sight by the point covered with wood
which intervened, they knew that they were not above four or five

I ; i, i;

! ! ►

! 'f:-

t i

(

:,J./

228

TH£ SETTLERS IN CANADA.

'H¥\

'. .r

M
ll

•I. h

miles distant. In less than another hour they were abreast of the
prairie, and landed at the spot where their own punt was moored.
Mr. and Mrs. Campbell had not perceived the canoes, for, although
anxiously looking out every day for the return of the party, their
eyes and attention were directed on land, not having any idea of
their return by water.

' My dear Alfred," s;iid Mary, " I do not think it will be prudent
to let my aunt see Percival at once; we must prepare her a little for
his appearance. She has so long considered him as dead, that the
shock may be too great."

"You say true, my dear Mary. Then wt will go forward with
Captain Sinclair, and Malachi, and John, Let Percival be put in the
middle of the remainder of the party, who must follow afterwards,
and then be taken up to Malachi's lodge. He can remain there with
the Strawberry until we come and fetch him."

Having made this arrangement, to which Percival was with diffi-
culty made to agree, they walked up, as proposed, to the house.
Outside of the palisade, they perceived Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, with
their backs towards them, looking towards the forest, in the direction
which the party had taken when they left. But when they were
half-way from the beach, Henry came out with Oscar from the cottage,
and the dog immediately perceiving them, bounded to them, barking
with delight. Henry cried out, " Father — Mother, here they are —
here they come ! " Mr. and Mrs. Campbell of course turned round
and beheld the party advancing; they flew to meet them, and as
they caught Mary in their arms all explanation was for the time
unnecessary — she was recovered, and that was sufiicient for the
time.

" Come, Mother, let us go into the house, that you may compose
yourself a little," said Alfred — that she might not perceive Percival
among the party that followed at a little distance. " Let me support
you. Take my arm."

Mrs. Campbell, who trembled very much, did so, and thus turned
away from the group among whom Percival was walking. Emma
was looking at them attentively, and was about to exclaim, when
Captain Sinclair put his finger to his lips.

As soon as they arrived at the house, and had gone in, Alfred in
a few words gave them an account of what had passed — how suc-
cessful they had been in their attempt, and how little they had to
fear from the Indians in future.

"How grateful I am!" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell. "God be
praised for all his mer'^ies ! I was fearful that I should have lost
you, my dear Mary, as welj a^ my poor boy. He is lost for ever —
but Good's will be done ! ''

"''fiiyiinin:.

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

229

" It is very strange, Mother," said Alfred, " but we heard, on our
journey, that the Indians had found a white boy in the woods."

" Alas ! not mine."

" I hare reason to believe that it was Percival, my dear Mother,
and have hopes that he is yet alive."

" My dear Alfred, do not say so unless you have good cause ; you
little know the yearnings of a mother's heart ; the very suggestion
of such a hope has thrown me into a state of agitation and nervous-
neas of which you can form no conception. I have been reconciled
to the Divine will; let me not return to a state of anxiety and
repining."

" Do you think, my dear Mother, that T would raise such hopes if
I had not good reason to suppose that they would be realized? No,
my dear Mother, I am not so cruel."

"Then you know that Percival is alive?" said Mrs. Campbell,
seizing Alfred by the arm.

" Calm yourself, my dear Mother, I do know — I am certain that
he is alive, and that it was he who was found by the Indians ; and I
have great hopes that we may recover him."

"God grant it! God grant it in his great mercy!" said Mrs.
Campbell: "My heart is almost breaking with joy: may God sustain
me ! Oh, where is— my dear Alfred— where is he?" continued Mrs.
Campbell. Alfred made no reply, but a flood of tears came to her
relief.

" I will explain it to you when you are more composed, my dear
Mother. Emma, you have not said one word to me."

"I have been too much overjoyed to speak, Alfred," replied
Emma, extending her hand to him ; " but no one welcomes your
return more sincerely than I do, and no one is more grateful to you
for having brought Mary back."

"Mow, Alfred, I am calm," said Mrs. Campbell, "so let me hear
at once all you know."

" I see you are calm, my dear Mother, and I therefore now tell
you that Percival is not far off."

" Alfred, he is here ! I am sure he is."

"He is with Malachi and the Strawberry; in a minute I will

bring him."

Alfred left the house ; the intelligence was almost too overpower-
ing for Mrs. Campbell. Mary and Emma hastened to her, and
supported her. In another minute Alfred returned with Percival,
and the mother embraced and wept over her long-lost child— and
then gave him to his father's arms.

"How thia has happened, and by what merciful interference he
has been preserved and restored to us," said 7jlr. Campbell, when

I r

__^iw

',' t.

III':.

■■if

S30

THS BSTTLIRS U CANADA.

their first emotions were oyer, "we hare jet to leam. Bat one
thing we do know, and are sure of, that it is by the goodness of Qod
alone. Let us return our thanks while our hearts are yet warm with
gratitude and love, and may our thanksgivings be graciously received."

Mr. Campbell knelt down, and his example was followed by all
the rest of the party assembled. In a fervent tone he returned
thanks for the recent mercies vouchsafed to his family, which, he
expressed a hope, would never be forgotten, but would prove a
powerful inducement to them all to lead a more devout life of faith
in Him who had so graciously supported them in the hour of peril
and affliction — who had so wonderfully restored to them their lost
treasures, and turned all their gloom into sunshine — filling their
hearts with joy and gladness.

''And now, my dear Alfred," said Mrs. Campbell, whose arms
still encircled the neck of Percival, " do pray tell us what has taken
place, and how you recovered Mary and this dear boy."

Alfred then entered into his detail, first stating the knowledge
which Captain Sinclair, Malachi, and himself had of Percival being
still in existence from the letter written by the Indian woman— the
seizure and confinement of the Young Otter in consequence, which
was retaliated by the abduction of Mary. When he had finished,
Mr. Campbell said :

"And poor Martin, where is he, that I may thank himl"

" He is at his own lodge, with the Strawberry, who is dressing his
wound ; for we have not been able to do so for two or three days,
and it has become very painful."

"We owe him a large debt of gratitude," said Mr. Campbell;
" he has suffered much on our aocount. And your poor man, Captain
Sinclair, who fell ! "

** Yes," replied Sinclair, " he was one of our best men — but it was
the will of Heaven. He lost his life in the recovery of my dear
Mary, and I shall not forget his wife and child, you may depend
upon it.*

" Now, Mary, let us have your narrative of what passed when you
were in company of the Indiana, before your rescue."

"I was, as you know, gathering the cranberries in th« Cedar
Swamp, when I was suddenly seized, and something was thrust
against my mouth, so that I had no time or power to cry out. My
head was then wrapt up in some folds of blanket, by which I was
almost suffocated, and I was then lifted up and borne away by two
or three men. For a time I kept mj sencea, but at last the suffoca-
tion was so great that my head swam, and I believe I fainted, for I
do not recollect being put do^n; yet after a time I found myself
lying under a tree, and surrounded by five or six Indians, who were

THB SETTLERS IN CANADA.

231

Bat oDe
fas of God
>^»rm with
[received."
fed by all
returned
[which, he
prove a
fe of faith
ir of peril
I their lost
fling their

lofle arma
[hag taken

:nowledge

[ival being

)man— the

ice, which

finished,

i»

ressing his
hree days,

Campbell ;
n, Captain

)ut it was

my dear

y depend

«vhen you

!• Cedar
IS thrust
ut. My
2h I was
7 by two
suffoca-
Bd, for I
I myself
ho were

■quatted round me. I was not a little terrified, w you may imagine.
They neither moved nor spoke for some time ; I endeavoured to rise,
but a hand on my shoulder kept me down, and I did not attempt a
uselesa resistance. Soon afterwards an Indian woman brought me
some water, and I immediately recognized her as the one whom we
had succoured when we found her in the woods. This gave me
courage and hope, though her countenance was immovable, and I
could not perceive, even by her eyes, that she attempted any recog-
nition ; but reflection convinced me that, if she intended to help me,
she was right in so doing. After I had raised myself, and drunk
some water, the Indians had a talk in a low voice. I observed that
they paid deference to one, and from the description wliich my father
and Alfred had given of the Angry Snake, I felt sure that it was he.
We remained about half an hour on this spot, when they rose, and
made signs to me that I was to come with them. Of course I could
io no otherwise, and we walked till night came on, when I was, as
jou may imagine, not a little tired. They then left me with the
Indian woman, retiring a few yards from me. The woman made
signs that I was to sleep, and although I thought that was impossible,
I vaa so much fatigued that, after putting up my p.'ayers to the
Alnighty, I had not lain down many minutes before I was fast
asleep.

" Before daylight, I was awakened by their voices, and the woman
brought me a handful of parched Indian corn ; not quite so good a
breakfast as I had been accustomed to ; but I was hungry, and I
contrived to eat it. As soon as the day broke we set off again, and
towards evening arrived at a lake. A canoe was brought out from
some bushes ; we all got into it, and paddled up along the banks for
two or three hours, when we disembarked and renewed cur journey.
My feet were now becoming very sore and painful, for they were
blistered all over, and I could scarcely get along ; they compelled me,
however, to proceed, not using any great force, but still dragging me
and pushing me, to make me keep up with them. I soon perceived
that I was a prisoner only, and not likely to be ill treated if I com-
plied witL their wishes. Towards evening I could hardly put one
foot before the other, for they had obliged me to walk in the water
of a strear i for two or thrpe miles, and my shoes were quite worn out
in consequ ;Qce. At night they again stopped, and the Indian woman
prepared some herbs, and applied them to my feet. This gave me
great relief, but still she continued to take no notice of any sir^as I
made to her. The next morning I found I had received so much
benefit from the application of the herbs, that for the first half of
the day I walked on pretty well, and was a little in advance, when,
hearing the chief speak m an angry tone behind me, I turned round,

■ I

i I;

232

TUB SETTLBR8 IN CANADA.

fe'-'H

■ ■' ^■

i;i : ,

and, to my horror, saw him raise his tomahawk and strike down the
poor Indian woman. I could not refrain from hastening to her ; but
I had just time to perceive that her skull was cloven, and that she
was, as I imagined, dead, when I was dragged away and forced to
continue my journey. You may imagine how my blood curdled at
this scene, and how great were now my apprehensions for myself.

" Why I had been carried away 1 knew not, for I was as ignorant
as you were of Percival being alive, and of the Young Otter having'
been detained at the fort. My idea was, when the chief struck
down the Indian woman, that it was to get rid of her, and that
I was to replace her. This idea was almost madness, but still I had
hope, and 1 prayed as I walked along to that God who sees the most
secret act, and hears the most silent prayer of tlu; heart, and I felt an
assurance while praying that 1 should be rescued. I know that my
absence would be immediately discovered, and that there were those
who would risk their lives to rescue me, if I was still in existence,
and I therefore used .all my efforts to walk on as fast as I could, and
not irritate the Indians. But that night I had no one to dress rcy
feet, which were bleeding and very much sx^^elled, and I was veiy
wretched when I lay down alone. I could not drive from uiy
thoughts the poor Indian woman weltering in her blood, and
murdered for no crime or fault — nothing that I could discover. The
next morning, as usual, my food waa some parched Indian corn, and
of that I received only a handful for my sustenance during the
twenty-four hours; however, hunger I never felt, I had too much
pain. I was able to drag myself on till about noon, when I felt that
I could not proceed farther. I stopi)ed and sat down ; ths chief
ordered me to get up again by signs; I pointed to my feet, which
were now swelled above the ankles, but he insisted, and raised his
tomahawk to frighten me into compliance. I was so worn out that
I could have almost received the blow with thankfulness, but I re-
mem]>ered you, my dear Uncle and Aunt and others, and resolved for
your sakes to make one more effort. I did so; 1 ran and \ralked for
an hour more in perfect agony ; at last nature could support the })ain
no longer, and I fell insensible."

" My poor Mary ! " exclaimed Emma.

" I thought of you often and often, my dear Sister," replied Mary,
kissing her.

" I believe it was a long while before I came to my senses," con-
tinued Mary, " for when I did, I found that the Indians were very
busy weaving branches into a sort of litter. As soon as they had
finished, they put me upon it, and I was carried by two of them
swinging on a pole which they put on their shoulders. I need hardly
say, that the journey r.as now more agreeable than it was before,

e clown the
[to her ; but
d that she
id forced to
curdled at
r myself.
A« igiiorant
tter having'
hief struck
k and that
t still I had
't*H the most
"d I felt an
low that my
were those
existeuce,
could, aijJ
[to dress ny
I was vay
e from aiy
blood, and
icover. The
m corn, and
during the
id too much
n I felt that
i; the chief
feet, which
I raised his
rn out that
Js, but I re-
resolved for
walked for
)rt the ])ain

•lied Mary,

OSes," con-
were very
I they had
o of them
eed hardly
k^as before,

TUB flKTTLRRfl IN CANADA.

233

although my feet were in a dreuilful HtaLe, and gave me much pain.
That night we stopped by .• ^vnlet, and I kept my feet in the water
for two or three hours, whi ought down the iuflamniation and

swelling very much, and I cont.ived after tliat to gain some sleep.
They carried me one more day, when they coriHidered that they had
done enough, and 1 was again ordered to walk; I did so for two
(lays, and was then in the same conditi<m as before. A litter was
therefore again constructed, and 1 was carried till T arrived at the
lodges of the Angry Snake and his band. What i)as8ed from that
time you Iiave heard from Alfred."

When Mary had finished her narrative they all sat down to supper,
and it hardly need be said that Mr. Campbell did not fail, before
they retired to rest, again to pour forth his thanksgivings to the
Almighty for the preservation of those who were so dear. The next
morning they all rose in health and spirits. Martin came early to
the house with the Strawberry ; his wound was much better, and he
received the thanks and condolence of Mr. and Mrs, (Campbell.

When they were at breakfast, Captain Sinclair said, ** £ must now
tjike my leave and return to the fort. I trust 1 shall see you all
again in a few days, but I must report the results of the ex])e(lition,
and the death of poor Watkins. May I borrow one of your hoi'ses,
Mr. Campbell r'

" Certainly," replied Mr. Camj)bell ; "you know tl)e bateau is ex-
pected every day from Montreal ; perhaps you will bring us our
letters when it arrives."

Captain Sinclair took his leave, as it may be imagined, very reluc-
tantly, and in a day or two the family again settled down to their
nsual occupations. The emigrants had, during the absence of the
expedition, gathered in a great portion of the corn, and now all
hands were employed in finishing the harvest.

"How happy we are now, Mary!" said Emma to her sister, as
they were walking by the stream, watching John, who was catching
trout.

" Yes, ray dear Emma, we have had a lesson which will, I trust,
})revent any future repining, if we have felt any, at our present
position. The misery we have been rescued from has shown us how
much we have to bo thankful for. We have nothing more to fear
from the Indians, and I feel as if I could now pass the remainder of
my life here in peace and thankfulness."

"Not without Captain Sinclair?"

" Not always without him. The time will, I trust, come when I
may reward him for his patience and his regard for me, but it has
not yet come; and it's for my uncle and aunt to decide when it
shall. Where's PercivaU"

!i i

. ,

234

THK SiCTTLKM IN CANADA.

'* lie i« gone into the woods with Malachi, uud with a rifle on hin
■houKler, of which he m not a little proud. John is not at all
jealouB. lie oayB that Percival ought to know how to fire a rifle,
and throw away that fooiirth bow and arrows. Do you not think
that his residence among the Indiana hua made a great cl iuge in
Percivalt"

"A very great one; he is more manly and more taciturn; he
appears to think more and talk lews. But Henry is beckoning to uh.
Dinner is ready, and we must not keep hungry people waiting."

"No," replied Emma; "for in that caue 1 should keep myself
waiting."

'li rtl! ' '

It ^i

.4, .. J

CHAPTER XL.

Captain Sinclair on his return to Fort Frontignac reported to the
Colonel the successful result of the expedition, and was warmly con-
gratulated upon it. The Young Otter, who had remained in confine-
ment during Cajitain Sinclair's absence, was now set at liberty; and
the Colonel, who was aware that Captain Sinclair must be very
anxious to remain at the settlement for a short time after what had
occurred, very kindly otTered him leave for a few clays, which it m:iy
be supposed Captain Sinclair did not fail to avail himself of. The
Colonel at the same time sent a message to Mr. Campbell, stating
that as soon as the bateaux should arrive from Montreal, he would
bring any letters or newspapers that might arrive for them, and
take that opportunity of offering in person his congratulations.

Captain Sinclair did not, however, return for two or three days,
as he had many letters to write in answer to those which had
arrived during his absence. On his return to the settlement he
found them all well and happy; Mary quite recovered from her
fatigue, and everything going on in the same quiet order and method
as if the expedition had never taken place, and had never been
necessary. Indeed, nothing appeared now wanting to the happiness
of the whole party, and their atl'airs were prospering. The emi-
grants who had joined Mr. Campbell were industrious and intelli-
gent, very civil, and very useful. They paid the greatest respect to
Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who were certainly very liberal and kind
to them, assisting them in every way in their power. Although the
farm had been so much increased, the labour was light, from the
quantity of hands they could command ; the stock had increased
very fast; old Graves had taken charge of the mill during the
absence of Alfred and Martin, and had expressed his wish to con-

TMK aETTLRM IW OAKADA.

S36

rifle on bin

I not at all

[fire a rifle,

not thiuk

cl iiige in

Iciturn; h«
mug to iiH.
iitiiig."
jeep niyHclf

T^d to the

Mrmly con-
in coufme-

berty; and
ist be vory
r what had
hich it nijiy
ilf of. The
Jell, stating
1, he would

them, and
tiona.

three days,
which had
;lement he

from her
nd method
lever been

happiness

The emi-
nd intelii-
respect to

and kind
hough the

from the

increased
uring the
ih to con-

tinue in that omployni«iit, which Alfred gl.ully gave up. In nhort,
fMsaoe and plenty reigne<l in the 8cttlem<«nt, and Alfred'i wordi when
he reoomnifiided his father to go to ('anada had every proBpect of
becoming true— that his father would be independent, if not rich,
and leave hie children tlie Banie. In three (lays Captain Sinclair
arrived ; he wai received with great warmth ly all the party, and
after dinner wai over, Mr. Campbell addroased the family a«
follows : —

" My dear children, your mother and I have had some conversa-
tion on one or two points, and we have come fo the decision that
having so much to thank God for, in his kindness and mercies shown
towards us, it would be selfish on our parts if we did not consult the
happiness of others. We are now independent, and with every
prospect of being more so every day ; we are no longer isolated, but
surrounded by those who are attaclied to us, and will protect us
should there be any occasion. In short, we are living in comfort
and security, and we trust to Providence that we shall continue so
to do. You, my dear Alfred, generously abandoned your profeHsion,
to which you were so partial, to come and protect us in the wilder-
ness, and we knew too well the value of your services not to accept
them, although we were fully aware of the sacritice which you made;
but we are no longer in a wilderness, and no longer recpiire your
strong arm and bold heart. We have, therefore, decided that it is
our duty no longer to keep you from the profession to which you
belong, but, on the contrary, to recommend you now to rejoin and
follow up your career, which we trust in God may prove as pros-
perous as we are convinced it will be honourable. Take our beat
thanks, my dear boy, for your kindness to us, and now consider
yourself at liberty to return to England, and rejoin the service as
soon as you please.

"And now I must address you, my dear Mary. You and your
sister accompanied us here, and since you have been with us have
cheered us during our stay by your attentions and unwearied cheer-
fulness under all the privations which we at first had to encounter.
You have engaged the afi'ections of an honourable and deaervmg
man, but at the same time have never shown the least disposition to
leare us; indeed, we know what your determination has been, but
your aunt and I consider it our present duty to say, that much as we
shall regret to part with one so dear, you must no longer sacrifice
yourself for us, but make him happy who so well deserves you.
That you will remain here is, of course, out of the question ; your
husband's connections and fortune require that he should return to
England, and not bury himself in the woods of Canada. You have,
therefore, our full permission, and I may say it will be most pleas-

236

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

J ,^1

H '4

[?*."

■*■ t

i|:t|

i S '

ing to ui if you no longer delay your union with Captain Sinclair
and follow your husband ; whenever and wherever you go, you will
have our blessings and our prayers, and the satisfaction of knowing
that you have been to us as a dutiful daughter, and that we love you
as dearly as it is possible for parents to do. Take her. Captain Sin-
claik*, from my hands, and take with her our blessiugs and best
wiahep for your happiness, which I do not doubt will be as great as
we can expect in this chequered world; for a dutiful daughter will
always become a good wife."

Mary, who was sitting between Mrs. Campbell and Captain Sin-
clair, fell upon her aunt's neck and wept; Mr. Campbell extended
his hand to Captain Sinclair, who ex})ies8ed in return his warmest
thanks and gratitude. Alfred, who had said nothing more, went up
to his mother and kissed her.

"I wish you to go, Alfred," said his mother; "I wish you to
rejoin a service to which you are a credit. Do not believe other-
wise, or that I shall grieve too much at your departure."

"Go, my son," said Mr. Campbell, shaking him by the hand, "and
let me see you a post-captain before I die."

Mrs. (Campbell now took Mary into the next room, that she might
compose herself, and Captain Sinclair ventured to follow. Every
one ap])eared happy at this announcement of Mr. Campbell except
Emma, who looked unusually serious. Alfred, perceiving it, said to
her:

"Emma, yon are very grave at the idea of losing Mary, and I do
not wonder at it, but you will have one consolation — you will lose
me too, and I shall no longer plague you as you continually complain
that I do,"

"I never thought of that," replied Emma, half angry; "well, you
are a great plague, and the sooner you go — "

Emma did not, however, finish her spe3ch, but left the room to
join her sister.

Now that Mr. Campbell had announced his wishes, the subject of
Mary'b marriage and Alfred's return to the service was, for a few
days, the continual subject of discussion. It was decided that Mary
should be married in a month, by the chaplain of the fort, who had
returned, and tha* Captain Sinclair, with his wife and Alfred, should
leave the settlement at the end of September, so as to arrive at
Quebec in good time for sailing before the winter should set in.

It was now the last week in August, so that there was not much
time to pass away previous to their departure. Captain Sinclair
returned to the fort, to make the Colonel acquainted with what had
passed, and to take the necessary steps for leave of absence, and his
return to England. This, from his interest with the Governor, he

i€

un Sinclair

I go, you will

' of knowing

we love jou

Captain Sin-

[gs and best

(e as great as

V"ghter will

Captain Sin-
jell extended

his warmest
lore, went up

[wish you to
klieve other-

fe hand, "and

lat she might
>lJow. Every
ipbell except
ing it, said to

[ary, and I do
-you will lose
lally complain

r, "well, you

the room to

he subject of
*a, for a few
id that Mary
i>rt, who had
Ifred, should
to arrive at
1 set in.
as not much
ain Sinclair
ih what had
nee, and his
Governor, he

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

237

was sure to obtain, and when in England it would be time sufficient
to decide whether he should leava that service or exchange into
some regiment at home.

A week afterwards, the bateaux arrived fiom Montreal, and the
Colonel and Captain Sinclair made their appearance at the settle-
ment, bringing with them letters and papers from England.

Having received the congratulations of the Colonel, Mr. and Mrs.
Campbell, with his permission, opened their letters, for all the
family were present, and all, as usual, anxious to hear the news.
The first letter Mr. Campbell opened, to the surprise of all, produced
an immediate change in his countenance. He read it a second time,
and laying it down on his knee, appeared to remain in a state of
complete abstraction.

" No bad news, I hope, my dear?" said his wife anxiously.

" No, my dear Emily, no bad news, but most unexpected news ;
such as it has been my fortune in life to receive once before this
time. You remember the letter that was brought to us in our little
parlour — "

" Which put you in possession of Wexton Hall."

" Yes, I did refer to that ; but I will not keep you all in longer
suspense. This is but a counterpart of the former letter."

Mr. Campbell then read as follows : —

"May 7, 18—

" Dear Sir, — It is with great pleasure that we have again to com-
municate to you that you may return, as soon as you please, and
take possession of the Wexton Hall property.

"You may remember that many months back Mr. Douglas Camp-
bell received a fall from his horse when hunting. No serious conse-
quences were anticipated, but it appears that his spine was injured,
and after some months' close confinement he expired on the 9th of
April. As Mr. Douglas Campbell has left no issue, and you are the
next in tail, you have now undisputed possession of the property
which you so honourably surrendered some years since.

"I have taken upon myself to act as your agent since Mr. Camp-
bell's decease. Mrs. D. Campbell has a handsome settlement upon
the property, which will, of course, fall in upon her demise. Wait-
ing your commands,

"I am,

"Dear Sir,

"Yours truly,

"J. Harvet."

"Mr. Campbell, I congratulate you with all my heart," said the
Colonel, rising up and taking his hand. "You have proved yourself

it Li

v.l

\ \

■

■;

it''-

■ f'" '

[

;

■'

1
1

iJtk: ^'\

236

THB 8BTTLBRS iM OAKADA.

deserving of such good fortune; Mrs. Campbell, I need harily add
that my congratulations extend to you."

Surprise at first rendered Mrs. Campbell mute ; at last she said :

"We are in the hands of Him, and do but execute Hia will. For
your sake, for the children's sake, perhaps, I ought to rejoice — we
hardly know. That I am happy here, now that my children have
been restored to me, I confess. I doubt whether that happiness
will be increased by the return to Wexton Hall; at all events, I
shall leave this place with regret. We have had too many revolu-
tions of fortune, my dear, since we have been united, not to have
learned by experience tliat a peaceful, quiet, and contented home is
more necessary to our happiness than riches."

"I feel as you do, Emily," replied Mr. Campbell; **but we are
growing old, and have been taught wisdom practically by the events
of a chequered life. Our children, I perceive, think otherwise — nor
do I wonder at it."

"I sha'n't go," said John; "1 shall only be sent to school; no
master shall flog me — I'm a man."

"Nor I," cried Percival.

The Colonel and Mr and Mrs. Campbell, as well as the elder
portion of the party, could not help smiling at the exclamations of
the two boys.

'*You shall neither of you go to school," replied Mr. Campbell;
"but still you must render yourselves fit for your stations in life, by
improving your minds, and attending to those who will instruct you."

It is hard to say whether much real joy was felt by any of the
party at the prospect of returning to England. It is true that Mary
was delighted at the idea of not being so far from her aunt and
uncle, and that Emma was better pleased to be in England, for
reasons which she kept to herself. But it was not the coming into
the large property which occasioned pleasure to any of them. How-
ever, if there was not much pleasure derived from this re-accession
to property, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell knew their duty too well to
hesitate, and every preparation was commenced for their return
along with Alfred and Captain Sinclair. John, however, still con-
tinued obstinate in declaring that he would not go, and Percival was
very much of John's opinion, although he did not speak so plainly.

When Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were alone, the former said :

" I do not know what to do about John. He appears* so resolute
in his determination no\. to go with us, that I fear he will run away
into the woods at the time of our departure."

" It is hard to decide ; I have more than once thought it would be
better to leave him here. He is our youngest son. Hen*'y will, of
coarse, inherit the estate, and we shall have to provide for tiie others

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

239

|h»^iIy add

she said :

will. For

rejoice — we

pldren have

happiness

Jl events, I

[any revolu-

pot to have

jted home ia

[but we are
the events
arwise — nor

school; no

the elder
lamations of

'. Oampbell;
38 in life, by
istruct you."
' any of the
3 thai Mary
ir aunt and
Ingland, for
3oming into
tern. How-
re-accession
too well to
leir return
r, still con-
ercival was
plainly,
aid:

so resolute
run away

t would be
^•y wUl, of
the others

I; I

out of our savings. Now this property, by V e time that John is of
age, will be of no inconsiderable value, an< by no means a bad
fortune for a younger son. He appears so wedf.ed to the woods and
a life of nature, that I fear it would only be the cause of continual
regret and discontent if we did take him to England; and if so,
what comfort or advantage should we gain by his returning? I
hardly know what to advise."

" I have serious thoughts of leaving him here, under the charge of
Martin and Malachi," replied Mr. Campbell. " He would be happy ;
by and by he would be rich. What could ;ie obtain more in Eng-
land] But it must be for you to decide, my dear Emily."

" I cannot decide at once, my dear. I will first talk with John,
and consult with Alfred and Henry."

The result of Mrs. Campbell's communicating with her sons was
a decision that John should remain in Canada, under the charge ^f
Martin and Malachi, who were to superintend the farm and watch
over him. Martin was to take charge of the farm ; Malachi was to
be John's companion in the woods; and old Graves, who had the mill
under his care, engaged to correspond with Mr. Campbell, and let
them know how things went on. When this was settled, John
walked at least two inches higher.

A month after the receipt of the letter, the v;hole family, with the
exception of John, embarked in two hateatix, and arrived at Mon-
treal, where they remained a day or two, and then proceeded to
Quebec.

At Quebec their agent had already taken all the cabins of one of
the finest ships for their passage, and after a run of six weeks they
once more found themselves at Liverpool, from which town they
posted to Wexton Hail, Mrs. Douglas Campbell having retired to a
property of her own in Scotland.

We have now finished our tale, and have only to inform our little
readers what were the after-lives of the Campbell family.

Henry did not return to college, but remained with his father and
mother at the Hall, employing himself in superintending the property
to which he afterwards succeeded.

Alfred was appointed to a ship commanded by Captain Lumley.
He soon rose in the service, was highly distinguished as a gallant
clever officer, and four years after his return to England was married
to his cousin Emma — at which the reader will not be surprised.

Mary Percival was married to Captain Sinclair, who sold out, and
retired upon half-pay, to live jpon his estates in Scotland.

Percival went to college, and turned out a very clever lawyer.

John remained in Canada until he was twenty years old, when he
came home to aee his father and mother. He was a very amusing

? ■^■

'-.m

240

THE SETTLERS IN CANADA.

fellow, and could talk fast enough, but his chief conversation was
upon hunting and sporting. The farm had been well conducted;
the emigrants had adhered to the agreements, and were now cul-
tivating for themselves. Martin and the Strawberry had three little
papooses (as the Indians call the children). Malachi had grown too
old to go out often into the woods, and he sat by the fire in the
winter, and biisked in the sun at the door of the house dur'ner the
summer. Mr. Campbell gave John a deed, on his return, conveying
to him the Canadian property, and shortly afterwards John picked
up a little Canadian wife at Quebec, who made him perfectly happy.
Mr. and Mrs. Campbell lived to a good old age, respected as long
as they lived, and lamented when they died. They had known
prosperity and adversity, and in each state of life had acquitted
themselves with exemplary propriety, not having been elated by the
one or depressed by the other. They knew that this world was a
world of trial, and but a preparation for another ; tliey therefore did
their duty in that state of life to which it pleased God to call them —
proving in all their actions, that they remembered their duty to their
God, and tlieir duty to their neighbour ; living and dying (as I hope
all my young readers will) sincere and good Christians.

THE END.

■li

S,x^

:. I

;■'

ionversation w.ia

[well conducted;
were now ciil-
had three little

1 had grown too
the fire in the

ouse durinff the

eturn, conveying

[rds John picked

perfectly happy.

eapected as long

hey had known

e had acquitted

Jeen elated by the

this world was a

hey therefore did

od to call them —

heir duty to their

dying (as I hope

ans.

" Voung readers have no better friends tlian Rlackie & Son."— H « .v/w/z/vAv ( Gazette.

Blackie & Son's

Story Books for Boys

G. MANVILLE FENN
Dick o' the Fens : ^ «<""•''"« °' '^^ ^f^^' East

bwamp. With 12 page Illus-
trations by Frank Dadd. 6s.

Dick o' the Fens and Tom o' Grimsey are the sons of a squire and a
fanner living in Lincohishire. Many sketches of their sliooting and fisliing
expeiiences are related, while the record of the fennieu's stealthy resistance
to the great draining scheme is full of keen interest. The amhuslies and
shots in the mist and dark, and the long -baffled attempts to trace the
lurking foe, are described with Mr. Fenn's wonted skill.

" Mr. Fenn has here very nearly attained perfection. Life in the Fens in the old
ante-drainage days is admirably reproduced. We have not of late come across a
historical fiction, wliether intended for boys or for men, which deserves to be so
heartily prai.sed as regards plot, incidents, and spirit. It is its author's ma.sterpiece
as yet." spectator.

-Nat the Naturalist: a Boy'sAdyemu,es in the Eastern

heas. With 8 page Pictures by
Gordon Browne. 5^-.

The boy Nat and his uncle go on a voyage to the islands of the Eastern
seas to seek specimens in natural history, and their adventures there are full
of interest and excitement. The descriptions of Mr. Ebony, their black
comrade, and of the scenes of savage life sparkle with genuine humour.

"This book encourages independence of character, develops resource, and teaches
a boy to keep his eyes open." — Saturday Review.

-The Golden Magnet: 'l^V:^^^^-

lustrations by Gordon Browne. 3^".

The tale is of a romantic youth, who leaves home to seek his fortune in
South America. He is accompanied by a faithful companion, who, in the
capacity both of comrade and henchman, does true service, and shows the
dogged courage of an English lad during their strange adventures.

" There could be no more welcome present for a boy. There is not a dull page,
and many will be read with breathless wWex^fX." -Journal of Education.

(9)

From THE DIAMOND SEEKERS

'§^
«

itv

™|n

i Wi B

i -III

' ^' ^1

, i; ij .

4 li

i i ■■ • i

1 U 1.

By Ernest Glanvillf

(See paee lO

fit.ACKIE'S STOIiY BOOKS PVIi BOYS

Dr. GORDON STABLES, R.N.

In the Great White Land: "^ ™' °' "" z;!'"',"

arctic Ocean. With
6 Illustrations by J. A. WALTON, y. 6d.

This is a most fascinating story from beginning to end. It is a 'rue
picture of wliat daring healthful British men and boys can do, written by
an author whose name is a household word wherever the English language
is spoken. All is described with a master's hand, and the plot is just such
as boys love.

"The narrative goes witli a swing and a dash from start to finish." — Public Opinion.

ERNEST GLANVILLE

The Diamond Seekers: ^ ^'"V/-'^'i^^"'";^ '"

Sout.i Africa. With 8
Illustrations by William Rainky, r.i. 6j.

The discovery of the plan of the diamond mine, the dangers incurred in
reaching the wild, remote spot in an armoured wagon, and the many
incidents of farm and veldt life, are vividly described by an author who
knows the country well.

" VVe have seldom seen a better story for hov'^." —Gnardiaft.

Capt. F. S. BRERETON, R.A.M.C.

One of the Fighting Scouts: '^„'^t, °V'""'

O C3 rilla Warfare in

South Africa. With 8 Illustrations by STANLEY L. WOOD, and

a Map. $s.

This story deals with the guerrilla aspect of the Boer War, and shows
how George Ransome is compelled to leave his father's farm and take
service with the British. He is given the command of a band of scouts
as a reward for gallantry, and witli these he punishes certain rebeis for
a piece of rascality, and successfully i.ltacks Botha's Cw.nmando. Thanks
to his knowledge of the veldt he is of signal service to his country, and
even outwits the redoubtable De Wet.

"Altogether an unusually good slory. "—Vorkshii-e Post.

-Under the Spangled Banner: ^p^h-t:';-

can War. With 8 Illustrations by Paul Hardy. 5.9.

Hal Marchant is in Cuba before the cimimencement of hostilities. A
Spaniard who has been frustrated in an attempt to rob Hal's employer
attacks the hacienda and is defeated, but turns the tables by denouncing
Hal as a spy. The hero makes good his escape from Santiago, and
afterwards figlits for America both on land and at sea. The story gives a
vivid and at the same time accurate account of this memorable struggle.
" Just the kind of book that a boy would delight \n." —Schoolmaster,

♦

v-~

'.-■il

J ■

r i

i:;:U

m \ I

■I

.,, lis

HLACKIE'S STOKV BOOKS FOK BOYS

FREDERICK HARRISON

The Boys of Wynport College, .^^f,^""

/ J I o lustrations

by Harold Copping. 3j. Neiu Edition.

The hero and his chums ihffer as widely in character as in personal ap-
pearance. We have Patrick O't'tlahertie, the tjood-natured Irish boy;
Jack Brookes, the irrepressible humorist; Davie Jackson, the true-hearted
little lad, on vviiose haps and niishaps the plot to a ^reat exlent turns;
and the hero himself, win finds in his experiences at Wynport College
a wholesome corrective of a somewhat lax home training.

" A buok wliicli no well-regulated schuul-ljoy should be without. "
/ —W'lihefutU Rcvinu.

LEON GOLSCHMANN

"D^y r^rimnP<s • A Story of the Siberian Forest. Adapted
/ ' ' from the Russian by Leon Golschmann.

With 6 p?go Illustrations by J. FiNNKMORK, R.l. y. 6d.

Two Russian lads are so deeply impressed by reading Robinson Crusoe
that they run away from home. They lose their way in a huge trackless
forest, and for two y^ars are kejjt busy huntii j; for food, fighting against
wolves and other enemies, and labouring to increase their comforts, before
they are rescued.

" This is a ; '.ory after a boy's own heart." Notti>tg,ham Guardian.

MEREDITH FLETCHER

Inch a Briton :

35-. 6d.

A School Story. With 6
page Illustrations by Sydney

Every

COWELL.

This story is written from the point of view of an ordinary boy, who gives

an animated account of a young public-schoolboy's life. No moral is

drawn; yet the story indicates a kind of training tnat goes to promote

veracity, endurance, and enterprise ; and of each of several of the characters

it might be truly said, he is worthy to be called, •' Every Inch a Briton".

" III Every Inch a Briton Mr. Meredith Fletcher has scored a success "

— Manchester Guardian.

EDGAR PICKERING

In Press-Gang Days.

\V;th 4 lUustni.ions b/ W. S.
StacI'.y. 2s.6d. New Edition,

In this story Harry Waving is caught by the Press-gang and ^^airied o
board Ills Majesty's ship Saudivhli. He takes ]iart in the mutiny of th

^_ . „._ _ lutiny of the

Nore, and shares in some hard fighting on board the riucnix. He is with
Nelson, also at the sto ming of Santa Cruz and the battle of the Nile

" It is oi' Mavryat, that friend of our boyhooc, we think as we read this delightful
story ; for it is not only a story of adventure, with incidents well conceived and
arranged, but tne chsracters are interesting and well-distinguished."— .<4£'<k^^»/J'.

'12)

BJ.ACKIES STOh'Y JWOKS FOR BOYS

ichiiU Review.

)ns b / W. S.

FRED SMITH

The Boyhood of a Naturalist. wi";6pa«e

J Illustrations.

y. 6d. Nt'7v Edition.

Few lovers of Nature have given to the world a series of recollections so
entertaining, so vigorous, and so instinct with lite as these; delightful remin-
iscences. The nuthor takes the reader with him in the rambles in which he
spent the happiest hours of his boyhood, a humble o!)server of the myriad
forms of life in field and copse, by stream and hedgerow.

"We cannot too liighly recommend the hook to all reader^." -Guardian.

-The World of Animal Life. K*'«d by kkk,.

wSmith. Pro-
fusely Illustrated with Engravings after F. Si'ECHT and other
eminent art'siij. ^s.

The aim or The World of Animal Life is to give in non-scientific lan-
guage an account of those inhabitants of the land, sea, and sky with whose
names we are all familiar, but concerning whose manner of life the majority
of us have only the haziest conceptions.

"An admirable volume for the young mind enquiring after Nature."

—Birminghain Gazette.

EDGAR PICKERING

An Old-Time Yarn:

Adventures in the West Indies

and Mexico with Hawkins and

Drake. With 6 page Illustrations by Alfred Pearse. 3.V. dd.

The hero sails from Plymouth in the flagshiji of Master John Hawkins.

Divers are the perils through which he passes. Chief of these are the

destruction of the FZnglish ships by the treacherous Spaniards, the fight

round the burning vessels, the journey of the prisoners to the city of Mexico,

the horrors of the Inquisition, and the final escape to England.

"An excellent story of adventure. . . . The book is thoroughly to be recom-
mended. "--Guardian.

CLIVE PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY
Gold, Gold in Cariboo : '^^^^T^^

4 Illustrations by G. C. Hindley. 2s. 6d. New Edition.

Ned Corbett, a young F^nglishman, and his companion set out with
a pack-train in order to obtain gold on the upper reaches of the Eraser
Kwjr. After innumerable adventure.s, and a life-and -death struggle with
tlie Arctic weather of that wild region, they find the secret gold-mine;, for
which they have toilsomely searched.

" It would be difficult to say loo much in favour of Gold, Gold in Cariboo. We
have seldom read a more exciting tale of wild mining adventure in a singularly
inaccessible country. There is a capital plot, and the interest is sustained to the
last page." — The Times.

(«3)

JiLtCK/F:s STOkV HOOKS POk liOVS

liiih^M

li %,

trii i

ROBERT LEIGHTON

The Gold-n Galleon. Z:'\ ^' illustrations by

W. KaINIOV, R.l. 3,s. Nf7U

Juiition,

(lilbert Oi^laiKU'r, and his friend, Timothy Tnillopo, johi in Lord
Thonias llowaid's expoditioii to inttrcept the Sinn ish treasure llt-cl from
the West Indies, and are on board I'lh- AWt/t^'c in the ntcmorable fi^ht
between that (.ne little nian-ol'-war and lifty-thiee j^reat galleons of Spain.
Alter the battle come storm and shipwreck, and the lads, having; drifted
for days, find refuse on board a derelict j^alleon, whence they arc rescued
and broiti^ht home to I'jij^land.

" A wclI-LMiistnictcd ami li\uly liistorical roinaiuc." S/>i\tiitor.

S. BARING-GOULD

Grettir the Outlaw: ^ '^'"o; "ficoinmi in ii,c days

ol the V ikings. \\ ith 6 page
lUustiations by M. Zkno Dik.mkk. 3.S.

A narrative of adventure of the most romantic kind. No boy will be able
to withstand the ma<;ic i«f such scenes as the fi^ht of Grettir with the twelve
bear.>erks. the wrestle with Karr the ( )Id in :he chamber of the dead, the
coml)at with the spirit «>l (ilam the thrall, and the defence of the dying
Cirettir by his yonni,'er brother.

" Has a ticslinoss, a frcv-iium, a sciisu nf sun and uiiul and the i)i)eii air, wliich niak(j
it irresistible.' .\'itti<<>iiii O/'scrx'cr.

The Captured Cruiser : '"• ■""" '^''^'•"■'^ f™"' l='"''

C. J. CUTCLIFFE HYNE

or, Tu"

With 6 page Illustrations
by F. Branc.wvn. y. 6c/.

The central incidents deal with the capture, durint; the war between Chili
and Peru, of an armed cruiser. The heroes and their companions break
from prison in X'alparaiso, board this warship in the niL;ht, overpower the
watch, escape to sea under the lire of the forts, and finally, after marvellous
adventures, lose the cruiser among the iceliergs near Cape Horn.

"'I'he two lads anil the two skijipers arc admiral)l\- drawn. Mr. Hyne has now
secured a position in the first rank ol writeis ut Tut ion tor hoys " — Spectator.

Stimson's Reef: i^''"' ■* i^s^' '""^'••^>'i™= ^y w. s.

SlAC i:V. 2J-. hd.

This is the exti-nded log of a cutter whicli .sailed from the Clyde to the
Amazon in search, of a gold reef. It relates how lliey discovered the
buccaneer's treasure in the Siianish Main, fouohl the Indians, turne<l aside
the river Jainary by blasting, and .so laid bare the gold oi St i/ii son's A'ct/.

" Few stories come within hailini; distance of Stintsou's Kee/'m startling incidents
and hairt)rc.idth srapes. It may almost vie with Mr. K. L. Stevenson'^ Treasure
itiuttd."— iiuariiiati.

(14)

r.s

rutions by
3.V. Neio

Mil in I, Old
re llfct from
noiahle fiylit
ns of Spain.
ivin.t,f (Iriftcd
/ arc rescued

in the days
itli 6 page

■ will be able
I1 the twelve
he dead, the
oi the dyinj^

ir, which nuikc

from Land,
llustiations

etween Chili
anions break
^ erpower the
■r niarvellous
n.

Hync has now

: tutor.

by W. S.

Clyde to the
^covered the
tinned aside
•<oii s Rtrf.

riling incidents
son'j Treasure

From OhF OF THE FICIfTING SC()UT.>

\\\ Cwv. F. S. Brereton

(Sec page 11)

Pr.ACfClF.'S STORY POOKS FOR JJOVS

R. STEAD

Grit will Xell* The Adventures of a nar^'e-boy. With

• 4 Illustrations by I). Cari.KTON Smyth.
Cloth, 2s. 6(/.

A lad whose name lias been lost amidst early bufTetin^s by hard fortune
sufters many hardships at iho hands of a barj^'oinan, his master, and runs
away. Tlie various adventures and experiences with which he meets on
the r()a<l to success, tlie bear-luuit in whicli he lakes part, and the battle
at which he acts as war correspondent, form a story of absorbing interest
and after a boy's own heart.

"A thoroughly wholesome and attractive book." — Gri%f>hic,

HARRY COLLINGWOOD

The Pirate Island. TtLr'^ll''^''"xfT\^l?-

J. Stan I LAN I) and J. K. Wells.
3J. New Edition.

By a deed of true gallantry the hero's whole destiny is changed, and, going
to sea, he forms one of a party who, after being burned out of their ship in
the South Pacific, are picked up by a pirate brig and taken to the ** Pirate
Island ". After many thrilling adventures, they ultimately succeed in
effecting their escape.

" A capital story of the sea ; indeed in our opinion the author is superior in some
respects as a marine novelist to the better-known Mr. Clark Russell." — Times.

FLORENCE COOMBE

s of the Priorv School.

Boyi

With 4 page
J Illustrations by

Harold Copping. 2s. 6d.

The interest centres in the relations of Raymond and Hal Wentworth,
and the process by which Raymond, the hero of the school, learns that in
the person of his ridiculed cousin there beats a heart more heroic than his
own.

" It is an excellent work of its class, cleverly illustrated with 'real boys' by Mr.
Harold Co^\An^." —LiteraUtre.

JOHN C. HUTCHESON

Aflr^at- al- Tact* A Sailor Boy's Log. With 6 page Illus-
/\nOclt dL J_.dbL. trations by W. H. OvERENi). 3s. 6d.

From the stowing of the vessel in the Thames to her recovery from the
Pratas Reef on which she is stranded, everything is described with the
accuracy of perfect practical knowledge of ships and sailors; and the inci-
dents of the story range from the l)road humours of the fo'c's'le to the perils
of flight from, and fight with, the pirates of the China Seas.
"As healthy and breezy a book as one could wish." — Academy.

(16)

]:s:

■boy. With
ON Smyth.

' hard fortune
ster, and runs
he meets on
md the Waltle
rbing interest

tions by C.
R. Wklls.

id, and, going
r their ship in
:) the " Pirate
y succeed in

uperior in some
— Titnes.

h 4 page
strations by

Wentworth,
learns that in
eroic than his

il boys' by Mr,

3 page Illus-

k'cry from the
bed with the
and the inci-
; to the perils