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\ 
 
 Afar in the Forest; 
 
 .■•v. 
 
 i \ 
 
 OR, 
 
 PICTURES OF LIFE AND SCENERY 
 
 IN THE 
 
 WILDS OF CANADA. 
 
 Author of " The Canadian Crusocs" ifc. 
 
 x 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW; 
 EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK. 
 
 1869. 
 
H 
 
 |E have much pleasure in placing before our 
 readers a New and Revised Edition of a 
 book which was formerly popular under 
 the title of " Lady Mary and uer Nurse." The 
 present edition has been considerably improved, so 
 as to increase its attractions for the young. It 
 contains much pleasant information, and many in- 
 teresting anecdotes respecting the plants and animals 
 of our great Canadian Colony, and not a few lively 
 details of the habits and customs of the Indians, now 
 fast disappearing before the encroachments of Euro- 
 pean civilization. Both girl and boy may find 
 amusement and instruction in these pages, whoso 
 perusal will advantageously occupy a leisure hour, 
 and store their minds with many useful facts about 
 the wild animals and natural curiosities of North 
 America. 
 
 i¥^ 
 
 3^ "^^ — 
 

 V '■- 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Flying Squirrel— Its Food— Story of a Wolf— Indian Village 
 — WiiaUico ; ® 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Sleighing— Sleigh Robes— Fur Caps— Otter Skins- Old Snow- 
 storm— Otter Hunting— Otter Slides— Indian Names— Re- 
 marks on "Wild Animals and their Habits 2G 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Part I.— Lady Mary reads to Mrs. Frazer the First Part of the 
 History of the Squirrel Family 30 
 
 Pabt II.— Which tells how the Gray Squirrels fared while they 
 remained on Pine Island— How they behaved to their poor 
 Relations, the Chitmunks— And what happened to them in 
 the Forest • ^^ 
 
 Part III.— How the Squirrels got to the Mil) .t the Rapids— 
 And what happened to Velvet-paw d 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Squirrels— The Chitmunks— Docility of a Pet One— Roguery of 
 a Yankee Pedlar —Return of the Musical Chitmunk to his 
 Master's Bosom— Sagacity of a Black Squirrel 83 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Indian Baskets— Thread Plants— Maple Sugar-Tree— Indian Or- 
 namental Works— Racoons ^ 
 
 • . . ft* 
 
 ,*^ 
 
* 
 
 Viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Cantulian Birds — Snow Sparrow — Robin Rudbroiwt -CiinniHiin 
 Flowers — Amuricun rorcupino 108 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Indian Bag— Indian Embroidury — Beaver's Tail — Beaver Arclii- 
 tccturo — Habits of the Beaver — Beaver Tools— Beaver 
 Meadows llj) 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Indian Boy and his Pets — Tame Beiver at Home — Kitten, Wild- 
 flre-^Pet Racoon and the Spaniel Pnppies —Canadian Flora . . 132 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Nurse tells Lady Mary about a Little Boy who was eaten by a 
 Bear In the Province of New Brunswick — Of a Baby who was 
 carried away, but taken alive — A Walk in the Garden — Hum- 
 ming- Birds — Canadian Balsam-s i;{!) 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights, most frequently seen in 
 northern Climates — Called Merry Dancers— Rose Tints — Tint- 
 like Appearance — Lady Mary frightened 150 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Strawberries — Canadian Wild Fruits — Wild Raspberries— Tlie 
 Hunter and the Lost Child-^Cranberries — Cranberry Marshes 
 — Nuts 1C3 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 Gartor-snakes — Rattle-snakes — Anecdote of a Little Boy — Fisher- 
 man and Snake — Snake Charmers — Spiders — Land-Tortoise . . 178 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 Ellen and her Pet Fawns — Docility of Fan — Jack's Droll Tricks 
 — Affectionate Wolf — Fall Flowers — Departure of Lady Mary 
 — TheEnd ISO 
 
 'f 
 
 « 
 
119 
 
 132 
 
 i.-'.a 
 
 15G 
 
 1C3 
 
 ISO 
 
 s 
 
 ■I 
 
 i 
 
 AFAR IN THE FOREST. 
 
 CHArTER I. 
 
 THE FLYING SQUIRKET, — ITS FOOD — STORY OF A WOLF — 
 INDIAN VILLAGE — WILD RICE. 
 
 u •i-iwi.^XJRSE, what is the name of that pretty 
 creature you have in your hand ? What 
 bright eyes it has ! What a soft tail — 
 just like a gray feather ! Is it a little beaver ? " asked 
 the Governor's little daughter, as her nurse came 
 into the room where her young charge, whom we 
 shall call Lady Mary, was playing with her doll. 
 
 Carefully sheltered against her breast, its velvet 
 nose just peeping from beneath her muslin necker- 
 chief, the nurse held a small gray-furred animal, of 
 the most delicate form and colour. 
 
 " No, my lady," she replied, " this is not a young 
 beaver ; a beaver is a much larger animal. A 
 beaver's tail is not covered with fur ; it is scaly, 
 broad, and flat ; it looks something like black leather, 
 
 I 
 
 . - ■•;*. 
 
- ' tl S ffft^^fSI— 
 
 10 
 
 AN EXCKLLENT DISH. 
 
 ?> 
 
 THE FLYINO SyilUllEL. 
 
 not very unlike that of my seal-skin slippers. The 
 Indians eat beavers' tails at their great feasts, and 
 think they make an excellent dish." 
 
 I 
 
 ■*i 
 
1 
 
 « 
 
 V 
 
 . 
 
 riie 
 and 
 
 THE FLYINO SQUIRRKI^ 
 
 11 
 
 '• Tf thoy aio black, and look like leather hIjocs, 
 I um very sure I hHouUI not like to cat them ; ro, 
 if you please, Mrs. Frazer, do not let mo liavc any 
 heavers' tails cooked for my dinner," said tlio little 
 lady, in a very decided tone. 
 
 " Indeed, my lady," replied her nurse, smiling, 
 " it would not be an easy thing to obtain, if you 
 wished to taste one, for beavers are not brought to 
 our market. It is only the Indians and hunters who 
 know how to trap them, and beavers are not so 
 plentiful as they used to be." 
 
 Mrs. Frazer would have told Lady Mary a great 
 deal about the way in which the trappers take the 
 beavers, but the little girl interrupted her by saying, 
 " Please, nurse, will you tell me the name of your 
 pretty pet ? Ah, sweet thing, what bright eyes j^ou 
 have!" she added, caressing the soft little head 
 which was just seen from beneath the folds of the 
 muslin handkerchief to which it timidly nestled, 
 casting furtive glances at the admiring child, while 
 the panting of its breast told the mortal terror that 
 shook its frame whenever the little girl's hand was 
 advanced to coax its soft back. 
 
 " It is a flying squirrel, Lady Mary," replied her 
 nurse ; " one of my brothers caught it a month ago, 
 when he was chopping in the forest. He thought it 
 might amuse your ladyship, and so he tamed it and 
 sent it to me in a basket filled with moss, with some 
 acorns, and hickory-nuts, and beech -mast for him to 
 eat on his journey, for the little fellow has travelled 
 
12 
 
 WHAT ARK HICKORY-NUTS ? 
 
 a long way : he came from the beech-woods, near 
 the town of Cobiirg, in the Upper Province." 
 
 " And where is Coburg, nurse ? Is it a large city 
 like Montreal or Quebec ?" 
 
 " No, my lady ; it is a large town on the shores 
 of the great Lake Ontario." 
 
 " And are there many woods near it ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but not so many as there used to be many 
 years ago. The forest is almost all cleared, and there 
 are fields of wheat and Indian corn, and nice farms 
 and pretty houses, where a few years back the lofty 
 forest grew dark and thick." 
 
 " Nurse, you said there were acorns, and hickory- 
 nuts, and beech-mast in the basket. I have seen 
 acorns at home in dear England and Scotland, and 
 I have eaten the hickory-nuts here ; but what is 
 beech-mast ? Is it any part of a Canadian ship ?" 
 
 The nurse smiled and said, " No, Lady Mary ; it 
 is the name that is given to the fruit of the beech- 
 tree. You have seen the beech-tree in England; the 
 nuts are enclosed in a rough and somewhat prickly 
 husk, which opens when it is ripe at the top, and 
 shows two or more three-cornered shining brown 
 seeds, in a smooth, tough, leathery skin ; these fall 
 when the branches are shaken by the wind in 
 autumn. Hogs fatten upon these nuts ; and squirrels 
 and dormice and wood-chucks gather them into 
 their granaries for winter stores ; and wild ducks and 
 wild pigeons come from the far north at the season 
 when the beech-mast fall to eat them ; for God 
 
 i 
 
 : 
 
A CRUEL BITE. 
 
 IP. 
 
 /; 
 
 teaches those, his creatures, to know the times and 
 tlie seasons when his hounteous hand is open to give 
 tliem food from his boundless store. A great many 
 other hirds and beasts also feed upon tlie beech-mast.'' 
 
 " It was very good of your brother to send me 
 this pretty creature, nurse," said the little lady ; '' I 
 will ask papa to give him some money." 
 
 " There is no need of that, Lady Mary. My 
 brother is not in want ; he has a farm in the Upper 
 Province, and is very well off." 
 
 " I am glad he is well off," said Lady Mary ; 
 " indeed, I do not see so many beggars here as in 
 England." 
 
 " People need not beg in Canada, if they are well 
 and strong and can work ; a poor man can soon earn 
 enough money to keep himself and his little ones." 
 
 " Nurse, will you be so kind as to ask Campbell 
 to get a pretty cage for my squirrel ? I will let 
 him live close to my dormice, which will be pleasant 
 company for my dear little squirrel, and I will feed 
 him every day myself with nuts and sugar, and sweet 
 cake and white bread. Now do not tremble and 
 look so frightened, as though I were going to hurt 
 you ; and pray, Mr. Squirrel, do not bite. Oh ! nurse, 
 nurse, the wicked, spiteful creature has bitten my 
 finger ! See, see, it has made it bleed ! Naughty 
 thing ! I will not love you if you lite. Pray, nurse, 
 bind up my finger, or it will soil my frock." 
 
 Great was the pity bestowed upon the wound by 
 Lady Mary's kind attendant, till the little girl, tired 
 
1 
 
 14 
 
 WHERE ARE ITS WINGS 1 
 
 
 of hearing so much said about the bitten finger, 
 gravely desired her maid to go in search of the cage 
 and catch the truant, which had effected its escape, 
 and was clinging to the curtains of the bed. The 
 cage was procured — a large wooden cage, with an 
 outer and an inner chamber, a bar for the little 
 fellow to swing himself on, a drawer for his food, 
 and a little dish for his water. The sleeping-room 
 was furnished by the nurse with soft wool, and a fine 
 store of nuts was put in the drawer ; all his wants 
 were well supplied, and Lady Mary watched the 
 catching of the little animal with much interest. 
 Great was the activity displayed by the runaway 
 squirrel, and still greater the astonishment evinced 
 by the Governor's little daughter at the flying leaps 
 made by the squirrel in its attempts to elude the 
 grasp of its pursuers. 
 
 " It flies ! I am sure it must have wings. Look, 
 look, nurse ! it is here, now it is on the wall, now 
 on the curtains ! It must have wings ; but it has no 
 feathers ! " 
 
 " It has no wings, dear lady, but it has a fine 
 ridge of fur that covers a strong sinew or muscle 
 between the fore and hinder legs ; and it is by the 
 help of this muscle that it is able to spring so far 
 and so fast ; and its claws are so sharp, that it can 
 cling to a wall or any flat surface. The black and 
 red squirrels, and the common gray, can jump very 
 far and run up the bark of the trees very fast, but 
 Jiot so fast as the flying squirrel.'' 
 
 . 
 
PINING FOR LIBERTY. 
 
 15 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 i! 
 
 At last Lady Mary's maid, with the help of one 
 of the housemaids, succeeded in catching the squirrel 
 and securing him within his cage. But though 
 Lady Mary tried all her words of endearment to 
 coax the little creature to eat some of the good 
 things that had been provided so liberally for his 
 entertainment, he remained sullen and motionless at 
 the bottom of the cage. A captive is no less a 
 captive in a cage with gilded bars and with dainties 
 to eat, than if rusted iron shut him in, and kept him 
 from enjoying his freedom. It is for dear liberty 
 that he pines and is sad, even in the midst of plenty ! 
 
 " Dear nurse, why does my little squirrel tremble 
 and look so unhappy ? Tell me if he wants anything 
 to eat that we have not given him. Why does he not 
 lie down and sleep on the nice soft bed you have 
 made for him in his little chamber ? See, he has 
 not tasted the nice sweet cake and sugar that I gave . 
 him." 
 
 " He is not used to such dainties. Lady Mary. In 
 the forest he feeds upon hickory-nuts, and butter- 
 nuts, and acorns, and beech-mast, and the buds of 
 the spruce, fir and pine kernels, and many other seeds 
 and nuts and berries that we could not get for him; 
 he loves grain too, and Indian corn. He sleeps on 
 green moss and leaves, and fine fibres of grass and 
 roots, and drinks heaven's blessed dew, as it lies 
 bright and pure upon the herbs of the field." 
 
 " Dear little squirrel ! pretty creature ! I know 
 now what makes you sad. You long to be abroad 
 
 11 
 
IKMMMNMVi 
 
 IG 
 
 THE HOME OF YOUTH. 
 
 among your own green woods, and sleeping on the 
 soft green moss, wliich is far prettier than this ugly 
 cotton wool. But you shall stay with me, my sweet 
 one, till the cold winter is past and gone, and the 
 spring flowers have come again ; and then, my pretty 
 squirrel, I will take you out of your dull cage, and 
 we will go to St. Helen's green island, and I will 
 let you go free ; but I will put a scarlet collar about 
 your neck before I let you go, that if any one finds 
 you, they may know that you are my squirrel. Were 
 you ever in the green forest, nurse ? I hear papa 
 talk about the * Bush ' and the ' Backwoods ; ' it 
 must be very pleasant in the summer to live among 
 the green trees. Were you ever there ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear lady ; T did live in the woods when I 
 was a child. I was born in a little log-shanty, far, 
 far away up the country, near a beautiful lake called 
 Rice Lake, among woods, and valleys, and hills 
 covered with flowers, and groves of pine, and white 
 and black oaks." 
 
 " Stop, nurse, and tell me why they are called 
 black and white ; are the flowers black and white?" 
 
 " No, my lady ; it is because the wood of the one 
 is darker than the other, and the leaves of the black 
 oak are dark and shining, while those of the white 
 oak are brighter and lighter. The black oak is a 
 beautiful tree. When I was a young girl, I used to 
 like to climb the sides of the steep valleys, and look 
 down upon the tops of the oaks that grew beneath, 
 and to watch the wind lifting the boughs all glitter- 
 
 (211) 
 
 '■»• 
 
 I-. 
 
NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 
 
 17 
 
 le 
 
 
 2k 
 
 te 
 
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 ^ 
 
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 r- 
 
 
 
 
 ing in the moonliglit ; they lookcil like a sea of 
 ruffled green water. It is very solemn, Lady Mary, 
 to be in the woods by night, and to hear no sound 
 but the cry of the great wood-owl, or the voice of 
 the whip-poor-will, calling to his fellow from the 
 tamarack swamp, or, may be, the timid bleating of 
 a fawn that has lost its mother, or the howl of a 
 wolf." 
 
 " Nurse, I should be so afraid ; I am sure I should 
 cry if I heard the wicked wolves howling in the dark 
 woods by night. Did you ever know any one who 
 was eaten by a wolf?" 
 
 " No, my lady ; the Canadian wolf is a great 
 coward. I have heard the hunters say that they 
 never attack any one unless there is a great flock to- 
 gether and the man is alone and unarmed. My uncle 
 used to go out a great deal hunting, sometimes by 
 torchlight, and sometimes on the lake, in a canoe 
 with the Indians ; and he shot and trapped a great 
 many wolves and foxes and racoons. He has a gi*eat 
 many heads of wild animals nailed up on the stoup 
 in front of his log- house." 
 
 " Please tell me what a stoup is, nurse?" 
 
 " A verandah, my lady, is the same thing, only the 
 old Dutch settlers gave it the name of a stoup, and 
 the stoup is heavier and broader, and not quite so 
 nicely made as a verandah. One day my uncle was 
 crossing the lake on the ice ; it was a cold winter 
 afternoon ; he was in a hurry to take some food to 
 his brothers, who were drawing pine-logs in the 
 
 (211) 2 
 
\ 
 
 18 
 
 A GALLANT ENCOUNTER. 
 
 
 I 
 
 AOVENTUBE WITH A WOI,F. 
 
 bush. He had, besides a bag of meal and flour, a 
 new axe on his shouhler. He heard steps as of a 
 
" 
 
 < 
 
 lour, a 
 IS of a 
 
 \ 
 
 THE WOLF KILLED. 
 
 10 
 
 dog trotting after him ; he turned his head, and 
 there he saw, close at his heels, a big, hungry-looking 
 gray wolf; he stopped and faced about, and the big 
 beast stopped and showed his white sharp teeth. 
 My uncle did not feel afraid, but looked steadily at 
 the wolf, as much as to say, ' Follow me if you dare,' 
 and walked on. When my uncle stopped, the wolf 
 stopped ; when he went on, the beast also went on." 
 
 " I would have run away," said Lady Mary. 
 
 " If my uncle had let the wolf see that he was 
 afraid of him, he would have grown bolder, and have 
 run after him and seized him. All animals are 
 afraid of brave men, but not of cowards. When the 
 beast came too near, my uncle faced him and showed 
 the bright axe, and the wolf then shrank back a few 
 paces. When my uncle got near the shore, he heard 
 a long wild cry, as if from twenty wolves at once. 
 It might have been the echoes from the islands that 
 increased the sound; but it was very frightful and 
 made his blood chill, for he knew that without his 
 rifle he should stand a poor chance against a large 
 pack of hungry wolves. Just then a gun went off; 
 he heard the wolf give a temble yell, he felt the 
 whizzing of a bullet pass him, and turning about, 
 saw the wolf lying dead on the ice. A loud shout 
 from the cedars in front told him from whom the 
 shot came ; it was my father, who had been on the 
 look-out on the lake shore, and he had fired at and 
 hit the wolf when he saw that he could do so without 
 liurting his brother." 
 
 -^ 
 

 H 
 
 20 
 
 AN INDIAN WIGWAM. 
 
 " Nurse, it would have been a sad thing if the gun 
 had shot your uncle." 
 
 " It would ; but my father was one of the best 
 shots in the district, and could hit a white spot on 
 the bark of a tree with a precision that was perfectly 
 wonderful. It was an old Indian from Buckhorn 
 Lake who taught him to shoot deer by torchlight 
 and to trap beavers." 
 
 " Well, I am glad that horrid wolf was killed, 
 for wolves eat sheep and lambs ; and I daresay they 
 would devour my little squirrel if they could get 
 him. Nurse, please to tell me again the name of 
 the lake near which you were born." 
 
 "It is called Rice Lake, my lady. It is a fine 
 piece of water, more than twenty miles long, and 
 from three to five miles broad. It has pretty wooded 
 islands, and several rivers or streams empty them- 
 selves into it. The Otonabee River is a fine broad 
 stream, which flows through the forest a long way. 
 Many years ago, there were no clearings on the 
 banks, and no houses, only Indian tents or wigwams ; 
 but now there are a great many houses and farms." 
 
 " What are wigwams?" 
 
 " A sort of light tent, made with poles stuck into 
 the ground in a circle, fastened together at the top, 
 and covered on the outside with skins of wild animals, 
 or with birch bark. The Indians light a fire of 
 sticks and logs on the ground, in the middle of the 
 wigwam, and lie or sit all round it ; the smoke goes 
 up to the top and escapes. Or sometimes, in the 
 
 %. 
 
 "11 
 
" HOME, SWEET HOME !" 
 
 21 
 
 \: 
 
 INDIAN WIQWAMa. 
 
 warm summer weather, they kindle their fire without, 
 and their squaws, or wives, attend to it ; while they 
 go hunting in the forest, or, mounted on swift horses, 
 pursue the trail of their enemies. In the winter, 
 they bank up the wigwam with snow, and make it 
 very warm." 
 
 " I think it must be a very ugly sort of house, 
 and I am glad I do not live in an Indian wigwam," 
 said the little lady. 
 
 " The Indians are a very simple folk, my lady, 
 and do not need fine houses like this in which your 
 papa lives. They do not know the names or uses of 
 half the fine things that are in the houses of the 
 white people. They are happy and contented without 
 
22 
 
 "WATER OATS. 
 
 them. It is not the richest that are happiest, Lady 
 Mary, and the Lord careth for tlio poor and tlio 
 lowly. There is a village on the shores of Rice Lake 
 where the Indians live. It is not very pretty. The 
 houses are all built of logs, and some of them have 
 gardens and orchards. They have a neat church, 
 and they have a good minister, who takes great pains 
 to teach them the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 The poor Indians were Pagans until within the last 
 few years." 
 
 " What are Pagans, nurse ? " 
 
 " People, Lady Mary, who do not believe in God 
 and the Lord Jesus Christ, our blessed Saviour." 
 
 "Nurse, is there real rice growing in the llicu 
 Lake ? I heard my governess say that rice grew 
 only in warm countries. Now, your lake must be 
 very cold if your uncle walked across the ice." 
 
 " This rice, my lady, is not real rice. I heard a 
 gentleman tell my father that it was, properly speak- 
 ing, a species of oats * — water oats, he called it ; but 
 the common name for it is wild rice. This wild rice 
 grows in vast beds in the lake in patches of many 
 acres. It will grow in water from eight to ten or 
 twelve feet deep ; the grassy leaves float upon the 
 water like long narrow green ribbons. In the month 
 of August, the stem that is to bear the flower and 
 the grain rises straight up above the surface, and 
 light delicate blossoms come out of a pale straw 
 colour and lilac. They are very pretty, and wave 
 
 * Zizania, or water oats. 
 
 ,.| 
 
 -:*t 
 
AN USEFUL ri,ANT. 
 
 23 
 
 
 in the wind with ti rustling noise. In the month of 
 October, when the rice is ripe, the leaves turn 
 yellow, and the rice-heads grow heavy and droop ; 
 then the squaws — as the Indian women are called — 
 go out in their birch-bark canoes, holding in one 
 hand a stick, in the other a short curved paddle with 
 a sharp edge. With this they bend down the rice 
 across the stick and strike off the heads, which fall 
 into the canoe, as they push it along through the 
 rice-beds. In this way they collect a great many 
 bushels in the course of the day. The wild rice is 
 not the least like the rice which your ladyship has 
 eaten; it is thin, and covered with a light chaffy 
 husk. The colour of the grain itself is a brownish- 
 green, or olive, smooth, shining, and brittle. After 
 separating the outward chaff, the squaws put by a 
 large portion of the clean rice in its natural state for 
 sale ; for this they get from a dollar and a half to 
 two dollars a bushel. Some they parch, either in 
 large pots, or on mats made of the inner bark of 
 cedar or bass wood, beneath which they light a slow 
 fire, and plant around it a temporary hedge of green 
 boughs closely set, to prevent the heat from escap- 
 ing; they also drive stakes into the ground, over 
 which they stretch the matting at a certain height 
 above the fire. On this they spread the green rice, 
 stirring it about with wooden paddles till it is 
 properly parched ; this is known by its bursting and 
 showing the white grain of the flour. When quite 
 cool it is stowed away in troughs, scooped out of 
 
 ^1 
 
J. ■♦ 
 
 I! 
 
 21 
 
 " MULTUM IN PARVO." 
 
 butter-nut wooil, or else sewed up in slicets of birch- 
 bark or bass-mats, or in coarsely-niado birch-bark 
 basketK." 
 
 " And is tlie rice good to eat, nurse?" 
 
 " Sonic people like it as well as the white rite of 
 Carolina ; but it does not look so well. It is a 
 great blessing to the poor Indians, who boil it in 
 their soups, or eat it with maple molasses. And 
 they eat it when parched without any other cooking, 
 when they are on a long journey in the woods, or on 
 the lakes. I have often eaten nice puddings made 
 of it with milk. The deer feed upon the green rice. 
 They swim into the water and eat the green leaves 
 and tops. The Indians go out at night to shoot the 
 deer on the water ; they listen for them, and shoot 
 them in the dark. The wild ducks and water-fowls 
 come down in great flocks to fatten on the ripe rice 
 in the fall of the year ; also large flocks of rice bunt- 
 ings and red wings, which make their roosts among 
 the low willows, flags, and lilies, close to the shallows 
 of the lake." 
 
 " It seems very useful to birds as well as to men 
 and beasts," said little Lady Mary. 
 
 " Yes, my lady, and to fishes also, I make no 
 doubt ; for the good God has cast it so abundantly 
 abroad on the waters, that I daresay they also have 
 their share. . When the rice is fully ripe, the sun 
 shining on it gives it a golden hue, just like a field 
 of ripened grain. Surrounded by the deep-blue 
 waters, it looks very pretty." t^ 
 
 \\ 
 
.■I 
 
 80MF.T1IINO WORK TO COMK. 25 
 
 " I am very jnuch ol.ligod to you. imrso, for tell- 
 ing me m mucli about the Indian rite, and I will 
 ank mamnui to let me hav§ some one day for my 
 dinner, that I may know how it tastoM." 
 
 Just then Lady Mary's pfoverness came to bid lier 
 nurso dress her for a slei.s-h-ride, and so for tho 
 present wo shall leave her; but wo will toll our 
 little readers something more in another chapter 
 about Lady Mary ami her flying squirrel. 
 
f 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 SLEKilllNG — SLEIGH KOBKS — FUll CAPS — OTTEU SKINS — OLD 
 
 SNOW-STOKM^OTTEJl HUNTING OTTEE SLIDES — INDIAN 
 
 NAMES — KEMARKS ON WILD ANIMALS AND THEIK HABITS. 
 
 URSE, we have liatl a very nice sleigh- 
 drive. I like sleighing very much over 
 the white snow. The trees look so 
 pretty, as if they were ''ovcred with white flowers, and 
 the ground sparkled just like mamma's diamonds." 
 " It is pleasant, Lady Mary, to ride through the 
 woods on a bright sunshiny day, after a fresh fall of 
 snow. The young evergreens, hemlocks, balsams, 
 and spruce-trees, are loaded with great masser. of the 
 new-fallen snow; while the slender saplings of the 
 beech, birch, and basswood (the lime or linden) are 
 bent down to the very gi-ound, making bowers so 
 bright and beautiful, you would be delighted to see 
 them. Sometimes, as you drive along, great masses 
 of the snow come showering down upon you ; but it 
 is so light and diy, that it shakes off without wetting 
 you. It is pleasant to be wrapped up in warm 
 l)lankcts, or buffalo robes, at the bottom of a lumber- 
 sleigh, and to travel through the forest by moon- 
 
THE MKRllY, MERRY SLEIGH. 
 
 27 
 
 light; the merry bells echoing tlirough the silent 
 woods, and the stars just peeping down through the 
 frosted trees, which sparkle like diamonds in the 
 moonbeams." 
 
 " Nurse, I should like to take a drive through the 
 forest in winter. It is so nice to hear the sleigh-bells. 
 We used sometimes to go out in the snow in Scot- 
 land, but we were in the carriage, and had no bells." 
 
 "No, Lady Mary; the snow seldom lies long 
 enough in the old country to make it worth while 
 to have sleighs there; but in Russia and Sweden, 
 and other cold Northern countries, they use sleighs 
 with bells." 
 
 Lady Mary ran to the little bookcase where she 
 had a collection of children's books, and very soon 
 found a picture of Laplanders and Russians wrapped 
 in furs. 
 
 " How long will the winter last, nurse?" said the 
 child, after she had tired herself with looking at the 
 prints; "a long, long time — a great many weeks? — 
 IX great many months ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lady; five or six months." 
 
 "Oh, that is nice — nearly half a year of white 
 Bnow, and sleigh-drives every day, and bells ringing 
 uU the time ! I tried to make out a tune, but thoy 
 only seemed to say, ' Up-hill, up-hill ! down-hill, 
 down-hill ! ' all the way. Nurse, please tell me 
 what are sleigh-robes made of?" 
 
 " Some sleigh-robes. Lady Mary, are made of 
 be."v-skins, lined with red or blue flannel ; some are 
 
mmm 
 
 28 
 
 A NOVEL IIEAD-DRKSS. 
 
 of wolf-skins, lined Avith bright scarlet cloth ; and 
 some of racoon ; the commonest are buffalo-skins ; I 
 have seen some of deer-skins, but these last are not 
 so good, as the hair comes off, and they are not so 
 warm as the skins of the furred or woolly-coated 
 animals." 
 
 " I sometimes see long tails hanging down over 
 the backs of the sleigh and cutters — they look very 
 pretty, like the end of mamma's boa." 
 
 " The wolf and racoon skin robes are generally 
 made up with the tails, and sometimes the heads of 
 the animals are also left. I noticed the head of a 
 wolf, with its sharp ears, and long white teeth, 
 looking very fierce, at the back of a cutter, the 
 other day." 
 
 " Nurse, that must have looked very droll. Do 
 you know I saw a gentleman the other day, walking 
 with papa, who had a fox-skin cap on his head, and 
 the fox's nose was just peeping over his shoulder, and 
 the tail hung down his back, and I saw its bright 
 black eyes looking so cunning. I thought it must 
 be alive, and that it had curled itself round his 
 head ; but the gentleman took it off, and showed 
 me that the eyes were glass." 
 
 " Some hunters. Lady Mary, make caps of otter, 
 mink, or badger skins, and ornament them with the 
 tails, heads, and claws." 
 
 " I have seen a picture of the otter, nurse ; it is a 
 pretty, soft-looking thing, with a round head and 
 hlack eyes. Where do otters live? " 
 
 1 
 
INDIAN NAMES. 
 
 20 
 
 " The Canadian otters, Lady Mary, live in holes 
 in the banks of sedgy, shallow lakes, mill-ponds, 
 and sheltered creeks. The Indian hunters find their 
 haunts by tracking their steps in the snow ; for an 
 Indian or Canadian hunter knows the track made 
 by any bird or beast, from the deep broad print of 
 the bear, to the tiny one of the little shrewmouse, 
 which is the smallest four-footed beast in this or any 
 other country. 
 
 " Indians catch the otter, and many other wild 
 animals, in a sort of trap, which they call a ' dead- 
 fall.' Wolves are often so trapped, and then shot. 
 The Indians catch the otter for the sake of its dark 
 shining fur, which is used by the hatters and furriers. 
 Old Jacob Snow-storm, an old Indian who lived on 
 the banks of the Eice Lake, used to catch otters ; 
 and I have often listened to him, and laughed at his 
 stories." 
 
 " Do, please, nurse, tell me what old Jacob 
 Snow-storm told you about the otters ; I like to hear 
 stories about wild beasts. But what a droll sur- 
 name Snow-storm is ! " 
 
 " Yes, Lady Mary; Indians have very odd names; 
 they are called after all sorts of strange things. 
 They do not name the children, as we do, soon after 
 they are born, but wait for some remarkable circum- 
 stance, some dream or accident. Some call them 
 after the first strange animal or bird that appears to 
 the new-born. Old Snow-storm most likely owed 
 his name to a heavy fall of snow when he was u 
 
r 
 
 "■S fel^H t W lll Ul Bp 
 
 >-*6«**5 
 
 I 
 
 30 
 
 ^V^ATS IN A NAME? 
 
 haby. I knew a chief named Musk-rat, and a 
 pretty Indian girl who was named ' 13adau'-bun ' — ■ 
 Lifjht of the MornirKj." 
 
 " And what is the Indian name for Old Snow- 
 storm?" 
 
 " ' Be-clie-go-ke-poor,' my hidy." 
 
 Lady Mary said it was a funny sounding name, 
 and not at all like Snow-storm, which she liked a 
 great deal better; and £ihe was much amused while 
 her nurse repeated to her some names of squaws and 
 papooses (Indian women and children); such as 
 Long Thrush, Little Fox, Running Stream, Snow- 
 bird, Red Cloud, Young Eagle, Big Bush, and many 
 others. 
 
 " Now, nurse, will you tell me some more about 
 Jacob Snow-storm and the otters ? " 
 
 " Well, Lady Mary, the old man had a cap of 
 otter-skin, of w^hich he was very proud, and only 
 wore on great days. One day as he was playing 
 with it, he said: — ' Otter funny fellow; he like play 
 too, sometimes. Indian go hunting up Ottawa, that 
 great big river, you know. Gro one moonlight 
 night ; lie down under bushes in snow ; see lot of 
 little fellow and big fellow at play. Run up and 
 down bank; bank all ice. Sit down top of bank; 
 good slide there. Down he go splash into water ; 
 out again. Funny fellow thoso ! ' And then the 
 old hunter threw back his head, and laughed, till 
 you could have seen all his white teeth, he opened 
 his mouth so wide." 
 
 f 
 
 % 
 
 \ 
 
 H 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 l^ 
 

 * 
 
 ll 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 ALL ABOUT THE OTTKRS. 
 
 
 31 
 
 
 
 THE OTTERS. 
 
 Lady Mary was veiy much amused at the comical 
 way in which tlie ohl Indian talked. 
 
 " Can otters swim, nurse?" 
 
 " Yes, Lady Mary; the good (^lod who has created 
 all things well, has given to this animal wehhed 
 feet, which enable it to swim; and it can also dive 
 down in the deep water, where it finds fish and 
 
 ^ 
 
32 
 
 A BEAST OF PREY. 
 
 mussels, and perhaps the roots of some water-phmts 
 to eat. It makes very little motion or disturbance 
 in the water when it goes down in search of its 
 prey. Its coat is thick, and formed of two kinds of 
 hair; the outer hair is long, silky, and shining; the 
 under part is short, fine, and warm. The water 
 cannot penetrate to wet them, — the oily nature of 
 the fur throws off the moisture. They dig large 
 holes with their claws, which are short, hut very 
 strong. They line their nests with dry grass, and 
 rushes, and roots gnawed fine, and do not pass the 
 winter in sleep, as the dormice, flying squirrels, 
 racoons, and bears do. They are very innocent and 
 playful, both when young, and even after they grow 
 old. The lumberers often tame them, and they 
 become so docile that they will come at a call or 
 whistle. Like all wild animals, they are most 
 lively at night, when they come out to feed and 
 play." 
 
 " Dear little things ! I should like to have a 
 tame otter to play with, and run after me; but do 
 you think he would eat my squirrel? You know 
 cats will eat squirrels — so mamma says." 
 
 " Cats belong to a very different class of animals ; 
 Ihey are beasts of prey, formed to spring and bound, 
 and tear with their teeth and claws. The otter is 
 also a beast of prey, but its prey is found in the 
 still waters, and not on the land ; it can neither 
 climb nor leap. So I do not think he -^ ouid hurt 
 your squirrel, if you had one.'* 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 'I 
 
GOD IN CREATION. 
 
 33 
 
 '* Soc, iiurso, my dear little squirrel is still where 
 I left him, dinging to the wires of the cage, his 
 bright eyes looking like two black beads.' 
 
 " As soon as it grows dark he will begin to be 
 more lively, and perhaps he will eat something, but 
 not while we look at him — he is too shy for that." 
 
 " Nurse, how can they see to eat in the dark?" 
 
 " The good God, Lady Mary, has so formed their 
 eyes that they can see best by night. I will road 
 you, Lady IMary, a few verses from Psalm civ. : — 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 
 IS 
 
 le 
 
 i 
 
 1^ 
 
 " * Verse 19. He appointed the moon for seasons : the sun knoweth 
 his going down. 
 
 " ' 20. Thou makcst darkness, and it is niglit : wherein all the beasts 
 of the forest do creep forth. 
 
 " '21. The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat 
 from God. 
 
 "'22. The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay 
 them down in their dens. 
 
 " ' 23. Man goetli forth unto his work and to his labour, until the 
 evening. 
 
 " ' 24. O Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast thou 
 made tliem all : the earth is full of thy riches.' 
 
 " Thus you see, my dear lady, that our heavenly 
 Father taketh care of all his creatures, and provideth 
 for them both by day and by night." 
 
 " I remember, nurse, that my dormice used to lie 
 quite still, nestled among the moss and wool in their 
 little dark chamber in the cage, all day long ; but 
 when it was niglit they used to come out and frisk 
 about, and run along the wires, and play all sorts 
 of tricks, chasing one another round and round, and 
 they were not afraid of me, but would let me look 
 at them while they ate a nut, or a bit of sugar; aud 
 
 (211) 3 
 
 .» 
 
 s 
 
 > ■ V •• 
 
■ 
 
 t 
 
 now TIIR DORMICE FRED, 
 
 
 I.ADT MARV SLEialllNO HER DOLL. 
 
 '^/^/^^^ 
 
 „,„ dear little things wonW rtrink out of thelv little 
 white saucer, and ^va* their faces and ta,ls-,t was 
 
 «o pretty to see *';«'"'•" ^^^ ,!„„,;,« 
 
 "Bid you notice, Lady iuaiy, no\> 
 
 held their food ? " 
 
 
DOLLY S SLEIGII-RIDE. 
 
 .9r. 
 
 / f/ 
 
 I 
 
 
 " Yes; they sat up, and hold it in their fore-paws, 
 whicli looked just like tiny hands." 
 
 *' There are many animals whose foro-feet rescmhle 
 hands, and these, generally, convey their food to 
 their mouths — among these are the squirrel and 
 dormice. They are good climbers and diggers. 
 You see, my dear young lady, how the merciful 
 Creator has given to all his creatures, however 
 lowly, the best means of supplying their wants, 
 whether of food or shelter." 
 
 " Indeed, nurse, I have learned a great ileal about 
 squirrels, Canadian rice, otters, and Indians ; but, if 
 you please, I must now have a little play with my 
 doll. Good-bye, Mrs. Frazer; pray take care of my 
 dear little squirrel, and mind that he does not fly 
 away." And Lady Mary was soon busily engaged 
 in drawing her wax doll about the nursery in a little 
 sleigh lined with red squirrel fur robes, and talking 
 to her as all children like to talk to their dolls, 
 whether they be rich or poor — the children of peas- 
 ants, or governors' daughters. 
 
 little 
 t was 
 
 irmice 
 
 V|bB»f" 
 
-i 
 
 CTIAPTEll III. 
 
 LAUY MAUY ItKADS TO MI!S. FUAZEU TlfK r'HtST V\UV 01'" THli 
 inSTORV OF THE .SCiUIllUEL FAMILY. 
 
 NE tlay Lady Mary came to her nurse, and 
 putting lier arms about lier n.x'k, wliis- 
 pored to her, — '' Mrs. Frazer, my dear 
 good governess has given me something — it is in 
 my hand," and she slily held hw hand behind her — 
 " will you guess what it is?"' 
 
 " Is it a book, my lady ?"' 
 
 " Yes, yes, it is a book, a pret'} book ; and see, here 
 are pictures of squirrels in it. i»irs. Frazer, if you 
 like, I will sit down on this cushion by you and read 
 some of my new book. It docs not seem very hard." 
 
 Then Mrs. Frazer took out her work-basket and 
 sat down to sew, and Lady Mary began to read the 
 little story, which, I hope, may entertain my little 
 readers as much as it did the Governor's daughter. 
 
 ^iirt i. 
 
 TUn niSTORY OF A SQUIRREL FAMILY. 
 
 It must be a pleasant thing to be a squirrel, and 
 live a life of freedom in the boundless forests ; to 
 
 (' 
 
 
 1 
 
 n 
 
SQUIUIirX 1,1 FK. 
 
 37 
 
 here 
 you 
 
 read 
 
 ird. 
 and 
 the 
 ittle 
 
 and 
 ; to 
 
 ■ 
 
 loap and bound among the branches of the tall trees; 
 to gambol in the deep shade of the cool glossy 
 leaves, through the long warm summer day ; to 
 gather the fresh nuts and berries; to drink the 
 pure dews of heaven, all bright and sparkling 
 
 LAKY MAliy READING IIEU nOTD RK-IJUOK. 
 
 from the opening flowers; to sleep on soft beds 
 of moss and thistl6-down in some hollow branch 
 rocked by the wind as in a cradle. Yet, though 
 this was the ha})py life led by a family of pretty 
 gray squirrels that had their dwelling in the hoary 
 
 
 
 ' * 
 
38 
 
 THE IIEUO OF THK TALK 
 
 branch of an old oak-trco that grew on ono of the 
 rocky islands in a beautiful lake in Upper Canada, 
 called Stony Lake (because it was full of rocky 
 islands), these little creatures were far from being 
 contented, and were always wishing for a change. 
 Indeed, they had been very happy, till one day when 
 a great black squirrel swam to the island antl paid 
 them a visit. He was a very fine handsome fellow, 
 nearly twice as large as any of the gray squirrels ; 
 he had a tail that flourished over his back, when he 
 set it up, like a great black feather; his claws were 
 sharp and strong, and his eyes very round and 
 bright; he had upright cars, and long, sharp teeth, 
 of which he made good use. The old gray squirrels 
 called him cousin, and invited him to dinner. They 
 very civilly set before him some acorns and beech- 
 nuts; but he proved a hungry visitor, and ate as 
 much as would have fed the whole family for a week. 
 After the gray squirrels had cleared away the shells 
 and scraps, they asked their greedy guest where he 
 came from, when Blackie told them he was a great 
 traveller, and had seen many wonderful things; that 
 he had once lived on a forked pine at the head of 
 the Waterfall, but being tired of a dull life, he had 
 gone out on his travels to see the world; that he 
 had been down the lake, and along the river shore, 
 where there were great places cut out in the thick 
 forest, called clearings, where some very tall creatures 
 lived, who were called men and women, with young 
 ones called children; that though they were not so 
 
 
A L'UNNINO FKLLOW. 
 
 no 
 
 Itretty as 8(iuiirelH — lor tlicy luul no lur on tliein, 
 ,'Mid were obliged to make clothes to cover tlieni tind 
 keep them warm — they were very useful, and sowed 
 corn and planted fruit-trees and roots for K([uirrels 
 to eat, and even built large grain stores to keep it 
 safe and dry for them. 
 
 This seemed very strange, and the simple little 
 gray squirrels were 'cry much pleased, and said they 
 should like very much to go down the lakes too, and 
 see these wonderful things. 
 
 The black squirrel then told them that tliere were 
 many things to be seen in these clearings; that there 
 were large beasts, called oxen, and cows, and sheep, 
 and pigs; and these creatures had houses built for 
 them to live in; and all the men and women seemed 
 to employ themselves about, was feeding and taking 
 care of them. 
 
 Now this cunning fellow never told his simple 
 cousins that the oxen had to bear a heavy wooden 
 yoke and chain, and were made to work very hard ; 
 nor that the cows were fed that they might give 
 milk to the children; nor that the pigs were fatted 
 to make pork; nor that the sheep had their warm 
 fleeces cut ofi' every year that the settlers might 
 have the wool to spin and weave. Blackie did not 
 say that the men carried guns, and the dogs were 
 fierce, and would hunt poor squirrels from tree to 
 tree, frightening them almost to death with their 
 loud, angry barking; that cats haunted the barns 
 and houses; and, in short, that there were dangers 
 
 :«. 
 
40 
 
 TIR TAKRS IITS LEAVE. 
 
 US well as pleasures to be met with in these clear- 
 ings; and that the barns were built to shelter the 
 grain for men, and not for the benefit of squirrels. 
 
 The black squirrel proved rather a troublesome 
 guest, for he stayed several days, and ate so heartily, 
 that the old gray squirrels were obliged to hint that he 
 had better go back to the clearings, where there was 
 so much food, for that their store was nearly done. 
 
 When Blackie found that all the nice nuts were 
 eaten, and that even pine-kernels and beech-nuts 
 were becoming scarce, he went away, saying that he 
 should soon come again. 
 
 The old gray squirrels were glad when they saw 
 the tip of Blackie's tail disappear, as he whisked 
 down the trunk of the old oak; but their young 
 ones were very sorry that he was gone, for they liked 
 very much to listen to all his wonderful stories, 
 which they thought were true; and they told their 
 father and mother how they wished they would 
 leave the dull island and the old tree, and go down 
 the lakes, and see the wonderful things that their 
 black cousin had described. 
 
 But the old ones shook their heads, and said they 
 feared there was more fiction than truth in the tales 
 they had heard, and that if they w^ere wise they 
 would stay where they were. " What do you want 
 more, my dear children," said their mother, " than 
 you enjoy here ? Have you not this grand old oak 
 for a palace to live in ; its leaves and branches 
 spreading like a canopy over your heads, to shelter 
 
 i 
 
 
 I 
 
BE CONTENT WITH THE PRESENT. 
 
 41 
 
 I 
 
 you from the hot sun by day and the dews by night ? 
 Are there not moss, dried grass, and roots beneath, 
 to make a soft bed for you to lie upon ? and do not 
 the boughs drop down a plentiful store of brown 
 ripe acorns ? That silver lake, studded with islands 
 of all shapes and sizes, produces cool clear water for 
 you to drink and bathe yourselves in. Look at 
 those flowers that droop their blossoms down to its 
 glassy surface, and the white lilies that rest upon 
 its bosom, — will you see anything fairer or better if 
 you leave this place? Stay at home and be con- 
 tented." 
 
 " If I hear any more grumbling," said their father, 
 " [ shall pinch your ears and tails." So the little 
 squirrels said no more, but I am sorry to say they 
 did not pay much heed to their wise old mother's 
 counsels ; for whenever they were alone, all their 
 talk was how to run away, and go abroad to see the 
 world, as their black cousin had called the new 
 settlement down the lakes. It never came into the 
 heads of the sillv creatures that those wonderful 
 stories they had been told originated in an artful 
 scheme of the greedy black squirrel, to induce them 
 to leave their warm pleasant house in the oak, that 
 he and his children might come and live in it, and 
 get the hoards of grain, and nuts, and acorns, that 
 their father and mother had been laying up for 
 winter stores. 
 
 Moreover, the wily black squirrel had privately 
 told them that their father and mother intended to 
 
42 
 
 PLOTTING AN ESCAPADE. 
 
 ; I 
 
 i 
 
 tuiii theui out of tlie nest very soon, and make pro- 
 vision for a new family. This indeed was really the 
 case ; for as soon as young animals can provide for 
 themselves, their parents turn them off, and care no 
 niore for them. A^ery different, indeed, is this from 
 our parents ; for they love and cherish us as long as 
 they live, and afford us a home and shelter as long 
 as we need it. 
 
 Every hour these little gray squirrels grew more 
 and more impatient to leave the lonely little rocky 
 island, though it was a pretty spot, and the place of 
 their birth ; but they were now eager to go abroad 
 and seek their fortunes. 
 
 "Let us keep our own counsel," said Nimble-foot 
 to his sisters Velvet-paw and Silver-nose, " or we 
 may chance to get our tails pulled ; but be all ready 
 for a start by early dawn to-morrow." 
 
 Velvet-paw and Silver-nose said they would be 
 up before sunrise, as they should have a long voyage 
 down the lake, and agreed to rest on Pine Island 
 near the opening of Clear Lake. " And then take 
 to the shore and travel through the woods, where, 
 no doubt, we shall have a pleasant time," said 
 Nimble-foot, who was the most hopeful of the 
 party. 
 
 The sun was scarcely yet risen over the fringe of 
 dark pines that skirted the shores of the lake, and a 
 soft creamy mist hung on the surface of the still 
 waters, which were unruffled by tlie slightest breeze. 
 The little gray squirrels awoke, and looked sleepily 
 
 I 
 
 
 V 
 
 4 
 
AN AMERICAN LANDSCAPK. 
 
 43 
 
 i 
 
 out from the leafy screen that shaded their mossy 
 nest. The early notes of the wood-thrush and song- 
 sparrow, with the tender warbling of the tiny wren, 
 sounded sweetly in the still, dewy morning air ; 
 while from a cedar swamp was heard the trill of the 
 green frogs, which the squirrels thought very pretty 
 music. As the sun rose above the tops of the trees, 
 the mist rolled off in light fleecy clouds, and soon 
 was lost in the blue sky, or lay in large bright drops 
 on the cool grass and shining leaves. Then all the 
 birds awoke, and the insects shook, their gauzy 
 wings which had been folded all the night in the 
 flower-cups, and the flowers began to lift their heads, 
 and the leaves to expand to catch the golden light. 
 There was a murmur on the water as it played 
 among the sedges, and lifted the broad floating 
 leaves of the white water-lilies, with their carved 
 ivory cups ; and the great green, brown, and blue 
 dragon- flies rose with a whirring sound, and darted 
 to and fro among the water-flowers. 
 
 It is a glorious sight to see thS sun rise at any 
 time, for then we can look upon him without having 
 our eyes dazzled with the brightness of his beams ; 
 and though there were no men and women and 
 little children, in the lonely waters and woods, to 
 lift up their hands and voices in prayer and praise 
 to God, who makes the sun to rise each day, yet no 
 doubt the great Creator is pleased to see his crea- 
 tures rejoice in the blessings of light and heat. 
 
 Lightly running down the ruggea bark of the old 
 
44 
 
 THE TRUANTS ON THE LAKE. 
 
 oak-tree, tlie little squirrels bade farewell to their 
 island home — to the rocks, mosses, ferns, and flowers 
 that had sheltered them, among which they had so 
 often chased each other in merry gambols. They 
 thought little of all this, when they launched them- 
 selves on the silver bosom of the cool lake. 
 
 " How easy it is to swim in this clear water ! " 
 said Silver-nose to her sister Velvet-paw. " We 
 shall not be long in reaching yonder island, and 
 there, no doubt, we shall get a good breakfast." 
 
 So the little swimmers proceeded on their voyage, 
 furrowing the calm waters as they glided noiselessly 
 along; their soft gray heads and ears and round 
 black eyes only being seen, and the bright streaks 
 caused by the motion of their tails, which lay flat 
 on the surface, looking like silver threads gently 
 floating on the stream. 
 
 Not being much used to the fatigue of swimming, 
 the little squirrels were soon tired, and if it had not 
 been for a friendly bit of stick that happened to 
 float near lier, poor Velvet-i)aw would have been 
 drowned ; however, she got up on the stick, and, 
 setting up her fine broad tail, went merrily on, and 
 soon passed Nimble- foot and Silver-nose. The 
 current drew the stick towards the Pine Island that 
 lay at the entrance of Clear Lake, and Velvet-paw 
 leaped ashore, and sat down on a mossy stone to dry 
 her fur, and watch for her brother and sister : they, 
 too, found a large piece of birch-bark which the 
 winds had blown into the water, and as a little 
 
 \ 
 
 ]• 
 
KxNEMIES ON S1I0K15. 
 
 45 
 
 breeze had sprung up to waft them along, they were 
 not very long before they landed on the island. 
 They were all very glad when they met again, after 
 the perils and fatigues of the voyage. The first 
 thing to be done was to look for something to eat, 
 for their early rising had made them very hungry. 
 They found abundance of pine-cones strewn on the 
 ground, but, alas for our little squirrels ! very few 
 kernels in them ; for the crossbills and chiccadees 
 had been at work for many wcf^ks on the trees ; and 
 also many families of their poor relations, the chit- 
 munks or ground squirrels, had not been idle, as our 
 little voyagers could easily guess by the chips and 
 empty cones round their holes. So, weary as they 
 were, they were obliged to run up the tall pine ami 
 hemlock trees, to search among the cones that grew 
 on their very top branches. While our squirrels 
 were busy with the few kernels they chanced to find, 
 they were started from their repast by the screams 
 of a large slate-coloured hawk, and Velvet-paw very 
 narrowly escaped being pounced upon and carried 
 off in its sharp-hooked talons. Silver-nose at the 
 same time was nearly frightened to death by the 
 keen round eyes of a cunning racoon, which had 
 come within a few feet of the mossy branch of an 
 old cedar, where she sat picking the seeds out of a 
 dry head of a blue flag-flower she had found on the 
 shore. Silvy, at this sight, gave a spring that left 
 her many yards beyond her sharp-sighted enemy. 
 A lively note of joy was uttered by Nimble-foot, 
 
4fi 
 
 OUT IN THE WORLD. 
 
 I 
 
 for, perched at his case on a top branch of the hem- 
 lock-tree, he liad seen the bound made by Silver-nose. 
 
 " Well jumped, Silvy," said he ; " Mister Coon 
 must be a smart fellow to equal that. But look 
 sharp, or you will get your neck wrung yet ; I see 
 we must keep a good look-out in this strange 
 country." 
 
 " I begin to wish we were safe back again in our 
 old one," whined Silvy, who was much frightened 
 by the danger she had just escaped. 
 
 "Pooh, pooh, child; don't be a coward," said 
 Nimble, laughing. 
 
 " Cousin Blackie never told us there were hawks 
 and coons on this island," said Velvet-paw. 
 
 " My dear, he thought we were too brave to be 
 afraid of hawks and coons," said Nimble. " For 
 my part, I think it is a fine thing to go out a little 
 into the world. We should never see anything 
 better than the sky, and the water, and the old oak- 
 tree on that little island." 
 
 " Ay, but I think it is safer to see than to be 
 seen," said Silvy, " for hawks and eagles have strong 
 beaks, and racoons sharp claws and hungry-looking 
 teeth ; and it is not very pleasant. Nimble, to be 
 obliged to look out for such wicked creatures." 
 
 " Oh, true indeed," said Nimble ; " if it had not 
 been for that famous jump you made, Silvy, and, 
 Velvet, your two admirers, the hawk and racoon, 
 would soon have hid all your beauties from the 
 world, and put a stop to your travels." 
 
IN SEARCH OF A DINNER. 
 
 47 
 
 " It is very well for brother Nimble to make 
 light of our dangers," whispered Velvet-paw, " but 
 let us see how he will jump if a big eigle were to 
 pounce down to carry him off." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Silvy ; " it is easy to brag before 
 one is in danger." 
 
 The squirrels thought they would now go and 
 look for some partridge-berries, of which they were 
 very fond, for the pine-kernels were but dry husky 
 food after all. 
 
 There were plenty of the pretty white star-shaped 
 blossoms, growing all over the ground under the 
 pine-trees, but the bright scarlet twin-berries were 
 not yet ripe. In winter the partridges eat this fruit 
 from under the snow ; and it furnishes food for 
 many little animals as well as birds. The leaves 
 are small, of a dark green, and the white flowers 
 have a very fine fragrant scent. Though the run- 
 aways found none of these berries fit to eat, they saw 
 some ripe strawberries among the bushes ; and, 
 having satisfied their hunger, began to grow very 
 merry, and whisked here and there and everywhere, 
 peeping into this hole and under that stone. Some- 
 times they had a good game of play, chasing one 
 another up and down the trees, chattering and 
 squeaking as gray squirrels only can chatter and 
 squeak, when they are gambolling about in the wild 
 woods of Canada. 
 
 Indeed, they made such a noise, that the great 
 ugly black snakes lifted up their heads, and stared 
 
4Q 
 
 WEARY OF READINr.. 
 
 at tliem with their Avicked spiteful-looking eyes, 
 and the little ducklings swimming among the water- 
 lilies gathered round their mother, and a red-winged 
 blackbird perched on a dead tree gave alarm to the 
 rest of the flock by calling out, Gcck, gcck, ycck, as 
 loudly as he could. In the midst of their frolics. 
 Nimble skipped into a hollow log — but was glad to 
 run out again ; for a porcupine covered with sharp 
 spines was there, and was so angry at being dis- 
 turbed, that he stuck one of his spines into poor 
 Nimble-foot's soft velvet nose, and there it would 
 have remained if Silvy had not seized it with her 
 teeth and pulled it out. Nimble-foot squeaked 
 sadly, and would not play any longer, but rolled 
 himself up and went to sleep in a red-headed wood- 
 pecker's old nest ; while Silvy and Velvet-paw 
 frisked about in the moonlight, and when tired of 
 play got up into an old oak which had a large 
 hollow place in the crown of it, and fell asleep, 
 fancying, no doubt, that they were on the rocky 
 island in Stony Lake ; and so we will bid them 
 good night, and wish them pleasant dreams. 
 
 Lady Mary had read a long while, and was now 
 tired ; so she kissed her nurse, and said, " Now. 
 Mrs. Frazer, I will play with my doll, and feed my 
 squirrel and my dormice." 
 
 The dormice were two soft, brown creatures, almost 
 as pretty and as innocent as the squirrel, and a great 
 
 i 
 
MORE ABOUT THE TRUANTS. 
 
 49 
 
 as 
 
 (leal tamer; and they were called Jeannctte and Jean- 
 not, and would come when tliey were called by their 
 names, and take a hit of cake or a lump of sugar out 
 of the fingers of tlieir little mistress. Lady Mary 
 had two canaries, Dick and Pet ; and she loved her 
 dormice and birds, and her new ])et, the flying 
 squirrel, very much, and never let them want for 
 food, or water, or any nice thing she could get for 
 them. She liked the history of the gray squirrels 
 very much ; and was quite eager to get her book 
 the next afternoon, to read the second part of the 
 adventures and wanderings of the family. 
 
 Satt ii. 
 
 i 
 
 > 
 
 WHICH TELLS HOW THE OKAY SQUIRRELS GET ON WHILE 
 THEY REMAINED ON PINE ISLAND — HOW THEY BEHAVED TO 
 THEIR POOR RELATIONS, THE CHITMUNKS — AND WHAT 
 HAPPENED TO THEM IN THE FOREST. 
 
 It was noon when the little squirrels awoke, and, 
 of course, they were quite ready for their breakfast : 
 but there was no good, kind old mother to provide 
 for their wants, and to bring nuts, acorns, roots, or 
 fruit for them ; they must now get up, go forth, 
 and seek food for themselves. When Velvet-paw 
 and Silver-nose went to call Nimble-foot, they were 
 surprised to find his nest empty ; but after searching 
 a long while, they found him sitting on the root of 
 an up-turned tree, looking at a family of little chit- 
 
 (211) 4 
 
 
r>o 
 
 UNCOrRTEOUS HI II AVIOUK. 
 
 "^f^fi: 
 
 
 
 
 11- \ 
 
 "'^'/r . 
 
 THE GRAY SQUIKREL AND TIIK CHITMUNKft. 
 
 nmnks busily picking over the pine-cones on the 
 grountl ; but as soon as one of the poor little fellows, 
 with great labour, had dug out a kernel, and was 
 
 
 ? 
 
\> 
 
 
 --<«>; 
 
 RAT OR SQUIRRFL? 
 
 fit 
 
 propariiijL,' to oat it, down leaped Nimble-foot and 
 carried off the prize; and if one of tlic little cliit- 
 nninks ventured to say a word, lie very uncivilly 
 gave liim a scratch, or hit his ears, calling him a 
 mean, shabby fellow. 
 
 Now the chitniunks were really very pretty. 
 They were, to be sure, not more than half the size 
 of the gray squirrels, and their fur was short, 
 without the soft, thick glossy look upon it of the 
 gray squirrels'. They were of a lively, tawny 
 yellow-brown colour, with long black and white 
 stripes down their backs ; their tails were not so 
 long nor so thickly furred ; and instead of living in 
 the trees, they made their nests in logs and wind- 
 falls, and had their granaries and winter houses too 
 underground, where they made warm nests of dried 
 moss and grass and thistledown ; to these they had 
 several entrances, so that they had always a chance 
 of refuge if danger wcro nigh. Like the dormice, 
 flying squirrels, and ground hogs, they slept soundly 
 during the cold weather, only awakening when the 
 warm spring sun had melted the snow.* 
 
 The vain little gray squirrels thought themselves 
 mudi better than these little chitmunks, whom they 
 treated with very little politeness, laughing at them 
 for living in holes in the ground, instead of upon 
 lofty trees, as they did ; they even called them low- 
 
 ■ 
 
 ^ It is not quite certain tliat the chitfnunk is a true squirrel, and 
 lie is sometimes called a striped rat. This pretty animal seems, in- 
 deed, to form a link between the rat and squirrel. 
 
 . J:. .. 
 
62 
 
 ^VIIAT THE ClllTMUNKS SAID. 
 
 bred fellows, and wondered why they did not imitato 
 their higli-breediiig and behaviour. 
 
 Tlio ehitmunks took very little notice of their 
 rudeness, but merely said that, if being high-bred 
 made people rude, they would rather remain liunible 
 as they were. 
 
 " As we are the head of all the squirrel families," 
 said Silver-noso, " we shall do you the honour of 
 breakfasting with you to-day." 
 
 " Wo breakfasted hours ago, while you lazy 
 fellows were fast asleep," replied an old chitnmnk, 
 poking his little nose out of a hole in the ground. 
 
 " Then we shall dine with you ; so make haste and 
 get something good for us," said Nimble-foot. " I 
 have no doubt you have plenty of butter and hickory- 
 nuts laid up in your holes." 
 
 The old chitmunk told him he might come and 
 get them, if he could. 
 
 At this the gray squirrels skipped down from the 
 branches, and began to run hither and thither, and 
 to scratch among the moss and leaves, to find the 
 entrance to the chitmunks' grain stores. They 
 peeped under the old twisted roots of the pines and 
 cedars, into every chink and cranny, but no sign of 
 a granary was to be seen. 
 
 Then the chitmunks said, " My dear friends, this 
 is a bad season to visit us; we are very poor Just 
 now, finding it difficult to get a few dry pine-ker- 
 nels and berries; but if you will come and see us after 
 harvest, we shall have a store of nuts and acorns." 
 
LEFT IN TIIR LURCH. 
 
 M 
 
 of 
 
 *' Pietty follows you are!" repliod Niniblo, "to 
 put UH oft' with promises, when we are so hungry; 
 wo might Htarvo hetween this and harvest." 
 
 ** If you leave tliis island, and go down the lake, 
 you will come to a mill, where the red squirrels live, 
 and where you will have fine times," said one of the 
 chitmunks. 
 
 "Which is the nearest way to the mill?" asked 
 Velvet-paw. 
 
 " Swim to the shore, and keep the Indian path, 
 and you will soon see it." 
 
 But while the gray squirrels were looking out for 
 the path, the cunning chitmunks whisked away into 
 their holes, and left the inquirers in the lurch, who 
 could not tell what had become of them ; for though 
 they did find a round hole that they thought might 
 be one of their burrows, it was so narrow that they 
 could only poke in their noses, but could get no 
 further — the gray squirrels being much fatter and 
 bigger than the slim little chitmunks. 
 
 "After all," said Silvy, who was the best of the 
 three, " perhaps, if we had been civil, the chitmunks 
 would have treated us better." 
 
 " Well," said Nimble, " if they had been good 
 fellows, they would have invited us, as our mother did 
 Cousin Blackie, and have set before us the best they 
 had. I could find it in my heart to dig them out of 
 their holes and give them a good bite." This was all 
 brag on Nimble's part, who was not near so brave as 
 he wished Silvy and Velvet-paw to suppose he was. 
 
 i 
 
 ■^ 
 
fl 
 
 54 
 
 THINKING OF llOMK. 
 
 After spending some time in hunting for i.c jrns, 
 they made up their minds to leave the island, and as 
 it was not very far to the mainland, they decided on 
 swimming thither. 
 
 " Indeed," said Silver-nose, " I am tired of this 
 dull place ; we are not better off here than we were 
 in the little island in Stony Lake, where our good 
 old mother took care we should have plenty to eat, 
 and we had a nice warm nest to shelter us." 
 
 " Ah, well, it is of no use grumbling now ; if we 
 were to go back, we should only get a scolding, and 
 perhaps be chased off the island," said Nimble. " Now 
 let us have a race, and see which of us will get to 
 shore first ; " and he leaped over Velvet-paw's head, 
 and was soon swimming merrily for the shore. He 
 was soon followed by his companions, and in half an 
 hour they were all safely landed. Instead of going 
 into the thick forest, they agreed to take the path 
 by the margin of the lake, for there they had a 
 better chance of getting nuts and fruit ; but though 
 it was the merry month of June, and there were 
 plenty of pretty flowers in bloom, the berries were 
 hardly ripe, and our little vagrants faied but badly. 
 Besides being hungry, they were sadly afraid of the 
 eagles and fish-hawks that kept hovering over the 
 water ; and when they went further into the forest 
 to avoid them, they saw a great white wood-owl, 
 noiselessly flying out from among the close cedar 
 swamps, that seemed just ready to pounce down 
 upon them. The gray sq^uirrels did not like the 
 
 > 
 
A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 55 
 
 look of tlie owl's groat round shining eyes, as they 
 peered at them, under tlie tufts of silky white 
 leathers, which almost hid his hooked hill, and their 
 hearts sunk within them when they heard his holh vv 
 cry, ''Ho, ho, ho, ho!" '' Wauyh, ho!" dismally 
 sounding in their ears. 
 
 It was well that A\'lvet-paw was as swift afoot as 
 slie was soft, for one of these great owls had veiy 
 nearly caught her, while she was eating a lilbert that 
 she had found in a cleft branch, where a nuthatch 
 had fixed it, while she pecked a hole in the shell. 
 Some bird of prey had scared away the poor nut- 
 hatch, and Velvet-paw no doubt thought she was in 
 luck when she found the prize ; but it would have 
 been a dear nut to her, if Nimble, who was a sharp- 
 sighted fellow, had not seen the owl, and cried, " Chit, 
 chit, chit, chit !" to warn her of her danger. " Chit, 
 chit, chit, chit ! " cried Velvet-paw, and away she 
 flew to the very top of a tall pine-tree, springing 
 from one tree-top to another, till she was soon out 
 of the old owl's reach. 
 
 "What shall we do for supper to-night?'* said 
 Silver-nose, looking very pitifully at Nimble-foot, 
 whom they looked upon as the head of the family. 
 
 " We shall not want for a good supper and break- 
 fast too, or I am very much mistaken. Bo you see 
 that red squirrel yonder, climbing the hemlock-tree ? 
 Well, my dears, he has a fine store of good things in 
 that beech-tree. I watched him run down with a 
 nut in his teeth. Let us wait patiently, and we 
 
56 
 
 THIEVES ARE ALWAYS COWARDS. 
 
 shall see him come again for anotlier ; and as soon 
 as he has done his meal, we will go and take ours." 
 
 The red squirrel ran to and fro several times, each 
 time carrying off a nut to his nest in the hemlock ; 
 after a while, he came no more. As soon as he was 
 out of sight. Nimble led the way and found the 
 hoard. The beech was quite hollow in the heart ; 
 and they went down through a hole in the branch, 
 and found a store of hazel-nuts, with acorns, hickory- 
 nuts, butter-nuts, and beech-mast, all packed quite 
 close and dry. They soon made a great hole in the 
 red squirrel's store of provisions, and were just 
 choosing some nuts to carry off with them, when 
 they were disturbed by a scratching against the 
 bark of the tree. Nimble, who was always the first 
 to take care of himself, gave the alarm, and he and 
 Velvet-paw, being nearest to the hole, got off safely ; 
 but poor Silvy had the ill luck to sneeze, and before 
 she had time to hide herself, the angry red squirrel 
 sprang upon her, and gave her such a terrible cuffing 
 and scratching, that Silvy cried out for mercy. As 
 to Nimble-foot and Velvet-paw, they paid no heed 
 to her cries for help ; they ran away, and left her to 
 bear the blame of all their misdeeds as well as her 
 own. Thieves are always cowards, and are sure to 
 forsake one another when danger is nigh. 
 
 The angry red squirrel pushed poor Silvy out of 
 her granary, and she was glad to crawl away and 
 hide herself in a hole at the root of a neighbouring 
 tree, where she lay in great pain and terror, licking 
 
I, 
 
 THE TREACHEROUS RACOON-. 6/ 
 
 her wounds and crying to think how cruel it was of 
 her brother and sister to leave her to the mercy of 
 the red squirrel. It was surely very cowardly of 
 Nimble-foot and Velvet-paw to forsake her in such a 
 time of need ; nor was this the only danger that 
 befell poor Silvy. One morning, when she put her 
 nose out of tlie hole to look about her before ventur- 
 ing out, she sa;v seated on a branch, close beside the 
 tree she was under, a racoon, staring full at her with 
 his sharp cunning black eyes. She was very much 
 afraid of him, for she thought he looked very hungry; 
 but as she knew that racoons are very fond of nuts 
 and fruit, she said to herself, " Perhaps if I show 
 him where the red squirrel's granary in the beech - 
 tree is, he will not kill me." Then she said very 
 softly to him, " Good Mister Coon, if you want a 
 very nice breakfast, and will promise to do me no 
 hurt, I will tell you where to find plenty of nuts." 
 
 The coon eyed her with a sly grin, and said, " If 
 I can get anything more to my taste than a pretty 
 gray squirrel, I will take it, my dear, and not lay a 
 paw upon your soft back." 
 
 " Ah, but you must promise not to touch me, 
 if I come out and show you where to find the nuts," 
 said Silvy. 
 
 " Upon the word and honour of a coon ! " replied 
 the racoon, laying one black paw upon his breast ; 
 " but if you do not come out of your hole, I shall 
 soon come and dig you out, so you had best be 
 quick ; and if you trust me, you shall come to no hurt." 
 
68 
 
 THE INDIAN TENT. 
 
 IMien Silvy thought it wisest to seem to trust the 
 racoon's word, and she came out of her hole, and 
 went a few paces to point out the tree where her 
 enemy the red Sjuirrel's store of nuts was; but as 
 soon as she saw Mister Coon disappear in the hollow 
 of the tree, slie bade him good-bye, and whisked up 
 a tall tree, where she knew the racoon could not 
 reach her ; and having now quite recovered her 
 strength, she was able to leap from branch to branch, 
 and even from one tree to another, whenever they 
 grew close and the boughs touched, as they often do 
 in the grand old woods in Canada ; and so she was 
 soon far, far away from the artful coon, who waited 
 a long time, hoping to carry off poor Silvy for his 
 dinner. 
 
 Silvy contrived to pick up a living by digging 
 for roots and eating such fruits as she could find ; 
 but one day she came to a grassy cleared spot, where 
 she saw a strange-looking tent, made with poles 
 stuck into the ground and meeting at the top, from 
 which came a bluish cloud that spread among the 
 trees ; and as Silvy was very curious, she came 
 nearer, and at last, hearing no sound, ran up one of 
 the poles and peeped in, to see what was within side, 
 thinking it might be one of the fine stores of grain 
 
 Is, as her cousin 
 
 people 
 
 squi 
 
 IJhickie had made her believe. The poles were 
 covered with sheets of birch-bark and skins of deer 
 and wolves, and there was a fire of sticks burning in 
 the middle, round which some large creatures wore 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 #« 
 
C.VUOIIT IN A TRAP. 
 
 59 
 
 #» 
 
 J 
 
 sitting on a bear's skin, eating something tliat smelt 
 very nice. They had long black hair and black eyes 
 and very white teeth. Silvy felt alarmed at first ; 
 but thinking they must be the people who were kind 
 to squirrels, she ventured to slip through a slit in 
 the bark, and ran down into the wigwam, hoping to 
 get something to eat ; but in a minute the Indians 
 jumped up, and before she had time to make her 
 escape, she was seized by a young squaw, and popped 
 into a birch box, and the lid shut down upon her ; 
 so poor Silvy was caught in a trap, and all for 
 believing the artful black squirrel's tales. 
 
 Silver-nose remembered her mother's warning 
 now when it was too late ; she tried to get out of 
 her prison, but in vain ; the sides of the box were 
 too strong, and there was not so much as a single 
 crack for a peep-hole. After she had been shut up 
 some time, the lid was raised a little, and a dark 
 hand put in some bright, shining hard grains for her 
 to eat. This was Indian corn, and it was excellent 
 food ; but Silvy was a long, long time before she 
 would eat any of this sweet corn, she was so vexed 
 at being caught and shut up in prison ; besides, she 
 was very much afraid that the Indians were going to 
 eat her. After some days, she began to get used to 
 her captive state ; the little squaw used to feed her, 
 and one day took her out of the box and put her 
 into a nice light cage, where there was soft green 
 moss to lie on, a little bark dish with clear water, 
 and abundance of food. The cage was hung up on the 
 
no 
 
 SICK AND SULKY. 
 
 bough of a tree near the wigwam, to swing to and 
 fro as the wind waved the tree. Here Silvy coukl 
 see the birds flying to and fro, and listen to their 
 cheerful songs. The Indian women and children 
 had always a kind look or a word to say to her ; and 
 
 
 
 THE PET SQUIRREL. 
 
 her little mistress was so kind to her, that Silvy 
 could not help loving her. She was very grateful 
 for her care ; for when she was sick and sulky, the 
 little squaw gave her bits of maple-sugar and parched 
 rice out of her hand. At last Silvy giew tame, and 
 
A BREAK IN THE STORY. 
 
 61 
 
 would suffer herself to be taken out of her house to 
 sit on her mistress's shoulder or in her lap ; and 
 though she sometimes ran away and hid herself, out 
 of fun, she would not have gone fur from tlic tent of 
 the good Indians on any account. Sometimes she 
 saw the red squirrels running about in the forest, but 
 they never came very near her; but she used to watch 
 all day long for her brother Nimble-foot, or sister 
 Velvet-paw ; but they were now far away from her, 
 and no doubt thought that she had been killed by 
 the red squirrel, or eaten up by a fox or, racoon. 
 
 " Nurse, I am so glad pretty Silvy was not killed, 
 and that the good Indians took care of her." 
 
 " It is time now, my dear, for you to put down 
 your book," said Mrs. Frazer, " and to-morrow we 
 will read some more." 
 
 " Yes, if you please, Mrs. Frazer," said Ludy 
 Mary. 
 
 JPart lil. 
 
 now THE SQUIRRELS GOT TO THE MILL AT THE RAPIDS- 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO VELVET-PAW. 
 
 -AND 
 
 NiMBLE-FOOT and Velvet-paw were so frightened by 
 the sight of the red squirrel, that they ran down the 
 tree without once looking back to see what had 
 become of poor Silver-nose ; indeed, the cowards, 
 
r 
 
 62 
 
 TFIK MILL AT TIIK RAPIDS. 
 
 ; 
 
 
 instead of waiting for their poor sister, fled tlirougli 
 the forest as it' an army of red squirrels were behind 
 them. At Last they reached the banks of the lake, 
 and jumping into the water, swam down tlie current 
 till they came to a place called the " Narrow," where 
 the wide lake poured its waters through a deep rocky 
 channel, not more than a hundred yards wide ; here 
 the waters became so rough and rapid, that our little 
 swimmers thought it wisest to go on shore. They 
 scrambled up the steep rocky bank, and found them- 
 selves on a wide open space, quite free from trees, 
 which they knew must be one of the great clearings 
 the traveller squirrel had spoken of. There was a 
 very high building on the water's edge that they 
 thought must be the mill that the chitmunks had 
 told them they would come to ; and they were in 
 good spirits, as they now expected to find plenty of 
 good things laid up for them to eat, so they went in 
 by the door of the mill. 
 
 " Dear me, what a dust there is ! " said Nimble, 
 lookirg about him ; " I think it must be snowing." 
 
 " Snow does not fall in hot weather," said Velvet; 
 " besides, this white powder is very sweet and 
 nice ; " and she began to lick some of the flour that 
 lay in the cracks of the floor. 
 
 " I have found some nice seeds here," said Nimble, 
 running to the top of a sack that stood with the 
 mouth untied ; " these are better than pine-kernels, 
 and not so hard. We must have come to one of the 
 great grain-stores that our cousin told us of. Well, 
 
 Wi 
 
WONDERS UPON WONDERS. 
 
 63 
 
 I am sure the people are very kind to liavo laiil up 
 so many good things for us squirrels." 
 
 When they had eaten as much as they liked, they 
 began to run about to see wiiat was in the mill. 
 Presently, a man came in, and they saw him take 
 one of the sacks of wheat, and pour it into a largo 
 upright box, and in a few minutes there was a great 
 noise — a sort of buzzing, whirring, rumbling, dash- 
 ing, and splashing — and away ran Velvet-paw in a 
 terrible fright, and scrambled up some beams and 
 rafters to the top of the wall, where slie sat watching 
 what was going on, trembling all over ; but finding 
 that no harm happened to her, took courage, and 
 after a time ceased to be afraid. She saw Nimble 
 perched on a cross-beam looking down very intently 
 at something ; .so .she came out of her corner and ran 
 to him, and asked what he was looking at. 
 
 " There is a great black thing here," said he, " I 
 cannot tell what to make of him at all ; it turns 
 round, and round, and round, and dashes the water 
 about, making a fine splash." (This was the water- 
 wheel.) 
 
 " It looks very ugly indeed," said Velvet-paw, 
 " and makes my head giddy to look at it ; let us go 
 away. I want to find out what these two big stones 
 are doing," said she ; " they keep rubbing against 
 one another, and making a great noise." 
 
 " There is nothing so wonderful in two big stones, 
 my dear," said Nimble ; " I have seen plenty bigger 
 than these in Stony Lake. ' 
 
64 
 
 THE MILLER S DOO. 
 
 %. 
 
 '' i^iit they did not move about as these do ; and 
 only look hero at the white stuff that is running 
 down all the time into this great box. Well, we 
 shall not want for food for the rest of our lives ; I 
 wish poor Silvy were with us to share in our good 
 luck." 
 
 They saAv a great many other strange things in 
 the mill, and they thought that the miller was a 
 very funny-looking creature ; but as they fancied 
 that he was grinding the wheat into flour for them, 
 they were not much afraid of him ; they were more 
 troubled at the sight of a black dog, which spied 
 them out as they sat on the beams of the mill, and 
 ran about in a great rage, barking at them in a 
 frightful way, and never left off till the miller went 
 out of the mill, when he went away with his master, 
 and did not return till the next day ; but whenever 
 he saw the gray squirrels, this little dog, whose name 
 was " Pinch," was sure to set up his ears and tail, 
 and snap and bark, showing all his sharp white teeth 
 in a very savage manner. 
 
 Not far from the mill was another building : this 
 was the house the miller lived in ; and close by the 
 house was a barn, a stable, a cow-shed, and a sheep- 
 pen, and there was a garden full of fruit and flowers, 
 and an orchard of apple-trees close by. 
 
 One day Velvet-paw ran up one of the apple- 
 trees and began to eat an apple ; it looked very good, 
 for it had a bright red cheek, but it was hard and 
 sour, not being ripe. " I do not like these big, sour 
 
 
 { 
 
SWKKT AUTUMN-TIMK 
 
 G.1 
 
 lieiiii's," saiil she, making' wry facrs as slio trie<l to 
 got the l»atl tasto out of her moiitli hy wiiung lier 
 tongue oil her forc-i>a\v. Niinhle hail founil some 
 rl[)0 currants ; so lie only huigljod at poor Velvet for 
 the trouhle she was in. 
 
 These little gray S(|uirrels now led a merry life ; 
 they found plenty to eat and drink, and would not 
 have had a care in the world, if it had not been for 
 the noisy little dog Pineh, who )et them have no 
 (piiet, barking and baying at them whenever he saw 
 them ; and also for the watchful eyes of a great tom- 
 cat, who was always prowling about the mill, or 
 creeping round the orchard and outhouses ; so that 
 with all their good food they were not quite free 
 from causes of fear, and no doubt sometimes wished 
 themselves safe back on the little rocky island, in 
 their nest in the old oak-tree. 
 
 Time passed away — the wheat and the oats were 
 now ripe and fit for the scythe, for in Canada the 
 settlers mow wheat with an instrument called a 
 " cradle scythe." The beautiful Indian corn was in 
 bloom, and its long pale green silken threads were 
 waving in the summer breeze. The blue jays were 
 busy in the fields of wheat ; so were the red- winged 
 blackbirds, and the sparrows, and many other birds, 
 great and small ; field-mice in dozens were cutting 
 the straw with their sharp teeth, and carrying off the 
 grain to their nests ; and as to the squirrels and chit- 
 munks, there were scores of them — black, red, and 
 gray — filling their cheeks with the grain, and laying 
 
(jr; 
 
 mki':tin(j with iiklations. 
 
 it out oil till! rail fences and on tlio to[) of tlio stmnps 
 to (liy, liefoio they carried it away to tlieir storc- 
 lioiises. Ami many a Itattlo the red and the bhick 
 s«|uirrels had, and Hoinetimes tlie gray joined wiUi 
 tlie red, to heat the hhick ones off the /j^round. 
 
 Nlnihlo-foot and liis sister kept out of these 
 (|uurrels as iiiucli as they could ; but oiico they got 
 a severe beating from the red squirrels (or not help- 
 ing them to drive olf the saucy black ones, which 
 would carry away the little heaps of wheat, as soon 
 as they were dry. 
 
 " We do not mean to trouble ourselves witli 
 laying up winter stores," said Nimble one day to his 
 red cousins ; " don't you see Peter, the miller's man, 
 has got a great waggon and horses, and is carting 
 wheat into the barn for us?" 
 
 The red S(|uirrol opened his round eyes very wide 
 at this speech. "■ Why, Cousin Nimble," he said, 
 '• you are not so Ibolish as to think the miller is 
 harvesting that grain for your use. No, no, my 
 friend ; if you want any, you must work as wo do, 
 or run the chance of starving in the winter." 
 
 Then Nimble told him Avhat their cousin Blackie 
 had said. '' You were wise fellows to believe such 
 nonsense ! " said the red squirrel. " These mills 
 and barns are all stored for the use of the miller and 
 his family ; and what is more, my friend, I can tell 
 \at men are no great friends to 
 
 you 
 
 poor 
 
 squirrels, and will kill us when they get the chance, 
 and begrudge us the grain we lielp ourselves to." 
 
 
 i 
 
 3 
 
MAKK HAY IN HIJNNY WKATHKH. 
 
 (i7 
 
 IS 
 
 my 
 
 do, 
 
 ickio 
 ucli 
 liUs 
 and 
 tell 
 poor 
 ance, 
 
 " Well, tlmt is very Ktiiigy," said Vulvct-puw ; " [ 
 am sure tlicro is enough tor men and squinvls too. 
 However, 1 suppose all must live, so we will let 
 them luive what we leave ; I shall help uiysell' alter 
 they have stored it up in yonder barn." 
 
 *' You had better do as wo do, and make hay 
 while the sun shines," said the red sipiirrel. 
 
 " I would rather play in the sunshine, and eat 
 what I want here," said idle Velvet-paw, setting up 
 her fine tail like a leather over her baek, as she ate 
 an ear of corn. 
 
 " Vou are a foolish, idle thing, and will conic to 
 no good," said the red s(purrel. " I wonder where 
 you were brought up ? " 
 
 I am very sorry to relate that Velvet-paw did not 
 come to a good end, for she did not take the advice 
 ol" her red cousin, to lay up provisions during the 
 liarvest ; but instead of that, she ate all day long, and 
 grew fat and lazy ; and after the fields were all 
 cleared, she went to the mill one day, when the mill 
 was grinding, and seeing a quantity of wheat in the 
 feeder of the mill, she ran up a beam and jumj)ed 
 down, thinking to make a good dinner from the 
 grain she saw ; but it kept sliding down and sliding 
 down so fast, that she could not get one grain, so at 
 last she began to be frightened, and tried to get up 
 again, but, alas! this was not possible. She cried 
 out to Nimble to help her ; and while he ran to look 
 for a stick for her to raise herself up by, the mill- 
 wheel kept on turning, and the great stones went 
 
 i 
 
f 
 
 ') 
 
 68 
 
 NTMBLE-FOOTS HOUSR. 
 
 round faster and faster, till poor Vol vet- paw was 
 crushed to death between them. Nimble was now 
 left all alone, and sad enough he was, you may 
 suppose. 
 
 " Ah," said he, " idleness is the ruin of gray 
 squirrels, as well as men, so I will go away from 
 this place, and try and earn an honest living in the 
 forest. I wish I had not believed all the fine talcs 
 my cousin the black squirrel told me." 
 
 Then Nimble went away from the clearing, and 
 once more resolved to seek his fortune in the woods. 
 He knew there were plenty of butter-nuts, acorns, 
 hickory-nuts, and beech-nuts, to be found, besides 
 many sorts of berries ; and he very diligently set to 
 work to lay up stores against the coming winter. 
 
 As it was now getting cold at night. Nimble-foot 
 thoucrht it would be wise to make himself a warm 
 house ; so he found out a tall hemlock-pine that was 
 very thick and bushy at the top : there was a forked 
 branch in the tree, with a hollow just fit for his nest. 
 He carried twigs of birfh and beech, and over these 
 he laid dry green moss, which he collected on the 
 north side of the cedar trees, and some long gray 
 moss that he found on tho swamp maples, and then 
 he stripped the silky threads from the milk-weeds, 
 and the bark of the cedar and birch-trees. These he 
 gnawed fne, and soon made a soft bed ; he wove 
 and twisted the sticks, and roots, and mosses to- 
 gether, till the walls of his house were quite thick, 
 and he made a sort of thatch over the top with dry 
 
TIIK LONELY SQUIRilEL 
 
 GO 
 
 loaves and long moss, with a round liole to creoi^ in 
 and out of. 
 
 Making this warm liouse took liini many days' 
 labour ; but many strokes will fell great oaks, so at 
 last Nimble-foot's work came to an end, and he had 
 the comfort of a charming house to shelter him from 
 the cold season. He laid up a good store of nuts, 
 acorns, and roots : some he put in a hollow branch 
 of the hemlock-tree close to his nest ; some he hid 
 in a stump, and another store he laid under the roots 
 of a mossy cedar. When all this was done, he began 
 to feel very lonely, and often wished, no doubt, that 
 he had had his sisters Silvy and Velvet-paw with 
 him, to share his nice warm house ; but of Silvy he 
 knew nothing, and poor Velvet-paw was dead. 
 
 One fine moonlight night, as Nimble was frisking 
 about on the bough of a birch -tree, not very far from 
 his house in the hemlock, he saw a canoe land on 
 the shore of the lake, and some Indians with an axe 
 cut down some bushes, and having cleared a small 
 piece of ground, begin to sharpen the ends of some 
 long poles. These they stuck into the ground close 
 together in a circle ; and having stripped some 
 sheets of birch-bark from the birch trees close by, 
 they thatched the sides of the hut, and made a fire 
 of sticks inside. They had a dead deer in the canoe, 
 and there were several hares and black squirrels, the 
 sight of -which rather alarmed Nimble ; for he 
 thought if they killed one sort of squirrel, they 
 might another, and he was very much scared at one 
 
70 
 
 BnOTIIER AND SISTER. 
 
 of the Indians firing off a gun close by him. Tlie 
 noise made him fall down to the ground, and it was 
 a good thing that it was dark among the leaves and 
 grass where the trunk of tlie tree threw its long 
 shadow, so that the Indian did not see him, or per- 
 haps he might have loaded the gun again, and shot 
 our little friend, and made soup of him for his 
 supper. 
 
 Nimble ran swiftly up a pine-tree, and was soon 
 out of danger. While he was watching some of the 
 Indian children at play, he saw a girl come out of 
 the hut with a gray squirrel in her arms ; it did not 
 seem at all afraid of her, but nestled to her shoulder, 
 and even ate out of her hand ; and what was Nimble's 
 surprise to see that this tame gray squirrel was none 
 other than his own pretty sister Silver-nose, whom 
 he had left in the hollow tree when they both ran 
 away from the red squirrel. 
 
 You may suppose the sight of his lost companion 
 was a joyful one ; hq waited for a long, long time, 
 till the fir'^ went out, and all the Indians were fast 
 asleep, and little Silvy came out to play in the 
 moonlight, and frisk about on the dewy grass as she 
 used to do. Then Nimble when he saw her, ran 
 down the tree, and came to her and rubbed his nose 
 against her, and licked her soft fur, and told her 
 who he was, and how sorry he was for having left 
 her in so cowardly a manner, to be beaten by the 
 red squirrel. 
 
 The good little Silvy told Nimble not to fret 
 
 
 *m 
 
A FfAPPY MKFTINO. 
 
 noso 
 her 
 loft 
 the 
 
 fret 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 im 
 
 NIMBLE HECOVERTNG IflS SISTEIt. 
 
 ahout what was past, aiul then slie asked him for ],or 
 lister Velvet-paw. Nimble had a Ion- sorrowful 
 tale to tell about the death of poor Velvet ; and 
 
 4 
 
72 
 
 A LIFE OF FIlFKDOAr. 
 
 Silvy was much grieved. Then in her turn she tohl 
 Nimble all her adventures, and how she had been 
 caught by the Indian girl, and kept, and fed, and 
 tamed, and had passed her time very happily, if it 
 had not been for thinking about her dear lost com- 
 panions. " But now," she said, " my dear brother, 
 we will never part again; you shall be quite welcome 
 to share my cage, and my nice stores of Indian 
 corn, rice, and nuts, which my kind mistress gives 
 me. 
 
 " I would not be shut up in a cage, not even for 
 one day," said Nimble, " for all the nice fruit and 
 grain in Canada. I am a free squirrel, and love my 
 liberty. I would not exchange a life of freedom in 
 these fine old woods, for all the dainties in the world. 
 So, Silvy, if you prefer a life of idleness and ease to 
 living with mc in the forest, I must say good-bye to 
 
 you." 
 
 " But there is nothing to hurt us, my dear Nim- 
 ble — no racoons, nor foxes, nor hawks, nor owls, nor 
 weasels ; if I see any hungry-looking birds or beasts, 
 I have a safe place to run to, and never need be 
 hungry ! " 
 
 *' I would not lead a lifelike that, for the world," 
 said Nimble. " I should die of dulness ; if there is 
 danger in a life of freedom, there is pleasure too, 
 which you cannot enjoy, shut up in a wooden cage, 
 and fed at the will of a master or mistress. — Well, T 
 shall be shot if the Indians awake and see me ; so 
 I shall be off." 
 
 ft- 
 
 I 
 
SlLVy AND NIMKLE. 
 
 ::\ 
 
 i 
 
 Silvy looked very sorrowful ; she did not like to 
 part from her newly-found brother, but she was un- 
 willing to forego all the comforts and luxuries her 
 life of captivity afforded her. 
 
 " You •will not tell the Indians where I live, I 
 hope, Silvy, for they would think it a fine thing to 
 hunt nic with their dogs, or shoot me down with 
 their bows and arrows." 
 
 At these words Silvy was overcome with gri(;f, so 
 jumping off from the logon which she was standing, 
 she said, " Nimble, I will go with you and share all 
 your perils, and we will never part again." She 
 then ran into the wigwam ; and going softly to the 
 little squaw, who was asleep, licked her hands and 
 face, as if she would say, " Good-bye, my good kind 
 friend ; T shall not forgot all your love for me, 
 though I am going away from you for ever." 
 
 Silvy then followed Nimble into the forest, and 
 they soon reached his nice comfortable nest in the 
 tail hendock-trce. 
 
 " Nurso, I am glad Silvy went away with Nimble ; 
 are not you ? Poor Nimble must have been so lonely 
 without her ; and then you know it must have seemed 
 so hard to him if Silvy had ])rcrerred staying with 
 the Indians to living with him." 
 
 " Tho.:f \vho have been used to a life of case do 
 not willingly give it up, my dear lady. Thus you 
 s(>e l()\e for her old companion was stronger even 
 
r 
 
 4 
 
 PRKPARINO FOR WINTKIJ. 
 
 than love of solf. But I think you must have tired 
 yourself witli reading so long to me." 
 
 " Indeed, nurse, I must read a little more, for I 
 want you to hear how Silvy and Nimble amused 
 themselves in the hendock-tree." 
 
 Then Lady Mary continued reading as follows : — 
 
 
 Silvy was greatly pleased with her now honn?, 
 which was as soft and as warm as clean dry moss, 
 hay, and fibres of roots could make it. The sf[uirrels 
 built a sort of pent or outer roof of twigs, dry leaves, 
 and roots of withered grass, which was pitched so 
 high that it threw off the rain and kept the inner 
 house very dry. They worked at this very dili- 
 gently, and also laid up a store of nuts and berries. 
 They knew that they must not only provide plenty 
 of food for the winter, but also for the spring months, 
 when they could get little to eat beside the buds and 
 bark of some sort of trees, and the chance seeds that 
 might still remain in the pine-cones. 
 
 Thus the autumn months passed away very quickly 
 and cheerfully with the squirrels while preparing for 
 the coming winter. Half the cold season was spent, 
 too, in sleep ; but on mild, sunny days the little 
 squirrels, roused by the bright light of the sunbeams 
 on the white and glittering snow, would shake them- 
 selves, rub their black eyes, and after licking them- 
 selves clean from dust, would whisk out of their 
 house, and indulge in merry gambols up and down 
 the trunks of the trees, skipping from bough»to 
 
 
SNOW ON TIFR « ROUND. 
 
 ra 
 
 
 bough, ami frolicking ov<n- the liard, crisp snow, 
 which scarcely sliovved on its surface tlic delicate 
 ])rint of their tiny feet and the sweep of their fine 
 light feathery tails. Sometimes they met with some 
 little shrewmice running on the snow. These very 
 tiny things are so small, they hardly look bigger 
 than a large black beetle. They lived on the seeds 
 of the tall weeds, which they might be seen climb- 
 ing and clinging to, yet were haidly heavy enough 
 to weigh down the heads of the dry stalks. It is 
 pretty to see the footprints of these small shrewmice 
 on the surface of the fresh fallen snow in the deep 
 forest glades. They are not dormant during the 
 winter, like many of the mouse tribe, for they are 
 up and abroad at all seasons ; for however stormy 
 and severe the weather may be, they do not seem to 
 heed its inclemency. Surely, children, there is One 
 who cares for the small tender things of earth, and 
 shelters them from the rude blasts. 
 
 Nimble -foot and Silver -nose often saw their 
 cousins, the black s.|uirrels, playing in the sunshine, 
 chasing each other merrily up and down the trees 
 or over the brush-heaps ; their jetty coats and long 
 feathery tailc forming a striking contrast with the 
 whiteness of the snow above which they were sport- 
 ing. Sometimes they saw a few red squirrels too, 
 but there was generally war between them and the 
 black ones. 
 
 In these lonely forests everything seems still and 
 silent during the long wintry season, as if death had 
 
ifl 
 
 TIIK RETURN OF SPRING. 
 
 N 
 
 spread a \vliite pall over the earth, and liushcd evcMy 
 livnig thing into silence. Few sounds are heard 
 through the Avintor days to break the deathlike silence 
 that reigns around, excepting the sudden rending 
 and cracking of the trees in the frosty air, the fall 
 of a decayed branch, the tapping of a solitary wood- 
 pecker — two or three small species of which still 
 remain after all the summer-birds arc flown — and 
 the gentle, weak chirp of the little tree-creeper, as 
 it runs up and down the hemlocks and pines, search- 
 ing the crevices of the bark for insects. Yet in all 
 this seeming death lies hidden the life of myriads 
 of insects, the huge beast of the forest asleep in 
 his lair, with many of the smaller quadrupeds and 
 forest-birds, that, hushed in lonely places, shall 
 awake to life and activity as soon as the sun-beams 
 once more dissolve the snow, unbind the frozen 
 streams, and loosen the bands which held them in 
 repose. 
 
 At last the spring, the glad, joyous spring, returned. 
 The leaf-buds, wrapped within their gummy and 
 downy cases, began to unfold ; the dark green pines, 
 spruce, and balsams began to shoot out fresh spiny 
 leaves, like tassels, from the ends of every bough, 
 giving out the most refreshing fragrance ; the crim- 
 son buds of the young hazels and the scarlet blossoms 
 of the soft maple enlivened the edges of the streams ; 
 the bright coral bark of the dogwood seemed as if 
 freshly varnished, so brightly it glowed in the morn- 
 ing sunshine ; the scream of the blue jny, the song 
 
SUMMRR IN THK FOUKST. 
 
 of the I'oLiii aiul woodtlimsli, tlic merry note of tin; 
 cliiccadcc aiul plaintive ery of the plieobe, with loud 
 hammering strokes of the great reil-hcaded wood- 
 pceker, mingled with the rush of the unbound 
 forest streams, gurgling and murmuring as their 
 water flowed over their stones, and the sighing of 
 the breeze playing in the tree-tops, made pleasant 
 and ceaseless music. And then, as time passed on, 
 the trees unfolded all their bright green leaves — the 
 buds and forest flowers opened ; and many a bright 
 bell our little squirrels looked down upon, from 
 their leafy home, that the eye of man had never 
 seen. 
 
 It was pleasant for our little squirrels, just after 
 sunset, in the still summer evenings, when the small 
 silver stars came stealing out one by one in the blue 
 sky, to play among the cool dewy leaves of the grand 
 old oaks and maples ; to watch the fitful flash of the 
 fireflies, as they glanced here and there, flitting 
 through the deep gloom of the forest boughs, now 
 lost to sight, as they closed their wings, now Hashing 
 out like tiny tapers, borne aloft by unseen hands in 
 the darkness. "Where that little creek runs singing 
 over its mossy bed, and the cedar-boughs bend down 
 so thick and close that only a gleam of the bright 
 water can be seen, even in the sunlight, there the 
 fireflies crow^l, and the damp foliage is all alive with 
 their dazzling light. 
 
 In this sweet, still hour, just at the dewfall, the 
 iTish of whirring wings may be heard from the islands, 
 
I ' I 
 
 78 
 
 THE BULL-FUOO. 
 
 hi 
 
 or ill the forest, horclcring on the water's cdgo ; ami 
 out of hollow logs and hoary trunks of trees come 
 forth the si)ecklcd night-hawks, cutting the air with 
 their thin, sharp, wide wings and open beak, ready 
 to intrap the unwary moth or mus([uito that float so 
 joyously upon the evening air. One after another, 
 sweeping in wider circles, come forth these bii'ds of 
 prey, till the whole air seems alive with them ; dart- 
 ing hither and thither, and uttering wild, shrill 
 screams, as they rise higher and higher in the upper 
 air, till some are almost lost to sight. Sometimes 
 one of them will descend with a sudden swoop to the 
 lower regions of the air, just above the highest tree- 
 tops, with a hollow, booming sound, as if some one 
 were blowing in an empty vessel. 
 
 At this hour, too, the bats would quit their homes 
 in hollow trees and old rocky banks, and flit noise- 
 lessly abroad over the surface of the quiet, star-lit 
 lake : and now also would begin the shrill, trilling 
 note of the green-frog, and the deep, hoarse bass of 
 the bull- frog, which ceases only at intervals, through 
 the long, warm summer night. You might fancy a 
 droll sort of dialogue was being carried on among 
 them. At first a great fellow, the patriarch of the 
 swamp, will put up his head, which looks very much 
 like a small pair of bellows, with yellow leather 
 sides, and say, in a harsh, guttural tone, " Go to bed, 
 go to bed, go to bed." After a moment's pause, 
 two or three will rise and reply, " No, I won't ; no, 
 I won't ; no, I won't." Then the old fellow, with 
 
GOINO ON A .TOURNr.Y. 
 
 70 
 
 u p^iowl, ropllen, " Got out, i,'et out, got out." And 
 foithwitli, with u rush, and a splufsh, and a dasli, 
 llioy niiso a olioruH ol" wliinin]L]^, grating, growling, 
 grunting, whistling sounds, whioh mako you stop up 
 vour oars. Whou all this hubbub has lastod sonio 
 minutos, there is a po[) and a splash, aud down go 
 all tlu! heads under the weeds and uiud ; and after 
 another jvause, up eonies the aged father of the frogs, 
 and begins again with the old story, " Go to bed, 
 go to bed, go to bed," and so ou. During the heat 
 of the day the bull-frogs are silent ; but as the day 
 declines and the air becomes cooler, they recomnienco 
 their noisy cliorus. 
 
 T suppose those sounds, though not very i)leasant 
 to the ears of men, may not be so disagreeable to 
 those of wild animals. I daresay neither Nimble 
 nor Silvy were in the least annoyed by the hoarse 
 note of the bull-frog, but gambolled as merrily 
 among the boughs and fresh dewy leaves as if they 
 were listening to sweet music or the songs of the 
 birds. 
 
 The summer passed away very happily ; but 
 towards the close of the warm season the squirrels, 
 Nimble and Silvy, resolved to make a journey to 
 the rocky island on Stony Lake, to see the old 
 srpiirrcls, their father and mother. So they started 
 at sunrise one fine pleasant day, and travelled along ; 
 till one cool evening, just as the moon was beginning 
 to rise above the pine-trees, they arrived at the little 
 rocky islet where they first saw the light. IJut 
 
80 
 
 A llOUKIh 1)1.1* OWL. 
 
 when tlioy oiigcrly ran up tliu trunk ol' the old oak 
 tree, expnctin^tj to liiivo sc(Mi tlicir old fatlior and 
 motlior, tlioy wcro surprised and terrified l)y seeing 
 a wood-owl in tlio nest. 
 
 As soon as she es[)icd our little s<[uirrels slio sliook 
 her leathers and set u[) her cars — for she was a loni^^- 
 oared owl — and saiil,— 
 
 " What do you want here? — ho, ho, ho, ho !" 
 
 " Indeed, INIrs. Owl," said Nimble, " we conic 
 hither to see our parents, whom we left here a year 
 ago. Can you tell us where we shall find them?" 
 
 The owl peered out of her ruff of silken feathers, 
 and, after wiping her sharp hill on her breast, said, — 
 
 " Your cousin, the black squirrel, beat your lather 
 and mother out of their nest a long time ago, and 
 took possession of the tree and all that was in it ; 
 and they brought up a large family of little ones, all 
 of which I pounced upon one after another, and ate. 
 Indeed, the oaks hero belong to my family ; so, 
 finding these impudent intruders would not quit tin; 
 premises, I made shoi't work of the matter, and took 
 the law into my own hands." 
 
 " Dili you kill them ?" asked Silvy, in a trembling 
 voice. 
 
 " Of course I did ; and very nice, tender meat they 
 were," replied the horrid old owl, beginning to 
 scramble out of the nest, and eyeing the squirrels at 
 the same time with a wicked look. 
 
 "But you did not eat our parents too?" asked 
 the trembling squirrels. 
 
 i'.> 
 
THK KNl) OF TIIK STORY. 
 
 81 
 
 
 J 
 
 '^1 
 
 " Yes, I did. 'J'licy were very tougli, to bo sure ; 
 l»iit I am not very particular." 
 
 The gray squirrels, though lull of grief and vain 
 regret, were obliged to take eare of themselves. 
 There was, indeed, no time to be lost; so they nuide 
 a hasty retreat. '^J'hey crept under the rcjots of an 
 oUl tree, where they lay till the morning. They 
 were not much concerned for the death of the 
 treacherous black squirrel who liad told so many 
 stories, got possession of their old nest, and caused 
 the death of their parents ; but they said, " We will 
 go home again to our dear old hemlock-tree, and never 
 leave it more." So these dear little squirrels returned 
 to their i'orest home, and may be living there yet. 
 
 " Nurse," said Ludy Mary, " how do you like the 
 story ?" 
 
 Mrs. Frazer said it was a very pretty one. 
 
 " Perhaps my dear little pet is one of Nind)le or 
 Silvy's children. You know, nurse, they might 
 have gone on their travels too, when they were old 
 enough, and then your brother may have chopped 
 down the tree, and found them in the forest." 
 
 " But your squirrel, Lady Mary, is a flying 
 bquirrel, and these were only common gray ones, 
 which belong to a different species. Besides, my 
 dear, this history is but a fable." 
 
 " I suppose, nurse," said the child, looking up in 
 her nurse's face, " squirrels do not I'calhj talk." 
 
 (211) G 
 
82 
 
 WHAT IS A FABLE? 
 
 " No, my dear ; tlioy have not tlic use of speech 
 as we liave. But in all ages people have written 
 little tales called fables, in which they make birds 
 and beasts speak as if they were men and women, it 
 being an easy method of conveying instruction." 
 
 " My book is only a fable, then, nurse ? I wish 
 it had been true : but it is very pretty." 
 
 I 
 
 'Ay-ii 
 
 > 
 
eel I 
 ten 
 rds 
 
 ,it 
 
 /isli 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SliUritllELS — THE CIllTMUNKS — DOCILITY OF A PET ONE — 
 ItOGUEUY OF A YANKEE I'EULAK — KETURN OF THE 
 MUSICAL CHITMUNK TO HIS MASTEK's BOSOM — SAGACITY 
 OF A BLACK SQUIKUEL. 
 
 RS. FRAZER, are you very busy ju^t 
 now ? " asked Lady Mary, coming uj) to 
 the table where hei- nurse was ironing 
 some lace. 
 
 " No, my dear, not very busy, only preparing 
 these lace edgings for your frocks. Do you want 
 me to do anything for you? " 
 
 " I only want to tell you that my governess has 
 promised to paint my dear squirrel's picture, as soon 
 as it is tame, and will let me hold it in my lap, 
 without flying away. I saw a picture of a flying 
 squirrel to-day, but it was very ugly — not at all 
 like mine ; it was long and flat, and its legs looked 
 like sticks, and it was stretched out, just like one of 
 those muskrat skins that you pointed out to me in 
 a fur store. Mamma said it was drawn so, to show 
 it while it was in the act of flying ; but it is not 
 ])rctty — it does not show its beautiful tail, nor its 
 bright eyes, nor soft silky fur. I heard a lady tell 
 
84 
 
 MOKK AJJOUT HQUIKRICLS. 
 
 mamma about a nest full of dear, tiny little iiying 
 S([uirrcls, that her brother once found in a tree in the 
 forest ; he tamed them, and they lived very happily 
 together, and would feed from his liand. They 
 nlept in the cold weather like dormice ; in the day- 
 time they lay very still, but would come out, and 
 gambol and frisk about at night. But somebody 
 left the cage open, and they all ran away except one; 
 and that he found in his bed, Avhcre it had run for 
 shelter, with its little nose nnilcr his pillow. He 
 caught the little fellow, and it lived with him till 
 the spring, when it grew restless, and one day got 
 away, and went off to the woods." 
 
 "These little creatures arc impatient of confine- 
 ment, and will gnaw through the woodwork of the 
 cage to get free, especially in the spring of the year. 
 Doubtless, my dear, they pine for the liberty which 
 they used to enjoy before they were captured by 
 man." 
 
 " Nurse, I will not lol my little pet be unhaj^py. 
 As soon as the warn, uiiys come again, and my 
 governess has taken his picture, I will let him go 
 free. Are there many squirrels in this part of 
 Canada?" 
 
 " Not so many as in Upper Canada, Lady Mjiry. 
 They abound more in some years than in others. 
 I have seen the beech and oak woods swarming 
 with black squirrels. My brothers have brought 
 in two or three dozen in one day. The Indians 
 used to tell us that want of food, or very severe 
 
THE WISDOM OP THE CREATOR. 
 
 83 
 
 of 
 
 
 
 weather setting in in the nortli, cliivo these little 
 animals from their haunts. The Indians, who ob- 
 serve these things more than we do, can generally 
 tell what sort of winter it will he, from the number 
 of wild animals in the fall." 
 
 " What do you mean by the fall, nurse ? " 
 
 " The autumn in Canada, my lady, is called so 
 from the fall of the leaves. I remember one year 
 was remarkable for the great number of black, gray, 
 and flying squirrels ; tlie little striped chitmunk 
 was also plentiful, and so were weasels and foxes. 
 They came into the barns and granaries, and into 
 the houses, and destroyed great quantities of grain ; 
 besides gnawing clothes that were laid out to dry ; 
 this they did to lino their nests with. Next year 
 there were very few to be seen." 
 
 " What became of them, nurse ? " 
 
 " Some, no doubt, fell a prey to their enemies, 
 the cats, foxes, and weasels, which were also very 
 numerous that year ; and the rest, perhaps, went 
 back to their own country again." 
 
 " I should like to sec a great number of these 
 pretty creatures travelling together," said Lady Mary. 
 
 " All wild animals, my dear, are more active by 
 night than by day, and probably make theii- long 
 journeys during that season. The eyes of many 
 animals and birds are so formed, that they see best 
 in the dim twilight, as cats, and owls, and others. 
 Our heavenly Father has fitted all his creatures for 
 the state in which he has placed them.'' 
 
 . l\ 
 
86 
 
 A CLEVER FEAT. 
 
 (( 
 
 Can squirrels swim like otters and beavers, 
 nurse ? If they come to a lake or river, can they 
 cross it?" 
 
 " I think they can, Lady Mary ; for though these 
 creatures are not formed, like the otter, or heaver, or 
 rnuskrat, to get their living in the water, they are 
 able to swim when necessity requires them to do so. 
 I heard a lady say that she was crossing a lake, 
 between one of the islands and the shore, in a canoe, 
 with a baby on her lap. She noticed a movement 
 on the surface of the water. At first she thought 
 it might be a water-snake, but the servant lad who 
 was paddling the canoe said it was a red squirrel, 
 and he tried to strike it with the paddle ; but the 
 little squirrel leaped out of the water to the blade 
 of the paddle, and sprang on the head of the baby, 
 as it lay on her lap ; from whence it jumped to her 
 shoulder, and before she had recovered from her sur- 
 prise, was in the water again, swimming straight for 
 the shore, where it was soon safe in the dark pine 
 woods." 
 
 This feat of the squirrel delighted Lady Mary, 
 who expressed her joy at the bravery of the little 
 creature. Besides, sho said she had heard that gray 
 squirrels, when they wished to go to a distance in 
 search of food, would all meet together, and collect 
 pieces of bark to serve them for boats, and would 
 set up their broad tails like sails, to catch the wind, 
 and in this way cross large sheets of water. 
 
 " I do not think this can be true," observed Mrs. 
 
A LESSON OF FORETIIOUOIIT. 
 
 87 
 
 I'' razor ; " for the squirrel, when swimming, uses 
 his tail as an oar or rmldor to help the motion, the 
 tail lying flat on the surAice of the water; nor do these 
 creatures need a boat, for God, who made them, has 
 given ihcm the power of swimming at their need." 
 
 " Nurse, you said something about a ground 
 squirrel, and called it a chitmunk. If you please, 
 will you tell me something about it, and why it is 
 called by such a curious name ? " 
 
 " I believe it is the Indian name for this sort of 
 squirrel, my dear. The chitmunk is not so large as 
 the black, red, and gray squirrels. It is marked along 
 the back with black and white stripes ; the rest of 
 its fur is a yellowish tawny colour. It is a very 
 playful, lively, cleanly animal, somewhat resembling 
 the dormouse in its habits. It burrows under- 
 ground. Its nest is made with great care, with 
 many galleries which open at the surface, so that 
 when attacked by an enemy, it can run from one to 
 another for security. For the squirrel has many 
 enemies ; all the weasel tribe, cats, and even dogs 
 attack them. Cats kill great numbers. The farmer 
 shows them as little mercy as he does rats and mice, 
 as they are very destructive, and carry off vast quan- 
 tities of grain, which they store in hollow trees for 
 use. Not contenting themselves with one granary, 
 they have several in case one should fail, or perhaps 
 become injured by accidental causes. 'J'hus do these 
 simple little creatures teach us a lesson of provi- 
 dential care for future events." 
 
I 
 
 88 
 
 UNCLES CHITMUNK. 
 
 " How wise of these little chitmunks to think of 
 such precautions ! " said Lady Mary. 
 
 " Nay, ray dear child, it is God's wisdom, not 
 theirs. These creatures work according to his will ; 
 and so they always do what is fittest and best for 
 their own comfort and safety. Man is the only one 
 of God's creatures who disobeys him." 
 
 These words made Lady Mary look grave, till her 
 nurse began to talk to her again about the chit- 
 munk. 
 
 " It is very easily tamed, and becomes very fond 
 of its master. It will obey his voice, come at a call 
 or a whistle, sit up and beg, take a nut or an acorn 
 out of his hand, run up a stick, nestle in his bosom, 
 and become quite familiar. My uncle had a tame 
 chitmunk that was much attached to him ; it lived 
 in his pocket or bosom ; it was his companion by 
 day and by night. When he was out in the forest 
 lumbering, or on the lake fishing, or in the fields 
 at work, it was always with him. At meals it sat 
 by the side of his plate, eating what he gave it ; 
 but he did not give it meat, as he thought that 
 might injure its health. One day he and his pet 
 were in the steam-boat, going to Toronto. He had 
 been showing off the little chitmunk's tri''ks to the 
 ladies and gentlemen on board the boat, and several 
 persons offered him money if he would sell it ; but 
 my uncle was fond of the little thing, and would 
 not part with it. However, just before he left the 
 boatj he missed his pet ; for a cunning Yankee 
 
 i 
 
( 
 
 I 
 
 A FEARLESS LITTLE FELLOW. 
 
 8f) 
 
 pedlar on board had stolen it. My uncle knew that 
 his little friend would not desert its old master ; so 
 ho went on deck where the passengers were as- 
 semLled, and whistled a popular tune familiar to the 
 chitmnnk. The little fellow, on hearing it, whisked 
 out of the pedlar's pocket, and running swiftly along a 
 railing against which he was standing, soon sought 
 refuge in his master's bosom." 
 
 Lady Mary clapped her hands with joy, and said, 
 "I am so glad, nurse, that the chitmunk ran back to 
 his old friend. I wish it had bitten that Yankee 
 pedlar's fingers." 
 
 " When angry these creatures will bite very 
 sharply, set up their tails, and run to and fro, and 
 make a chattering sound with their teeth. The red 
 squirrel is very fearless for its size, and will some- 
 times turn round and face you, set up its tail, and 
 scold. But they will, when busy eating the seeds of 
 tlie sunflowor or thistle, of which they are very fond, 
 suffer you to stand and watch them witiiout attempt- 
 ing to run away. When near their granaries, or the 
 tree where their nest is, they arc (iiivvilliiig to leave 
 it, running to and fro, and uttering their ani,^^ notes ; 
 but if a dog is iio.ir they make for a tree, and as soon 
 as they are out of his reach, turn round to chatter 
 and scold, as long as he remains in sight. When 
 hard pressed, the black and Hying sc^uirrels will take 
 prodigious leaps, springing from bough to bough, and 
 from tree to tree. In this manner they baffle the 
 hunters, and travel a great distance over the tops 
 
 \i i 
 
00 
 
 WINTER STORES. 
 
 of the tvoca. Onco I saw my uncle and brothers 
 chasing a hirgc hhick S([uirrcl. lie kept ont of reach 
 of tlie clogs, as well as out of sight of the men, hy 
 passing round and round the tree as he went up, so 
 that they could never get u fair shot at him. At 
 last, they got so provoked that they took their axes, 
 and set to work to chop down the tree. It was a 
 largo pine tree, and took them, some time. Just as 
 the tree was ready to fall, and was wavering to and 
 fro, the squirrel, that had kept on the topmost hough, 
 sprang nimbly to the next tree, and then to another, 
 and by the time the great pine had reached the ground, 
 the squirrel was far away in his nest among his little 
 ones, safe from hunters, guns, and dogs." 
 
 "The black squirrel must have wondered, I think, 
 nurse, why so many men and dogs tried to kill such 
 a little creature as he was. Do the black squirrels 
 sleep in the winter as well as the flying squirrels and 
 chitmunks?" 
 
 " No, Lady Mary ; I have often seen them on 
 bright days chasing each other over logs and brush- 
 heaps, and running gaily up the pine trees. They 
 are easily seen from the contrast which their jetty 
 black coats make with the sparkling white snow. 
 These creatures feed a good deal on the kernels of the 
 pines and hemlocks ; they also eat the buds of some 
 trees. They lay up great stores of nuts and grain 
 for winter use. The flying squirrels deep much, and 
 in the cold season lie heaped upon each other, for the 
 sake of warmth. As many as seven or eight may be 
 
I>J THE HARVEST FIELD. 
 
 01 
 
 i 
 
 found in one nest asleep. They sometimes awaken, 
 if there come a succession of warm days, as in the 
 January tliaw; for I must tell you that in this 
 country we generally have rain and mild weather for 
 a few days in the beginning of January, when the 
 snow nearly disappears from the ground. About 
 the 12th, the weather sets in again steadily cold; 
 when the little animals retire once more to sleep 
 in their winter cradles, which they rarely leave till 
 the hard weather is over." 
 
 " I suppose, nurse, when thi-y awake, they are 
 glad to eat some of the food they have laid up in 
 their granaries ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear, it is for this they gather their 
 hoards in mild weather ; which also supports them 
 in the spring months, and possibly even during the 
 summer, till grain and fruit are ripe. I was v/olk- 
 ing in the harvest field one day, where my brothers 
 were cradling wheat. As I passed along the f(3nce, 
 I noticed a great many little heaps of wheat lying 
 here and there on the rails, also upon tlie tops of the 
 stumps in the field. I wondered at first who could 
 have placed them there, but presently noticed a num- 
 ber of red squirrels running very swiftly along the 
 fence, and perceived that they emptied their mouths 
 of a quantity of the new wheat, which they had been 
 diligently employed in collecting from the ears that 
 lay scattered over the ground. These little gleaners 
 did not seem to be at all alarmed at my presence, but 
 went to and fro as busv as bees. On taking some of 
 
92 
 
 THE EYE OF THE SEED. 
 
 tho grains into my hand, I noticed that the germ or 
 eyo of tlio kernels was bitten clean out." 
 
 "What was tliat for, nurse ? can you tell mo ? " 
 
 ^'My dear young lady, I did not know at first, till, 
 upon showing it to my father, ho told me that tho 
 squirrels destroyed the germ of the grain, such as 
 wheat or Indian corn, that they stored up for winter 
 use, that it might not sprout when buried in the 
 ground or in a hollow tree." 
 
 "This is very strange, nurse," said the little girl. 
 "But I suppose," she added, after a moment's thought, 
 " it was God who taught the squirrels to do bo. But 
 why would biting out the eye prevent the grain from 
 growing ? " 
 
 " Because the eye or bud contains the life of the 
 plant; from it springs the green blade, and the stem 
 that bears the car, and the root that strikes down to 
 the earth. The flowery part, which swelis and be- 
 j^mes soft and jelly-like, serves to nourish the young 
 plant till the tender fibres of the roots are able to 
 draw moisture from the ground." 
 
 Lady Mary asked if all seeds had an eye or germ. 
 
 Her nurse replied that all had, though some were 
 so minute that they looked no bigger than dust, or a 
 grain of sand; yet each was perfect in its kind, and 
 contained tho plant that would, when sown in the 
 earth, bring forth roots, leaves, buds, flowers, and 
 fruits in due season. 
 
 " How glad I should have been to see tho little 
 g(iuirrel8 gleaning the wheat, and laying it in the 
 
 ) 
 
 
 fj 
 
 1) 
 

 SOCIAL (illTMUNKS. 
 
 !):i 
 
 llltlo heaps on tlio rail foncc. Wliy did (licy not 
 carry it at once to their nests? " 
 
 " They hiid it out in tlie sun and wind to dry ; for 
 if it had heen stored away while damp, it would have 
 moulded, and have been spoiled. 'I'ho 8([uirrels were 
 busy all that day ; when I went to sec them ai^ain, 
 tlie grain was gone. I saw several red squirrels 
 running up and down a large pine tree, wliicli had 
 been broken by the wind at the top; and there, no 
 doubt, they had laid up stores. '^Fhese squirrels did 
 not follow each other in a straight line, but ran round 
 and round in a spiral direction, so that they never 
 hindered each other, nor came in each other's way : 
 two were always going up, Avhile the other two were 
 going down. They seem to work in families ; for 
 the young ones, though old enough to get their own 
 living, usually inhabit the same nest, and help to 
 store up the grain for winter use. They all separate 
 again in spring. The little chitmunk does not livd^ 
 in trees, but burrows in the ground, or makes its nest 
 in some largo hollow log. It is very pretty to see 
 the little chitmunks, on a warm spring day, run- 
 ning about and chasing each other among the moss 
 and leaves; they are not bigger than mice, but look 
 bright and lively. The fur of all the squirrel tribe 
 is used in trimming, but the gray is the best and 
 most valuable. It has often been remarked by the 
 Indians, and others, that the red and black squirrels 
 never live in the same place; for the red, though the 
 Kmallest, beat away the black ones. The flesh of the 
 
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94 
 
 COING OUT ON BUSINESS. 
 
 black squirrel is very good to eat; the Indians also 
 eat the red." 
 
 Lady Mary was very glad to hear all these things, 
 and quite forgot to play with her doll. " Please, 
 Mrs. Frazer," said the little lady, " tell me now 
 about beavers and muskrats." But Mrs. Frazer was 
 obliged to go out on business; she promised, how- 
 ever, to tell Lady Mary all she knew about these 
 animals another day. 
 
 # 
 
 ^ 
 
also 
 
 mgs, 
 ease, 
 now 
 ' was 
 
 lOW- 
 
 ihese 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 INDIAN BASKETS — THREAD PLANTS — MAPLE SUGAR-TREE — 
 INDIAN OUNAMENTAL WORKS — RACOONS. 
 
 ? was some time before Lady Mary's nurse 
 could tell her any more stories. She 
 received a letter from her sister-in-law, in- 
 forming her that her brother was dangerously ill, 
 confined to what was feared would prove his death- 
 bed, and that he earnestly desired to see her before 
 ho died. The Governor's lady, who was very kind 
 and good to all her household, readily consented to 
 let Mrs. Frazer go to her sick relatioB. 
 
 Lady Mary parted from her dear nurse, whom she 
 loved very tenderly, with much regret. Mrs. Frazer 
 told her that it might be a fortnight before she could 
 return, as her brother lived on the shores of one of 
 the small lakes, neai the head waters of the Otonabee 
 river, a great way off; but she promised to return as 
 soon as she could, and, to console her young mistress 
 for her absence, promised to bring her some Indian 
 toys from the backwoods. 
 
 The month of March passed away pleasantly, for 
 Lady Mary enjoyed many delightful sleigh-drives 
 
 
'•5 -,- 
 
 06 
 
 AN INDIAN UASKIiT. 
 
 with licr papa and mamma, who took every oppor- 
 tunity to instruct and amuse her. On entering her 
 nursery one day, after enjoying a long drive in the 
 country, great was lier joy to find her good nurse ait- 
 ting quietly at work hy the stove. She was dressed 
 in deep mourning, and looked much thinner and paler 
 than when she had last seen her. 
 
 The kind little girl knew, when she saw her 
 nursc'p black dress, that her brother must be dead ; 
 and with the thoughtfulness of a true lady, remained 
 very quiet, and did not annoy her with questions 
 about trifling matters: she spoke low and gently to 
 her, and tried to comfort her when she saw large 
 tears falling on the work which she held in her hand, 
 and kindly said, " Mrs. Frazer, you had better lie 
 down and rest yourself, for you must be tired after 
 your long, long journey." 
 
 The next day Mrs. Frazer seemed to be much 
 better ; and she showed Lady Mary an Indian basket 
 made of birch-bark, very richly wrought with coloured 
 porcupine-quills, and which had two lids. 
 
 Lady Mary admired the splendid colours, and 
 strange patterns on the basket. 
 
 "It is for you, my dear," said her nurse; "open 
 it, and see what is in it." Lady Mary lifted one of 
 the lids, and took out another small basket, of a dif- 
 ferent shape and pattern. It had a top, which was 
 sewn down with coarse-looking thread, which her 
 nurse told her was nothing but the sinews of the 
 deer, dried and beaten fine, and drawn out like thread. 
 
 ..^ 
 
CARRYING INFANT3. 
 
 97 
 
 Then, taking an end of it in her hand, she made 
 Lady Mary observe that these coarse threads could 
 be separated into a great number of finer ones, sufK- 
 ciently delicate to pass through the eye of a fine needle, 
 or to string tiny beads. 
 
 " The Indians, my lady, sew with the sinews of 
 the wild animals they kill. These sinews are much 
 stronger and tougher than thread, and therefore are 
 well adapted to sew together such things as moccasins, 
 leggings, and garments made of the skins of wild 
 animals. The finer threads are used for sewing the 
 beads and quill ornaments on moccasins, sheaths, and 
 pouches, besides other things that I cannot now 
 think of. 
 
 " Oh yes, I must tell you one thing more they 
 make with these sinews. How do you think the 
 Indian women carry their infants when they go on a 
 long journey ? They tie them to a board, and wrap 
 them up in strong bandages of linen or cotton, which 
 they sew firmly together with their stoutest thread, 
 and then they suspend the odd-looking burden to 
 their backs. By this contrivance, they lessen the 
 weight of the child considerably, and are able to walk 
 many miles without showing signs of fatigue. It is 
 also much more pleasant and healthy for the child 
 than to be uncomfortably cramped up in its mother's 
 arms, and shifted about from side to side, as first 
 one arm aches, and then the other. 
 
 "The Indian women sew some things with the 
 roots of the tamarack, or larch ; such as coarse birch- 
 
 (211) 7 
 
98 
 
 WAH-TAP DESCRIBED. 
 
 INDIAN SQUAW AND BABY. 
 
 baskets, bark canoes, and the covering of their wig- 
 wams. They call this 'wah-tap'* (wood-thread), 
 
 • Asclepia parviflora. 
 
 I 
 
 
INDIAN HEMP. 
 
 09 
 
 \ 
 
 
 i^/i'> 
 ,/~^ 
 
 \ 
 
 Vlg- 
 
 ad), 
 
 and they prepare it by pulling off the outer rind and 
 steeping it in water. It is the larger fibres which 
 have the appearance of small cordage when coiled up 
 and fit for use. This *wah-tap' is very valuable to 
 these poor Indians. There is also another plant, 
 called Indian hemp, whidh is a small shrubby kind 
 of milk-weed, that grows on gravelly islands. It 
 bears white flowers, and the branches are long and 
 slender; under the bark there is a fine silky thread 
 covering the wood; this is tough, and can be twisted 
 and spun into cloth. It is very white and fine, and 
 does not easily break. There are other plants of the 
 same family, with pods full of fine shining silk; but 
 these are too brittle to spin into thread. This last 
 kind. Lady Mary, which is called Milk-weed flytrap, 
 I will show you in summer."* 
 
 But while Mrs. Frazer was talking about these 
 plants, the little lady was examining the contents of 
 the small birch-box. "If you please, nurse, will you 
 tell me what these dark shining seeds are?" 
 
 "These seeds, my dear, are Indian rice; an old 
 squaw, Mrs. Peter Noggan, gave me this as a present 
 for ' Governor's daughter; '" and Mrs. Frazer imitated 
 the soft, whining tone of the Indian, which made 
 Lady Mary laugh. 
 
 " The box is called a ' mowkowk.' There is an- 
 other just like it, only there is a white bird — a 
 snow-bird, I suppose it is intended for — worked on 
 the lid." The lid of this box was fastened down 
 
 \ 
 
 ^Asclepia Syriaca. 
 
•i^u 
 
 100 
 
 A SHEATH FOR SCISSORS. 
 
 with a narrow slip of deer-skin; Lady Mary cut the 
 fastening, and raised the lid — " Nurse, it is only 
 yellow sand; how droll, to send me a box of sand ! " 
 
 "It is not sand; taste it. Lady Mary." 
 
 " It is sweet — it is sugar ! Ah ! now I know what 
 it is that this kind old squaw has sent me; it is 
 maple-sugar, and is very nice. I will go and show 
 it to mamma." 
 
 "Wait a little. Lady Mary; let us see what there 
 is in the basket besides the rice and the maple-sugar." 
 
 "What a lovely thing this is, dear nurse! what can 
 it be ? " 
 
 "It is a sheath for your scissors, my dear; it is 
 made of doe-skin, embroidered with white beads, 
 and coloured quills split fine, and sewn with deer- 
 sinew thread. Look at these curious bracelets." 
 
 Lady Mary examined the bracelets, and said she 
 thought they were wrought with beads ; but Mrs. 
 Frazer told her that what she took for beads were 
 porcupine quills, cut out very finely, end strung in a 
 pattern. They were not only neatly but tastefully 
 made ; the pattern, though a Grecian scroll, having 
 been carefully imitated by some Indian squaw. 
 
 " This embroidered knife-sheath is large enough 
 for a hunting-knife," said Lady Mary, "a ^couteau de 
 chasse,^ — is it not ? " 
 
 " This sheath was worked by the wife of Isaac Iron, 
 
 an educated chief of the Mud Lake Indians ; she gave 
 
 it to me because I had been kind to her in sickness." 
 
 " I will give it to my dear papa," said Lady 
 
 » 
 
 
LADY MARY 8 TREASURES. 
 
 101 
 
 I 
 
 
 Mary, " for I never go out hunting, and do not wish 
 to carry a large knife by my side ; " and she laid the 
 sheath away, after having admired its gay colours, 
 and particularly the figure of a little animal worked 
 in black and white quills, which was intended to re- 
 present a racoon. 
 
 " This is a present for your doll ; it is a doll's 
 mat, woven by a little girl, aged seven years, Rachel 
 Muskrat; and here is a little canoe of red cedar, 
 made by a little Indian boy." 
 
 " What a darling little boat ! and there is a fish 
 carved on the paddles." This device greatly pleased 
 Lady Mary, who said she would send Rachel a wax 
 doll, and little Moses a knife or some other useful 
 article, when Mrs. Frazer went again to the Lakes ; 
 but when her nurse took out of the other end of the 
 basket a birch-bark cradle, made for her doll, worked 
 very richly, she clapped her hands for joy, saying, 
 " Ah, nurse, you should not have brought me so 
 many pretty things at once, for I am too happy ! " 
 
 The remaining contents of the basket consisted f 
 seeds and berries, and a small cake of maple-sugar, 
 which Mrs. Frazer had made for the young lady. This 
 was very different in appearance from the Indian 
 sugar ; it was bright and sparkling, like sugar-candy, 
 and tasted sweeter. The other sugar was dry, and 
 slightly bitter: Mrs. Frazer told Lady Mary that 
 this peculiar taste was caused by the birch-bark 
 vessels, which the Indians used for catching the sap, 
 as it flowed from the maple-trees. 
 
102 
 
 MAPLE-SUGAR. 
 
 " I wonder who taught the Indians how to make 
 maple-sugar?" asked the child. 
 
 " I do not know," replied the nurse. " I have 
 heard that they knew how to make this sugar 
 when the discoverers of the country found them.* 
 It may be that they found it out by accident. The 
 RUgar-maple when wounded in March or April, 
 yields a great deal of sweet liquor. Some Indians 
 may have supplied themselves with this juice, .when 
 pressed for want of water ; for it flows so freely in 
 warm days in spring, that several pints can be ob- 
 tained from one tree in the course of the day. By 
 boiling this juice, it becomes very sweet ; and at 
 last when all the thin watery part has gone off in 
 steam, it becomes thick, like honey ; by boiling it 
 still longer, it turns to sugar, when cold. So you 
 see, my dear, that the Indians may have found it 
 out by boiling some sap, instead of water, and letting 
 it remain on the fire till it grew thick." 
 
 " Are there many kinds of maple-trees, that sugar 
 can be made from, nurse?" asked the little girl. 
 
 " YeSjt my lady ; but I believe the sugar-maple 
 yields the best sap for the purpose; that of the 
 birch-tree, I have heard, can be made into sugar; 
 but it would require a larger quantity ; weak wine, 
 or vinegar, is made by the settlers of birch-sap. 
 
 * However this may be, the French settlers claim the merit of con- 
 VQrting the sap into sugar. 
 
 t All the maple tribe are of a saccharine nature. Sugar has been 
 made in England from the sap of the sycamore. 
 
USES OF THE MAPLE-TREE. 
 
 103 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 which is very pleasant tasted. The people wlio live 
 in the backwoods, and make maple-sugar, always 
 make a keg of vinegar at the sugaring off." 
 
 *' That must be very useful ; but if the sap is sweet, 
 how can it be made into such sour stuff as vinegar?" 
 
 Then nurse tried to make Lady Mary understand 
 that the heat of the sun, or of a warm room, would 
 make the liquor ferment, unless it had been boiled a 
 long time, so as to become very sweet, and somewhat 
 thick. The first fermentation, she told her, would 
 give only a winy taste; but if it continued to ferment 
 a great deal, it turned sour, and became vinegar. 
 
 " How very useful the maple-tree is, nurse ! I 
 wish there were maples in the garden, and I would 
 make sugar, molasses, wine, and vinegar ; and what 
 else would I do with my maple-tree ? " 
 
 Mrs. Frazer laughed, and said, — " The wood 
 makes excellent fuel; but is also used in making 
 bedsteads, chests of drawers, and many other things. 
 There is a very pretty wood for furniture, called 
 * bird's-eye maple ; ' the drawers in my bedroom 
 that you think so pretty are made of it ; but it is 
 a disease in the tree that causes it to have these 
 little marks all through the wood. In autumn, this 
 tree improves the forest landscape, for the bright scar- 
 let leaves of the maple give a beautiful look to the 
 woods in the fall. The red or soft maple (Acer 
 rubrus), another species, is very bright when the 
 leaves are changing, but it gives no sugar." 
 
 Then I will not let it grow in my garden, nurse ! " 
 
 (< 
 
 -''Sfe'^ 
 
I 
 
 104 
 
 EAR AND KYK. 
 
 " It is good for other purposes, my deftr. Tlio 
 settlers use the bark for dyeing wool ; and a jot 
 black ink can bo made from it, by boiling down the 
 bark with a bit of copperas, in an iron vessel ; so 
 you see it is useful. The bright red flowers of this 
 tree look very pretty in the spring ; it grows best by 
 the water-side, and some call it 'the swamp-maple.' " 
 
 This was all Mrs. Frazer could tell Lady Mary 
 about the maple-trees. Many little girls, as young 
 as the Governor's daughter, would have thought it 
 very dull to listen to what her nurse had to say 
 about plants and trees ; but Lady Mary would put 
 aside her dolls and toys, to stand beside her to ask 
 questions, and listen to her answers ; the more she 
 heard the more she desired to hear, about these 
 things. " The hearing ear, and the seeing eye, arc 
 two things that are never satisfied," saith the wise 
 king Solomon. 
 
 Lady Mary was delighted with the contents of 
 her Indian basket, and spent the rest of her play- 
 hours in looking at the various articles it contained, 
 and asking her nurse questions about the materials 
 of which they were made. Some of the bark-boxes 
 were lined with paper, but the doll's cradle was not, 
 and Lady Mary perceived that the inside of it was 
 very rough, caused by the hard ends of the quills with 
 which it was ornamented. At first she could not 
 think how the squaws worked with the quills, as 
 they could not possibly thread them through the 
 eye of a needle ; but her nurse told her that when 
 
 
i 
 
 INDIAN HANDIWORK. 
 
 105 
 
 I 
 
 
 they want to work any pattern in biruli-bark, they 
 trace it with Home sharp-pointed instrument, such 
 aR a nail, or bodkin, or even a sharp thorn, with 
 which they pierce holes close together round the 
 edge of the leaf, or blade, or bird they have drawn 
 out on the birch-bark ; into these holes thiiy insert 
 one end of the quill, the other end is then drawn 
 through the opposite hole, pulled tight, bent a little, 
 and cut off on the inside. This any one of my 
 young readers may see, if they examine the Indian 
 baskets or toys, made of birch-bark. " I have seen 
 the squaws in their wigwams at work on these 
 things, sitting cross-legged on their mats, — some 
 had the quills in a little bark dish on their laps, 
 while others held them in their mouths — not a very 
 safe nor delicate way ; but Indians are not very nice 
 in some of their habits," said Mrs. Frazer. "The 
 prettiest sort of Indian work is done in coloured 
 moose-hair, with which, formed into a sort of rich 
 embroidery, they ornament the moccasins, hunting- 
 knife, sheaths, and birch-bark baskets and toys." 
 
 " Nurse, if you please, will you tell me what this 
 little animal is designed to represent ? " said Lady 
 Mary, pointing to the figure of the racoon worked in 
 quills on the sheath of the hunting-knife. 
 
 "It is intended for a racoon, my lady,"' replied 
 her nurse. 
 
 " Is the racoon a pretty creature like my squir- 
 rel?" 
 
 "It is much larger than your squirrel ; its fur is 
 
 I 
 
J 
 
 106 
 
 HABITS OF THE RACOONS. 
 
 not nearly so soft or so fine ; the colour being black 
 and gray, or dun; the tail barred across, and 
 bushy, — you have seen many sleigh-robes made of 
 racoon-skins, with the tails looking like tassels at 
 the back of the sleighs/' 
 
 " Oh yes, and a funny, cunning-looking face peep- 
 ing out too ! " 
 
 " The face of this little animal is sharp, and the 
 eyes black and keen, like a fox ; the feet bare, like 
 the soles of our feet, only black and leathery; 
 their claws are very sharp; they can climb trees 
 very fast. During the winter the racoons sleep in 
 hollow trees, and cling together for the sake of keep- 
 ing each other warm. The choppers find as many 
 as seven or eight in one nest, fast asleep. Most pro- 
 bably the young family remain with the old ones 
 until spring, when they separate. The racoon in its 
 habits is said to resemble the bear ; like the bear, 
 it lives chiefly on vegetables, especially Indian corn, 
 but I do not think that it lays by any store for 
 winter. They sometimes awake if there come a few 
 warm days, but soon retire again to their warm, 
 cozy nests." 
 
 " Racoons will eat eggs ; and fowls are often 
 taken by them, — perhaps this is in the winter, when 
 they wake up and are pressed by hunger." 
 
 Her nurse said that one of her friends had a ra- 
 coon which he kept in a wooden cage, but he was 
 obliged to have a chain and collar to keep him 
 from getting away, as he used to gnaw the bars 
 
 ai 
 c 
 
 
 S( 
 
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 
 
 lo; 
 
 
 asunder ; and had slily stolen away and killed some 
 ducks, and was almost as mischievous as a fox, but 
 was very lively and amusing in his way. 
 
 Lady Mary now left her good nurse, and took 
 her basket, with all its Indian treasures, to show to 
 her mamma, with whom we leave her for the pre- 
 sent. 
 
 
 I I 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CANADIAN BIRDS — SNOW SPARROW — ROBIN REDBREAST- 
 CANADIAN FLOWERS — AMERICAN PORCUPINE. 
 
 u 
 
 PRINO 
 
 IS coming, nurse — spring is 
 coming at last ! " exclaimed the Gover- 
 nor's little daughter, joyfully. " The 
 snow is going away at last ! I am tired of the white 
 snow ; it makes my eyes ache. I want to see the 
 brown earth, and the grass, and the green moss, and 
 the pretty flowers again." 
 
 " It will be some days before this deep covering 
 of snow is gone. The streets are still slippery with 
 ice, which it will take some time, my lady, to 
 soften." 
 
 " But, nurse, the sun shines, and there are little 
 streams of water running along the streets in every 
 direction. See, the snow is gone from under the 
 bushes and trees in the garden. I saw some dear 
 little birds flying about, and I watched them perch- 
 ing on the dry stalks of the tall, rough weeds, and 
 they appeared to be picking seeds out of the husks. 
 Can you tell me what birds they were?" 
 
 " I saw the flock of birds you mean, Lady Mary. 
 
 
THE SNOW-SPARROWS. 
 
 109 
 
 ' 
 
 • 
 
 WATCHING THE BIKPS. 
 
 They are the common snow-sparrows* — almost our 
 earliest visitants, for they may be seen in April, 
 mingled with the brown song-sparrow,t flitting 
 
 Fringilla nivalis. 
 
 t Fringilla melodia. 
 
110 
 
 THE AMERICAN ROBIN. 
 
 about the garden fences, or picking the stalks of the 
 tall mullein and amaranths, to find the seeds that 
 have not been shaken out by the autumn winds ; 
 and possibly they also find insects cradled in the 
 husks of the old seed-vessels. These snow-sparrows 
 are very hardy ; and though some migrate to the 
 States in the beginning of winter, a few stay in the 
 Upper Province, and others come back to us before 
 the snow is all gone." 
 
 " They are very pretty, neat-looking birds, nurse ; 
 dark slate colour, with white breasts." 
 
 " When I was a little girl I used to call them my 
 Quaker-birds, they looked so neat and prim. In the 
 summer you may find their nests in the brush-heaps 
 near the edge of the forest. Tliey sing a soft, low song." 
 
 " Nurse, I heard a bird singing yesterday when I 
 was in the garden; a little, plain, brown bird, nurse." 
 
 " It was a song-sparrow. Lady Mary. This cheer- 
 ful little bird comes with the snow-birds, often before 
 the robin." 
 
 " Oh, nurse, the robin ! I wish you would show 
 me a darling robin redbreast. I did not know they 
 lived in Canada." 
 
 " The bird that we call the robin in this country, 
 my dear, is not like the little redbreast you have 
 seen at home. Our robin is twice as large. Though 
 in shape resembling the European robin, I believe it 
 is really a kind of thrush.* It migi'ates in the fall, 
 and returns to us early in the spring." 
 
 * Turdus migratoria. 
 
A ROBIN S NEST. 
 
 HI 
 
 I 
 
 it 
 II, 
 
 " WLat is migrating, nurse ? Is it the same as 
 emigrating ? " 
 
 " Yes, Lady Mary ; for when a person leaves his 
 native country, and goes to live in another country, 
 he is said to emigrate. This is the reason why the 
 English, Scotch, and Irish families who come to live 
 in Canada are called emigrants." 
 
 " What colour are the Canadian robins, nurse ? " 
 
 " The head is blackish ; the back, lead colour ; 
 and the breast is pale orange — not so bright a red, 
 however, as the real robin." 
 
 " Have you ever seen their nests, nurse ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear, many of them. It is not a pretty 
 nest. It is large, and coarsely put together, of old 
 dried grass, roots, and dead leaves, plastered inside 
 with clay, mixed with bits of straw, so as to form a 
 sort of mortar. You know, Lady Mary, that the 
 blackbird and thrush build nests, and plaster them 
 in this way ? " 
 
 The little lady nodded her head in assent. 
 
 " Nurse, I once saw a robin's nest when I was in 
 England. It was in the side of a mossy ditch, with 
 primroses growing close beside it. It was made of 
 green moss, and lined with white wool and hair. 
 It 'was a pretty nest, with nice eggs in it ; much 
 better than your Canadian robin's nest." 
 
 " Our robins build in upturned roots, in the 
 corners of rail fences, and in the young pear-trees 
 and apple-trees in the orchard. The eggs are a 
 greenish-blue. The robin sings a full, clear song ; 
 
 ( I 
 
112 
 
 FLIGHT OF WILD-FOWL. 
 
 indeed, he is our best songster. We have so few 
 singing-birds that wo prize those that do sing very 
 much." 
 
 " Does the Canadian robin come into the house in 
 winter, and pick up the crumbs, as the dear little 
 redbreasts do at home ? " 
 
 " No, Lady Mary ; they are able to find plenty of 
 food abroad when they return to us, but they hop 
 about the houses and gardens pretty freely. In the 
 fall, before they go away, they may be seen in great 
 numbers, running aoout the old pastures, picking up 
 worms and seeds." 
 
 " Do people see the birds flying away together, 
 nurse ? ** 
 
 " Not often, my dear ; for most birds congregate 
 together in small flocks, and depart unnoticed. 
 Many go away at night, when we are sleeping ; and 
 some fly very high on cloudy days, so that they are 
 not distinctly seen against the dull, gray sky. The 
 water-birds — such as geese, swans, and ducks — take 
 their flight in large bodies. They are heard making 
 a continual noise in the air ; and may be seen 
 grouped in long lines, or in the form of the letter V 
 lying on its side (>•), the point generally directed 
 southward or westward, the strongest and oldest 
 birds acting as leaders. When tired, these aquatic 
 generals fall backward into the main body, and are 
 replaced by others." 
 
 Lady Mary was much surprised at the order and 
 sagacity displayed by wild-fowl in their flight ; and 
 
BIRDS AS BUILDERS. 
 
 113 
 
 y are 
 The 
 
 ■take 
 king 
 seen 
 erV 
 icted 
 dest 
 atic 
 are 
 
 and 
 and 
 
 Mrs. Frazer told her that some other time she would 
 tell her some more facts respecting their migration 
 to other countries. 
 
 " Nurse, will you tell me something about birds' 
 nests, and what they make them of ? " 
 
 " Birds that live chiefly in the depths of the 
 forest, or in solitary places, far away from the 
 haunts of men, build their nests of ruder materials, 
 and with less care in the manner of putting them 
 together. Dried grass, roots, and a little moss, 
 seem to be the materials they make use of. It has 
 been noticed by many persons, my dear, that those 
 birds that live near towns and villages and cleared 
 farms, soon learn to make better sorts of nests, and 
 to weave into them soft and comfortable things, such 
 as silk, wool, cotton, and hair." 
 " That is very strange, nurse." 
 "It is so, Lady Mary ; but the same thing may 
 also be seen among human beings. The savage 
 nations are contented with rude dwellings made of 
 sticks and cane, covered with skins of beasts, bark, 
 or reeds ; but when they once unite together in a 
 more social state, and live in villages and towns, a 
 desire for improvement takes place. The tent of 
 skins or the rude shanty is exchanged for a hut 
 of better shape ; and this in time gives place to 
 houses and furniture of more useful and ornamental 
 kinds." 
 
 " Nurse, I heard mamma say that the Britons 
 who lived in England were once savages, and lived 
 
 (211) 8 
 
! 
 
 '\ 
 
 lU 
 
 THE FIRST BLOOM. 
 
 in caves, huts, and thick woods ; that they dressed 
 in skins, and painted their bodies like the Indians." 
 
 " When you read the history of England, you will 
 see that such was the case," said Mrs. Frazer. 
 
 " Nurse, perhaps the little birds like to see the 
 flowers, and the sunshine, and the blue sky, and 
 men's houses. I will make my garden very pretty 
 tliis spring, and plant some nice flowers, to please 
 the dear little birds." 
 
 Many persons would have thought such remarks 
 very foolish in our little lady. But Mrs. Frazer, who 
 was a good and wise woman, did not laugh at the 
 little girl ; for she thought it was a lovely thing to 
 see her wish to give happiness to the least of God's 
 creatures, for it was imitating his own goodness and 
 mercy, which delight in the enjoyment of the things 
 which he has called into existence. 
 
 " Please, Mrs. Frazer, will you tell me which 
 flowers will be first in bloom ? " 
 
 " The very first is a plant that comes up without 
 leaves." 
 
 " Nurse, that is the Christmas-rose.* I have 
 seen it in the old country." 
 
 " No, Lady Mary ; it is the colt's-foot.f It is a 
 common-looking, coarse, yellow-blossomed flower : 
 it is the first that blooms after the snow. Then 
 comes the pretty snow-flower, or hepatica. Its 
 pretty tufts of white, pink, or blue starry flowers 
 may be seen on the open clearing, or beneath the 
 
 * Winter Aconite. t Tussllago farfara. 
 
" VIOLETS, SWEET VIOLETS !' 
 
 115 
 
 . 
 
 shuJe of the half-cleared woods or upturned roots 
 and sunny banks. Like the English daisy, it grows 
 everywhere, and the sight of its bright starry blos- 
 soms delights every eye. The next flower that comes 
 in is the dog's-tooth-violet." * 
 
 " What a droll name ! " exclaimed Lady Mary, 
 laughing. 
 
 " I suppose it is called so from the sharpness of 
 the flower-leaves (petals), my lady ; but it is a beauti- 
 ful yellow lily. The leaves are also pretty ; they 
 are veined or clouded with milky white or dusky 
 purple. The plant has a bulbous root, and in the 
 month of April sends up its single, nodding, yellow- 
 spotted flowers. They grow in large beds, where 
 the ground is black, moist, and rich, near creeks on 
 the edge of the forest." 
 
 " Do you know any other pretty flowers, nurse ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lady ; there are a great many that 
 bloom in April and May : white violets, and blue 
 and yellow of many kinds. And then there is the 
 spring beauty,t a delicate little flower, with pink 
 striped bells ; and the everlasting flower ; J and 
 saxifrage ; and the white and dark red lily, that the 
 Yankees call * white and red death.' § These have 
 three green leaves about the middle of the stalk, 
 and the flower is composed of three pure white or 
 deep red leaves — petals my father used to call them : 
 for my father. Lady Mary, was a botanist, and knew 
 
 
 i 
 
 * Erythronium. 
 t Claytonia. 
 
 t Graphalium. 
 
 § Trillium, or Wake Robin. 
 
 mf^>: 
 
116 
 
 THE MOCCASIN FLOWER. 
 
 the names of all the flowers, unci I learned them 
 from him. The most curious is the moccasin flower. 
 The early one is bright golden yellow, and has a bag 
 or sack which is curiously spotted with ruby red, 
 and its petals are twisted like horns. There is a 
 hard, thick piece that lies down just above the sack 
 or moccasin part ; and if you lift this up, you see a 
 pair of round, dark spots like eyes, and the Indians 
 say it is like the face of a hound, with the nose and 
 black eyes plain to be seen. Two of the shorter, 
 curled, brown petals look like flapped ears, one on 
 each side of the face. There is a more beautiful 
 sort, purple and white, which blooms in August. 
 The plant is taller, and bears large, lovely flowers." 
 
 " And has it a funny face and ears too, nurse ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear ; but the face is more like an 
 ape's : it is even more distinct than in the yellow 
 moccasin. When my brother and I were children, 
 we used to fold back the petals, and call them baby 
 floweiTS : the sack, we thought, looked like a baby's 
 white frock." 
 
 Lady Mary was much amused at this notion. 
 
 " There are a great number of very beautiful and 
 also very curious flowers growing in the forest," said 
 Mrs. Frazer. " Some of them are used in medicine, 
 and some by the Indians for dyes, with which they 
 stain the baskets and porcupine quills. One of our 
 earliest flowers is called the blood-root.* It comes 
 up a delicate, white-folded bud, within a vine-shaped 
 
 * Sanguivaria. 
 
THE AMERICAN TORCUPINE. 
 
 117 
 
 
 leaf, which is veined on the under side with orange 
 yellow. If the stem or the root of this plant be 
 troken, a scarlet juice drops out very fast. It is 
 with this the squaws dye red and orange colours." 
 
 " I am glad to hear this, nurse. Now I can tell 
 my dear mamma what the baskets and quills are 
 dyed with.** 
 
 " The flower is very pretty, like a white crocus, 
 only not so large. You saw some crocuses in the 
 conservatory the other day, I think, my dear lady." 
 
 " Oh yes ; yellow ones, and purple too, in a funny 
 china thing, with holes in its back, and the flowers 
 came up through the holes. The gardener said it 
 was a porcupine. 
 
 " Please, nurse, tell me of what colours real por- 
 cupine quills are ? *' 
 
 " They are white and grayish-brown.** 
 
 Then Lady Mary brought a print and showed it 
 to her nurse, saying, — 
 
 " Nurse, is the porcupine like this picture ? " 
 
 " The American porcupine, my dear, is not 
 so large as this species : its spines are smaller 
 and weaker. It resembles the common hedgehog 
 more nearly. It is an innocent animal, feeding 
 mostly on roots * and small fruits. It burrows in 
 dry, stony hillocks, and passes the cold weather in 
 sleep. It goes abroad chiefly during the night. 
 
 * There is a plant of the lily tribe, upon whose roots the porcupine 
 feeds, as well as on wild bulbs and berries, and the bark of the black 
 spruce and larch. It will also eat apples and Indian corn. 
 
118 
 
 A DAINTY DISH. 
 
 Tho spines of tho Canatliaii porcupine are mucli 
 weaker than those of the African species. Tl»e 
 Indians trap these creatures, and eat their flesh. 
 They bake them in their skins in native ovens — 
 holes made in the earth, lined with stones, whicli 
 they make very hot, covering them over with 
 embers." 
 
 Mrs. Frazer had told Lady Mary all she knew 
 about the porcupine, when Campbell, the footman, 
 came to say that her papa wanted to see her. 
 
 ! 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 
 INDIAN BAG — INDIAN EMBROIDERY — BEAVEK S TAII, — 
 BEAVER ARCHITECTURE — HABITS OF THE BEAVKK — 
 BEAVEU TOOLS — BEAVER MEADOWS. 
 
 I HEN Lady Mary went clown to her father, 
 ho presented her with a beautiful Indian 
 1131 bag, which he had brought from Luke 
 Huron, in tlie Upper Province. It was of fine doe- 
 skin, very nicely wrought with dyed moose-hair, and 
 the pattern was very pretty; the border was of 
 scarlet feathers on one side, and blue on the other, 
 which formed a rich silken fringe at each edge. 
 This was a present from the wife of a chief on Mani- 
 toulin Island. Lady Mary was much delighted with 
 her present, and admired this new-fashioned work in 
 moose-hair very much. The feathers, Mrs. Frazer 
 told her, were from the summer red-bird or war-bird, 
 and the blue-bird, both oi \'hich Lady Mary said 
 she had seen. The Indians use these feathers as 
 ornaments for their heads and shoulders on grand 
 occasions. 
 
 Lady Mary recollected hearing her mamma speak 
 of Indians who wore mantles and dresses of gay 
 
 i 
 
120 
 
 FATHERS PRESENT. 
 
 THE PRESENT FROM FATHER. 
 
 featliers. They were chiefs of the Sandwich Islands, 
 ahe believed, who had these superb habits. 
 
THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. 
 
 121 
 
 1 
 
 "You might tell me something about these Indians, 
 nurse," said little Mary. 
 
 " I might occupy whole days in describing their 
 singular customs, my dear," replied Mrs. Frazer, 
 " and I fear you would forget one half of what I told 
 you. But there are numerous interesting books in 
 reference to them, which you will read as you grow 
 older. You would be much amused at the appear- 
 ance of an Indian chief, when dressed out in the 
 feathers we have been speaking of ; his face covei'ed 
 with red paint ; his robe flowing loose and free ; and 
 his calumet, or pipe, gaily decked with ribbons. The 
 Indians are great oratore, being distinguished by 
 their graceful gestures, their animated air, and their 
 vigorous and expressive style. They are tall, well- 
 made, and athletic; their complexion of a reddish 
 copper colour ; their hair long, coarse, and jet-black. 
 Their senses are remarkably acute, and they can see 
 and hear with extraordinary distinctness. They will 
 follow up the track of a man or animal through the 
 dense woods and across the vast plains by trifling 
 signs, which no European can detect. Their tem- 
 perament is cold and unimpassioned ; they are capable 
 of enduring extreme hunger and thirst, and seem 
 almost insensible to pain. Under certain circum- 
 stances they are generous and hospitable, but when 
 once roused, their vengeance is not easily satisfied. 
 They will pursue a real or supposed foe with a hatred 
 which never tires, and gratify their lust of cruelty 
 by exposing him, v.hen captured, to the most hor- 
 
 ; 
 
122 
 
 THEIR HABITS AND CUSTOMS. 
 
 INDIAN CHIEF ADDRESSING HIS TRIBE. 
 
 rible torments. They support themselves by fishing 
 and on the spoils of the chase ; and though a few 
 tribes have become partially civilized, and devoted 
 
 ■ 
 
 
A DRIED BEAVER S TAIL. 
 
 123 
 
 i 
 
 themselves to the peaceful pursuits of husbandry, the 
 majority retire further and further into the dense 
 forests of the west as the white man continues his 
 advance, and wander, like their forefathers, about 
 the lonely shores of the great lakes, and on the banks 
 of the vast rolling rivers." 
 
 " Thank you, nurse ; I will not forget what you 
 have told me. And now, have you anything more 
 to say about birds and flowers ? I can never weary 
 of hearing about such interesting objects." 
 
 " I promised to tell you about the beavers, my 
 lady," replied Mrs. Frazer. 
 
 " Oh yes, about the beavers that make the dams 
 and the nice houses, and cut down whole trees. I 
 am glad you can tell me something about those 
 curious creatures ; for mamma bought me a pretty 
 picture, which I will show you, if you please," suid 
 the little girl. "But what is this odd-looking, black 
 thing here ? Is it a dried fish ? It must be a black 
 bass. Yes, nurse, I am sure it is." 
 
 The nurse smiled, and said : " It is not a fish at 
 all, my dear ; it is a dried beaver's tail. I brought 
 it from the back lakes when I was at home, that you 
 might see it. See, my lady, how curiously the 
 beaver's tail is covered with scales ; it looks like 
 some sort of black leather, stamped in a diaper pat- 
 tern. Before it is dried it is very heavy, weighing 
 three or four pounds. I have heard my brothers 
 and some of the Indian trappers say, that the animal 
 makes use of its tail to beat the sides of the dama 
 
 i s 
 i 
 
124 
 
 THE BEAVER S DAM. 
 
 and smooth the mud and clay, as a plasterer uses a 
 trowel. Some people think otherwise, but it seems 
 well suited from its shape and weight for the pur- 
 pose, and, indeed, as the walls they raise seem to 
 have been smoothed by some implement, I see no 
 reason to disbelieve the story." 
 
 " And what do the beavers make dams with, 
 nurse ? " 
 
 " With small trees cut into pieces, and drawn in 
 close to each other; and then the beavers fill the 
 spaces between with sods, and stones, and clay, and 
 all sorts of things, that they gather together and 
 work up into a solid wall. The walls are made 
 broad at the bottom, and are several feet in thick- 
 ness, to make them strong enough to keep the water 
 from washing through them. The beavers assemble 
 together in the fall, about the months of October 
 and November, to build their houses and repair their 
 dams. They prefer running water, as it is less likely 
 to freeze. They work in large parties, sometimes 
 fifty or a hundred together, and do a great deal in a 
 short time. They work during the night." 
 
 " Of what use is the dam, nurse?" 
 
 " The dam is for the purpose of securing a con- 
 stant supply of water, without which they could not 
 live. When they have enclosed the beaver-pond, 
 they separate into family parties of eleven or twelve, 
 perhaps more, sometimes less, and construct dwell- 
 ings, which are raised against the inner walls of the 
 dam. These little huts have two chambers, one in 
 
 ,Wf*^. 
 
A REMAKKAr.LE EDIFICE. 
 
 1-25 
 
 
 11 . ^v 
 .1' 
 
 ■ <!} i- 
 
 'dm 
 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 ■=^' 
 
 
 
 
 i^&^'^ 
 
 BEAVERS MAKING A DAM. 
 
 which they sleep, which is warm and soft and dry, 
 lined with roots and sedges and dry grass, and any 
 odds and ends that serve their purpose. The feed- 
 
126 
 
 " THE OLD HOUSE AT HOME." 
 
 It 
 
 ■ 
 
 ing place is below ; in this is stored the wood or the 
 bark on which they feed. The entrance to this is 
 under water, and hidden from sight ; but it is there 
 that the cunning hunter sets his trap to catch the 
 unsuspecting beavers. 
 
 " A beaver's house is large enough to allow two 
 men a comfortable sleeping-room, and it is kept very 
 clean. It is built of sticks, stones, and mud, and is 
 well plastered outside and in. The trowel the beaver 
 uses in plastering is his tail ; this is considered a 
 great delicacy at the table. Their beds are made of 
 chips, split as fine as the brush of an Indian broom ; 
 these are disposed in one corner, and kept dry and 
 sweet and clean. It is the bark of the green wood 
 that is used by the beavers for food ; after the stick 
 is peeled, they float it out at a distance from the 
 house. V Many good housewives might learn a lesson 
 of neatness and order from the humble beaver. 
 
 " In large lakes and rivers the beavers make no 
 dams; they have water enough without putting 
 themselves to that trouble ; but in small creeks they 
 dam up, and make a better stop-water than is done 
 by the millers. The spot where they build their 
 dams is the most labour-saving place in the valley, 
 and where the work will stand best. When the 
 dam is finished, not a drop of water escapes ; their 
 work is always well done." 
 
 " Nurse, do not beavers, and otters, and musk- 
 rats feel cold while living in the water ; and do they 
 not get wet ? " 
 
 
THE WISE BEAVERS. 
 
 127 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 " No, my dear ; they do not feel cold, and cannot 
 get wet, for the thick coating of hair and down keeps 
 them warm ; and these animals, like ducks and geese, 
 and all kinds of water-fowls, are supplied with a bag 
 of oil, with which they dress their coats, and that 
 throws off the moisture ; for you know. Lady Mary, 
 that oil and water will not mix. All creatures 
 that live in the water are provided with oily fur, or 
 smooth scales, that no water can penetrate ; and 
 water-birds, such as ducks and geese, have a little 
 bag of oil, with which they dress their feathers." 
 
 " Are there any beavers in England, nurse ?" asked 
 Lady Mary. 
 
 " No, my lady, not now ; but I remember my 
 father told me that this animal once existed in num- 
 bers in different countries of Europe ; he said they 
 were still to be found in Norway, Sweden, Russia, 
 Germany, and even in France.* The beaver abounds 
 mostly in North America, and in its cold portions ; in 
 solitudes that no foot of man but the wild Indian has 
 ever penetrated — in lonely streams and inland lakes — 
 these harmless creatures are found fulfilling God's 
 purpose, and doing injury to none. 
 
 " I think if there had been any beavers in the 
 land of Israel in Solomon's time, that the wise king 
 who spake of ants, spiders, grasshoppers, and conies,t 
 would have named the beavers also, as patterns of 
 
 * The remains of beaver dams in Wales prove that this interesting 
 animal was once a native of Great Britain, 
 t The rock rabbits of Judaea. 
 
128 
 
 PATIENCE AND PKRSEVKRANCE. 
 
 gentleness, cleanliness, and industry. They work 
 together in bands, and live in families, and never 
 fight or disagree. They have no chief or leader; 
 they seem to have neither king nor ruler ; yet they 
 work in perfect love and harmony. How pleasant 
 it would be. Lady Mary, if all Christian people 
 would love each other as these poor beavers seem 
 to do." 
 
 " Nurse, how can beavers cut down trees ; they 
 have neither axes nor saws?" 
 
 " Here, Lady Mary, are the axes and saws with 
 which Grod has provided these little creatures ; " and 
 Mrs. Frazer showed Lady Mary two long curved 
 tusks, of a reddish -brown colour, which she told her 
 were the tools used by the beavers to cut and gnaw 
 the trees ; she said she had seen trees as thick as a 
 man's leg that had been felled by these simple tools. 
 
 Lady Mary was much surprised that such small 
 animals could cut through anything so thick. 
 
 " In nature," replied her nurse, " we often see 
 great things done by very small means. Patience 
 and perseverance work well. The poplar, birch, and 
 some other trees, on which beavers feed, and whicli 
 they also use in making their dams, are softer and 
 more easily cut than oak, elm, or birch would be : 
 these trees are found growing near the water, and in 
 such places as the beavers build in. The settler 
 owes to the industrious habits of this animal those 
 large open tracts of land called beaver meadows, 
 covered with long, thick, rank grass, which ho cuts 
 
HECOLLKCTIONS OF HOME. 
 
 129 
 
 uts 
 
 down and uses as hay. Tliese Leaver meadows have 
 the appearance of dried-up hdvcs. Tlie soiris black 
 and spongy ; for you may put a stick down to the 
 depth of many feet. It is only in the montlis of 
 July, August, and September, that they are dry. 
 Bushes of black alder, with a few poplars and twin- 
 ing shrubs, are scattered over the beaver meadows, 
 some of which have high stony banks, and little 
 islands of trees. On these are many pretty wild- 
 flowers ; among others, I found growing on the dry 
 banks some real hare-bells, both blue and white." 
 
 " Ah, dear nurse, hare-bells ! did you find real 
 hare-bells, such as grow on the bonny Highland hills 
 among the heather ? I wish jiapa would let me go 
 to the Upper Province to see the beaver meadows, 
 and gather the dear blue-bells." 
 
 " My father, Lady Mary, wept when I brought him 
 a handful of these flowers ; for he said it reminded 
 him of his Highland home. I have found these 
 pretty bells growing on the wild hills about Rice 
 Lake, near the water, as well as near the beaver 
 meadows." 
 
 " Do the beavers sleep in the winter time, nurse?" 
 
 " They do not lie torpid, as racoons do, though 
 they may sleep a good deal ; but as they lay up a 
 great store of provisions for the winter, of course 
 they must awake sometimes to cat it." 
 
 Lady Mary thought so too. 
 
 " In the spring, when the long warm days return, 
 they quit their winter retreat, and separate in pairs, 
 
 t 
 
 (211) 
 
 9 
 
130 
 
 SOMETHING ABOUT INSTINCT. 
 
 
 
 living in holes in tlio bankn of lakes and rivers, and 
 do not unite again till the approach of the cold calls 
 them together to prepare for winter, as I told you." 
 
 "Who calls them all to build their winter houses?" 
 asked the child. 
 
 " The providence of God, usually called instinct, 
 that guides these animals ; doubtless it is the law 
 of nature given to them by God. 
 
 " There is a great resemblance in the habits of the 
 musk-rat and the beaver. They all live in the 
 water ; all separate in the spring, and meet again in 
 the fall to build and work together ; and, having 
 holpe<l each other in these things, they retire to a 
 private dwelling, each family to its own. The ottei- 
 does not make a dam, like the beaver, and I am not 
 sure that, like the beaver, it works in com[>anies : it 
 lives on fish and roots; the musk-rat on shell -fish 
 and roots ; and the beaver on vegetable food mostly. 
 Musk-rats and beavers are used for food, but the 
 flesh of the otter is too fishy to be eaten." 
 
 " Nurse, can people eat musk-rats ? " asked Lady 
 Mary, with surprise. 
 
 " Yes, my lady ; in the spring months the hunters 
 and Indians reckon them good food. T have eaten 
 them myself, but I did not like them ; they were too 
 fat. Musk-rats build a little house of rushes, and 
 plaster it ; they have two chambers, and do not lie 
 torpid ; they build in shallow, rushy places in lakes, 
 but in spring they quit their winter houses and are 
 often found in holes among the roots of trees. They 
 
A TAME BEAVBU. 
 
 131 
 
 livo oil mussels and shell-fisli. The fur is used in 
 inakin^ caps, and hats, and fur gloves." 
 " Nurse, did you ever see a tame beaver? " 
 " Yes, my dear; I know a squaw who had a tamo 
 bcavor, which she used to take out in her canoe with 
 her, and it sat in her lap, or on lior shoulder, and 
 was very playful." Just then the dinner-hell rang, 
 and as dinner at Government House waits for no one, 
 Lady Mary was obliged to defer hearing niore about 
 beavers until another time. 
 
 the 
 
 jady 
 
 - 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 INDIAN BOY AND U\H PF.TH — TAMK BKAVKIl AT IIOMR — 
 KITTEN, Wri-DPI UK — I'liT RACOON AND THE Hl'ANIEL I'UIM'IES 
 — CANADIAN KI.OUA. 
 
 UllSE, you liavo told mo a great many 
 nice stories ; now I can tell you one, if 
 you would like to hear it ; " ami the 
 Governor's little daughter fixed her bright eyes, 
 beaming with intelligence, on the face of lier nurse, 
 who smiled, and said she should like very much to 
 hear the story. 
 
 " You must guess what it is to be about, nurse." 
 
 " I am afraid I shall not guess right. Is it 'Little 
 Ked Riding Hood,' or ' Old Mother Hubbard,' or 
 'Jack the Giant-killer?'" 
 
 " Oh, nurse, to guess such silly stories ! " said the 
 little girl, stopping her ears. " Those are too silly 
 for me even to tell baby ! My story is a nice 
 story about a darling tame beaver. Major Pickford 
 took me on his knee and told me the story last 
 night." 
 
 Mrs. Frazer begged Lady Mary's pardon for 
 making such foolish guesses, and declared she should 
 
 
V 
 
 MFE IN TIIK lUJHil. 
 
 I'M] 
 
 , 
 
 . 
 
 ,, 
 
 like voiy mnoh to hoar Mjijor Pickfoid's story of tlio 
 taiiu; Lotivor. 
 
 " Well, nuiso, you must know tlioro was onoo n 
 gontlcniau who lived in the busli, on the banks of a 
 huuill lake, somewhere in Canada, a h»n^, long way 
 from Montreal. He lived all alone in a little log-house, 
 and spent his time in fishing and trap})ing and 
 hunting ; and he was very dull, for he had no wife, 
 and no little child like mo to talk to. The only 
 l)eo[)lo whom ho used to sec were some French 
 lumberers ; and now and then the Indians would 
 como in their canoes and fish on his lake, and make 
 their wigwams on the lake-shore, and hunt deer in 
 the wood. The gentleman was very fond of the 
 Indians, and used to pass a great deal of his time 
 with them, and talk to them in their own language. 
 
 " Well, nurse, one day he found a poor little Indian 
 boy who had been lost in the woods, and was half 
 starved, sick, and weak ; and the kind gentleman 
 took him home to his house, and fed and nursed him 
 till he got quite strong again. Was not that good, 
 nurse? " 
 
 " It was quite right, my lady. People should 
 always be kind to the sick and weak, and especially to 
 a poor Indian stranger. I like the story very much, 
 and shall be glad to hear more about the Indian 
 boy." 
 
 " Nurse, there is not a great deal more about the 
 Indian boy; for when the Indian party to which he 
 belonged returned from hunting, he went away to 
 
l?A 
 
 KOY AND I3EAVL:R. 
 
 
 his own home ; but I forgot to tell you that the 
 gentleman liad often said how much he should like 
 to have a young beaver to make a pet of. He was 
 very fond of pets ; he had a dear little squirrel, just 
 like mine, nurse, a flying si^uirrel, which he had 
 made so tame that it slept in his bosom and lived in 
 his pocket, where he kept nuts and acorns and apples 
 for it to cat ; and he had a racoon too, nurse — only 
 think, a real racoon ! and IMajor Pickford told me 
 some+hing so droll about the racoon, only I want 
 first to go on with the story about the beaver. 
 
 "One day, as the gentleman was sitting by the 
 fire reading, he heard a slight noise, and when he 
 looked up was quite surprised to see an Indian boy 
 in a blanket coat, with his dark eyes fixed upon his 
 face, while his long black hair hung down on his 
 shoulders. He looked quite wild, and did not say a 
 word, but only opened his blanket coat, and showed 
 a brown-furred animal asleep on his breast. What 
 do you think it was, nurse ? " 
 " A young beaver, my lady." 
 " Yes, nurse, it Avas a little beaver. The good 
 Indian boy had caught it and tamed it on purpose 
 to bring it to his white friend, who had been so good 
 to him. 
 
 " I cannot tell you all the amusing things the 
 Indian boy said about the beaver, though the Major 
 told them to me ; but I cannot talk like an Indian, 
 you knew, Mrs. Frazer. After the boy went away, 
 the gentleman set to work and made a little log-hoilse 
 
 . 
 
WORK AND MISCHIEF. 
 
 135 
 
 I 
 
 for his beaver to live in, and set it in a corner of the 
 shanty ; and he hollowed a large sugar-trough for 
 its water, that it might have water to wash in ; and 
 cut down some young willows and poplars and birch- 
 trees for it to eat. And the little beaver grew 
 very fond of its new master ; it would fondle him 
 just like a little squirrel, put its soft head on his 
 knee, and climb up on his lap. He taught it to eat 
 bread, sweet cake, and biscuit, and even roast and 
 boiled meat ; and it would drink milk too. 
 
 " Well, nurse, the little "beaver lived very happily 
 with this kind gentleman till the next fall, and then 
 it began to get very restless and active, as if it were 
 tired of doing nothing. One day its master heard 
 of the arrival of a friend some miles off, so he left 
 the beaver to take care of itself, and went away ; 
 but he did not forget to give it some green wood, 
 and plenty of water to drink and play in. He 
 stayed several days, for he was very glad to meet 
 with a friend in that lonely place ; but when he came 
 back, he could not open his door, and was obliged 
 to get in at the window. What do you think the 
 beaver had done ? It had built a dam against the 
 side of the trough, and a wall across the door ; and 
 it had dug up the hearth and the floor, and carried 
 the earth and the stones to help to make its dam, 
 and puddled it with water, and made such work I 
 The house w\as in perfect confusion, with mud, chips, 
 bark, and stone ; nnd oh, nurse, worse than all that, 
 ife had gnawed through the legs of the table and 
 
 n 
 
136 
 
 A FRISKY KITTEN. 
 
 chairs, and they were lying on tlie floor in sucli a 
 state ; and it cost the poor gentleman so much trouble 
 to put things to rights again, and make more chairs 
 and another table ! and when I laughed at the pranks 
 of that wicked beaver — for I could not help laughing 
 — the Major pinched my ear, and called me a mis- 
 chievous puss." 
 
 Mrs. Frazer was very much entertained with the 
 story, and she told Lady Mary that she had heard of 
 tame beavers doing such things before ; for in the 
 season of the year when beavers congregate together 
 to repair their works and build their winter houses, 
 those that are in confinement become restless and 
 unquiet, and show the instinct that moves these 
 animals to provide their winter retreats, and lay up 
 their stores of food. 
 
 . " Nurse," said Lady Mary, " I did not think that 
 beavers and racoons could be taught to eat sweet 
 cake, and bread, and meat." 
 
 " Many animals learn to eat very different food to 
 what they are accustomed to live upon in a wild 
 state. The wild cat lives on raw flesh ; while the 
 domestic cat, you know, my dear, will eat cooked 
 meat, and even salt meat, with bread and milk and 
 many other things. I knew a person who had a 
 black kitten called 'Wildfire,' which would sip whisky 
 toddy out of his glass, and seemed to like it as well 
 as milk or water, only it made him too wild and frisky." 
 
 " Nurse, the racoon that the gentleman had would 
 drink sweet whisky punch ; but my governess said 
 
 ' 
 
 -:i^' 
 
A RACOON S TRICKS. 
 
 137 
 
 
 it was not right to give it to him ; and Major 
 Pickford laughed, and declared the racoon must have 
 looked very funny when he was tipsy. Was not the 
 Major naughty to say so ? '" 
 
 Mrs. Frazer said it was not quite proper. 
 
 " But, nurse, I have not told you about the racoon. 
 He was a funny fellow. He was very fond of a little 
 spaniel and her puppies, and took a great deal of care 
 of them. He brought them meat, and anything nice 
 that had been given him to eat ; but one day he 
 thought he would give them a fine treat, so he con- 
 trived to catch a poor cat by the tail, and drag her 
 into his den, where he and the puppies lived together. 
 His pets, of course, would not eat the cat, so the 
 wicked creature ate up poor pussy himself ; and the 
 gentleman was so angry with the naughty thing that 
 he killed him and made a cap of his skin, for he was 
 afraid the cunning racoon would kill his beaver and 
 eat up his tame squirrel." 
 
 " The racoon, Lady Mary, in its natural state, has 
 all the wildness and cunning of the fox and weasel. 
 He will eat flesh, poultry, and sucking pigs, and is 
 also very destructive to Indian com. These creatures 
 abound in the "Western States, and are killed in great 
 numbers for their skins. The Indian hunters eat 
 the flesh, and say it is very tender and good ; but it 
 is not used for food in Canada. The racoon belongs 
 to the same class of animals as the bear, which it 
 resembles in some points, though, being small, it is 
 not so dangerous either to man or the larger animals. 
 
 '4 
 
3E*r 
 
 B>i 
 
 138 
 
 A ro;^Y OF WILD-FLOWERS. 
 
 " And now, my dear, let me show you some pretty 
 wild-flowers a little girl brought me this morning 
 for you, as she heard that you loved flowers. There 
 are yellow-mocassins, or ladies'-slippers, the same 
 that I told you of a little while ago ; and white 
 lilies, crane-bills, and these pretty lilac geraniums ; 
 here are scarlet cups, and blue lupines — they are all 
 in bloom now — and many others. If we were on 
 the Rice Lake Plains, my lady, we could gather all 
 these, and many, many more. In the months of 
 June and July those plains are like a garden, and 
 their roses scent the air." 
 
 " Nurse, I will ask my dear papa to take me to the 
 llice Luke Plains," said the little girl, as she gazed 
 with delight on the lovely Canadian flowers. 
 
 I 
 
 ■■'■^^^^t-. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 NURSE TELLS LADY MARY ABOUT A LITTLE BOY WHO WAS 
 EATEN BY A BEAR IN THE PROVINCE OF NEW BRUNSWICK — 
 OF A BABY THAT WAS CARRIED AWAY, BUT TAKEN ALIVE 
 — A WALK IN THE GARDEN— HUMMING-BIRDS — CANADIAN 
 BALSAMS. 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 * 
 
 URSE," said Lady Mary, "did you ever 
 hear of any one having been eaten by a 
 wolf or bear ? " 
 
 " I have heard of such things happening, my dear, 
 in this country ; but only in lonely, unsettled parts, 
 near swamps and deep woods." 
 
 " Did you ever hear of any little boy or girl 
 having been carried off by a wolf or bear ? " asked 
 the child. 
 
 " No, my lady, not in Canada, though similar 
 accidents may have happened there ; but when I was 
 a young girl I heard of such tragedies at New 
 Brunswick — one of the British provinces lying to 
 the east of this, and a cold and rather barren country, 
 but containing many minerals, such as coal, limestone, 
 and marble, besides vast forests of pine, and small 
 lakes and rivers. It resembles Lower Canada in 
 many respects; but it is not so pleasant as the 
 
140 
 
 THE CANADIAN WOODS. 
 
 I 
 
 province of Upper Canarlta, neither is it so produc- 
 tive. 
 
 " Thirty years ago it was not so well cleared or 
 cultivated as it is now, and the woods were full of 
 wild beasts that dwelt among the swamps and wild 
 rocky valleys. Bears, and wolves, and catamounts 
 abounded, with foxes of several kinds, and many of 
 the fine-furred and smaller species of animals, which 
 were much sought for on account of their skins. 
 Well, my dear, near the little village where my aunt 
 and uncle were living, there were great tracts of 
 unbroken swamps and forests, which of course 
 sheltered many wild animals. A sad accident 
 happened a few days before we arrived, which 
 caused much sorrow and no little fright in the place. 
 
 " An old man went out into the woods one 
 morning with his little grandson to look for the 
 oxen, which had strayed from the clearing. They 
 had not gone many yards from the enclosure when 
 they heard a crackling and rustling among the 
 underwood and dry timber that strewed the ground. 
 The old man, thinking it was caused by the cattle 
 they were looking for, bade the little boy go forward 
 and drive them on the track ; but in a few minutes 
 he heard a fearful cry from the child, and hurrying 
 forward through the tangled brushwood, saw the 
 poor little boy in the deadly grasp of a huge black 
 bear, which was making off at a fast trot with his prey. 
 
 " The old man was unarmed, and too feeble to 
 pursue tlie dreadful beast. He could only wring his 
 
 " 
 
A PATHETIC STORY. 
 
 141 
 
 • 
 
 hands and rend his gray hairs in grief and terror ; 
 but his lamentations could not restore tlie child to 
 life. A band of hunters and lumberers, armed with 
 rifles and knives, turned out to beat the woods, and 
 were not long in tracking the savage animal to his 
 retreat in a neighbouring cedar swamp. A few 
 fragments of the child's dress were all that remained 
 of him ; but the villagers had the satisfaction or 
 killing the great she-bear with her two half-grown 
 cubs. The magistrates of the district gave them a 
 large sum for shooting these creatures, and the skins 
 were sold, and the money given to the parents ot 
 the little boy ; but no money could console them for 
 the loss of their beloved child. 
 
 " The flesh of the bear is eaten both by Indians 
 and hunters ; it is like coarse beef. The hams are cured 
 and dried, and by many thought to be a great dainty." 
 
 " Mrs. Frazer, I would not eat a bit of the ham 
 made from a wicked, cruel bear, that eats little 
 children," said Lady Mary. '• I wonder the hunters 
 w^ere not afraid to go into the swamps where such 
 savoge beasts livied. Are there as many bears and 
 wolves now in those places ? " 
 
 " No, my lady ; great changes have taken place 
 since that time. As the country becomes more 
 thickly settled, the woods disappear. The axe and 
 the fire destroy the haunts that sheltered these wild 
 beasts, and they retreat further back, where the deer 
 and other creatures on which they principally feed 
 abound." 
 
 ! 
 
r 
 
 142 THE INDIAN HUNTERS. 
 
 " Do the hunters follow them ? " ♦r 
 
 "There is no place, however difficult or perilous, 
 where the hunter will not venture in search of 
 game." 
 
 " And do they pursue the graceful deer ? They arc 
 so pretty, with their branching antlers and slender 
 limbs, that I should have thought no man could bo 
 so cruel as to slay them." 
 
 " But their flesli is very savoury, and the Indian, 
 when tired of bear's meat, is glad of a dish of fresh 
 venison. So with his gun — if ho has one — or with 
 his bow and arrow, he lies in wait among the foliago 
 and brushwood of the forest, or behind the rocks on 
 the bank of some swift torrent, and when the 
 unsuspecting stag makes his appearance on the 
 opposite crag, ho takes a careful aim, lets fly his 
 rapid arrow, and seldom fails to kill his victim ; 
 which, dropping into the stream below, is borne by 
 the current within his reach." 
 
 " They are brave men, those hunters," said Lady 
 Mary ; " but I fear they are very cruel. I wish they 
 would only kill the furious bears. That was a sad 
 story you told me just now, nurse, about the poor 
 little boy. Have you heard of any other sufferers ; 
 or do people sometimes escape from these monsters ? " 
 
 ■* '" I also heard of a little child," continued nurse, 
 " not more than two years old, who was with her 
 mother in the harvest-field, who had spread a shawl 
 on the ground near a tall tree, and laid the child 
 upon it to sleep or play, when a bear came out of 
 
 
 ■f,^ 
 
 , 
 
-^^N*.m^^.-f 
 
 
 HUNTING THE DEER. 
 
TFIE BRAR AND THE BAUY. 
 
 145 
 
 TIIK IIAKVEST-i'lKLD. 
 
 the wood and carried her off, leaping tlie fence with 
 her in his arms. But the mother ran screaming after 
 the beast, and the reapers pursued so closely with 
 their pitch-forks and reaping-hooks, that Bruin, who 
 was only a half-grown bear, being hard pressed, 
 made for a tree ; and as it was not easy to climb 
 with a babe in his aims, he quietly laid the little one 
 down at the foot of the tree, and soon was among 
 the thick branches out of the reach of the enemy. 
 I daresay baby must have wondered what rough 
 
 (211) 10 
 
140 
 
 MEMS. ADOUT UKUIN. 
 
 nuiwo liml taken lier np ; Imt hIio was uiiliurt, ami is 
 alive now." 
 
 " [ am so glad, nurse, the dear baby was not hui;- 
 god to death by that Iionid black bear ; and I li(t[»o 
 he was killed." 
 
 " I daresay, my lady, he was shot by sonic of the 
 men ; for tliey sehloni worked near the forest with- 
 out having a gun with them, in case of seeing deer, 
 or pigeons, or partridges." 
 
 " 1 shouhl not like to live in that country, Mrs, 
 Frazei' ; for a bear, a wolf, or a catamount might 
 eat me." 
 
 " I never heard of a governor's daughter being 
 eaten by a bear," said Mrs. Frazer, laughing, as she 
 noticed the earnest expression on the face of her 
 little charge. She then continued her account of 
 the ursine family. 
 
 " The bear retires in cold weather, and sleeps till 
 warmer seasons awaken him. He does not lay up 
 any store of winter provisions, because he seldom 
 rouses himself during the time of his long sleep ; 
 and in the spring he finds food, both vegetable and 
 animal, for he can eat anything when hungry, like 
 the hog. He often robs the wild bees of their honey, 
 and his hide, being so very thick, seems insensible 
 to the stings of the angry bees. Bruin will sometimes 
 find odd places for his winter bed, for a farmer, 
 who was taking a stack of wheat into his barn to be 
 threshed in the winter time, once found a large black 
 Dear comfortably asleep in the middle of the sheaves." 
 
TIIK BEAU liN THE llOO-rKN. 
 
 u: 
 
 )S till 
 lyup 
 ildom 
 sleep ; 
 ie and 
 r, like 
 loiiey, 
 Insible 
 jtimes 
 irmer, 
 to l)e 
 black 
 iaves." 
 
 " How couM the boar have got into tl»<» stack »>f 
 wheat, nurse? " 
 
 "The elau's of this animal are so strong, and ho 
 makes so mueh use of his [)aws, whieli are almost 
 like liands, that he must liavc piiUed the sheaves out 
 and so made an entrance for lilmself. His skin and 
 flesh amply re[)aid the farmer for any injury the grain 
 had reeeivod. I remember seeing the bear brouglit 
 homo in triumjih on the top of tho load of wheat. 
 IJears often do great niisehief by eating the Indian 
 corn when it is ripening; for besides what they de- 
 vour, they spoil a vast deal by trampling the plants 
 down with their clumsy feet. Tiiey will, when 
 hard pressed by hunger, como close to tho farmer's 
 house and rob the pig-sty of its tenants. Many 
 years ago, before the forest was cleared away in the 
 neighbourhood of what is now a largo town, but in 
 those days consisted of only a few poor log-houses, 
 a settler was much annoyed by the frequent visits of 
 a bear to his hog-pen. At last ho resolved to get a 
 neighbour who was a very export hunter to come 
 with his rifle and watch with him. Tho pen where 
 the fatling hogs were was close to the log-house ; it 
 had a long, low, shingled roof, and was cjuefully fas- 
 tened up, so that no bear could find entrance. Well, 
 tho farmer's son and the hunter had \\ utched for two 
 nights, and no bear came ; on the third they were 
 both tired, and lay down to sleep upon the floor of 
 the kitchen, when the farmer's son was awakened by 
 a sound as of some one tearing and stripping the 
 
148 
 
 THE BITKR BIT. 
 
 CAUGHT AT LAST. 
 
 fihinft'les from the pen. He looked out; it was 
 liioonliglit, and there he saw the dark shadow of 
 
 . 
 
CAUGHT AT LAST. 
 
 IV.) 
 
 ! 
 
 
 some tall figure on the grouiul, and spied the great 
 black Lear standing on its hinder legs, and pulling 
 the shingles off as fiist as it could lay its big Llack 
 paws upon theni: The hogs were in a great fright, 
 screaming and grunting with terror. The young 
 man steppeil hack into the house, roused up the 
 hunter, who took aim from tho doorway, and shot 
 the bear dead. The head of the huge beast was 
 nailed up as a trophy, and the meat was dried or 
 salted for winter use, and great wee the rejoicings 
 of the settlers, who had suffered so much from 
 Bruin's thefts of corn and pork." 
 
 " I am glad the hunter killed him, nui-se ; for he 
 might have eaten up some of the little children, 
 when they were playing about in the fields." 
 
 "Sometimes," continued Mrs. Frazer, " the bears 
 used to visit the sugar-bush, when the settlers were 
 making maple sugar, and overturn the sap-troughs, 
 and drink the sweet liquid. I daresay they would 
 have been glad of a taste of the sugar too, if they 
 could have got at it. The bear is not so often met 
 with now as it used to be many years ago. The fur 
 of the bear used to be worn as muffs and tippets, 
 but is now little used for that purpose, being 
 thought to be too coarse and heavy ; but it is still 
 made into caps for soldiers, and used for sleigh- 
 robes." 
 
 This was all Mrs. Frazer chose to recollect about 
 bears, for she was unwilling to dwell long on any 
 gloomy subject, which she knew was not good for 
 
150 
 
 A HUMMING-BIRD. 
 
 y\ 
 
 young minds : so she took her charge into the gar- 
 den to look at the flower-beds, and watch the birds 
 and butterflies ; and soon the child was gaily run- 
 ning from flower to flower, watching with childish 
 interest tlie insects flitting to and fro. At last she 
 stopped, and holding up her finger to warn Mrs. 
 Frazer not to come too near, stood gazing in wonder 
 and admiration on a fluttering object that was hover- 
 ing over the full-blown honey-suckles on a trellis 
 near the greenhouse. Mrs. Frazer approached her 
 with due caution. 
 
 " Nurse," whispered the child, " look at that curi- 
 ous moth with a long bill like a bird ; see its beau- 
 tiful shining colours. It has a red necklace, like 
 mamma's rubies. Oh, what a curious creature ! It 
 must be a moth or a butterfly. What is it ? " 
 
 "It is neither a moth nor a butterfly, my dear. 
 It is a humming-bird." 
 
 " Oh, nurse, a humming-bird — a real humming- 
 bird! — pretty creature ! But it is gone. Oh, nurse, 
 it darts through the air as swift as an arrow ! What 
 was it doing — looking at the honey-suckles ? I 
 daresay it thought them very pretty ; or was it 
 smelling them? They are very sweet." 
 
 " My dear child, he might be doing so ; I don't 
 know. Perhaps the good God has given to these 
 creatures the same senses for enjoying sweet scents 
 and bright colours as we have ; yet it was not for 
 the perfume, but the honey, that this little bird came 
 to visit the open flowers. The long slender bill. 
 
 , 
 
NATURES LACE-WORK. 
 
 151 
 
 
 which the humining-bird inserts into the tubes of 
 the flowers, is his instrument for extracting the 
 honey. Look at the pretty creature's ruby throat, 
 and green and gold feathers." 
 
 " How does it make that whirring noise, nurse, 
 just like the humming of a top?" asked the 
 child. 
 
 " The little bird produces the sound, from which 
 he derives his name, by beating the air with his 
 wings. This rapid motion is necessary to sustain his 
 position in the air while sucking the flowers. 
 
 " I remember. Lady Mary, first seeing humming- 
 ^,-^- ds when I was about your age, while walking in 
 "/>)' ;i rden. It was a bright September morning, 
 aiijl tae rail-fences and every dry twig of the brush- 
 wood were filled with the webs of the field-spider. 
 Some, like thick white muslin, lay upon the grass ; 
 while others were suspended from trees like forest 
 lace-work, on the threads of which the dewdrops hung 
 like strings of shining pearls; and hovering round the 
 flowers were several ruby-throated humming-birds, 
 the whirring of whose wings as they beat the air 
 sounded like the humming of a spinning-wheel. And 
 I thought, as I gazed upon them, and the beautiful 
 lace webs that hung among the bushes, that they 
 must have been the work of these curious creatures, 
 which had made them to catch flies, and had strung 
 the bright dewdrops thereon to entice them — so little 
 did I know of the nature of these birds. But my 
 father told me a great deal about them, and read me 
 
:l 
 
 152 
 
 TOUCH-ME-NOT. 
 
 some very pretty things about Imnmiing-birds ; and 
 one day, Lady Mary, I will show you a stuffed one 
 a friend gave me, with its tiny nest and eggs not 
 bigger than peas." 
 
 Lady Mary was much delighted at the idea of 
 seeing the little nest and eggs, and Mrs. Frazer said, 
 "There is a wild-flower* that is known to the 
 Canadians by the name of the Humming-flower, on 
 account of the fondness which those birds evince for 
 it. This plant grows on the moist banks of creeks. 
 It is very beautiful, of a bright orange-scarlet colour. 
 The stalks and stem of the plant are almost transpar- 
 ent. Some call it Speckled Jewels, for the bright 
 blossoms are spotted with dark purple; and some, 
 Touch-me-not." 
 
 " That is a droll name, nurse," said Lady Mary. 
 " Does it prick one's finger like a thistle ? " 
 
 " No, my lady; but when the seed-pods are nearly 
 ripe, if you touch them they spring open and curl 
 into little rings, and the seed drops out." 
 
 " Nurs( , when you see any of these curious flowers, 
 will you show them to me ? " 
 
 Mrs. Frazer said they would soon be in bloom, 
 and promised Lady Mary to bring her some, and to 
 show her the singular manner in which the pods 
 burst. " But, my lady, " said she, " the gardener 
 will show you the same thing in the greenhouse. As 
 soon as the seed-pods of the balsams in the pots be 
 gin to harden they will spring and curl, if touched, 
 
 * Noli me tangcre, Canadian Balsam. 
 
AVINGED JEWELS. 
 
 153 
 
 and drop tho seeds like the wild plant; for they be- 
 long to the same family. But it is time for your 
 ladyship to go in." 
 
 When Lady Mary returned to the schoolroom, her 
 governess read to her some interesting accounts of the 
 habits of the humming-bird. 
 
 " ' This lively little feathered gem — for in its hues 
 it unites the brightness of the emerald, the richness 
 of the ruby, and the lustre of the topaz — includes 
 in its wide range more than one hundred species. 
 It is the smallest, and at the same time the most 
 brilliant, of all the American birds. Its head- 
 quarters may be said to be among the glowing 
 flowers and luxurious fruits of the torrid zone and 
 the tropics. But one species, the ruby-tliroated, is 
 widely diffused, and is a summer visitor all over 
 North Amei'ica, even within the arctic circle, where, 
 for a briet space of time, it revels in the ardent heat 
 of the short-lived summer of the north. Like the 
 cuckoo, it follows the summer wherever it flies. 
 
 " ' The ruby-throated humming-bird * is the only 
 species that is known in Canada. With us it builds 
 and breeds, and then returns to summer skies and 
 warmer airs. The length of the humming-bird is 
 only three inches and a half, and four and a quarter 
 in extent from one tip of the wing to the other. 
 When on the wing the bird has the form of a cross, 
 the wings forming no curve, though the tail is de- 
 pressed dui'ing the time that it is poised in the act 
 
 * Trochihis rubiis. 
 
154 
 
 A FIERY TEMPER. 
 
 of sucking the honey of the flower. The tongue is 
 long and slender; the bill long and straight; the legs 
 arc very short, so that the feet are hardly visible 
 when on the wing. They are seldom seen walking, 
 but rest on the slender sprigs when tired. Tiie flight 
 is so rapid that it seems without effort. The hum- 
 ming sound is produced by the wing, in the act of 
 keeping itself balanced while feeding in this position. 
 They resemble the hawk-moth, which also keeps up 
 a constant vibratory motion with its wings. This 
 little creature is of a temper as fierce and fiery as its 
 plumes, often attacking birds of treble its size ; but 
 it seems very little disturbed by the near approach of 
 the human species, often entering open windows, and 
 hovering around the flowers in the flower-stand; it 
 has even been known to approach the vase on the 
 table, and insert its bill among the flowers, quite 
 fearless of those persons who sat in the room. Some- 
 times these beautiful creatures have suffered them- 
 selves to be captured by the hand. 
 
 " ' The nest of the ruby-throated humming-bird 
 is usually built on a mossy branch. At first sight 
 it looks like a tuft of gray lichens, but when closely 
 examined shows both care and skill in its construc- 
 tion, the outer wall being of fine bluish lichens ce- 
 mented together, and the interior lined with the silken 
 threads of the mi Ik- weed, the velvety down of the 
 tall mullein, or the brown hair-like filaments of the 
 fern. These, or similar soft materials, form the bed 
 of the tiny young ones. The eggs are white, two in 
 
A MEXICAN NAME. 
 
 155 
 
 number, and about the size of a pea, but oblong in 
 shape. The parents hatch their eggn in about ten 
 days, and in a week the little ones are able to fly, 
 though the old birds continue to supply them with 
 honey for some time longer. The Mexican Indians 
 give the name of Sunbeam to the humming-bird, 
 either in reference to its bright plumage or its love 
 of sunshine. 
 
 " ' The young of the humming-bird does not attain 
 its gay plumage till the second year. The male dis- 
 plays the finer colours — the ruby necklace being 
 confined to the old male bird. The green and cop- 
 pery lustre of the feathers is also finer in the male 
 bird.'" 
 
 Lady Mary was much pleased with what she had 
 heard about the humming-bird, and she liked the 
 name of Sunbeam for this lovely creature. 
 
 t 
 
 ii.^«^ 
 
 ■j : 
 
CJIAFTEU X. 
 
 i 
 
 
 AURORA 130REALIS, OR NORTHERN LIGHTS, MOST FREQUENTLY 
 SEEN IN NORTHERN CLIMATES — CALLED MERRY DANCERS 
 — ROSE TINTS — TINT-LIKE AI'I'EARANCE — LADY MARY 
 ERIUHTENED. 
 
 NE evening, just as Mrs. Frazer was pre- 
 paring to undress Lady Mary, Miss Camp- 
 bell, her governess, came into the nursery, 
 and taking the little girl by the hand, led her to the 
 window, and bade her look out on the sky towards 
 the north, where a low dark arch, surmounted by an 
 irregular border, like a silver fringe, was visible. 
 For some moments Lady Mary stood silently regard- 
 ing this singular appearance; at length she said, "It 
 is a rainbow. Miss Campbell ; but where is the sun 
 that you told me shone into the drops of rain to 
 make the pretty colours ? " 
 
 " It is not a rainbow, my dej^r; the sun has been 
 long set." 
 
 " Can the moon make rainbows at night ? " asked 
 the little girl. 
 
 " The moon does sometimes, but very rarely, make 
 what is called a lunar rainbow. Luna was the 
 
 ( 
 
tup: nortiikun lights. 
 
 1; 
 
 )4 
 
 n 
 
 It 
 
 THE AUUOllA BOREALIS. 
 
 anoiciit name for the moon. But the arch you now 
 see is caused neither by the light of the sun nor of 
 tlie moon, but is known by the name of Aurora 
 ]5orealis, or Northern Lights. Tlie word Aurora 
 
 
 m '■ 
 
 1 
 
 ^1 
 
 Sf 
 
168 
 
 THE creator's handiwork. 
 
 means morning or dawn ; and Borcalis, northern. 
 You know, my dear, what is meant by the word 
 dawn ; it is tlie light that is seen in the sky before 
 the sun rises." 
 
 Lady Mary replied, " Yes, Miss Campbell, I liave 
 often seen the sun rise, and once very early too, 
 when I was ill, and could not sleep ; for nurse lifted 
 me in her arms out of bed, and took me to the 
 window. The sky was all over of a bright golden 
 colour, with streaks of rosy red ; and nurse said, * It 
 is dawn ; the sun will soon be up.' And I saw the 
 beautiful sun rise from behind the trees and hills. 
 He came up so gloriously, larger than when we see 
 him in the middle of the sky ; and I could look at 
 him without hurting my eyes." 
 
 " Sunrise is indeed a glorious sight, my dear; but 
 He who made the sun is more glorious still. Do 
 you remember what we read yesterday in the 
 Psalms ? — 
 
 " Verse 1. The heavens declare the glory of Gtod : and the firmament 
 sheweth His handywork. 
 
 2. One day telleth another : and one night certifleth another. 
 
 3. There is neither speech nor language : but their voices are heard 
 among them. 
 
 6. Ih them hath He set a tabernacle for the sun : which cometh forth 
 as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a giant to run his 
 coiuse. 
 
 " The Northern Lights, Lady Mary, are frequent- 
 ly visible in Canada, but are most brilliant in the 
 colder regions near the North Pole, where they serve 
 to give light during the dark season to those dismal 
 countries from which the sun is so many months 
 
 ^ \ 
 
A LUMINOUS ARCH. 
 
 150 
 
 
 absent. Tlio light of tlio Aurora IJorcalia is so soft 
 and beautiful, that any object can bo iliHtinetly seen; 
 though in those cold countries there are few human 
 beings to bo benefited by this beautiful provision of 
 Nature." 
 
 " The wild beasts and birds nnist be glad of the 
 pretty lights," said the child thoughtfully ; for Lady 
 Mary's young heart always rejoiced when she thought 
 that God's gifts could be shared by the beasts of 
 the field and the fowls of the air. as well as by 
 mankind. 
 
 " Look now, my dear," said Miss Campbell, direct- 
 ing the attention of her pupil to the horizon ; " what 
 a change has taken place whilst we have been speak- 
 ing ! See, the arch is sending up long shafts of 
 light ; now they divide, and shift from side to side, 
 gliding along among the darker portions of vapour 
 like moving pillars." 
 
 " Ah, there, there they go ! " cried the little girl, 
 clapping her hands with delight. '' See, nurse, how 
 the pretty lights chase each other and dance about ! 
 Up they go, higher and higher ! How pretty they 
 look 1 But now they are gone ! They are fading 
 away. I am so sorry," said the child, despondingly, 
 for a sudden cessation had taken place in the motions 
 of the heavens. 
 
 " We will go in for a little time, my dear," said 
 her governess, "and then look out again. Great 
 changes take place sometimes in these aerial 
 phenomena in a few minutes." 
 
u;o 
 
 ADOUT ELRCTRICITV. 
 
 "I suppoHO," said Lady Mary, "those liglits nro 
 the same that tlio pcasantn of Noitlieru Knghuid and 
 Irehiud call tlio Merry Dancers ?" 
 
 " Yes, they are tlie same ; and tliey fancy tljat 
 tlicy are seen when war and troubles are about to 
 ))reak out. IJut this idea is a very ignorant one; 
 for were that the case, some of the cold countries of 
 the world, where the sky is illumined night after 
 night by the Aurora Borealis, would be one continual 
 scene of misery. I have seen in this country a suc- 
 cession of these lights for four or five successive 
 nights. This phenomenon owes its origin to elec- 
 tricity, which is a very wonderful agent in nature, 
 and exists in various bodies, perhaps in all created 
 things. It is this that shoots across the sky in the 
 form of lightning, and causes the thunder to be 
 heard ; circulates in the air we breathe ; occasions 
 whirlwinds, waterspouts, earthquakes, and volcanoes, 
 and makes one substance attract another. 
 
 " Look at this piece of amber. If I rub it on the 
 table, it will become warm to the touch. Now I 
 will take a bit of thread and hold near it. See, the 
 thread moves towards the amber and clings to it. 
 Sealing-wax and many othei" substances when heated 
 have this property. Some bodies give out flashes 
 and sparks by being rubbed. If you stroke a black 
 cat briskly in the dark, you will .see faint flashes of 
 light come from her fur ; and on very cold nights in 
 the winter season, flannels that are worn next the skin 
 crackle and give sparks when taken off and shaken." 
 
 n( 
 
1 on the 
 [o\v I 
 ^ec, the 
 to it. 
 heated 
 flashes 
 a black 
 lashes of 
 lights in 
 Ithe skin 
 Lhaken." 
 
 CHANGES or COLOUR. 
 
 IGl 
 
 Tlieso things astonished Lmiy Mary. Slie tried 
 tlie experiment with the amher and tl»read, and was 
 much amused by seeing the tlircad attracted ; and she 
 wanted to see the sparks from the cat's back, only 
 there happened, unfortunately, to be no black cat or 
 kitten in Government House. Mrs. Frazer, however, 
 promised to procure a beautiful black kitten for her, 
 that she might enjoy the singular sight of the electric 
 sparks from its coat ; and Lady Mary wished winter 
 were come, that she might see the sparks from her 
 flannel petticoat and hear the sounds. 
 
 " Let us now go and look out again at tlie sky," 
 said Miss Campbell ; and Lady Mary skipped joy- 
 fully through the French window to the balcony, 
 but ran back, and flinging her arms about her nurse, 
 cried out, in accents of alarm, " Nurse, nurse, the 
 sky is all closing together ! Oh, Miss Campbell, 
 what shall we do?" 
 
 " There is no cause for fear, my dear child ; do 
 not be frightened. There is nothing to harm us." 
 
 Indeed, during the short time they had been 
 absent, a great and remarkable change had taken 
 place in the appearance of the sky. The electric 
 fluid had diffused itself over the face of the whole 
 heavens; the pale colour of the streamers had changed 
 to bright rose, pale violet, and greenish-yellow. At 
 the zenith, or that part more immediately overhead, 
 a vast ring of deep indigo was presented to the eye ; 
 from this swept down, as it were, a flowing curtain 
 of rosy light, which wavered and moved incessantly, 
 
 ^211) 1 1 
 
 I, 
 
162 
 
 GLOUY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST ! 
 
 as if agitated by a gentle breeze, though a perfect 
 stillness reigned through the air. The child's young 
 heart was awed by this sublime spectacle ; it seemed 
 to her as if it w^ere indeed the throne of the great 
 Creator of the world that she was gazing upon ; and 
 she veiled her face in her nurse's arms and trembled 
 exceedingly, even as the children of Israel when the 
 fire of Mount Sinai was revealed, and they feared to 
 behold the glory of the Most High God. After a 
 while, Lady Mary, encouraged by the cheerful voices 
 of her governess and nurse, ventured to look up to 
 watch tho dilver stars shining dimly as from beneath 
 a veil, and she whispered to herself the words that 
 her governess had before repeated to her : " The 
 heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament 
 sheweth his handvwork." 
 
 After a little while, Mrs. Frazer thought it better 
 to put Lady Mary to bed, as she had been up much 
 longer than usual, and Miss Campbell was afraid lest 
 the excitement should make her ill ; but the child 
 did not soon fall asleep, for her thoughts were full 
 of the strange and glorious things she had seen that 
 night. 
 
 '/ ,. 
 
JCt 
 
 ng 
 led 
 •eat 
 and 
 bled 
 the 
 id to 
 ter a 
 oices 
 up to 
 neath 
 8 that 
 "The 
 anient 
 
 hetter 
 much 
 aid lest 
 child 
 ere iuU 
 en that 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 STRAWBERRIES — CANADIAN WILD FRUITS — WILD RASP- 
 BERRIES — THE HUNTER AND THE LOST CHILD — CRAN- 
 BERRIES — (JRANBEKRY MARSHES — NUTS. • 
 
 |NE day Lady Mary's nurse brought her a 
 small Indian basket, filled with ripe red 
 strawberries. 
 
 " Nurse, where did you get these nice straw- 
 berries?" said the little girl, peeping beneath the 
 fresh leaves with which they were covered. 
 
 " I bought them from a little Indian squaw in the 
 street ; she had brought them from a wooded meadow 
 some miles off, my lady. They are very fine ; see, 
 they are as large as those that the gardener sent in 
 yesterday from the forcing-house ; and these wild 
 ones have grown without any pains having been 
 bestowed upon them." 
 
 " I did not think, nurse, that wild strawberries 
 could have been so fine as these ; may I taste them?" 
 
 Mrs. Frazer said she might. " These are not so 
 large, so red, or so sweet as some that I have 
 gathered when I lived at home with my father," 
 said the nurse. '' I have seen acres and acres of 
 
 
 i 
 
164 
 
 WHENCE COME THE SEEDS ? 
 
 strawberries, as large as the early scarlet that are 
 sold so high in the market, on the Rice Lake plains. 
 When the farmers have ploughed a fallow on the 
 Rice Lake plains, the following summer it will be 
 covered with a crop of the finest strawberries. I 
 have gathered pailsful day after day; these, how- 
 ever, have been partly cultivated by the plough 
 breaking up the sod ; but they seem as if sown by 
 the hand of Nature. These fruits and many sorts of 
 flowers appear on the new soil that were never seen 
 there before. After a fallow has been chopped, 
 logged, and burned, if it be left for a few years, trees, 
 shrubs, and plants, will cover it, unlike those that 
 grew there before." 
 
 " That is curious," said the child. " Does God 
 sow the seeds in the new ground?" 
 
 " My lady, no doubt they come from Him, for He 
 openeth His hand, and fiUeth all things living with 
 plenteousness. My father, who thought a great 
 deal on these subjects, said that the seeds of many 
 plants may fall upon the earth, and yet none of them 
 take root till the soil be favourable for their growth. 
 It may be that these seeds had lain for years, pre- 
 served in the earth till the forest was cleared away, 
 and the sun, air, and rain caused them to spring up ; 
 or the earth may still bring forth the herb of the 
 field, after its kind, as in the day of the creation ; 
 but whether it be so or not, we must bless the Lord 
 for His goodness and for the blessings that He giveth 
 us at all times." 
 
THE WILD GOOSEBERRY. 
 
 160 
 
 " Are there many sorts of wild iruits fit to eat, 
 nurse, in this country? Please, will you tell me 
 all that you know about them?" 
 
 " There are so many, Lady Mary, that I am afraid 
 I shall weary you before I have told you half of 
 them." 
 
 " Nurse, I shall not be tired, for I like to hear 
 about fruits and flowers very much ; and my dear 
 mamma likes you to tell me all you know about the 
 plants, trees, birds, and beasts of Canada." 
 
 "Besides many sorts of strawberries, there are 
 wild currants, both black and red, and many kinds 
 of wild gooseberries," said Mrs. Frazer. " Some grow 
 oil wastes by the roadside, in dry soil, others in 
 swamps ; but most gooseberries are covered with 
 thorns, which grow not only on the wood, but on 
 the berries themselves." 
 
 "I would not eat those disagreeable, thorny 
 gooseben'ies ; they would prick my tongue," said 
 the little girl. 
 
 " They cannot be eaten without first being scalded. 
 The settlers' wives contrive to make good pies and 
 preserves with them, by first scalding the fruit and 
 then nibbing it between coarse linen cloths. I have 
 heard these tarts called thornberry pies, which, I 
 think, was a good name for them. When emigrants 
 first come to Canada and clear the backwoods, they 
 have little time to make nice fruit-gardens for them- 
 selves, and they are glad to gather the wild berries 
 that grow in the woods and swamps to make tarta 
 
166 
 
 CURRANTS AND RASPBERRIES. 
 
 I « 
 
 and preserves ; so that they do not even despise the 
 thorny gooseberries or the wild black currants. Some 
 swamp-gooseberries, however, are quite smooth, of 
 a dark red colour, but small, and they are very nice 
 when ripe. The blossoms of the wild currants are 
 very beautiful, of a pale yellowish -green, and hang 
 down in long graceful branches ; the fruit is harsh, 
 but makes wholesome preserves. But there are 
 thorny currants as well as thorny gooseberries ; these 
 have long, weak, trailing branches ; the berries are 
 small, covered with stiff bristles, and of a pale red 
 colour. They are not wholesome ; I have seen 
 people made very ill by eating them ; I have heard 
 even of their dying in consequence of having done so." 
 
 " I am sure, nurse, I will not eat those wild cur- 
 rants," said Lady Mary ; " I am glad you have told 
 me about their being poisonous." 
 
 " This sort is not often met with, my dear ; and 
 these berries, though they are not good for man, 
 doubtless give nourishmer.u to some of the wild 
 creatures that seek their food from God, and we have 
 enough dainties and to spare without them. 
 
 " The red raspberry is one of the most common 
 and the most useful to us of the wild fruits. It 
 grows in abundance all over the country — by the 
 roadside, in the half-opened woods, on upturned 
 roots, or in old neglected clearings ; there is no place 
 so wild but it will grow, wherever its roots can find 
 a crevice. With maple sugar, the farmers' wives 
 never need lack a tart nor a dish of fruit and cream. 
 
-■-vwini M»tf M<B /*>i^v- 
 
 A DISH FOR A BEAR. 
 
 107 
 
 The poor Irish emigrants' children go out and gather 
 pailsful, which they carry to the towns and villages 
 to sell. The birds, too, live upon the fruit, and 
 flying away with it to distant places, help to sow 
 the seed. A great many small animals eat the ripe 
 raspberry, for even the racoon and great black bear 
 come in for their share.' 
 
 " The black bears ! nurse ! Mrs. Frazer ! " 
 exclaimed Lady Mary, in great astonishment. 
 " What ! do bears eat raspberries ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, my lady, they do. Bears are fond 
 of all ripe fruits. The bear resembles the hog in all 
 its tastes very closely ; both in their wild state will 
 eat flesh, grain, fruit, and roots. 
 
 "I'here is a story about a bear and an Indian hunter, 
 which will show how bears eat berries. It is from 
 the Journal of Peter Jacobs, the Indian mission- 
 ary :— 
 
 " ' At sunrise, next morning,' he says, * we tried 
 to land, but the water was so full of shoals, we could 
 not without wading a great distance. 
 
 " ' The beach before us was of bright sand, and the 
 sun was about, when I saw an object moving on the 
 shore : it appeared to be a man, and seemed to be 
 making signals of distress. We were all weary and 
 hungry, but thinking it was a fellow-creature in dis- 
 tress, wo pulled towards him. Judge of our surprise 
 when the stranger proved to be an enoraious bear ! 
 
 " 'He was seated on his hams, and what we thought 
 his signals, were his raising himself on his hind legs 
 
 •I 
 
108 
 
 SAUCE FOR BRUIN. 
 
 to pull down tiie berries from a high bush, and with 
 his paws full, sitting down again to eat them at his 
 leisure. 
 
 " ' Thus he continued daintily enjoying his ripe 
 fruit in the posture some lapdogs are taught to assume 
 while eating. On we pulled, and forgot our hunger 
 and weariness : the bear still continued break- 
 fasting. 
 
 " ' We got as close on shore as the shoals would 
 permit, and John (one of the Indians), taking my 
 double-barrelled gun, leaped into the water, gun in 
 hand, and gained the beach. Some dead brushwood 
 hid the bear from John's sight, but from the canoe 
 we could see both John and the bear. 
 
 " ' The bear now discovered us, and advanced to- 
 wards us; and John, not seeing him for the bush, 
 ran along the beach towards him. The weariness 
 from pulling all night, and having eaten no food, 
 made me lose my presence of mind ; for I now re- 
 membered that the gun was only loaded with duck- 
 shot, and you might as well meet a bear with a gun 
 loaded with pease. 
 
 " ' John was in danger, and we strained at our 
 paddles to get to his assistance ; but as the bear was 
 a very large one, and as we had no other firearms, 
 we should have been but poor helps to John in the 
 hug of a wounded bear. T^ie bear was at the other 
 side of the brush-heap ; John heard the dry branches 
 cracking, and he dodged into a hollow under a bush. 
 The bear passed, and was coursing along the sand, 
 
>imth*tiiMlMi!^«f- 
 
 THE BEAR AS AN ANGLER. 
 
 169 
 
 1 
 
 but as he passed by where John lay, bang went the 
 gun. The bear was struck. 
 
 " 'We saw him leap through the smoke to the very 
 spot where we had last seen John. We held our 
 breath ; but instead of the cry of agony we expected 
 to hear from John, bang went the gun again — John 
 is not yet caught. Our canoe rushed through the 
 water — we might yet be in time ; but my paddle 
 fell from my hand with joy, as I saw John pop his 
 head above the bush, and with a shout point to the 
 side of the log on which he stood, 'There he lies, 
 dead enough.' We were thankful indeed to our 
 Great Preserver.' 
 
 " Though fruit and vegetables seem to be the 
 natural food of the bear, they also devour flesh, and 
 even fish — a fact of which the good Indian mission- 
 ary assures us, and which I shall tell you, Lady 
 Mary, in his own words : — 
 
 " ' A few evenings after we left the Bock, while 
 the men were before me ' tracking ' (towing the 
 canoe), by pulling her along by a rope from the 
 shore, I observed behind a rock in the river what I 
 took to be a black fox. I stole upon it as quietly 
 as possible, hoping to get a shot; but the animal saw 
 me, and waded to the shore. It turned out to be a 
 young bear fishing. The bear is a great fisherman. 
 His mode of fishing is very curious. He wades into 
 a current, and seating himself upright on his hams, 
 lets the water come about up to his shoulders ; he 
 patiently waits until the little fishes come along and 
 
 :! 
 
■PW 
 
 170 
 
 A BERRY FOR A BEAR. 
 
 rub themselves against his sides ; he seizes them in- 
 stantly, gives them a nip, and with his left paw 
 tosses them over his shoulder to the shore. His left 
 paw is always the one used for tossing ashore the 
 produce of his fishing. Feeling is the sense of which 
 Bruin makes use here, not sight. 
 
 " ' The Indians of that part say that the bear 
 catches sturgeon when spawning in the shoal-water, 
 but the only fish that I know of their catching is the 
 sucker. Of these, in the months of April and May, 
 the bear makes his daily breakfast and supper, 
 devouring about thirty or forty at a meal. As soon 
 as he has caught a sufficient number, he wades 
 ashore and regales himself on the best morsels, which 
 are the thick of the neck, behind the gills. The 
 Indians often shoot him when thus engaged.' 
 
 " There is a small red berry in the woods that is 
 known by the name of the bear-berry,* of which they 
 say the young bears are particularly fond.'* 
 
 " I should be afraid of going to gather raspberries, 
 nurse, for fear of the bears coming to eat them too." 
 
 " The hunters know that the bears are partial to 
 this fruit, and often seek them in large thickets 
 where they grow. A young gentleman. Lady Mary, 
 once went out shooting game, in the province of New 
 Brunswick, in the month of July, when the weather 
 was warm, and there were plenty of wild berries 
 ripe. He had been out for many hours, and at last 
 found himself on the banks of a creek. But the 
 
 * Arbutus uva ursi. — " Kinnikinnick "' is the Indian nam& 
 
 the 
 she 
 for 
 day 
 
THE LOST CHILD. 
 
 171 
 
 bridge he had been used to cross was gone, liaving 
 been swept away by heavy rains in the spring. Pass- 
 ing on a little higher up, he saw an old clearing full 
 ot bushes, and knowing that wild animals were often 
 to be met with in such spots, he determined to cross 
 over and try his luck for a bear, a racoon, or a young 
 fawn. Not far from the spot he saw a large fallen 
 swamp elm-tree, which made a capital bridge. Just 
 as he was preparing to cross, he heard the sound of 
 footsteps on the dry crackling sticks, and saw a move- 
 ment among the raspberry lushes. His finger was 
 on the lock of his rifle in an instant, for he thought 
 it must be a bear or a deer ; but just as he was about 
 to fire, he saw a small, thin, brown hand, all red and 
 stained from the juice of the ripe berries, reaching 
 down a branch of the fruit. His very heart leaped 
 within him with fright, for in another moment he 
 would have shot the poor little child that, with wan, 
 wasted face, was looking at him from between the 
 raspberry bushes. It was a little girl, about as old 
 as you are. Lady Mary. She was without hat or 
 shoes, and her clothes were all in tatters. Her hands 
 and neck were quite brown and sun-burned. She 
 seemed frightened at first, and would have hid her- 
 self, had not the stranger called out gently to her to 
 stay, and not to be afraid ; and then he hurried over 
 the log bridge, and asked her who she was, and where 
 she lived. And she said ' she did not live anywhere, 
 for she was lost.' She could not tell how many 
 days, but she thought she had been seven nights out 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
172 
 
 WATCHED OVER BY ANGKLS. 
 
 1 
 
 in the woods. She had been sent to take soine 
 dinner to her father, who was at work in the forest, 
 but had missed the path, and gone on a cattle track, 
 and did not find her mistake until it was too late, 
 when she became frightened, and tried to get back, 
 but only lost herself deeper in the woods. The 
 first night she wrapped her frock about her head, 
 and lay down beneath the shelter of a great upturned 
 root. She had eaten but little of the food she had 
 in the basket that day, for it lasted her nearly two. 
 After it was gone she chewed some leaves, till she 
 came to the raspberry clearing, and got berries of 
 several kinds, and plenty of water to drink from the 
 creek. One night, she said, she was awakened by a 
 heavy tramping near her, and looking up in the 
 moonlight, saw two great black beasts, which she 
 thought were her father's oxen ; and so she sat up 
 and called, ' Buck,' ' Bright,' — for these were their 
 names ; but they had no bells, and looked like two 
 great shaggy black dogs. They stood on their hind 
 legs upright and looked at her, but went away. 
 These animals were bears, but the child did not 
 know that ; and she said she felt no fear, for she said 
 her prayers every night before she lay down to sleep, 
 and she knew that God would take care of her, both 
 sleeping and waking." 
 
 "And did the hunter take her home?" asked 
 Lady Mary, who was much interested in the story. 
 
 " Yes, my dear, he did. Finding that the poor 
 little girl was very weak, the young man took her on 
 
 wii 
 
 sa( 
 
mm 
 
 LOST AND FOUND. 
 
 17:i 
 
 
 THE LOST CHILD A>fD THE BEARS. 
 
 his back. Fortunately he happened to have a little 
 wine in a flask, and a bit of dry biscuit in his knap- 
 sack, and this greatly revived the little creature. 
 
 \ I 
 
174 
 
 A LESSON OF GRATITUDE. 
 
 Sometimes she ran l)y liis side, wliilo holding by Iiis 
 coat, talking to her new friend, seemingly quite happy 
 and cheerful, bidding him not bo afraid even if they 
 had to pass another night in the wood ; but just as 
 the sun was setting, they came out of the dark 
 forest into an open clearing. 
 
 " It was not the child's homo, but a farm belong- 
 ing to a miller who know her father, and had been 
 in search of her for several days ; and he and his 
 wife were very glad when they saw the lost child, 
 and gladly showed her preserver the way. They 
 rejoiced very much when the poor wanderer was re- 
 stored safe and well to her sorrowing parents." 
 
 " Nurse," said Lady Mary, "I am so glad the 
 good hunter found the little girl. I must tell my 
 own dear mamma that nice story. How sorry my 
 mamma and papa would bo to lose me in the 
 woods ! " 
 
 The nurse smiled, and said, " My dear lady, there 
 is no fear of such an accident happening to you. 
 You are not exposed to the same trials and dangers 
 as the children of poor emigrants ; therefore you 
 must be very grateful to God, and do all you can to 
 serve and please Him ; and when you are able, be 
 kind and good to those who are not so well off as 
 you are." 
 
 " Are there any other wild fruits, nurse, besides 
 raspberries and strawberries, and currants and goose- 
 berries?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear lady, a great many more. We 
 
ALL ABOUT BERRIKa. 
 
 ITfj 
 
 We 
 
 \\\\\ begin with wild plums : tlicso we often preserve; 
 tind when the trees are planted in gardens, and taken 
 care of, the fruit is very good to cat. The wild 
 cherries are not very nice; but the bark of the black 
 cherry is good for agues and low fevers. The choke 
 cherry is very beautiful to look at, but hurts the 
 throat, closing it up if many are eaten, and making 
 it quite sore. The huckle-berry is a sweet, dark 
 blue berry, that grows on a very delicate low shrub : 
 the blossoms are very pretty, pale pink or greenish 
 white bells : the fruit is very wholesome ; it grows 
 on light dry ground, on those parts of the country 
 that are called plains in Canada. The settlers' chil- 
 dren go out in parties, and gather great quantities, 
 either to eat or dry for winter use. These berries 
 are a great blessing to every one, besides forming 
 abundant food for the broods of young quails and 
 partridges ; squirrels, too, of every kind eat tliem. 
 There are blackberries also. Lady Mary ; and some 
 people call them thimble-berries." 
 
 " Nurse, I have heard mamma talk about black- 
 berries." 
 
 " The Canadian blackberries are not so sweet, I 
 am told, my lady, as those at home, though they are 
 very rich and nice-tasted ; neither do they grow so 
 high. Then there are high-bush cranberries, and 
 low-bush cranberries. The first grow on a tall bush, 
 and the fruit has a fine appearance, hanging in large 
 bunches of light scarlet among the dark green 
 leaves ; but they are very, very sour, and take a 
 
 \ 
 
 i I 
 
176 
 
 GATHERING CRANBERRIES. 
 
 great deal of sugar to sweeten them. The low-bush 
 cranberries grow on a slender, trailing plant ; the 
 blossom is very pretty, and the fruit about the size 
 of a common gooseberry, of a dark purplish red, 
 very smoolli and shining ; the seeds are minute, and 
 lie in the white pulp within the skin : this berry is 
 not nice till it is cooked with sugar. There is a 
 large cranberry marsh somewhere at the back of 
 Kingston, where vast quantities grow. I heard a 
 young gentleman say that he passed over this tract 
 when he was hunting, while the snow was on the 
 ground, and that the red juice of the dropped berries 
 dyed the snow crimson beneath his feet. The 
 Indians go every year to a small lake called Buck- 
 horn Lake, many miles up the river Otonabee, in 
 the Upper Province, to gather cranberries ; which 
 they sell to the settlers in the towns and villages, or 
 trade away for pork, flour, and clothes. The cran- 
 berries, when spread out on a dry floor, will keep 
 fresh and good for a long time. Great quantities of 
 cranberries are brought to England from Russia, 
 Norway, and Lapland, in barrels, or large eartlicn 
 jars, filled with spring water ; but the fruit thus 
 roughly preserved must be drained, and washed 
 many times, and stirred with sugar, before it can be 
 put into tarts, or it would be salt and bitter. I will 
 boil some cranberries with sugar, that you may taste 
 them ; for they are very wholesome." 
 
 Lady Mary said she should like to have some in 
 her own garden. 
 
 evei 
 
 thei 
 
 gooi 
 
 for 
 
 real! 
 
 one. 
 
 JL_ 
 
■' j P U P' ,- '?' ^^*"'*'" ^ 
 
 GOOD THINGS IN CANADA. 
 
 177 
 
 d, 
 
 ad 
 
 is 
 3 a 
 
 oi 
 d a 
 ,Yact 
 
 the 
 sriies 
 
 The 
 5uck- 
 ee, in 
 
 .'liicli 
 ;es, ot 
 
 cran- 
 keep 
 
 ties of 
 
 ,lussia, 
 
 artlien 
 
 Iwashed 
 can be 
 I will 
 vy taste 
 
 I some in 
 
 " The cranberry requires a particular kind of soil, 
 not usually found in gardens, my dear lady ; for as 
 the cranberry marshes are often covered with water 
 in the spring, I suppose they need a damp, cool soil, 
 near lakes or rivers; perhaps sand, too, may be good 
 for them. But we can plant some berries, and 
 water them well ; in a light soil they may grow, and 
 bear fruit, but I am not sure that they will do so. 
 Besides these fruits, there are many others, that are 
 little used by man, but are of great service as food 
 to the birds and small animals. There are many 
 kinds of nuts, too — filberts, with rough prickly 
 husks, walnuts, butternuts, and hickory-nuts ; these 
 last are large trees, the nuts of which are very nice 
 to eat, and the wood very fine for cabinet-work, and 
 for fire-wood : the bark is used for dyeing. Now, 
 my dear, I think you must be quite tired with hear- 
 ing so much about Canadian fruits." 
 
 Lady Mary said she was glad to learn that there 
 were so many good things in Canada, for she heard 
 a lady say to her mamma that it vras an ugly country, 
 with nothing good or pretty in it. 
 
 " There is something good and pretty to be found 
 everywhere, my dear child, if people will but open 
 their eyes to see it, and their hearts to enjoy the 
 good things that God has so mercifully spread abroad 
 for us and ail his creatures to enjoy. But Canada is 
 really a fine country, and is fast becoming a great 
 
 one. 
 
 i 
 
 -■»>■ 
 
 (211) 
 
 12 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OAIiTER-SNAKES — KATTLK-SNAKES — ANECDOTE OE A LITTLE 
 BOY — FISHERMAN AND SNAKE — SNAKE CirAKMERS — SPI- 
 DERS — LAND-TORTOISE. 
 
 URSE, I have been so terrified. I was 
 walking in tlie meadow, and a great 
 snake — so big, I am sure" — and Lady 
 Mary held out her arms as wide as she could — 
 " came out of a tuft of grass. His tongue was like 
 a scarlet thread, and had two shrip points ; and, do 
 you know, he raised his wicked head, and hissed 
 at me. I wn^ so frightened that I ran away. I 
 think, Mrs. Frazer, it must have been a rattle-snake. 
 Only feel now how my heart beats " — and the little 
 girl took her nurse's hand, and laid it on her heart. 
 
 '' What colour was it, my dear? " asked her nurse. 
 
 " It was green and black, chequered all over; and 
 it was very large, and opened its mouth very wide, 
 and showed its red tongue. It would have killed 
 me, if it had bitten me, would it not, nurse? " 
 
 " It would not liave harmed you, my lady; or even 
 if it had bitten you, it would not have killed you. 
 The chequered green snake of Canada is not poison- 
 
mamm 
 
 A NUTTING ADVENTURE. 
 
 170 
 
 ous. It was more afraid of you than you were of it, 
 I make no doubt." 
 
 " Do you think it was a rattle-snake, nurse ? " 
 " No, my dear ; there are no snakes of that kind 
 in Lower Canada, and very few below Toronto. 
 The Avinters are too cold for them. But there are 
 plenty in the western part of the Province, where 
 the summers are warmer, and the winters milder. 
 The rattle-snake is a dangerous reptile, and its bite 
 causes death, unless the wound be burned or cut out. 
 The Indians apply different sorts of herbs to the 
 wound. They have several plants, known by the 
 nam esof rattle-snake root, rattle-snake weed, and snake 
 root. It is a good thing that the rattlesnake gives 
 warning of its approach before it strikes the traveller 
 with its deadly fangs. Some people tliink that the 
 rattle is a sign of fear, and that it would not wound 
 people if it were not afraid they were coming near 
 to hurt it. I will tell you a story, Lady Mary, about 
 a brave little boy. He went out nutting one day 
 with another boy about his own age ; and while they 
 were in the grove gathering nuts, a large black snake, 
 that was in a low tree, dropped down and suddenly 
 coiled itself round the throat of his companion. The 
 child's screams were dreadful ; his eyes were start- 
 ing from his head with pain and terror. The other, 
 regardless of the danger, opened a clasp-knife that 
 he had in his pocket, and seizing the snake near the 
 head, cut it apart, and so paved his friend's life, who 
 was well-nigh strangled by the tight folds of the rep- 
 
180 
 
 WELL-NIGH STRANGLED. 
 
 tile, which wa8 one of a very venomous .species, the 
 bite of which gencvally proves fatal/' 
 
MWIIJHI 
 
 THE GARTER-SNAKE. 
 
 181 
 
 
 
 l;x5%? 
 
 the 
 
 " What a brave little fellow ! " said Lady Mary. 
 " You do not think it was cruel, nurse, to kill the 
 snake?" she added, looking up in Mrs. Frazer's 
 face. 
 
 " No, Lady Mary, for he did it to save a fellow- 
 creature from a painful death ; and we are taught hy 
 God's Word that the soul of man is precious in the 
 sight of his Creator. We should be cruel were we 
 wantonly to inflict pain upon the least of God's crea- 
 tures ; but to kill them in self-defence, or for neces- 
 sary food, is not cruel : for when God made Adam, 
 He gave him dominion, or power, over the beasts of 
 the field, and the fowls of the air, and every creeping 
 thing. It was an act of great courage and humanity 
 in the little boy, who perilled his own life to save 
 that of his helpless comrade, especially as he was 
 not naturally a child of much courage, and was 
 very much afraid of snakes : but love for his friend 
 entirely overcame all thoughts of his own personal 
 danger.* 
 
 " The large garter-snake which you saw, my dear 
 lady, is comparatively harmless. It lives on toads 
 and frogs, and robs the nests of young birds, and also 
 pilfers the eggs. Its long forked tongue enables it 
 to catch insects of different kinds; it will even eat 
 fish, and for that purpose frequents the water as well 
 as the black snake. 
 
 " I heard a gentleman once relate a circiimstance 
 
 * A fact related to me by a gentleman from the State of Vermont, 
 as an instance of impulsive feeling overcoming natural timidity. 
 
II ^ 
 
 182 
 
 EASTERN SNAKE-CHABMER9. 
 
 to my father that surprised me a good deal. lie 
 was fishing one day in a river near his own house, 
 hut, being tired, he seated himself on a log or fallen 
 tree, where his basket of fish also stood ; when a 
 large garter-snake came up the log, and took a small 
 fish out of his basket, which it speedily swallowed. 
 The gentleman, seeing the snake so bold as not to 
 mind his presence, took a small rock-bass by the tail, 
 and half in joke held it towards it, when, to his 
 great surprise, the snake glided towards him, took 
 the fish out of his hand, and sliding away with its 
 prize to a hole beneath the log, began by slow de- 
 grees to swallow it, stretching its mouth and the 
 skin of its neck to a very great extent; till, after a 
 long while, it was fairly gorged, and then it slid 
 down its hole, leaving its head and neck only to be 
 
 seen 
 
 >> 
 
 " I should have been so frightened, nurse, if I had 
 been the gentleman, when the snake came to take 
 the fish," said Lady Mary. 
 
 " The gentleman was well aware of the nature of 
 the reptile, and knew that it would not bite him. 
 I have read of snakes of the most poisonous kinds 
 being tamed and taught all manner of tricks. Thore 
 a.e in India and Egypt people that are called snake- 
 charmers, who contrive to extract the fangs con- 
 taining the venom from the Cobra da capella, or 
 hooded snake ; which then become quite harmless. 
 These snakes are very fond of music, and will come 
 out of the leather bag or basket that their master 
 
THE POWER OF FASCINATION. 
 
 183 
 
 i 
 
 carries them in, and will dance or run up his arms, 
 twining about his neck, and even entering his mouth! 
 They do not tell people that the poison-teeth liave 
 been extracted, so that it is thought to be the music 
 that keeps the snake from biting. The snake has a 
 power of chaniiing birds and small animals, by fixing 
 its eye steadily upon them, when the little creatures 
 become paralyzed with fear, either standing quite 
 still, or coming nearer and nearer to their cruel 
 enemy, till they are within his reach. The cat lias 
 the same power, and can by this art draw birds from 
 the tops of trees within her reach. These little 
 creatures seem unable to resist the temptation of 
 approaching her, and, even when driven away, will 
 return from a distance to the same spot, seeking, 
 instead of shunning, the danger which is certain to 
 prove fatal to them in the end. Some writers assert 
 that all wild animals have this power in the eye, 
 especially those of the cat tribe, as the lion and tiger, 
 leopard and panther. Before tliey spring upon their 
 prey, the eye is always steadily fixed, the back low- 
 ered, the neck stretched out, and the tail waved from 
 side to side ; if the eye is averted, they lose the 
 animal, and do not make the spring." 
 
 " Are there any other kinds of snakes in Canada 
 nurse," asked Lady Mary, " besides the garter- 
 snake ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lady, several ; tlie black snake, which 
 is the most deadly, next to tlte rattle-snake, is some- 
 times called the puff-adder, as it inflates the skin of 
 
 
 '9i 
 
184 
 
 SNAKES AND INDIANS. 
 
 tlie head and neck when angry. The copper-bellied 
 snake is also poisonous. There is a small snake ot 
 a deep grass-green colour sometimes seen in the fields 
 and open copse-woods. I do not think it is danger- 
 ous; I never heard of its biting any one. The stare- 
 worm is also harmless. I am not sure whether the 
 black snakes that live in the water are the same as 
 the puff or black adder. It is a great blessing, my 
 dear, that these deadly snakes are so rare, and do so 
 little harm to man. Indeed I believe they would 
 never harm him, were they let alone ; but if trodden 
 Tipon, they cannot know that it was by accident, and 
 so put forth the weapons that God has armed them 
 with in self-defence. The Indians in the north-west, 
 I havo been told, eat snakes, after cutting off their 
 heads. The cat also eats snakes, leaving the head ; 
 she will also catch and eat frogs — a thing I have wit- 
 nessed myself, and know to be true.* One day a 
 snake fixed itself on a little girl's arm, and wound 
 itself around it. The mother of the child was too 
 much terrified to tear the deadly creature off, but 
 filled the air with cries. Just then a cat came out 
 of the house, and quick as lightning sprang upon 
 the snake, and fastened on its neck ; which caused the 
 reptile to uncoil its folds, and it fell to the earth in 
 the grasp of the cat. Thus the child's life wv^ saved, 
 and the snake killed. Thus you see, my dear, that 
 God provided a preserver for this little one when no 
 
 * I once saw a half-grown kitten eat a live green frog, which she first 
 brought into the parlour, playing witli it as with a mouse. 
 
mm* 
 
 ««■ 
 
 PARENTAL AFFECTION. 
 
 185 
 
 help was nigli. Perhaps the child cried to Him for 
 aid, and He heard her and saved her by means of 
 the cat." 
 
 Lady Mary was much interested in all that Mrs. 
 Frazer had told her. She remembered having heard 
 some one say that the snake would swallow her own 
 young ones, and she asked her nurse if it was true, 
 and if they laid eggs. 
 
 " The snake will swallow her young' ones," said 
 Mrs. Frazer. " I have seen the gart^r-snake open 
 her mouih and let the little ones run into it when 
 danger was nigh. The snake also lays eggs : I have 
 seen and handled them often. They are not covered 
 with a hard, brittle shell, like that of a hen, but 
 with a sort of whitish skin, like leather : they are 
 about the size of a blackbird's egg, long in shape ; 
 some are rounder and larger. They are laid in some 
 warm place, where the heat of the sun and earth 
 hatches them. But though the mother does not brood 
 over them, as a hen does over her eggs, she seems to 
 take great care of her little ones, and defends them 
 from their many enemies by hiding them out of sight 
 in the singular manner I have just told you. This 
 love of offspring, my dear child, has been wisely given 
 to all mothers, from the human mother down to the 
 very lowest of the insect tribe. The fiercest beast of 
 prey loves its young, and provides food and shelter for 
 theai; forgetting its savage nature to play with and 
 caress them. Even the spider, which is a disagree- 
 able iusect, fierce and unloving to its fellows, displays 
 
i 
 
 180 
 
 ANECDOTES OF SPIDERS. 
 
 the tendcrcst care for its brood, providing a safe re- 
 treat for them in the fine silken cradle she spins to 
 envelop the eggs, which she leaves in some warm 
 spot, where she secures them from danger : some 
 glue a leaf down, and overlap it, to insure it from 
 heing agitated by the winds, or discovered by birds. 
 There is a curious spider, commonly known as the 
 nursing spider, which carries her sack of eggs with her 
 wherever she goes ; and when the young ones come 
 out, they cluster on her back, and so travel with her; 
 when a little older, they attach themselves to the 
 old one by threads, and run after her in a train." 
 
 Lady Mary laughed, and said she should like to 
 see the funny little spiders all tied to their mother, 
 trotting along behind her. 
 
 " If you go into the meadow, my dear,"8aid MrG. 
 Frazer, "you will see on the larger stones some 
 pretty shining little cases, quite round, looking like 
 gray satin." 
 
 " Nurse, I know what they are," said Lady Mary. 
 " Last year I was playing in the green meadow, and 
 I found a piece of granite with several of these satin 
 cases. I called them silk pies, for they looked like 
 tiny mince pies. I tried to pick one off, but it stuck 
 so hard that I could not, so I asked the gardener to 
 lend me his knife ; and when I raised the crust it 
 had a little rim under the top, and I slipped the 
 knife in, and what do you think I saw? The pic 
 was full of tiny black shining spiders ; and they ran 
 out, such a number of them, — more than I could 
 
 
THE LAND-TORTOISR 
 
 187 
 
 
 
 count, they ran so fast. I was sorry T opened tho 
 crust, for it was a cold, cold day, and the little 8i)iders 
 must liavo been frozen, out of their warm air-tight 
 house." 
 
 " They are able to bear a great deal of cold. Lady 
 Mary — all insects can; and even when frozen hard, 
 so that they will break if any one tries to bend them, 
 yet when spring comes again to warm them, they 
 revive, and are as full of life as ever. Caterpillars 
 thus frozen will become butterflies in due time. 
 Spiders, and many other creatures, lie torpid during 
 the winter, and then revive in the same way as dor- 
 mice, bears, and marmots do." 
 
 "Nurse, please will you tell me something about 
 tortoises and porcupines ? " said Lady Mary. 
 
 " I cannot tell you a great deal about the tortoise, 
 my dear," replied her nurse. "I have seen them 
 sometimes on the shores of the lakes, and once or 
 twice I have met with the small land-tortoise, in the 
 woods on the banks of the Otonabee river. The 
 shell that covers these reptiles is black and yellow, 
 divided into squares — those which I saw were about 
 the size of my two hands. They are very harmless 
 creatures, living chiefly on roots and bitter herbs : 
 perhaps they eat insects as well. They lie buried in 
 the sand during the long winters, in a torpid state : 
 they lay a number of eggs, about the size of a black- 
 bird's, the shell of which is tough and soft, like a 
 snake's egg. Tlie old tortoise buries these in the 
 loose sand near the water's edge, and leaves them to 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
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 Fhotograiidc 
 
 SoHices 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WIST MAIN STIIIT 
 
 WnSTIR,N.Y. 14SM 
 
 (7I6)«73-4S03 
 
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 CcC 
 
 
188 
 
 A BRIEF DESCRIPTION. 
 
 be hatched by the heat of the sun. The little tor- 
 toise, when it comes out of the shell, is about as big 
 as a large spider — it is a funny-looking thing. I 
 have heard some of the Indians say that they dive 
 into the water, and swim, as soon as they are hatched ; 
 but this I am not sure of. I saw one about the size 
 of a crown-piece that was caught in a hole in the 
 sand : it was very lively, and ran along the table, 
 making a rattling noise with its hard shell as it moved. 
 An old one that one of my brothers brought in he 
 put under a large heavy box, meaning to feed and 
 keep it; but in the morning it was gone: it had lift- 
 ed the edge of the box and was away, nor could 
 he find out how it had contrived to make its escape 
 from the room. This is all that I know about the 
 Canadian land-tortoise." 
 
U 4M > *■« » »■*■«» 
 
 )r- 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 KLLEN AND HER PET FAWNS — DOCILITY OF FAN — JACK's 
 PROLL TRICKS — AFFECTIONATE WOLF — FALL FLOWERS — 
 DEPARTURE OF LADY MARY— THE END. 
 
 NE day Lady Mary came to seek her nurse 
 in great haste, and describe to her a fine 
 deer that had been sent as a present to 
 lier father by one of his Canadian friends. She said 
 the great antlers were to be put up over the library 
 door. 
 
 " Papa called me down to see the poor dead deer, 
 nurse ; and I was very sorry it had been killed : it 
 was such a fine creature. Major Pickford laughed 
 when I said so ; but he promised to get me a live 
 fawn. Nurse, what is a fawn ? " 
 
 " It is a young deer, my lady." 
 
 *' Nurse, please can you tell me anything about 
 fawns ? Are they pretty creatures, and can they be 
 tamed ; or are they fierce, wild little things ? " 
 
 " They are very gentle animals ; and, if taken 
 young, can be brought up by sucking the finger like 
 a young calf or a pet lamb. They are playful and 
 lively, and will follow the person who feeds them, 
 
190 
 
 ON THE BRINK OF THE RAPID. 
 
 like a dog. They are very pretty, of a pale dun or 
 red colour, with small white spots on the back like 
 large hailstones ; the eyes are large, and soft, and 
 black, with a very meek expression in them ; the 
 hoofs are black and sharp : they are clean and deli- 
 cate in their habits, and easy and graceful in their 
 movements. 
 
 " I remember," continued Mrs. Frazer, " to have 
 heard of a sad accident which was caused by a 
 fawn." 
 
 " Oh, what was it, nurse? Do tell me, for I 
 don't see how such a timid pretty creature could 
 hurt any one." 
 
 " A party of Indians were rowing in a canoe on 
 one of the great American rivers. As they passed 
 a thick clump of trees, a young fawn suddenly sprang 
 out, and, frightened by their cries, leaped into the 
 water. For some days the rain had been heavy ; 
 the river was therefore running with a wild, impetu- 
 ous current ; and the fawn was carried along by the 
 rushing tide at a tremendous rate. The Indians, de- 
 termined to capture it, paddled down the stream 
 with eager haste, and in their excitement forgot that 
 they were in the neighbourhood of a great rapid, or 
 cataract ; dangerous at all times, but especially so 
 after long-continued rains. On, on, they went ! 
 Suddenly the fawn disappeared, and looking behind 
 them, the startled Indians found themselves on the 
 very brink of the rapid ! Two of their countrymen, 
 standing on a rock overhanging the foaming waters, 
 
r^m*m^fm jlJ ilipi I jiM< 
 
 A PERILOUS SITUATION. 
 
 ini 
 
 GOING DOWN THE RAPIIW. 
 
 saw their peril, and by sliouts and gestures wanied 
 them of it. With vigorous efforts they turned the 
 prow of their canoe, and endeavoured to cross the 
 
192 
 
 THE FAWN AND HER DAM. 
 
 river. Tliey plied their paddles with all the despera- 
 tion of mer. who know that nothing could save them 
 but their own exertions, that none on earth could 
 help them. But the current proved too strong. It 
 carried them over the fall, and dashed their bark 
 broadside against a projecting rock. A moment, and 
 all was over ! Not one of them was ever seen again 1 " 
 
 " Oh, what a sad story 1 " cried Lady Mary; " and 
 all those men were killed through one poor little 
 fawn ! Still, nurse, it was not the fawn's fault ; it 
 was the result of their own impatience and folly. 
 Did you ever see a tame fawn, nurse? " 
 
 " I have seen many, my dear, and I can tell you 
 of one that was the pet and companion of a little 
 girl whom I knew several years ago. A hunter had 
 shot a poor doe, which was very wrong, and contrary 
 to the Indian hunting law ; for the native hunter 
 will not, unless pressed by hunger, kill the deer in 
 the spring of the year, when the fawns are young. 
 The Indian wanted to find the little one after he 
 had shot the dam, so he sounded a decoy whistle, to 
 imitate the call of the doe ; and the harmless thing 
 answered it with a bleat, thinking no doubt it 
 was its mother calling to it. This betrayed its hid- 
 ing-place, and it was taken unhurt by the hunter, 
 who took it home, and gave it to my little friend 
 Ellen to feed and take care of." 
 
 " Please, Mrs. Frazer, will you tell me what sort 
 of trees hemlocks are ? Hemlocks in England are 
 poisonous weeds." 
 
 (( 
 
 spec 
 
 (2 
 
i nm w , i|f'^yi"i|Wj ipyni ;»^<< H ' , 
 
 THE INDIAN HUNTER. 
 
 103 
 
 sort 
 Id are 
 
 THE INDIAN HUNTER. 
 
 " These are not weeds, but large forest trees — a 
 species of pine. I will show you some the next time 
 
 (211) 13 
 
 \ 
 
 4 
 
194 
 
 THE STORY OF POOR FAN. 
 
 we go out for a drive — they are very handsome 
 trees." 
 
 " And what are creeks, nurse? " 
 
 " Creeks are small streams, such as in Scotland 
 would be termed * burns,' and in England * rivulets.' " 
 
 " Now, nurse, you may go on about the d*^ar little 
 fawn ; I want you to tell me all you know about 
 it." 
 
 " Little Ellen took the poor timid thing, and laid 
 it in an old Indian basket near the hearth, and put 
 some wool in it, and covered it with an old cloak 
 to keep it warm ; and she tended it very carefully, 
 letting it suck her fingers dipped in warm milk, as 
 she had seen the dairy-maid do in weaning young 
 calves. In a few days it began to grow strong and 
 lively, and would jump out of its basket, and run 
 bleating after its foster-mother : if it missed her 
 from the room, it would wait at the door watching 
 for her return. 
 
 " When it was older, it used to run on the grass 
 plot in the garden : but if it heard its little mistress's 
 step or voice in the parlour, it would bound through 
 the open window to her side ; and her call of ' Fan, 
 Fan, Fan,' would bring it home from the fields near 
 the edge of the forest. But poor Fan got killed by a 
 careless boy throwing some fire- wood down upon it, 
 as it lay asleep in the wood-shed. Ellen's grief was 
 very great, but all she could do was to bury it in 
 the garden near the river-side, and plant lilac bushes 
 round its little green-sodded grave." 
 
KLI-KN AND UFM PKTS. 
 
 195 
 
 " I am so sorry, nurse, that this good little girl 
 lost her pretty pet." 
 
 " Some time after the death of ' Fan,* Ellen had 
 another fawn given to her. She called this one 
 Jack, — it was older, larger, and stronger, but was 
 more mischievous and frolicsome than her first pet. 
 It would lie in front of the iiie on the hearth, like a 
 dog, and rub its soft velvet no'^e against the hand 
 that patted it very affectionately, but gave a good 
 deal of trouble in the house : it would eat the car- 
 rots, potatoes, and cabbages, while the cook was pre- 
 paring them for dinner ; and when the housemaid 
 had laid the cloth for dinner. Jack would go round 
 the table and eat up the bread she had laid to each 
 plate, to the great delight of the children, who 
 thought it good fun to see him do so. 
 
 " Ellen put a red leather collar about Jack's neck, 
 and some months after this he swam across the rapid 
 river, and went off to the wild woods, and was shot 
 by some hunters, ■. o^reat many miles away from his 
 old home, being known by his fine red collar. After 
 the sad end of her two favourites, Ellen would have 
 no more fawns brought in for her to tame." 
 
 Lady Mary was much interested in the account of 
 the little girl and her pets. " Is this all you know 
 about fawns, nurse ? " 
 
 " I once went to call on a clergyman's wife who 
 lived in a small log-house near a new village. The 
 youngest child, a fat baby of two years old, was 
 lying on the rug before a large log-fire, fast asleep ; 
 

 196 
 
 A HOME IN THE FOREST. 
 
 ■J: 
 
 t. 
 
 its little head was pillowed on the back of a tame 
 half-grown fawn that lay stretched on its side, enjoy- 
 ing the warmth of the fire, as tame and familiar as a 
 spaniel dog. This fawn had been brought up with 
 the children, and they were very fond of it, and 
 would share their bread and milk with it at meal 
 times ; but it got into disgrace by gnawing the bark 
 of the young orchard-trees, and cropping the bushes 
 in the garden ; besides, it had a trick of opening the 
 cupboard, and eating the bread, and drinking any 
 milk it could find. So the master of the house gave 
 it away to a baker who lived in the village ; but it 
 did not forget its old friends, and used to watch for 
 the children going to school, and as soon as it caught 
 sight of them, it would trot after them, poking its 
 nose into the basket to get a share of their dinner, 
 and very often managed to get it all ! " 
 
 " And what became of this nice fellow, nurse? " 
 " Unfortunately, my lady, it was chased by some 
 dogs, and ran away to the woods near the town, and 
 never came back again. Dogs will always hunt 
 tame fawns when they can get near them ; so it seems 
 a pity to domesticate them only to be killed in so 
 cruel a way. The forest is the best home for these 
 pretty creatures, though even there they have many 
 enemies besides the hunter. The bear, the wolf, and 
 the wolverine kill them. Their only means of de- 
 fence lies in their fleetness of foot. The stag will 
 defend himself with his strong horns ; but the doe 
 and her little fawn have no such weapons to guard 
 
 \"^rr5- 
 
THE POWER OF KINDNESS. 
 
 10/ 
 
 themselves when attacked by beasts of prey. The 
 wolf is one of the greatest enemies they have." 
 
 " I hate wolves," said Lady Mary ; " wolves can 
 never be tamed, nurse." 
 
 " I have heard and read of wolves being tamed, 
 and becoming very fond of their masters. A gentle- 
 man in Canada once brought up a wolf puppy, which 
 became so fond of him that when he left it to go 
 home to England, it, refused to eat, and died of grief 
 at his absence ! Kindness will tame even fierce 
 beasts, who soon learn to love the hand that feeds 
 them. Bears and foxes have often been kept tame 
 in this country, and eagles and owls; but I think 
 they cannot be so happy shut up, away from their 
 natural companions and habits, as if they were free 
 to go and come at their own will." 
 
 " I should not like to be shut up, nurse, far 
 away from my own dear home," said the little girl, 
 thoughtfully. " I think, sometimes, I ought not to 
 keep my dear squirrel in a cage — shall I let him go?" 
 
 "My dear, he has now been so used to the cage, 
 and to have all his daily wants supplied, that I am 
 sure he would suffer from cold and hunger at this 
 season of the year if he were left to provide for him- 
 self ; and if he remained here the cats and weasels 
 might kill him." 
 
 " I will keep him safe from harm, then, till the 
 warm weather comes again ; and then, nurse, we 
 will take him to the mountain, and let him go, if he 
 likes to be free, among the trees and bushes." 
 
108 
 
 SADNESS OF AUTUMN. 
 
 It was now tlio mitldlo of Outoher ; the rainy 
 Beason that usually comes in the end of September 
 and beginning of October in Canada was over. The 
 soft, hazy season, called Indian summer, was come 
 again ; the few forest leaves that yet lingered were 
 ready to fall — bright and beautiful they still looked, 
 but Lady Mary missed the flowers. 
 
 " I do not love the fall — I see no flowers Jiow, 
 except those in the greenhouse. The cold, cold 
 winter, will soon bo here again," she added sadly. 
 
 "Last year, dear lady, you said you loved the 
 white snow, and the sleighing, and the meny bells, 
 and wished that winter would last all the year 
 round." 
 
 " Ah, yes, nurse ; but I did not know how many 
 pretty birds and flowers I should see in the spring 
 and the summer ; and now they are all gone, and I 
 shall see them no more for a long time." 
 
 " There are still a few flowers. Lady Mary, to be 
 found ; look at these." 
 
 " Ah, dear nurse, where did you get them ? How 
 lovely they are ! " 
 
 " Your little French maid picked them for you, on 
 the side of the mountain. Rosette loves the wild- 
 flowers of her native land." 
 
 " Nurse, do you know the names of these pretty 
 starry flowers on this little branch, that look so light 
 and pretty ? " 
 
 " These are asters ; a word, your governess told 
 me the other day, meaning star-like. Some people 
 
FLOWERS IN THE WASTE. 
 
 100 
 
 '' 
 
 on 
 
 cull these flowers Michaelmas dnisies. These lovely 
 lilac asters grow in light, dry ground ; they are 
 among the prettiest of our fall flowers. These with 
 the small white starry flowers crowded upon the 
 stalks, with the crimson and gold in the middle, are 
 dwarf asters," 
 
 " I like these white ones, nurse; the little branches 
 look so nicely loaded with blossoms ; see, they are 
 quite bowed down with the weight of all these 
 flowers." 
 
 ** These small shrubby asters grow on dry gravelly 
 banks of lakes and rivers." 
 
 *' ]?ut here are some large dark purple ones." 
 
 " These are also asters. They are to be found on 
 dry wastes, in stony, barren fields, and by the corners 
 of rail -fences ; they form large spreading bushes, 
 and look very lovely, covered with their large dark 
 purple flowers. There is no waste so wild, my lady, 
 but the hand of the Most High can plant it with 
 some blossom, and make the waste and desert place 
 flourish like a garden. Here are others, still brighter 
 and larger, with yellow disks, and sky-blue flowers. 
 These grow by still waters, near mill-dams and swampy 
 places. Though they are larger and gayer, I do not 
 think they will please you so well as the small ones 
 that I first showed you ; they do not fade so fast, 
 and that is one good quality they have." 
 
 " They are more like the China asters in the gar- 
 den, nurse, only more upright and stiff ; but here is 
 {mother sweet blue flower — can you tell me its name?" 
 
200 
 
 THE EVERLASTING FLOWEK. 
 
 " No, my dear; you must ask your governess." 
 
 Lady Mary carried the nosegay to Miss Campbell, 
 who told her the blue flower was called the Fringed 
 Gentian, and that the gentians and asters bloomed 
 the latest of all the autumn flowers in Canada. 
 Among these wild-flowers, she also showed her the 
 large dark blue bell-flowered gentian, which was in- 
 deed the last flower of the year. 
 
 " Are there no more flowers in bloom now, 
 nurse ? " asked the child, as she watched Mrs. 
 Frazer arranging them for her in a flower-glass. 
 
 "I do not know of any now in bloom but the Golden 
 Rods and the latest of the Everlastings. Rosette 
 shall go out and try to get some of them for you. 
 The French children make little mats and garlands of 
 them to ornament their houses, and to hang on the 
 little crosses above the graves of their friends, because 
 they do not fade away like other flowers." 
 
 Next day, Rosette, the little nursery-maid, brought 
 Lady Mary an Indian basket full of Sweet-scented 
 Everlastings. This flower had a fragrant smell ; the 
 leaves were less downy than some of the earlier sorts, 
 but were covered with a resinous gum that caused it 
 to stick to the fingers; it looked quite silky, from 
 the thistle-down, which, falling upon the leaves, was 
 gummed down to the surface. 
 
 " The country folks," said Mrs. Frazer, " call this 
 plant Neglected Everlasting, because it grows on diy 
 wastes by road-sides, among thistles and fire-weed ; 
 but I love it for its sweetness ; it is like a true friend 
 
A WREATH FOR CHRISTMAS. 
 
 201 
 
 — it never changes. See, my dear, how shining its 
 straw-coloured blossoms and buds are, just like satin 
 flowers." 
 
 " Nurse, it shall be my own flower," said the little 
 girl ; " and I will make a pretty garland of it, to 
 hang over my own dear mamma's picture. Rosette 
 says she will show me how to tie the flowers together; 
 she has made me a pretty wreath for my doll's straw 
 hat, and she means to make her a mat and a carpet 
 too." 
 
 The little maid promised to bring her young lady 
 some wreaths of the festoon pine — a low creeping 
 plant, with dry, green, chaify leaves, that grows in 
 the barren pine woods, of which the Canadians make 
 Christmas garlands; and also some of the winter 
 berries, and spice berries, which look so gay in the 
 fall and early spring, wi<^h berries of brightest scar- 
 let, and shining dark-green leaves, that trail over the 
 ground on the gravelly hills and plains. 
 
 Nurse Frazer brought Lady Mary some sweetmeats, 
 flavoured with an extract of the spicy winter-green, 
 from the confectioner's shop ; the Canadians being 
 very fond of the flavour of this plant. The Indians 
 chew the leaves, and eat the ripe mealy berries, which 
 have something of he taste of the bay-laurel leaves. 
 The Indian men smoke the leaves as tobacco. 
 
 One day, while Mrs. Frazer was at work in the 
 nursery, her little charge came to her in a great state 
 of agitation — her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes 
 were dancing with joy. She threw herself into her 
 
202 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE. 
 
 arms, and said, " Oh, dear nurse, I am going home 
 to dear old England and Scotland. Papa and mamma 
 are going away from Government House, and I am 
 to return to the old country with them. I am bo 
 glad — are not you ? " 
 
 But the tears gathered in Mrs. Frazer's eyes, and 
 fell fast upon the work she held in her hand. Lady 
 Mary looked surprised, when she saw how her kind 
 nurse was weeping. 
 
 " Nurse, you are to go too ; mamma says so. Now 
 you need not cry, for you are not going to leave 
 me." 
 
 " I cannot go with you, my dearest child," whis- 
 pered her weeping attendant, " much as I love you ; 
 for I have a dear son of my own. I have but him, 
 and it would break my heart to part from him ; " 
 and she softly put aside the bright curls from Lady 
 Mary's fair forehead, and tenderly kissed her. " This 
 child is all I have in the world to love me, and when 
 his father, my own kind husband, died, he vowed to 
 take care of me, and cherish me in my old age, and 
 I promised that I would never leave him ; so I cannot 
 go away from Canada with you, my lady, though I 
 dearly love you." 
 
 " Then, Mrs. Frazer, I shall be sorry to leave 
 Canada ; for when I go home, I shall have no one to 
 talk to me about beavers, and squirrels, and Indians, 
 and flowers, and birds." 
 
 "Indeed, my lady, you will not want for amuse- 
 ment there, for England and Scotland are finer places 
 
i: 
 
 A BUSY TIME. 
 
 203 
 
 and 
 iady 
 
 than Canada. Your good governess and your new 
 nurse will be able to tell you many things that will 
 delight you ; — and you will not quite forget your poor 
 old nurse, I am sure, when you think about the time 
 you have spent in this country." 
 
 " Ah, dear good old nurse, I will not forget you," 
 said Lady Mary, springing into her nurse's lap and 
 fondly caressing her, while big bright tears fell from 
 her eyes. 
 
 There was so much to do, and so much to think 
 about, before the Governor's departure, that Lady 
 Mary had no time to hear any more stories, nor to 
 ask any more questions about the natural history of 
 Canada ; though, doubtless, there were many other 
 curious things that Mrs. Frazer could have related, 
 for she was a person of good education, who had seen 
 and noticed as well as read a great deal. She had 
 not always been a poor woman, but had once been a 
 respectable farmer's wife, though her husband's death 
 had reduced her to a state of servitude ; and she had 
 earned money enough while in the Governor's service 
 to educate her son, and this was how she came to be 
 Lady Mary's nurse. 
 
 Lady Mary did not forget to have all her Indian 
 curiosities packed up with some dried plants and flower 
 seeds collected by her governess; but she left the 
 cage with her flying squirrel to Mrs. Frazer, to take 
 care of till the following spring, when she told her 
 to take it to the mountain, or St. Helen's Island, 
 and let it go free, that it miglit be a happy squirrel 
 
5SB-^ 
 
 204 
 
 " LAST SCENE OF ALL." 
 
 once more, and bound away among the green trees 
 in the Canadian woods. 
 
 When Mrs. Frazer was called in to take leave of the 
 Governor and his lady, »fter receiving a handsome 
 salary for her care and attendance on their little 
 daughter, the Governor gave her a sealed parchment, 
 which, when she opened, was found to contain a 
 Government deed for a fine lot of land, in a fertile 
 township in Upper Canada. 
 
 It was with many tears and blessings that Mrs. 
 Frazer took leave of the good Governor's family ; 
 and, above all, of her beloved charge, Lady Mary. 
 
trees 
 
 IS 
 
 1 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The Indians, though so stolid and impassive in their general 
 demeanour, are easily moved to laughter, having a quick 
 perception of fun and drollery, and sometimes show them- 
 selves capable of much humour, and even of wit. 
 
 The following passage I extract from a Hamilton paper, 
 Canada West, which will, I think, prove amusing to my 
 readers :— 
 
 At a missionary meeting in Hamilton, which took place a 
 short time since, John Sunday, a native preacher, was par- 
 ticularly happy in addressing his audience on the objects of 
 the meeting, and towards the close astonished all present 
 by the ingenuity and power of his appeal to their liberality. 
 His closing words are too good to be lost. I give them as 
 they were spoken by him : — 
 
 " There is a gentleman who, I suppose, is now in this 
 house. He is a very fine gentleman, but a very modest one. 
 He does not like to show himself at these meetings. I do 
 not know how long it is since I have seen him ; he comes 
 out so little. I am very much afraid that he sleeps a great 
 deal of his time when he ought to be out doing good. His 
 name is Gold. — Mr. Gold, are you here to-night, or are 
 you sleeping in your iron chest? Come out, Mr. Gold. 
 Come out and help us to do this great work — to preach 
 
206 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 f 
 
 the gospel to every creature. Ah, Mr. Gold, you ought 
 to be ashamed of yourself, to sleep so much in your iron 
 chest. Look at your white brother, Mr. Silver. He does 
 a great deal of good while you are sleeping. Come out, Mr. 
 Gold. Look, too, at your little brown brother, Mr. Coppei*. 
 He is everywhere. Your poor little brown brother is run- 
 ning about doing all he can to help us. Why don't you 
 come out, Mr. Gold ? Well, if you won't show yourself, 
 send us your shirt — that is, a bank-note ! 
 
 " This is all I have to say." 
 
 Whether the witty appeal of the Indian had the effect of 
 bringing forth Mr. Gold from his hiding-place is not said, 
 but we hope it mofed some of the wealthy among his hearers 
 to contribute a few sovereigns or gold dollars to the mis- 
 sionary work of converting the poor Indians in the far west 
 regions of Canada. 
 
 LIST OF INDIAN WORDS. 
 
 A-da-min, ... 
 
 Ah-meek, 
 
 Ajidamo, 
 
 Be-dau-bun, ... 
 
 Chee-ma-in-iii, 
 
 Chee-to-waik, 
 
 Dah-hinda, ... 
 
 Gitche Manito, 
 
 Ish-koo-dah, 
 
 Kah-ga-gee,... 
 
 Ktlw, 
 
 Kaw-win, 
 
 Keen-o-beek, 
 
 ... The strawberry. 
 
 ... The beaver. 
 
 ... The red squirrel. 
 
 . . . Dawn of the morning. 
 
 ... Birch canoe. 
 
 ... The plover. 
 
 ... The bull-frog. 
 
 f Giver of life. 
 
 ■■■ I The Great Spirit. 
 
 ... Fire. 
 
 ... The raven. 
 
 ... No. 
 
 ... No, no, indeed. 
 
 ... Serpent. .' 
 
 } 
 
 i/^ ' 
 
 /^ 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 207 
 
 Mad-wa-bska, 
 
 Mun-a-gah, ... 
 Misko-deed, ... 
 Nee-chee, 
 Nap-a-nee, ... 
 Nee-me-no-che-sbah, 
 Omee-m5e, ... 
 Opee-che6, ... 
 O-wais-sa, ... 
 Peta-wan-ooka, 
 Shaw-shaw, ... 
 Spook, 
 Ty-yah! 
 Wai-wassa, ... 
 Wah-ho-no-miu, 
 
 {Sound of waves. 
 Murmur of the waves. 
 
 . Blue-berry. 
 
 . Spring-beauty. 
 
 . Friend. 
 
 . Flour. 
 
 . Sweetheart. 
 
 . The wild pigeon. 
 
 . The robin. 
 
 . The blue-bird. 
 
 . The light of the morning. 
 
 . The swallow. 
 
 . Spirit. 
 
 . An exclamation of surprise. 
 
 . The whip-poor-will. 
 
 . A cry of lamentation. 
 
 Many of the Indian names have been retained in Canada, 
 for various rivers and townships, and are very expressive of 
 the peculiar qualities and features of the country.